In Kern County, an abandoned church gets a second life as housing for former foster youth


The church at Oildale Drive and Minner Avenue has stood on the corner since 1954, built after an earthquake damaged the Oildale Church of Christ building. Since then, the church has passed through various denominations and congregations until it was abandoned in 2021.

But the Kern County Housing Authority saw another life for the church building, in an often-overlooked area of ​​the county. Oildale, an unincorporated city north of Bakersfield, borders the Kern River Oil Field, one of the largest active oil fields in California. The city was founded in the early 20th century when workers flooded the area to work on oil rigs. It is where musicians Buck Owens and Merle Haggard were raised and trained.

Today, the barren hills of the Kern River oil field are still dotted with operating rigs. But Oildale, population 36,000, has largely stagnated. Nearly a third of its residents live in poverty, and community leaders struggle with high rates of opioid addiction, dilapidated housing and empty commercial spaces. The church is located in a quiet neighborhood of modest homes with overgrown yards and faded white fences.

The housing authority, a county agency charged with creating affordable housing opportunities, saw potential in the building's elegant touches and sturdy walls. Their Sunday school classrooms could be converted into studios and one-bedroom units for former foster youth still struggling to get back on their feet. The chapel, with its stained glass window, softly lit chandeliers and walls adorned with handwritten Bible verses, could be converted into a community room. Thus, within two years, the church received a second life.

Isabel Medina is an on-site manager and resident at Project Cornerstone. Like other young residents, she is a former foster care ward who struggled to find stable employment and housing after aging out of the system.

(Brian van der Brug/Los Angeles Times)

“It's been an anchor for the neighborhood for several years and gone through different phrases, and now it's in a completely different phase,” said Stephen M. Pelz, executive director of the housing authority. “Often when there are vacant buildings that don't sell right away, they end up having problems, vandalism or burning down. “It was nice to be able to preserve the building.”

With funding from Project Homekey, the state's multimillion-dollar effort to convert dilapidated motels and commercial properties into supportive housing, and in partnership with Covenant Community Services, the authority purchased the church from Shekinah Ministries in 2022 for $1.5 million. After extensive renovation, the site reopened in January as the Project Cornerstone housing complex.

Today, the hallways smell faintly of fresh paint and the 19 air-conditioned units are occupied by young residents who are also starting over.

About a mile away, in a commercial area, the housing authority is trying another novel renovation: converting a former doctor's office, which also served as a tattoo parlor, into 15 housing units. The project is in a blighted section of Oildale, sandwiched between an optical lens store and an aquatic pet store. The storefront that was being renovated had been empty for years.

“It was really horrible, an eyesore for the entire community,” said Randy Martin, executive director of Covenant Community Services, a nonprofit community group that will manage the two locations.

The housing authority purchased the storefront for $510,000 in 2022. When renovations began, Martin said, the group faced drug addicts breaking in, stealing appliances and setting fires behind the building.

Still, the project moves forward. Each unit will have a doorbell and space for a bed and kitchen. The plan includes a front patio where residents can relax and socialize.

Housing at the church complex is open to youth ages 18 to 25 who have exited the foster care system, along with their spouses and children. The converted doctor's office is reserved for former foster youth ages 18 to 21. Tenants pay rent as they can afford, on a sliding fee scale, and utilities are covered.

Pelz said subsidies and maintenance will be covered by a combination of rental income and state and local rental assistance funds.

A young man opens the window of a tidy apartment.

Al'Lyn Cline, a former foster youth, lives in a small but tidy apartment in Project Cornerstone. It's the first time in years that she has her own bathroom.

(Brian van der Brug/Los Angeles Times)

When he moved into the converted church on Oildale Drive, Al'Lyn Cline, 22, was the only person who lived there for about two weeks. After months of construction, the church began to “settle” and at night she heard the creaking of pipes and floorboards.

Cline, originally from Texas, lived in foster care as a child. Before coming to church, she stayed in a sober living home with 12 other men. They shared a refrigerator, cramped bathrooms, and limited parking space.

At the church, Cline has a study furnished with a microwave, stove and refrigerator. She has her own bathroom for the first time in years. Her room, a space that used to house cassette recordings of weekly sermons, is on the second floor and has a skylight that allows for a flood of natural light.

A close-up of boots neatly lined up along the wall of an apartment.

Al'Lyn Cline keeps her boots neatly in her apartment.

(Brian van der Brug/Los Angeles Times)

“It's really deep and has a uniqueness of its own,” Cline said of the setup.

Cline, who is Christian, also feels connected to the church in a religious sense. She tries to be respectful of the building, knowing its history as a place of worship.

A man looks out from the balcony at what used to be a church sanctuary.

Randy Martin is executive director of Covenant Community Services, a community group that manages the Cornerstone Project.

(Brian van der Brug/Los Angeles Times)

The Cornerstone Project is one of a series of recent efforts Kern County has undertaken to create affordable supportive housing options for homeless people and those at risk of becoming homeless. Those who work with youth in foster care know all too well that housing instability is a danger they face as they age out of the system.

The county's point-in-time count in 2023 found 1,948 people lacked permanent housing, according to the Bakersfield-Kern Regional Homeless Collaborative. About 48% of the population was housed, a figure that has been trending upward as the county has expanded emergency shelter and transitional housing initiatives. About 120 of the homeless people counted were people under 24 years of age.

Martin, of Covenant Community Services, said the housing project is “stemming the tide of homelessness for foster youth.” Residents are assigned case managers and mentors to help them find educational and employment opportunities, and can learn job skills in the organization's cafeteria.

A cheerful child runs down a freshly painted hallway.

Isabel Medina, left, watches as her daughter runs toward program director Samantha Imhoof Tran. Rosalinda celebrated her second birthday at Project Cornerstone, with a party in the old chapel.

(Brian van der Brug/Los Angeles Times)

Isabel Medina, 23, is a site manager and resident of the Project Cornerstone complex. At age 13, she was taken from an abusive home and placed in foster care. For years, she moved between foster families before leaving the system at age 18. She has struggled to keep a steady job, working in the fields, in a shopping center, at Goodwill. She was homeless twice and slept in her car for four months. At age 21 she became pregnant with her daughter, Rosalinda.

With the help of Samantha Imhoof Tran, program manager for Covenant Community Services, Medina was named on-site manager of the Cornerstone Project.

Rosalinda celebrated her second birthday there in December, with a party in the old chapel. A stained glass window depicting a shepherd illuminated the room. The two-year-old, with a quick smile and high-pitched laugh, went up and down the stairs and they danced on stage, Medina said.

“It can definitely be creepy, especially at night when I have to check all the doors and make sure everything is secured,” Medina said. “But when you fill this room, it is very hopeful and magical at the same time.”

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