WBEZ | History http://www.wbez.org/tags/history Latest from WBEZ Chicago Public Radio en The tale of Chicago's tattoo holdout http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/tale-chicagos-tattoo-holdout-110185 <p><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/dAa8i2XoKQc" width="560"></iframe></p><p><iframe frameborder="0" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/149565713&amp;color=ff5500&amp;auto_play=false&amp;hide_related=false&amp;show_artwork=false" width="100%"></iframe></p><p><em>Editor&rsquo;s note: The podcast episode available above includes two stories. The first story explains <a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/jackpot-chicagos-hold-pinball-industry-and-artistry-110175">Chicago&rsquo;s fascinating role in pinball industry and imagery.</a> The story about Chicago&rsquo;s history of tattooing begins at 8 minutes, 45 seconds. Enjoy!</em></p><p>It&rsquo;s hard to avoid Chicago&rsquo;s tattoo culture. Getting ink &mdash; from simple line-drawings to Asian dragons &mdash; has practically become a rite of passage, and tattoo parlors have become staples of the area&rsquo;s street corners, not unlike barber shops and nail salons.</p><p>Which is why it&rsquo;s so hard to believe that for a single, nearly ten-year stretch, there was only one legal tattoo shop in Chicago. That&rsquo;s right. Just <em>one</em>.</p><p>Dan Zajac, from Highland, Ind., couldn&rsquo;t believe it either, and he asked to hear more about the lone shop that had stood its ground:</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;"><em>Strange as this may now seem, from the mid-1960&#39;s through the early 1970&#39;s Chicago had one &mdash; just one &mdash; legal tattoo parlor. How did this happen to be the case?</em></p><p>To get answers we tracked down people intimately familiar with Chicago&rsquo;s tattoo history. From them, we learned how a lone tattoo shop withstood age-restriction laws, angry sailors, and a mass exodus of tattoo talent ... only to emerge as a single (albeit important) shop in a large field of competitors.</p><p><span style="font-size: 22px;">Our sources</span></p><p>Our principal sources &mdash; Chicago-based tattoo artists Dale Grande and Nick Colella &mdash; are familiar with the operation alluded to in Dan Zajac&rsquo;s question: <a href="http://chicagotattoo.com/home.html" target="_blank">Chicago Tattoo and Piercing Co.</a>, which these days is located at 1017 W. Belmont Ave. Its former status as the only game in town is broadcast loudly and clearly by neon signs out front.</p><p>Dale Grande lived the history involved in our question, as he&rsquo;s owned or co-owned Chicago Tattoo since 1973.</p><p>Nick Colella worked at Grande&rsquo;s shop for about 20 years before opening his own, <a href="http://greatlakestattoo.com/" target="_blank">Great Lakes Tattoo</a>, in 2013. The walls at Colella&rsquo;s shop are festooned with Chicago tattoo memorabilia in hall-of-fame fashion, arranged in glass cases like vintage shrines. It&rsquo;s safe to say he&rsquo;s Chicago&rsquo;s unofficial tattoo historian, and much of it involves Chicago Tattoo.</p><p>Both Grande and Colella helped with <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dAa8i2XoKQc" target="_blank">our video</a>, but the interview segments below provide even more insight.</p><p><span style="font-size:22px;">Tats and two histories</span></p><blockquote><p><strong>Nick Colella:</strong> There are two histories to Chicago tattooing. The first part is from the late 1800s until tattooing went underground in Chicago in the 1950s and 60s.</p></blockquote><p><strong>How the Chicago tattoo scene looked in the 1930s.</strong></p><blockquote><p><strong>Nick Colella:</strong> South State Street had been this honky tonk area. It was all burlesque strip joints and diners and arcades. And in the arcades were the tattoo shops.</p><p>All this was supposedly run by the mob, so every square inch was used for stuff. &nbsp;If there was a hallway underneath the stairwell, you could put a tattooer there.</p></blockquote><div class="image-insert-image " style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/Tats%20shop%20in%20Chicago%20%28R.