
With a steady hand and thoughtful demeanor, Stephen Boyle led a team of apprentices to construct one of the most celebrated structures in New York City, the Tower of St. Paul at the Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine.
Known to most as a kind-hearted lad, Steve was responsible for constructing 57 feet of the tower all while weathering construction challenges, cathedral politics and financial dust-ups that only a place like Manhattan can produce.

A native of north England, Steve began his career in 1975 as a general laborer in concrete work, scaffold construction and later as a bricklayers’ laborer. His interest soon gravitated towards stone masonry. Surrounded by centuries of noble stone structures, this early impulse of Steve seemed a worthy pursuit. In fact, one of the most notable landmarks is that of York Minster Cathedral and where Steve’s stone masonry career began. This church dates from the mid-thirteenth to the late-fifteenth century, with sections going back to the seventh century.
During the 1970’s, a standard apprenticeship lasted four years beginning at the ages of fifteen to sixteen years old. Steve arrived at age twenty, so his time was reduced to three years with a condition he not pursue stone carving. At that time, the waiting list for stone carver candidates was too long. This request suited Steve as he was already impressed with the complexities, and challenges of the stone masonry trade that he had experienced thus far.
As a cathedral apprentice, Steve’s studies included geometry, architectural theory, as well as construction practices. Steve’s first post was to train as a banker mason. Apprentices at York Minster started “on the banker” to make them aware of the time and care involved in completing a masonry piece. This starting point also encouraged an apprentice to carefully handle a finished stone prior to and during the fixing process.
Banker work, which included learning to square up a rough block before gradually advancing to more complex geometric forms, was considered a core element of the masonry trade. Steve had the good fortune to train under master stonemason Paul Tumman and a host of other seasoned craftsmen.

While working at the Minster, Steve contributed stones to significant parts of the building, including the Chapter House buttresses, copings, flying buttress, multiple moulded window jambs and mullions, as well as restoration work on the Minster’s South Transept. His first masonry piece was a stone window mullion which was placed fourteen feet above the ground.
Throughout his apprenticeship, Steve attended technical college once a week and inevitably was awarded a City & Guilds Certificate in Masonry. Though the work at Minster was rewarding, at the end of his apprenticeship Steve began to feel the pull to ply his trade in a broader field. With hopes to expand his knowledge, Steve set off to become a true journeyman. This decision presented opportunities to engage in projects throughout the UK. Salisbury Cathedral became his first job as a journeyman where he restored windows in the library. He was also fortunate to participate in the restoration of many churches within the Cathedral’s diocese. After Salisbury, Steve expanded into work for commercial buildings and in the cities of Leeds and Newcastle. From there he traveled to Glasgow, Scotland and was part of a construction crew for the Burrel Museum. Even with these professional experiences, Steve’s masonry career was actually just on the cusp.
Far Across the Atlantic

Meanwhile, in New York City, a celebration was brewing as the stonemasons of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine had crafted enough stones to resume construction of the Southwest Tower, thus ending a forty-year pause in the building of the cathedral.
This was no small piece of news in the stone industry. While reading an article, Steve began to muse about building a cathedral in America. As new construction this offered a very different set of possibilities and challenges than the preservation work of Britain. Steve learned that the construction of the tower would be directed by James Bambridge, a Master Builder well known for British post-war building restoration and reconstruction. It seemed a long shot, but Steve decided to contact Mr. Bambridge about the project. To his astonishment, Bambridge made a quick reply. And after “a rather intense interview” the position was awarded. Soon Steve was packing his bags to oversee the construction of the Southwest Tower at St. John the Divine in New York City. He was twenty-five years old.
FROM THE NORTH OF ENGLAND TO THE UPPER WEST SIDE OF MANHATTAN
Upon Steve’s arrival in NY, he was tasked with a formidable to-do list. He had expected to be working initially with Bambridge to set the building lines and then install the first course of the tower. In reality, scaffold erection was still in progress and was not up to the minimum height that would allow safe access. Meaning the “setting out” of the building lines was now on hold and the critical path was to prepare operations at ground level and for an upcoming promotional event.
“The Jerusalem Stone” was a gift to the Cathedral, and the setting of this important cornerstone had already been publicized with a date set. Steve also learned that the courses underneath the cornerstone were not in place. So… with only a few days before the cornerstone ceremony, and with scaffolding not high enough to access this area there was a mad scramble to rig a temporary lifting system. An erection of beams and chain falls at topside became Steve’s primary focus. This meant that the important task of setting the tower’s geometry, meaning the reference lines used for all walls and corners, must wait until after the ceremony.

And as there was no money for a crane, all finished stones and other materials required for the event were conveyed to the topside by a rack & pinion personnel lift. This is a very labor-intensive process. What’s more, the stones meant to be installed under the “Jerusalem stone” were buried within the mountain of stacks on the north side of the Cathedral. Steve would need to reorganize these stones and bring them to the staging area on the south side. To achieve this, a small temporary but level road had to be built connecting the uneven landscape to the southwest corner and staging area. This was a critical step towards transporting stone and other materials to the lift. Again, due to budget constraints there was a lack of basic moving equipment, therefore all stones were moved manually and on “horses”, which were short planks and rollers. This was very much a ground-up operation for Boyle, and Steve managed to keep things in order, and the event went off without a hitch.

Steve’s duties were not limited to work on the tower. He was also asked to team up with Alan Bird to develop the overall training program. Steve was the construction foreman, but other duties included banker masonry and instruction, estimating, off-loading quarry blocks, slab splitting, and template making.

The tower crew was hired on a seasonal basis and often without skills. With the exception of a small core group of masons, Steve was tasked with training a perpetual stream of new recruits every spring and summer. There was also a period when Alan Bird, Clerk of the Works, left the cathedral to pursue his own life as a mason in rural New York where he resided. This meant that the day-to-day responsibilities of running the entire operation fell on Steve Boyle.

Eventually, the extensive stockpile of stones made the 200 ft. climb to the top, and the tower slowly began to rise. Topside, the team relied on chain hoists and I-beam trolleys. This system didn’t always allow the stones to be positioned directly over the exact landing spots, and most were too heavy to man-handle. Therefore, a lot of acrobatic scaffold rigging was involved.
Steve’s crew consisted of two masons and a helper setting stones, along with two brick and block masons infilling the wall cavity and packing joggles. Joggles were “v-shaped” grooves cut vertically between the stones to help bond them together by packing with mortar. Three masons’ tenders were required to keep the stones, bricks, and mortar delivered posthaste, as well as two banker masons fine-tuning the finished stonework. As momentum picked up, Steve formed another crew headed up by Tim Smith.

There was a fair amount of basic ashlar work to fix but ornate gablets, large cornice stones, and delicately carved tracery always presented a challenge. With some 12,000 stones in total and considering the overall height of the tower, the perimeters for the depth of material were substantial. The tower would also house heavy vibrating bells. Hence, the need for stout walls.

As the stone cutters and carvers tailored the stones from quarry blocks, there were times when it seemed the vast stockpile might become a permanent reminder of a grand dream unfulfilled. Fortunately, with the exception of a few hundred stones that have remained grounded, Steve Boyle met his calling with humility and reassuring competence. His contribution cannot be overstated.

Saint Paul’s Tower and the Cathedral’s building program have enjoyed many notable years of success and praise. Steve’s unwavering efforts supported the aspirations of many by linking the Stoneyard Institute to those who had previously toiled, thus making The Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine an enduring place of hope. Thanks must surely go to Stephen Boyle for his leadership, integrity, generosity and the opportunity to witness the rise of this structure. It’s a remarkable legacy.
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