To those less familiar with the history of the Nazareth campus, the Old Laundry Building along Cemetery Drive is just that — a now empty building. But for the Sisters who spent much of their youth on the campus, the building holds fond memories of hardwork, hijinks and the occasional ironing mishap. On Jan. 30, laughter filled the Motherhouse Dining Room as Sisters gathered to say a fond and fittingly warm‑hearted farewell to a place that had quietly shaped generations of Community life.
The farewell was part celebration, part ritual, and part storytelling about the building that will soon be demolished on the campus property. It was not a somber goodbye, however, but one rich with gratitude and humor.
A photograph of the Old Laundry Building is displayed next to a laundry cart in the Dining Room during a farewell gathering.
“Today we remember a building that has served us well over these many, many years,” said Sister Theresa Knabel in her opening remarks. “Letting go of any building touches our hearts, even though we know its time has come.”
The program began with prayer, inviting everyone to reflect on the generations of Sisters and lay workers who labored within those brick walls. Sister Clare McNeil captured the spirit beautifully, thanking God “for one of your greatest gifts to us, the gift of memory,” and for all those who “mended us by their example of service, no matter what that service entailed.”
Archivist Veronica Priest then offered a brief history of the Laundry Building, tracing its roots back to the late 1800s, when Sisters washed clothes by hand using wringers and mangles. By 1900, a red‑brick laundry rose on campus, eventually powered by steam from the Nazareth powerhouse. “Power — talk about a game changer for doing laundry,” Priest said.
For decades, the building bustled with novices folding “an endless stream of towels, sheets and gowns,” sometimes wondering, Priest joked, “if laundry was eternal.” While the work eventually moved elsewhere, the building lived on as storage and, in more recent years, as home to “a lively family of raccoons, with occasional input from a snake or two.”
Sister Clare McNeil reads an “Ode to the Laundry” poem during a farewell gathering to say goodbye to the old campus building.
One of the most light‑hearted moments came with the reading of Ode to the Laundry, written and shared by Sister Clare. The poem honored blistered hands, the feared mangle machine, and the reality that they’ve “been replaced by washers and dryers galore.”
Storytelling followed as Sisters recalled days spent ironing and starching white caps with intense concentration, sometimes with unintended results. One Sister remembered carefully ironing a cap, placing it out in the sun to make it “even whiter,” only to watch helplessly from inside as a sudden rainstorm soaked it beyond repair.
Others shared stories of learning the fine art of cap ironing at the laundry’s long tables, practicing diligently on an old cap, only to scorch and split it straight down the middle when the iron lingered too long. A few smiled as they remembered slipping handwritten notes into folded pajamas for academy students, posing frozen union suits on the clothesline to look like they were dancing, and gathering on the laundry porch in the summer to enjoy the cool air.
Sisters take turns recounting days spent working in the laundry and the fun they found in everyday tasks.
There were mishaps, like a memorable mix-up involving red sheets that turned a priest’s laundry an unexpected shade of pink, and the rare occasion when the laundry opened on a Sunday after a Corpus Christi procession was drenched by a sudden storm, Sending sisters rushing in to restore soggy caps and veils.
Perhaps the most surprising memories were of joy-filled moments far removed from washing and folding. On non-laundry days, tables were pushed aside for square dances inside the building and hardwork was rewarded with special treats like bannock bread with honey and butter.
Friday’s farewell concluded with a folding of the “final sheet,” a somewhat humorous take on a ceremonial folding of a flag to honor the decades of unseen labor carried out within the building’s walls.
The Laundry Building will soon be demolished, but what it held cannot be taken down. It was never just a place for washing and ironing, but a classroom, a gathering space, a stage for laughter, and a training ground for service. Regardless of the site’s future use, the spirit of the old building will remain folded carefully into the living memory of the Sisters and the Community they continue to shape.