%20Johnastone%29.jpg" title="State Street's tattoo shops mainly catered to sailors in the Great Lakes area. (Archival photo courtesy Nick Colella). " /></div><p><strong>The <a href="http://www.cnic.navy.mil/regions/cnrmw/installations/ns_great_lakes.html">Naval Station Great Lakes</a> lies 40 miles north of Chicago. Young sailors would make their way downtown.</strong></p><blockquote><p><strong>Dale Grande:</strong> &nbsp;So, they would come to the city to party, get tattooed and go back to the base. And they are all 18 to 20-something years old. And it was a sailor&rsquo;s tradition to get tattooed.</p><p><strong>Nick Colella:</strong> The sailors would get tattooed on their arms. On State Street you&#39;d actually pick [a tattoo] off the wall then go tell the arcade manager what you wanted to pay for it &mdash; a couple bucks &mdash; then get a ticket and get [your tattoo] done. There were so many sailors and people down there, so there were hundreds of tattooers in and out over the years.</p></blockquote><p><strong>In 1963 the state of Illinois raised the legal age to get a tattoo from 18 to 21.</strong></p><blockquote><p><strong>Dale Grande:</strong>&nbsp;New York City had a spout of hepatitis that they claim came from some tattoo shops. Chicago [sic] saw this and decided to raise the legal age law [to get a tattoo] from 18 years old to 21 years old.</p><strong>Nick Colella:&nbsp;</strong>I always heard it was about cleaning up State Street. The state realized, you know, this is downtown. There&rsquo;s money here to be made in real estate. They didn&rsquo;t want strip clubs or tattoo shops there.</blockquote><p><strong>The legal changes forced customers to seek tattoos elsewhere.</strong></p><blockquote><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://llnw.wbez.org/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/CLIFF SHOP FOR WEB 2.jpg" style="float: right;" title="Cliff Raven's tattoo shop before it incorporated in 1973. It was the only shop in Chicago. (Archival photo courtesy Nick Colella)" /><strong>Nick Colella:&nbsp;</strong>That 18 to 21 change didn&#39;t allow those tattooers to tattoo any sailors anymore, so that business was gone. They all left Chicago and went west, east or south. Chicago became a ghost town for tattooing because you couldn&#39;t make any money off these sailors anymore.</blockquote><blockquote><strong>Dale Grande:&nbsp;</strong>Eventually, Cliff &mdash; Cliff Raven &mdash; who had Cliff Raven Studio, was the only one in the city.</blockquote><blockquote><strong>Nick Colella:&nbsp;</strong>Cliff Raven was a guy who got into tattooing in the late 50s and early 60s by a guy named Phil Sparrow, who had a major standalone shop on State Street. When tattooing went underground in Chicago, Phil briefly had a shop on Larrabee Street then went to Milwaukee [Wisconsin].</blockquote><blockquote><strong>Dale Grande:&nbsp;</strong>When everybody left, Cliff stayed because he was a Chicago man. He was a great person, talked to everyone, knew a little bit about everything. He had a B.A. from Indiana University. He was one of the great artists &mdash; I mean real artists &mdash; who got into the art of tattooing at that time.</blockquote><blockquote><strong>Nick Colella:&nbsp;</strong>I think Cliff stayed because he learned here and knew people involved in not just the tattoo scene. He was involved in leather and stuff. It was his home and he knew what he wanted.</blockquote><blockquote><strong>Dale Grande:&nbsp;</strong>He was the first openly gay tattooer, too. He was pretty big in the gay community at that time. He was part owner for a couple of bath houses &hellip;</blockquote><blockquote><strong>Nick Colella:&nbsp;</strong>That&rsquo;s why he set up shop where he did [W. Belmont Ave]. Boystown, you know?</blockquote><div class="image-insert-image " style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://llnw.wbez.org/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/CLIFF WEB.jpg" style="height: 357px; width: 350px;" title="(Archival photo courtesy Nick Colella)" /></div><p><strong>Cliff Raven&rsquo;s art changed Dale Grande&rsquo;s life.</strong></p><blockquote><strong>Dale Grande:&nbsp;</strong>The first time you stepped into the shop you could see the art on the walls was so much better [than other tattoo art at the time]. I think I was about 20 years old at the time and I said, &ldquo;I gotta get a tattoo here.&rdquo; So I did.