From east to west on W. Wisconsin

Roots reach back into Milwaukee history, as buildings face the future

Posted: April 30, 2005

You'd have to travel a long way to find a stranger pair of architectural bookends.

East Meets West

Photo/Dale Guldan It's a curious juxtaposition of faith that places Our Savior's Lutheran Church (left) adjacent to the Islamic-inspired Tripoli Shrine Center on the west side.

Photo/Dale Guldan A sculpture known as "The Inviting Christ" overlooks one of the stone camels that stands guard in front of the Tripoli Shrine Center.

One building is an Americanized version of the Taj Mahal, with a tile-covered dome that rises more than 100 feet above ground level. Its neighbor to the west is a dolomite fortress dominated by a huge statue called "The Inviting Christ."

One landmark was inspired by Islamic designs, while the other is boldly identified as a Christian shrine.

You might expect to find such an odd couple in a theme park, not sharing a city lot line, but there they stand at N. 30th St. and W. Wisconsin Ave. - the Tripoli Shrine Center and Our Savior's Lutheran Church.

Both buildings have rich histories of their own, and their roots reach back to the beginnings of Milwaukee.

The Tripoli Shrine Center, newly refurbished and newly open to the public, is the older of the pair. Most of us know the Shriners as those guys in the red fezes riding go-karts or Harley-Davidsons in local parades. The Shrine Circus might be another point of contact.

The Tripoli Shrine is actually a Masonic order, and Masons have been in Milwaukee since pioneer days, coming west on the first schooners from New York and New England. They established a Masonic lodge in 1843 - three years before Milwaukee became a city - and that lodge spawned a dozen more in the next few decades.

One of them was the Ancient Arabic Order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine, a group whose initials, rearranged, spell out "a Mason."

The Shriners were a national order devoted to "fun and fellowship," with a fondness for vaguely Islamic rituals, costumes and titles. (Each temple elects a "potentate" every year.)

Milwaukee's Tripoli Shrine was founded in 1885, and it soon earned a reputation as "the Masonic playground." The group's fun found a purpose in 1922, when the first Shrine Hospital opened in Louisiana. It became part of a national network of hospitals that provide free orthopedic and burn care to children in need, with financial support provided by Shriners around the country.

In 1925, after sharing quarters with other Masonic groups for 40 years, the Tripoli Shrine decided to build a home of its own.

The group was drawn to the city's West End , a former mansion district that was beginning to sprout high-rise apartments and high-end institutional buildings.

Tripoli bought an opulent residence there, tore it down and broke ground for its new clubhouse in 1926.

The building that emerged was an extended fantasy on Islamic themes, inspired by the Taj Mahal but incorporating any number of other symbols.

Its complex tile patterns, gilded plasterwork and twin camels flanking the front entrance made the new temple an instant landmark. Dedicated in 1928, it provided a home for 13,000 Shriners throughout southeastern Wisconsin.

Our Savior's Lutheran Church, in the meantime, was growing and changing on the other side of the Menomonee Valley.

The congregation was founded in 1858 by Norwegian immigrants who had settled in the Walker's Point neighborhood because it was close to work.

Many had been seafarers in Norway, and they found jobs on the city's developing waterfront as sailors, shipbuilders and ship captains.

The congregation worshipped in a simple but substantial brick building that still stands on S. 9th and W. Scott streets. By the 1920s, members were starting to leave the Scott St. neighborhood, and the process of assimilation and dispersal gathered steam in the next two decades. The last regular Norwegian-language service was held there in 1943.

Increasingly scattered and increasingly prosperous, the members of Our Savior's made a bold decision after World War II. They decided to become a genuinely metropolitan congregation, and that required a change of address.

In 1946, Our Savior's bought the old Wehr mansion on Wisconsin Ave., right next door to the Tripoli Shrine.

The location was highly central, highly visible and still highly prestigious. For the old Norwegian congregation, moving across the valley to Wisconsin Ave. was literally moving uptown.

Our Savior's tore down the mansion and built a church worthy of its setting: a lannon stone landmark with seating for 1,300, plenty of meeting rooms and a 40-ton statue of Christ perched high above its main entrance. Dedicated in 1954, Our Savior's Church quickly became a regional center of Lutheran evangelism and education.

The 1950s were good for both church and shrine. Our Savior's membership nearly doubled, making it one of the largest Lutheran congregations in the Milwaukee area, and Tripoli benefited from an intense interest in all things fraternal.

The 1960s were another story. Changes in both society and the neighborhood began to create challenges for the Wisconsin Ave. neighbors. As its more distant members joined suburban congregations, Our Savior's felt its base erode. The growing presence of poverty in the surrounding blocks kept some newcomers away.

Tripoli found it hard to connect with a new generation that considered "lodge night" a tired anachronism, and the group's average age drifted to the north side of 60. Security problems, or the perception of security problems, were another issue.

Neither Our Savior's nor Tripoli raised a white flag. In recent years, as the surrounding neighborhood has shown signs of new life, so have its most distinctive landmarks.

The church has reinvented itself with a new emphasis on cultural diversity and community outreach. The shrine has done much the same on a secular level, seeking a broader membership and opening itself to the community. The ornate center is now available for weddings, parties, meetings, tours and even a monthly fish fry. The interior, gleaming under fresh coats of paint and metallic leaf, is well worth a visit.

Generations ago, two Milwaukee institutions planted themselves on 30th and Wisconsin. The neighbors are still there, still faithful to their original missions and still, after all these years, an endearing odd couple like no other you'll find in America.

John Gurda, a Milwaukee historian, writes for the Crossroads section on the first Sunday of each month.