The Berkeley church where a man allegedly trashed the instruments and swung a five-foot pipe at contractors during Cal's move-in weekend hasn't held a service in five years — and prosecutors have now charged him with three felony assault counts.

The Aug. 15 attack at Trinity United Methodist Church made the news as a squatter story: a $20,000 vandalism, felony charges, a man with a prior record. What went unmentioned is why a full block of prime real estate steps from UC Berkeley — shut since 2020, partly condemned, and shopped to developers for years — is still standing empty and open enough for someone to break in and sleep inside. The incident is a snapshot of a stalled redevelopment: a landmark-eligible building left to decay while the Methodist conference that owns it waits on a payday.

Around 10:45 on a Saturday morning, contractors working at the shuttered Trinity United Methodist Church, on the corner of Dana Street and Bancroft Way, found that someone had gotten inside and torn the place up — broken electronics, toppled speakers, a smashed drum set, and roughly $20,000 in damage, as KTVU's Henry Lee reported (external source, opens in a new tab). A man was asleep in one of the rooms. The workers told him to leave; he refused, armed himself with a five-foot metal pipe, and attacked them once they phoned for help, according to Berkeley police spokesman Officer Byron White. Cellphone video shot by one of the contractors caught the man shouting that he had been asleep and was already being kicked out before the clip cuts off.

An officer with the campus police force, passing the scene, was waved down and made the arrest after a struggle. Prosecutors identified the man as Donald Malone, 28. Alameda County prosecutors filed (external source, opens in a new tab) four felony counts against him — one of vandalism, plus three of assault with a deadly weapon for swinging the pipe. Malone was already on probation from an earlier assault conviction, and the DA's office is now asking a judge to revoke it.

It unfolded directly across from the university's main recreation gym, during the weekend when thousands of students return to campus. One incoming freshman, Cyrus Andaz, told KTVU there is "a fine line" between someone who is simply homeless and someone "posing a threat" while swinging at people.

The building he was standing outside of is its own story. Trinity United Methodist has anchored this Southside corner since the 1920s and stopped functioning as a congregation years ago; the California-Nevada Annual Conference of the United Methodist Church voted to close it in September 2020. Much of the complex had already failed. In a public accounting of the property's future, the church's own Trinity Development Connectional Team described a site in dire shape (external source, opens in a new tab): structures neglected "for decades," heavy deferred maintenance, and a sanctuary closed since 1980 with water damage and unanswered questions about whether it is seismically sound. Part of the building, the team wrote, is "condemned." Its blunt conclusion: "'Do nothing' was not a viable option."

One incoming freshman, Cyrus Andaz, told KTVU there is "a fine line" between someone who is simply homeless and someone "posing a threat" while swinging at people.

The plan was to monetize the land. Rather than sell outright and "withdraw from ministry in the location where we have been for over one hundred years," the team recommended "selling the air" — leasing the development rights above the site to a builder while keeping ground-floor space for a church. Structured that way, the group estimated, it could net "$40-$50 million dollars for the Annual Conference." The conference retained DCG Strategies, a faith-focused development firm that has managed the property since 2019 and has marketed it as a redevelopment opportunity (external source, opens in a new tab) — about 1.26 acres across two parcels beside UC Berkeley, pitched for student or mixed-income housing.

Years later, no deal has closed and the block sits in limbo. The property has long been flagged on the Berkeley Landmarks Preservation Commission's radar as a candidate for landmark status, a designation that can slow demolition and complicate a new project. So the church stays as it is — deferred maintenance, boarded doors, and, this month, a man who got in through one of them.

That gap is the point. Berkeley has spent years fighting over how to add housing near its campus, and here sits a full institutional block doing nothing while its owner holds out for a nine-figure return. The smashed drum set and broken instruments are a real loss. They are also the smallest numbers in this story.