SAN FERNANDO MISSION BEING REBUILT AGAIN : 199-YEAR-OLD COMPLEX WAS MADE TO LAST.

Byline: Mary Schubert Daily News Staff Writer

Built by Gabrielino Indians and Franciscan friars and named for a Spanish king, Mission San Fernando Rey de Espana has survived natural disasters, exposure to the elements, and years of neglect during its two centuries along the former El Camino Real.

Most recently, the Northridge Earthquake dealt a damaging blow to the state historic landmark, jolting loose a west wall and cracking plaster throughout the complex.

To shore up the buildings against future temblors and to repair the damage that has waited nearly 30 months for attention, the Archdiocese of Los Angeles hired a Walnut firm that fixed the San Gabriel Mission damaged in the 1987 Whittier Narrows quake.

Crews from California Restoration Builders, which specializes in adobe work, will drill steel rods, a half-inch in diameter and 4 feet long, into the stucco-covered adobe walls to seismically strengthen the mission complex. Only the church, which already had a steel frame, wasn't damaged in the Northridge Quake, said Kevin Feeney, business manager and curator of the mission.

(Reduced to rubble in the 1971 Sylmar Quake, the church was rebuilt as true to the original as possible, while still meeting the seismic codes of two decades ago, Feeney said.)

Through a $1 million grant from the Federal Emergency Management Agency, the mission will be renovated and restored, and most of the grounds will remain open to the public. The church, Feeney added, will continue holding weddings and Masses elsewhere on the grounds during construction.

``The building's ability to respond to a seismic event will be substantially improved,'' said Bud Soto, project manager for California Restoration Builders. ``When you consider that this building was constructed 200 years ago by Indians with little or no education, and it's made of dirt and straw . . . it boggles the mind that this building could have sustained so many events,'' Soto said. ``Then again, a four- to six-foot-thick wall can probably handle quite a shake.''

Damaged most heavily in the Jan. 17, 1994, quake was the convento, the one-time living quarters for the priests and guest rooms for travelers. It is the oldest and most historic of the mission's four buildings, Feeney said.

Workers also will fill cavities as wide as three inches between the walls to further stabilize the two-story convento, and they will inject a special adobe mixture in the walls to fill structural cracks, said Ronald Mayle, superintendent of the construction firm.

In the convento's attic, wooden timbers will be bolted vertically in place. ``That strengthens the wall and also ties the floor to the ceiling,'' Mayle explained.

Crews also will seismically reinforce the mission buildings that house a museum, gift shop, meeting hall, the old workshops and the major-domo's quarters, Feeney said.

The mission has been restored and rebuilt at various times, highlighting a 199-year history of resilience and unlikely comebacks.

When Mexico broke away from Spain, the government didn't have enough money to support the California missions. The padres left the San Fernando Mission in the 1800s; ownership of the land and buildings changed hands over the years, and the grounds deteriorated. Feeney said the sanctuary was used as a barn; local ranchers also scavenged the complex's roof tiles, which protected the earthen structures from rain, and as a result many of the adobe walls melted.

The 17th in a chain of 21 settlements running the length of California, San Fernando Mission was founded Sept. 8, 1797, by Father Fermin Lasuen, a Spanish missionary. He named the complex for a sainted 13th-century Spanish king, Ferdinand III.

Chain-link fencing, topped by razor wire, surrounds the convento building that faces San Fernando Mission Boulevard. Above signs of ``hard hat area'' hangs a white banner with red letters reminding passers-by: ``The Mission Is Open During Construction.''

Work began a month ago. Feeney said the peafowl that roam the seven-acre mission grounds still haven't grown accustomed to the construction workers and the noise of power tools. This week, brightly plumed peacocks hopped on the scaffolding erected alongside the convento, squawking loudly over the din of a circular power saw that workers use to cut adobe bricks in half.

``With luck,'' Feeney said, the retrofitting work will be done by Christmas.