Faded brick lettering for the Salvation Army Harbour Light still graces Winnipeg’s historic Citadel No. 1.
Salvation Army Citadel No. 1 (221 Rupert Avenue, Winnipeg)
Every so often, when walking through Winnipeg’s Exchange District, something unexpected and beautiful appears in the details of the buildings. Faded brick lettering, hand-painted long ago, still clings to the walls as if whispering stories of the past. This particular sign, for The Salvation Army Harbour Light, can be found on the historic Citadel No. 1 at 221 Rupert Avenue. Time and weather have softened the paint, but the bold letters remain visible, reminding passersby of an era when signs like these were not just advertisements, but essential markers of place and purpose in the city.
The Salvation Army Citadel No. 1 has deep roots in Winnipeg’s history. Originally constructed in 1899, the building was a central gathering place for worship, music, and outreach, serving the city’s growing population during a time of rapid expansion. The painted sign, still visible today, speaks to the Salvation Army’s longstanding commitment to community service—offering shelter, food, and spiritual guidance to those in need. In many ways, this weathered wall is more than just brick and paint; it’s a testament to resilience and continuity across generations.
What makes signs like this so compelling is their ability to carry memory in such a physical way. Unlike newer, digital signage that can vanish overnight, ghost signs—those faded reminders on brick walls—become part of the architecture itself. They remind us that cities are layered with stories, each one leaving its mark. The Harbour Light lettering stands as both an artifact and a work of art, drawing the eye and sparking curiosity about the people and lives once shaped by the mission behind the words.
Today, the Citadel remains an important heritage site, and the preservation of these ghost signs adds to the atmosphere of Winnipeg’s historic downtown. Walking past, it’s easy to imagine the music of brass bands, the gathering of communities in need, and the voices of those who came seeking refuge. The sign isn’t just a relic—it’s a living connection to the city’s past, etched into the very bricks that continue to hold it up.
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