When they first drove by the former St. Francis Xavier Catholic Church at the corner of Saw Mill and Landenberg roads in the deep winter of the 2021 pandemic, neither Angus Fredenburg or Esther Han knew that it had once served as a house of faith.

They also did not know that it was once the home of the renowned artist Bernie Felch and his wife Roz duPont, nor that it served as an informal meeting place for a long litany of artists who formed an alchemy of creativity and conversation there.

What first brought the newly married couple to Landenberg was out of necessity. Fredenburg, who was then living in New Hampshire and Han, who was living in northern Manhattan, were seeking to find a house within a 20-minute drive of Esther’s new job as a gynecologic surgeon at Christiana Care in Newark – but as they drove around Landenberg that day – and as their phones buzzed with Zillow postings and GPS directions -- they saw the home for the first time and suddenly, their car made a dramatic U-turn.

They saw its tall spire, the mosaic of its stained-glass windows and the stately front door that had once welcomed parishioners for decades. Immediately, the house exuded the charm, history and majestic possibility that all of the other homes they had visited for did not.

And there it was, in front of one of the most recognizable structures in Landenberg – a ‘For Sale’ sign for everyone driving past it to see…and it was yellow, and because it was yellow, they stopped.

“My parents’ house in Virgnia was red brick and white siding and looked solid and serious, but I always thought that yellow houses were fun and sunny and happy looking,” Esther said. “There weren’t a ton of homes on the market at the time, but before we were to call it quits and go back home, we drew a circle around Wilmington and put ‘Landenberg’ on our GPS and began driving. When we pulled into the driveway, I thought that this was going to be a lot of work. I don’t have the bandwidth or the knowledge to fix houses, but I also knew that Angus loves old houses.”

They called their realtor, and the following weekend, Angus and Esther made an offer on the house. Their nearly two-year journey to turn history into a home was about to begin.

‘His tools are here, and his spirit is everywhere’

Perhaps it is just the simple order of things, but the percentage of couples who begin to envision their lives together by way of an extensive renovation of an old church is measured in the low

single digits. There’s a reason for this, and it mostly has to do with the fact that taking on a project of such magnitude requires the organizational skills of a master builder and the patience of several saints. For Angus and Esther, their new living space became a punch list of crucial overhauls that involved heavy lifting and a serious investment of time. While Esther was at the hospital, Angus and teams of contractors faced the reality of necessity: The electrical units in the church’s stone foundation needed to be upgraded. The flooring needed to be repaired. Walls needed complete replacement. The interior ceiling desperately needed patching. An entirely new roof needed to be installed and everywhere they looked, they saw outdated infrastructure that did not mesh with modern living.

Plan by plan and project by project, the old church began to transform itself from quiet vacancy and memories to one filled with dust, design sketches that reimagined spaces.

Throughout the early stages of its renovation, Angus – an educator by profession -- drew inspiration from his late father, Tom, who retired several years ago from his long-term position as a legal aid attorney in Concord, New Hampshire to start a new career as a home renovator that created housing opportunities for low-income families.

“My father gave me the idea that crazy things like this were possible, and when he died, I inherited a couple of daunting home reconstruction projects that were halfway done, so during the pandemic I got to help renovate a home that was built in 1789, nearly by myself,” Angus said. “Esther would check in on me from time to time to see if was still committed to the project, but I was so excited about it from the get-go. Some of Esther’s friends asked us, ‘Why are you doing this, renovating a church that was built in 1893?’ But those from my family knew that it all made sense, and that my father would have been on board from day one.

“His tools are here, and his spirit is everywhere. I know it’s true for a lot of people that we eventually turn into our parents, and in my case, I am pleasantly surprised how much I have turned into my father.”

Tom Fredenburg was not the only father who made an imprint on the home’s renovation. Esther’s father CJ – a long-time professional roofer -- oversaw the construction of the metal roof.

