It’s Christmastime in the 1940s and 1950s. Outside the Hamilton Funeral Home, on Main Street in Hoopeston, stands a miniature church. It’s approximately seven feet tall, with clapboard siding, shutters, a bell tower and music piped in from next door.
Peek inside, and the magic continues. It has wooden pews – pint-sized, of course – plus an ornate wooden lectern, chairs, flags and even a little collection plate big enough to hold pennies.
Danville’s Carol Smith Sheets remembers it well. Her multi-talented grandfather, Roy Frank Smith, made every bit of it by hand. She still treasures one of the sanctuary chairs, all nine inches of it.
“I don’t know how long it took him to build the little church. He made absolutely everything (inside and out),” Sheets said. “We are talking about a time when you didn’t have all the automated toys. It was a much gentler, quieter time … it was really something to have that little church, with the music coming out. The door would be open, and people could bend down and look inside. It had electric lights.
“It was an ‘Alice in Wonderland’ thing. You could imagine, if you were little yourself, wanting to go inside and look around.”
Sheets, a Danville native, was born in 1938. Based on old photographs, she thinks that her grandfather built the church during World War II. Although he owned a farm south of Hoopeston, he and his wife lived in town. He worked at the funeral home, assisting at visitations, carving headstones and driving the ambulance.
“I would guess that somewhere along the line, he saw a picture of a New England church that inspired him,” Sheets says. “I feel sure that he had no architectural plans.”
He didn’t need any. Roy Frank Smith (1887-1959) grew up on a farm and learned how to work with his hands. He was a farmer, artist, basket weaver, woodworker and carpenter who built his own house in Hoopeston. He could sew and cook. He spent years caring for his wife, who had Parkinson’s disease. One of his sons was a self-taught printer, with his own shop; another son fixed watches and clocks for fun. Sheets is a talented painter.
The little church was Roy Smith’s masterpiece. The wood came from crates discarded by grocery stores. It must have taken him years to build it and furnish it.
Sheets says it must have come apart in sections, for easy storage after each Christmas.
It was an attraction outside the funeral home from the mid-1940s until the mid-1950s.
“We don’t really know what happened to it, but we wish we could once again see it each Christmas,” Sheets said.
No matter. It lives on in her memory, and so does her beloved grandpa.
“He was a very quiet man who never complained – just a loving, quiet man,” she says. “He always had corny jokes for us. I remember him making popcorn balls – he had to shell the corn, pop it, then cook the syrup. It was a lot of work, but he did that for his grandchildren.”
“Grandpa just had a real, God-given talent to do all the things he did. He was a special man.”