founded by the local Sisters of Loretto at the behest of Bishop John Lamy. In 1873, work was begun on a chapel. Unfortunately, some earthly—even earthy—events reportedly marred the work: the wife of Bishop Lamy’s nephew caught the architect’s eye, and he was killed for his interest—shot by the nephew who was distraught over his destroyed marriage.
At this time, work on the chapel was nearing completion, and although the choir loft was finished, the architect’s plans provided no means of access. It was felt that installing an “ordinary stair” would be objectionable on aesthetic grounds as well as by limiting seating (Bullock 1978, 6, 8). “Carpenters and builders were called in,” according to one source, “only to shake their heads in despair.” Then, “When all else had failed, the Sisters determined to pray a novena to the Master Carpenter himself, St. Joseph” (the father of Jesus) (Bullock 1978, 8).
“On the ninth day,” reportedly, their prayers were answered. A humble workman appeared outside, leading a burro laden with carpentry tools. He announced he could provide a suitable means of access to the loft,requiring only permission and a couple of water tubs. Soon, he was at work:
Sisters, going in to the Chapel to pray, saw the tubs with wood soaking in them, but the Man always withdrew while they said their prayers, returning to his work when the Chapel was free. Some there are who say the circular stair which stands there today was built very quickly. Others say no, it took quite a little time. But the stair did grow, rising solidly in a double helix without support of any kind and without nail or screw. The floor space used was minimal and the stair adds to, rather than detracts from, the beauty of the Chapel.
As the tale continues:
The Sisters were overjoyed and planned a fine dinner to honor the Carpenter. Only he could not be found. No one seemed to know him, where he lived, nothing. Lumberyards were checked, but they had no bill for the Sisters of Loretto. They had not sold him the wood. Knowledgeable men went in and inspected the stair and none knew what kind of wood had been used, certainly nothing indigenous to this area. Advertisements for the Carpenter were run in the New Mexican and brought no response.
“Surely,” said the devout, “it was St. Joseph himself who built the stair.” (Bullock 1978, 8,10)
No doubt the legend has improved over the intervening century, like good wine. As we shall see, there is more to the story. But Barbara Hershey concedes, “Those who want to believe it’s a miracle can, and those who want to believe this man was just an ingenious carpenter can” (Bobbin 1998). Evidence for the latter is considerable, but first we must digress a bit to understand spiral stairs.
Spiral and other winding staircases reached a high point in development in sixteenth–century England and France, with several “remarkable” examples (“Stair” 1960 “Interior” 1960). To appreciate the problems such stairs present, we must recognize that builders use turns in staircases to save space or to adapt to a particular floor plan. The simplest is the landing turn , which is formed of straight flights joined at the requisite angle by a platform. A variation is the split landing , which is divided on a diagonal into two steps. Instead of a landing, the turn may be accomplished by a series of steps having tapered treads. Such staircases are called winders and include certain ornamental types, like that which takesthe shape of a partial circle (known as circular stair) or an ellipse. An extreme form of winding staircase is a continuous winder in the form of a helix (a line that rises as it twists, like a screw thread). This is the popularly termed “spiral staircase” like the example at Loretto Chapel (Locke 1992, 135–36 Dietz 1991, 340–42). Helixes—in contrast to, say, pyramids—are not inherently strong weight–supporting structures. They require some kind
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