
Such a beautiful golden day
So crisp and cool and clear.
It’s days like this that make me think—
If just for a little bit—
That it will all work out in the end.
A man can only dream.

Such a beautiful golden day
So crisp and cool and clear.
It’s days like this that make me think—
If just for a little bit—
That it will all work out in the end.
A man can only dream.

Highlands Methodist Church is the central landmark of Birmingham, Alabama’s Five Points district, and is a fine example of the Spanish Renaissance Revival style. P. Thornton Marye of Atlanta designed the structure, which was completed in 1909.1
Apparently, “oral history” says that Stanford White of McKim, Mead & White was originally tapped to design the church and Marye took over after White’s death,2 which is pure fabrication.
I’ve read variations of the “Stanford White actually designed this” tale connected with buildings in Anniston, Alabama; Chattanooga, Tennessee; and Macon, Georgia. All of them are bullshit.
White never designed any structures in the Deep South—the furthest south he ventured for work was the University of Virginia.
In the case of Highlands Methodist, it’s well-documented that Marye was awarded the contract for the church’s design in April 1909,3 4 two months before White’s death. Research, people.
Southerners are liars to the core, but you have to wonder why so many apparently wanted to be associated with a well-known pedophile and rapist like White, especially Christians.
Actually, now that I write that out, it makes perfect sense.

Originally named Five Points Methodist,8 the church was Marye’s second major project in Birmingham.
At the same time, he oversaw the design and construction of the city’s Terminal Station, and the two structures were completed within a month of each other.9 10
However, the church has more in common with Marye’s design for the Gulf, Mobile, and Ohio Railroad Passenger Station in Mobile, Alabama, completed in 1907. Both buildings share the same style, and the church design reuses multiple elements from the station.
I consider Marye one of Atlanta’s more underrated architects, and he deserves praise for his work on Highlands Methodist.
With its oversized Palladian windows, elaborate terracotta ornamentation, cream-colored brick, and deep-red Spanish tiles, the church’s appearance teeters on the gaudy, but Marye’s bold massing and skillful proportion mercifully restrain the composition.
In less talented hands, it could have been horrific.
As Marye designed it, the church was originally much more open to the surrounding neighborhood, with four main entrances—two on the west and two on the south.11
Later additions and large fences compromised that openness, and today Highlands UMC conceals all but its west facade, making it appear more like an aloof old neighbor who shuns the street.
It’s still striking and attractive, though.





































The postcards here depict the Auditorium and Municipal Building in Raleigh, North Carolina, completed in October 19111 2 3 and April 1912,4 respectively, and designed by P. Thornton Marye of Atlanta.5 6
Frank K. Thomson7 8 of Raleigh’s Barrett & Thomson served as associate architect9 10 11 and supervised construction.12
The two connecting structures were “erected as one”13 and constituted the first of six major projects Marye designed for Raleigh, all built between 1909 and 1915. Only one of those projects—the State Administration Building14—survives.
The postcard at the top shows the Auditorium‘s facade and east elevation, flanked by the Municipal Building’s south elevation. Despite its title (“The Auditorium”), the postcard below depicts the Municipal Building, with only part of the Auditorium visible.
The two-story buildings were faced with cream-colored brick15 16 and Indiana limestone,17 18 and topped with a tile roof.19 A 1911 article claimed the project was designed “in part on a Colonial scheme,”20 though that was plainly inaccurate. Maybe the writer meant Spanish Colonial, given the tile roof. It’s a stretch, though.
An earlier report correctly described the style as “of the French Renaissance school”21—a.k.a. Beaux-Arts. I fully agree with that assessment, based on the buildings’ formal symmetry, dentilled cornices, and terracotta ornamentation,22 23 including shields, festoons, and decorative keystones.
The Municipal Building housed the mayor’s office, city court and council chambers, police station, and other departments,24 25 while the Auditorium, designed in “amphi-theater form,”26 could host events for 4,50027 to 5,000 people.28 29
The Auditorium’s interior incorporated inclined ramps instead of steps,30 31 which was apparently a novel feature, and Marye reportedly custom-designed all the building’s furniture.32
Although he may have been closely involved in its design, I wouldn’t consider this one of Marye’s better works—based on these photographs, anyway.

