OLD HOSPITAL RELUCTANTLY REVEALS TIME CAPSULE

Don't give up, never leave early and always look inside.

Those are the things St. Francis Medical Center officials likely will remember the next time they search for a time capsule.

Administrators, demolition contractors and well-wishers gathered at the old St. Francis Hospital building on Pacific Street Thursday to see if the cornerstone of the building, once removed, would reveal mementos from the past.

The building, which was constructed in 1913 and added to in 1938, is being demolished to make room for an apartment complex.

"In many respects, it's kind of a sad day. But it's also a bright day," said St. Francis president and CEO Steven Bjelich prior to the cornerstone's removal. "Hopefully we'll find something in this, but there's no guarantee."

As the group watched, a backhoe operator lifted the cornerstone, which was wrapped in a thick, cloth belt, away from its snug home in the brick building and gently set it amid the rubble on the ground.

"We really don't know if they put anything in it or not," said Mary Spell, the hospital's director of marketing and planning, who was taking photographs of the event and fighting back tears at seeing the building in ruins.

"I have mixed feelings about this. It makes me sad," Spell said. "I was born here. I had three of my four children here. I can hardly stand it."

As the Latin-inscribed cornerstone sat staring at the group of onlookers, Bjelich and medical center board chairman Harry Rediger examined the hole where the cornerstone had been.

Using a hammer and chisel, a contractor removed some of the bricks underneath the cornerstone's former home. But nothing apparently had been hidden beneath or behind the cornerstone when it was placed in the building nearly 87 years ago.

Disappointed, the crowd, one-by-one, began to wander away.

Herbert Huggins, who owns apartments in the neighborhood, watched the search with his 3-year-old grandson, Alex Huggins.

Three of Huggins' children were born in the hospital in 1955, 1956 and 1962, he said, and watching the building being torn down was difficult for him.

"It's sad. It holds a lot of memories. I spent three months here when I was 18 years old as a patient," he said. "I remember the good care I got. The sisters were always so nice, and the employees always took pride in their work."

He said he remembers receiving a little extra help from the staff when he was discharged from the hospital.

"The employees all took up a collection of money and gave it to me. They knew I didn't have any money," he said. "You don't see that much anymore."

As Huggins and Alex walked away, and as the hospital officials prepared to drive off, one of the contractors yelled.

They found the time capsule.

Actually it was a copper box about 6 inches by 8 inches. The time capsule was tucked up inside the cornerstone.

It had been spotted by crew members as the backhoe lifted the cornerstone high overhead to move it to a safer spot on the ground.

"I just couldn't believe they wouldn't put something away," Spell said happily as she made her way back to the cornerstone from her car.

Once the box was opened, which required a contractor and an electric saw, Bjelich and Rediger ceremoniously revealed its contents to the group.

Wrapped in tissue paper were an Oct. 11, 1913, Daily Republic newspaper, a prayer card, a copper statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, another statue, a medallion on a safety pin, a broken glass medicine bottle with a cork and a water-damaged letter written in what appeared to be Latin.

Spell said the contents will be cleaned up and put on display near the new hospital's main entrance.

Bjelich said the new owner of the property will retain the cornerstone, but the St. Francis name stone that was on top of the building will be moved to the current hospital and used somehow.

Sister Jane Kiefer watched as the contents of the box were revealed and helped identify some of the items.

She worked in the hospital briefly before the move to the new building on the west side of town. She said the hospital has special meaning for her because her father died there in 1960.

"It's always a rebirth," she said of the hospital's demolition. "Something dies. Something's reborn. That's what life is all about."