I wish I could find more about the history of San Antonio Chapel, but I'm limited to "built in 1940." San Antonio has been described as a "historic Italian chapel in the Fairmount, Cumminsville, Millvale, and Lower Price Hill areas," so, no, the neighborhood isn't exactly ideal and certainly not what it was 70 years ago when Cincinnati's Italian population congregated in the area. In spite of the neighborhood, it really is nearly perfect though.
It's a small church, not as tiny as Saint Jerome, but definitely small. 15 short pews line either side of the center aisle, but additional seating on the sides of a cruciform design allows for (the possibility of) a larger congregation. Four windows line either side of the church - normal windows with aluminum blinds. You don't see blinds in a church very often, but here, it works. The color tones of the sanctuary are really pretty - deep maroons and golds, as is the dark wooden beamed ceiling. Nothing much beyond that, but it's enough. Don't even get me started on the church bell rung before mass. Suffice it to say that this bell was actually being RUNG by someone - you could hear the rope being pulled up and down. I loved it.
Celebrating priests for the Sunday mass seem to be drawn from a variety of locations. For our visit, we were lucky enough to have a Franciscan priest say the mass . . . and unfortunate enough to get one that was quite ... verbose. Ah well, what can you do.
No surprise that my husband and I were the youngest people at San Antonio. It also came as no surprise that nearly everyone knew everyone else here. Everyone seemed happy for a couple celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary at this mass, and I heard a few sympathetic sighs over the announcement of a death in the parish last week. The Italian names were running rampant, and I jumped at the chance to silently whisper to my husband about the "celebrity" sitting behind us. Highlight of my week: exchanging the Sign of Peace with a well-known and much-loved Italian Cincinnati businessman. Made. My. Day.
Everyone here was so incredibly friendly. Several people said hello to us before mass started, just like we'd known each other for years. One woman cued me in on how communion is distributed - I was kind of thrown for a minute, so the advice was actually a great help. Finally, after mass, a woman behind us asked us if it was our "first time" at San Antonio. She introduced herself and welcomed us. Sure, we stood out like sore thumbs as the newcomers, but we've stood out before in most of our weekly excursions, but this was the first and only time in all of those visits that anyone has taken the initiative and expressed a welcome. I must have been in a good mood because, frankly, I was touched.
Every Sunday after mass, a brief social with refreshments is held in the basement of the church. My husband and I didn't attend, but in our efforts to get to our car, we found ourselves going against the flow and were nearly stampeded by almost everyone else who was attending. There's something at San Antonio. I like it. I'll be back . . . and maybe next time, I'll stay for the refreshments, but until then, let's just keep it our little secret.
ATTENDANCE: Comfortably full
DURATION: One hour
