The old Serbian Home in South St. Paul appeared abandoned on a recent weekday.
The sidewalks and steps had yet to be cleared of the previous night’s snowfall. Inside, the temperature hovered around 45 degrees, just enough to keep the pipes from freezing.
In the dated basement, where wedding receptions and other social gatherings were commonplace decades ago, only a few relics remained: a folded Serbian flag, some pictures and a donation box holding a handful of pennies.
But behind the scenes, a group of backers is trying to make the nearly century-old brick building lively once again.
Alex Stojmenovic, who owns a St. Louis Park real estate brokerage and property management firm, bought the building last spring with the hopes of turning it into a nonprofit community center that people can rent.
The sale also included an adjacent rental home on a double lot that Stojmenovic said could be split for parking.
“Look here,” Stojmenovic said while walking into the main hall. “Look at the stage, the wood floors. It’s a beautiful building. It just needs some work.”
Stojmenovic, 45, was born and raised in southern Serbia, where his mother still lives. He said the building, which was dedicated in 1924 and is on the National Register of Historic Places, should be a “bridge between the old generation of Serbians and the new generation.”
But that ethnic connection cannot be the only thing.
“It’s an expense, so you have to figure out a way to get people in here,” he said.
For many years, the building was run as a cultural and historical center by one man — Ted Trkla, a second-generation Serbian who was born and raised in South St. Paul. But it never caught on with locals or the Serb community across the state and was rarely visited.
And the old building’s expenses created massive debt, most of which was paid off by a local benefactor.
Tony Roszak, an 81-year-old lifelong South St. Paul resident, is part of a new board of directors tasked with figuring out ways to make the Serbian Home self-sufficient.
“Ted was really into the history, and Alex is thinking we need some cash, some cash flow,” Roszak said. “He’s right.”
Stojmenovic, who lives in Edina, said the first step is letting people know about the building, which is in a residential neighborhood at the corner of Third Avenue and Fourth Street. He moved to Minnesota in 2002, he said, but had not heard of the center until meeting Trkla 12 years later while at St. Sava Serbian Orthodox Church in South St. Paul.
“When Ted took me through the property, I was amazed that it even exists,” Stojmenovic said.
That’s been the common reaction from many Serbians he meets across the Twin Cities, he said.
“There are plenty of Serbs here but, for whatever reason, it’s hard to get them in one spot,” he said. “I can’t tell you how many people I’ve told about this and then they say, ‘What is the Serbian hall?’ ”
MANY IMMIGRANTS, MANY HALLS
At the turn of the 20th century, South St. Paul became a melting pot of immigrants from Romania, Croatia, Serbia and Poland who arrived looking for jobs in the stockyards and the two giant meatpacking plants.
They needed places to gather for wedding and funeral receptions, and began building their own halls. By 1911, Polish National Alliance Lodge 1033 was built along First Avenue. Soon, the Croatians and Serbians built their own halls in the same neighborhood.
The Serbian Home served as a school, lodge and social hall for Serbian functions and gatherings. Religious services were held on a small second-floor balcony until 1953, when St. Sava Serbian Orthodox Church opened a few blocks away.
Karen Hanson, who grew up in South St. Paul and owns The Coop restaurant a few blocks north of the Serbian Home, remembers how the halls were gathering spots for weddings, dances, wakes and other social events.
“Back in the day, the Serbian hall would have bands and stuff on the weekends,” she said, “and my parents would go and sometimes bring us kids.”
Hanson and her husband, Bob, had their wedding reception in the basement of the Serbian Home in March 1979.
“It was pretty common for people to have their wedding in church basements or the Serbian hall or the VFW,” she said. “A lot of people still have weddings, even to this day, at the Croatian Hall.”
But over the years, a series of events caused the Serbian Home to decline.
The home eventually lost its license to serve liquor, fell behind on taxes and largely went unused during the 1980s and early ’90s. Local residents, including Trkla, raised the money to save it from demolition.
The grassroots effort led to the building being designated as a national historic place in 1992. The only other historic places in the city are the former Stockyards Exchange Building on Concord Street and St. Stefan’s Romanian Orthodox Church.
In 1996, the city allowed the Serbian Home to reopen, but with a limit on the number of visitors and no liquor license. Some neighbors were concerned events at the home would create parking shortages.
In 2000, the state took the center’s title because of unpaid assessments. A Minneapolis developer then bought the property to build condominiums but abandoned the plan.
In 2008, the local benefactor loaned the center’s small board of directors money to buy the building from the developer.
A SHRINKING COMMUNITY
Mike Pavlovic, president of the St. Sava executive board, said the city’s Serbian community is just much smaller than what is used to be. First-generation Serbian immigrants have died, and many of their children have moved elsewhere in the Twin Cities.
“We’ve basically become a regional church now,” he said. “We have people coming from as far as Rochester, Mankato and the suburbs, all around. It’s not so much a South St. Paul church anymore.” He said they have about 50 members.
Pavlovic said he recently met with Stojmenovic to talk about the future of the Serbian Home.
“I respect what he’s doing to preserve the culture, but I am focused on the religious part of things and having the church survive,” Pavlovic said.
South St. Paul Mayor Jimmy Francis said the Serbian Home, the Polish Hall and the Croatian Hall “are pieces of our town that help make it unique.”
Francis noted how the Polish hall’s motto is “The best-kept secret in South St. Paul.” The Croatian Hall, referred to as “The Cro,” he said, is still a popular site for community meetings, banquets and other events.
“I’d say the Serbian Home is the forgotten hall,” he said. “But it’s getting new life with a new owner. Maybe that’s what it takes.”
‘I CAN’T DO IT ALONE’
The Serbian Home’s nonprofit status lapsed in the 1990s but was reinstated in 2010. The designation not only allows the center to forgo paying property taxes, but also should increase chances of getting grant money, Stojmenovic said.
Last summer, Stojmenovic hosted a lamb roast that attracted about 50 people.
“People came from all around, wanting to know what I’m going to do with the building,” he said. “I think they were concerned I was going to try to make the building into condos or something like that.”
Stojmenovic and volunteers have spent the past few months clearing out the building and organizing historic relics and other not-so-valuable items.
But Stojmenovic, a married father of four children ages 1 to 16, says he needs help.
“Everybody is afraid I’m going to ask for money,” he said. “I really don’t need that much to fix this, maybe with $30,000 or $40,000. But I need people to come help, maybe some young people to build a website, that sort of thing. What I do know is that I can’t do it alone.”