I suspect the Auditorium’s facade was at least partly inspired by D.H. Burnham‘s design for Washington Union Station in Washington, D.C.
Marye was a Virginia native33 who practiced for 10 years in Virginia and D.C.,34 and he designed three major train stations in the Southeast, so he was surely familiar with Washington’s.
In the Union Station design, Burnham’s team topped the facade’s three giant arches with an absurdly high parapet to achieve visual balance. Up close, the design looks clumsy, but from a distance, it appears grand and imposing—quite fitting for a city of monuments.
The Auditorium may have looked better from a distance, too, but these postcards suggest its parapet neither balanced the composition nor complemented the large arched bays.
Marye clearly intended a bold, audacious design, but the low, flat roofline suppressed the arches, and in these images, both structures appear flat, boxy, and oddly languid.
He also wrapped both buildings in an oversized cornice, a device Haralson Bleckley of Atlanta often used. It visually connected the two structures, but failed as a focal point: the eye still wanders to the blank mass above the cornice.
It would have been much more dynamic if Marye had kept the cornice and eliminated the parapet entirely, letting the arches form the roofline, as he did to fantastic effect with the Gulf, Mobile and Ohio Railroad Passenger Station in Mobile, Alabama, and Highlands Methodist Church in Birmingham, Alabama.

As it was, the roof design was clearly problematic: less than three years after its opening, the Auditorium was already experiencing leaks that “caused a steady downpour of rain in certain sections of the immense assembly hall.”35 The building’s wooden entrance doors were also reportedly rotting.36
Local roofers opined that “an entirely new roof should be placed on the building,”37 but of course they would say that.
Marye was summoned by city officials to address the building’s problems,38 39 and he assured the mayor that he would “take up the matter of the repairs that are needed on the structure and that everything necessary would be attended to.”40
What that meant for the roof is unclear, but Marye’s solution for the front doors was to cover them in metal.41 42 You have to wonder why they weren’t metal in the first place.
It had been just over a decade since the infamous Iroquois Theatre fire in Chicago, which killed over 600 people, and fire safety was still a hot topic when it came to the construction of public buildings—especially theaters.
As Marye was attending to the Auditorium’s repairs in 1914, one article noted rather presciently:
“…it is to be remembered that no fire escapes have ever been placed on this building, though, of course, this had nothing to do with Mr. Marye’s part of the work, and he is not expected to see to the placing of these further additions for the safety of persons who might be occupying the building at the time of an emergency.”43
The “time of emergency” came 16 years later, when a fire destroyed the Auditorium on October 25, 1930.
The 18-year-old facility was hosting the Negro State Fair Marshall’s Ball that evening when a blaze broke out between 11:45 and midnight. Investigators suspected the fire began in “one of the men’s dressing rooms where smoking was going on.” 44 Seems logical.
Nearly 1,000 people were present at the event, but everyone escaped without injury, and the adjoining Municipal Building was spared as firemen used “every available piece of fire equipment in the city.”45 By the time the fire was extinguished at 1 a.m.,46 only the front wall remained standing.47
The day after the fire, the News and Observer remarked:
“Raleigh didn’t know how much of a fire trap it had in its midst until the city auditorium burned down. The roof crashed in within 20 minutes after the fire was discovered. Think what might have happened, if the auditorium had been crowded with people.”48
The city quickly built a replacement venue a few blocks south—that facility, the Raleigh Memorial Auditorium, still stands.
The former Auditorium site was eventually replaced with a gas station,49 which was later converted to an annex for the municipal building, by that time known as City Hall.50 51
With the opening of a new city hall, demolition of the Municipal Building began in November 196052 and ended in January 1961, making way for—bet you’ll never guess—a parking lot.53 54











The postcards here depict the First Baptist Church in Gainesville, Georgia, completed in 1909 and designed by Bruce & Everett of Atlanta.1 2
The Asheville Postcard Co. of Asheville, North Carolina, published both cards, and the one pictured above was postmarked in Gaffney, South Carolina, on March 25, 1926.
A note on the back, addressed to Mrs. Alice E. Kendall of Tarpon Springs, Fla., reads:
“Dear Aunt Alice
Here we are to night. Did nearly 200 miles today. Saw Stone Mt. Memorial this afternoon. This is beautiful country.
Love,
Clyde + Frances“
So there’s that.
First Baptist of Gainesville was the first of three churches by Bruce & Everett with largely identical designs—the other two are the First Methodist Church (1909) in Opelika, Alabama, and Allen Memorial Methodist Church (1910, pictured below) in Oxford, Georgia.
Bruce & Everett consisted of A.C. Bruce (1835-1927), formerly of Bruce & Morgan, with A.F.N. Everett (1880-1937),3 4 and lasted from 19055 to 1908.6
Bruce had retired from Bruce & Morgan in 1904,7 shortly after he was elected to the Atlanta city council in December 1903 (he ran unopposed).8
At his retirement, it was reported that Bruce would remain as “associate and consulting architect” with Morgan & Dillon,9 but that appears to have been honorific, and I’m unaware of any work the successor firm completed that included his input.
Bruce’s council term lasted two years,10 and whether he was bored in retirement or needed the money—maybe both—he continued to dabble in architecture.
In May 1904, he announced the incorporation of the Bruce Architectural Company, with “county, municipal and state buildings a specialty.”11 Everything about the business is fishy, and it apparently dissolved amid controversy.
In late 1905, as his city council term was about to expire, the 70-year-old Bruce partnered with 25-year-old Everett, an Atlanta native who had recently apprenticed for G.L. Norrman.12
The new firm specialized in schools and churches—well within Bruce’s wheelhouse—and I suspect he handled design duties while Everett supervised construction.
Most of Bruce & Everett’s completed projects bear Bruce’s characteristic massing and proportions, and, in many cases, reuse specific elements from his Bruce & Morgan days.
First Baptist of Gainesville and the two duplicate churches also appear to have evolved from Bruce’s design for the First Presbyterian Church in Cuthbert, Georgia,13 completed in 1900.14