“Seeing him here reaffirmed that he knows so much about roofs and about the construction of homes,” she said. “It was fun to have him be here so frequently, because it gave him a reason to see one of his daughters. He would drive three hours from Viriginia, help oversee the construction of the roof, then drive back home so that he could get back to work the next morning.”

Following the completion of the home’s major construction projects, Angus and Esther took on the role of interiors designers, adding cosmetic elements like repairing and installing a stained-glass, half-circle window that had been in an 1887 church; and outfitting the home with one-of-a-kind accent mark accessories like a galvanized steel cabinet they found at a salvage yard in Philadelphia.

What had once been a portion of a cavernous, 22-foot-high ceiling above of the main living space was divided by the installation of a catwalk, and what had once served as the church’s altar was fitted with modern appliances to become an open, airy and natural light-filled kitchen that now welcomes guests, including the nearly 50 friends and relatives who joined Angus and Esther last Thanksgiving.

‘The door was always open’

Lindsey Felch, Bernie's daughter, lived in the old church off and on for nearly 40 years, as well as in an apartment on the property, beginning when her fatherpurchased the church in the 1960s. It is not entirely coincidental that she has spent her life as an art consultant; the home served as a layover spot and visiting place for Bernie and Roz’s many friends and fellow artists, who would come by the home for four-hour dinners and engage in the language of conversation. There were full bookshelves all around the home, comfortable chairs, and art.

“There were always comings and goings with unbelievably smart, funny, educated, talented, diverse and creative people, and that was just part of life there,” Lindsey said. “The door was always open, and there was never a lock on it.” During a period when she was living at the home full time, Lindsey and her father engaged in an endless series of puttering tasks around the property – a mended fence, a newly-built bookcase, a new art installation in one of the work sheds. “My Dad formed a good portion of who I am today,” she said. “My experience growing up there gave me a comfort level with all kinds of art and various points of view and acceptance. Dad was very much about equality and peace and being creative at every possible moment during the day. “I remember coming back from months-long visits to other countries and taking my first step inside again and feeling at home.” After placing the home for sale in 2021, Lindsey heard a myriad of proposed uses for the old church – none of which suited her – and then she met Angus and Esther. “The book I wrote about my father was on the piano, and it was the first thing they noticed when they saw the church for the first time,” Lindsey said. “Immediately, they fell in love with what my father had done and are very careful about the things that I left there – like my father’s sculptures and walls that are permanent installations. “They cherish all of it and are great stewards to what was here before them.”

‘This building has a heartbeat’

The time Angus thinks most about his home’s time as a church is when he admires the 16-foot by 20-foot wooden beams that run across the basement ceiling.

“I think about how important this building was to the people who built it and came together in it,” he said. “They weren’t just slapping something together but using the best materials and working with the best tradesmen. Back in the 1890s, when you knew you were going to build a church that would become as important as this would be for the community, you brought in the best people and did the work right.

“When I am there, I am overwhelmed by the sense that the literal and metaphorical foundation of this building is so strong and well-done because it was intended to be an important place for people.”

While they have called the Yellow House their home for the past several months – and although several interior and exterior projects still remain – Angus and Esther said there are moments when they take the time to acknowledge their accomplishment – to give an old church and the long-time home and studio of an artist – a new chapter.

“Angus and I have lived our lives together in so many different places – from Guatemala to Concord, New Hampshire, where I would visit him -- and from Baltimore to Harlem where he would visit me, but this is our first home together,” Esther said. “After a relationship built over long distances, we get to call this amazing place our home and I feel so lucky.

This place is still a sanctuary for me -- a quiet place at the end of a stressful day, a place to gather and feed the people I love, a place where our family, our neighbors, and our friends from around the world can come to gather around the woodstove and talk late into the night over a glass of wine.”

“This building has a heartbeat and it’s had a heartbeat throughout its life,” Angus said. “Sometimes new construction can feel cold and impersonal because it hasn’t yet developed that heartbeat, but here, we can definitely feel the energy and the overwhelming deposit of spirit of this place, from the people who have worshipped here and those who have lived here.”

To contact Staff Writer Richard L. Gaw, email [email protected].