1852
The new church, complete with sacristy and bell tower, enabled us to provide for those youngsters who wished to attend sacred services on feast days, the night school, and day classes too. But how were we to provide for the multitude of poor children who were appealing for shelter all the time? This was the more acute because the explosion of the powder magazine the year before had almost ruined our ancient building. In that moment of supreme need, we decided to build a new wing on the house. In order to continue using the old building, we began the new one on a site a bit apart. It stretched from the end of the present refectory to the print foundry.
The builders made rapid progress. Although autumn was already well along, they reached roof level. In fact, all the trusses had been put in place, all the crosspieces nailed in, and the tiles were stacked up on the beams ready to be laid down neatly. Then a torrential rain interrupted all work. Water poured down for days and nights, flowing from the beams and the crosspieces; it wore and washed away the fresh mortar, leaving the walls only of soaked bricks and stones.
Around midnight, when we were all in bed, we heard a loud rumble which became louder and more frightening by the moment. Everyone woke up and, completely ignorant of what was happening, utterly terrified, wrapped in blankets and sheets, ran from the dormitory and fled in confusion with no idea where to go, with only the idea of putting distance between himself and the danger, as one can imagine. The noise and the chaos got worse. The roof framework and the tiles mixed with the wall materials as everything collapsed into ruins with a mighty roar.
Since that construction had stood against the wall of the lower, older building, we feared that everything lay flattened under the pile of rubble. But, as it proved, the only harm was the horrendous noise, which caused no personal injury.
City engineers came to inspect things in the morning. When Chevalier Gabbetti saw another pillar cracked at the base and leaning over a dormitory, he exclaimed: You should go and give thanks to Our Lady of Consolation. Only a miracle is keeping that pillar up. If it had fallen, it would have buried in rubble Don Bosco and the thirty boys sleeping in the dormitory below.
As the building was still unfinished, most of the loss was the builder’s. Our damage was estimated at 10,000 francs. The accident took place at midnight on 2nd December 1852.
Amid the continual sad afflictions which befall the poor human race, there is always the loving hand of the Lord to lighten our misfortunes. If the disaster had happened a couple of hours earlier, it would have buried our night school pupils. They finished their lessons at ten, and when they came out of their classrooms, about 300 of them, they used to run round the empty building under construction for half an hour or so. A little later the collapse occurred.
Not only did the advanced season no longer allow work on our ruined house to be completed; we could not even begin to rebuild part of it. In the meantime, who would provide for us in such straits? What could we do for so many boys with such limited facilities, and these half-ruined? We made a virtue of necessity. After the walls of the old church had been reinforced, it became a dormitory. We then transferred classes to the new church, which was therefore a church on feast days, a school during the week.
The bell tower beside the Church of St Francis de Sales was also built in this year. Our benefactor Mr Michael Scannagatti presented us with an elegant set of candlesticks for the high altar, which are still one of the most beautiful furnishings of this church.