Bruce retired for the second time in August 1908,15 but when construction was announced on Allen Memorial Methodist (pictured above) in November 1908, the design was credited to Bruce & Everett.16
At the church’s dedication in 1910, Everett was named as the architect,17 but the design was clearly Bruce’s. Contrast it with Everett’s Pierce Memorial Methodist Church18 in Sparta, Georgia, also built circa 191019 20 —the Everett design was awful.
I generally respect Bruce as an architect: he had talent despite his lack of formal training, and although he often made missteps, he consistently approached his designs with honesty and integrity.
Everett, on the other hand, was a talentless hack, and I find most of his surviving designs to be artless, clumsy, and cynical. His later work for the Ku Klux Klan also leaves a dark stain on his legacy.

Bruce designed First Baptist of Gainesville in the Neoclassical style, with a Stone Mountain granite exterior,21 Corinthian columns, and a red tile roof.22 23 I’m not sure why the postcard above shows a green roof.
Construction on the church began in May 1907 and was completed in June 1909.24 25 The project took longer than anticipated after the first contractor went bankrupt, halting construction and prompting a dispute between the church and the contractor’s bond company.26
The building followed the then-popular Akron plan,27 in which a large Sunday School room divided by wedge-shaped partitions was attached to the sanctuary. The full Sunday School room could also be opened to the sanctuary for additional seating.
The church had a seating capacity of 1,500, “not including the primary department,”28 with The Atlanta Journal noting that the “exceptional [sic] large seating capacity…was rendered necessary by the fact that Gainesville is quite a college town.”29
The sanctuary survived the 1936 tornado that leveled much of Gainesville’s commercial district, though the roof was blown off.30 31
The building was ultimately destroyed in a fire on February 12, 1960,32 33 34which local officials suggested was arson.35 36 37State Crime Lab tests disputed that notion,38 39however, and no one was questioned or charged.40
While the church’s charred shell was being dismantled, Brevard Springs Williams, “an Atlanta interior decorator and designer,”41 purchased the four large Corinthian columns and placed them on his mountaintop property in Rabun County, Georgia.42 43 44
Apparently they’re still there.





This postcard depicts the Hall County Courthouse in Gainesville, Georgia, completed in August 18841 and designed by Bruce & Morgan2 3 of Atlanta.
If the building looks familiar, that’s because it was a duplicate of the firm’s design for the Walton County Courthouse in Monroe, Georgia,4 which began construction in early 1883,5 and was completed in May 1884.6
In the architects’ defense, the Gainesville project was a rushed replacement for Hall County’s previous courthouse, destroyed by fire on January 1, 1883,7 so it made sense to use plans that were already on the boards.

However, Bruce & Morgan also reused the same design for a third project: the Union County Courthouse in Monroe, North Carolina, completed circa February 1888.8
That was such an obvious cash grab that the firm apparently refused public credit to avoid embarrassment—I haven’t found any sources from the time that name them as the building’s designers, but it was the exact same plan.
Gainesville’s courthouse was destroyed in an April 1936 tornado that leveled much of the city’s business district,9 though the structure’s days were already numbered.
After the storm, one eyewitness reported to The Atlanta Journal, rather indifferently:
“the Courthouse—we were going to tear it down anyhow—was wrecked.”10
The current Hall County Courthouse was completed in 1938, and the siblings of the previous courthouse still stand in Monroe, Georgia, and Monroe, North Carolina.

