<p>While I was getting the two pieces from Cliff I asked him: &ldquo;How do you get into this business? Mind if I hang around &hellip; be a gopher or something?&rdquo;</p><p>He goes, &ldquo;Sure, why not.&rdquo; I don&rsquo;t think he thought I was serious, but I started coming in after work nearly every day.</p></blockquote><p><strong>That was Spring of 1973. By fall of the same year, Cliff and his business partner at the time, Buddy McFall, had offered Dale Grande partial ownership. The shop&rsquo;s name changed from Cliff Raven Studio to Chicago Tattoo Co., Inc.</strong></p><blockquote><p><strong>Dale Grande:</strong>&nbsp;I vividly remember the day were talking about it. I said, &ldquo;What about Chicago Tattoo? That says it all.&rdquo; And that&rsquo;s the name.</p><p>At that time the tattoo industry was very closed-mouth, but we would come to work and there&rsquo;d be a line already waiting for us to open the door. Something you&rsquo;d expect being the only shop in the city. &nbsp;</p><p>It was crazy. We&rsquo;d get all these artists stopping in from all over the country just to see Cliff and talk to him. I would just sit there in awe and watch and listen and meet all these artists. It was really uncanny. It was great.</p></blockquote><p style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/AP790331060.jpg" style="width: 325px; height: 350px;" title="Dale Grande, left, working at Chicago Tattoo. (Archival photo courtesy Nick Colella)" /></p><p><strong>By the late 1970s, Chicago Tattoo had attracted many new artists. Some opened their own tattoo shops in Chicago.</strong></p><blockquote><p><strong>Dale Grande:</strong>&nbsp;When these shops started opening, first thing I would do was hop in the car and drive down there to see what was going on. And hopefully I didn&rsquo;t see anything; it was just a rumor. It was always a bad feeling when someone opened up then.</p><p>There was lots of good, stiff competition. You just gotta stay better. And we did; we stayed better &hellip; I wish those days were back again because now you&rsquo;ve got something like 200 shops in and around the city.</p></blockquote><p><strong>Cliff Raven, who operated during the industry&rsquo;s lowpoint in Chicago, left an indelible mark on the local industry.</strong></p><blockquote><p><strong>Nick Colella:</strong>&nbsp;The tattooing landscape would not be anything without Cliff and Dale and Chicago Tattoo. People who are tattooing now don&rsquo;t know where it all started from. They don&rsquo;t know that there was a core group of people who are monumental in this city&rsquo;s tattooing history.</p><p>A lot of tattooers now take it for granted that these guys were the only tattooers in town. They think &ldquo;Oh! They got all the business, that&rsquo;s great!&rdquo; &hellip; but they also got all the flak in town; all the b.s. They were those few guys going to work every day tattooing when it wasn&rsquo;t cool, when it wasn&rsquo;t on TV. They just did it because they had a drive to tattoo.</p><p>And that&rsquo;s why I keep this history alive - because no one else does. You go to Chicago History Museum and look up early photos of State Street and they only have three images, but I have the originals of them.</p><p>Chicago wants to put that area of history under the rug so bad. The city&rsquo;s always changing, but you have this history here that&rsquo;s important &hellip; to some people.</p></blockquote><p><strong>Cliff Raven left Chicago to open a new tattoo shop in California in 1977. Raven invited Dale Grande to join him.</strong></p><blockquote><p><strong>Dale Grande:&nbsp;</strong>It didn&#39;t feel right. I&rsquo;ve been here for all of my adult life. And I&rsquo;m still here. And we&rsquo;re still operating. We&rsquo;re still Chicago Tattoo. I just try to let others know that we&rsquo;re still around.</p></blockquote><p style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/Capture.JPG" style="height: 285px; width: 500px;" title="Chicago Tattoo and Piercing Co. is located at 1017 W. Belmont Ave. (Logan Jaffe/WBEZ)" /></p><p><span style="font-size: 22px;">Our question comes from: Dan Zajac</span></p><p>Dan Zajac is a lawyer who lives in Highland, Ind. He had known about Cliff Raven and Chicago Tattoo for a while, he says, but couldn&rsquo;t put his finger on why the shop was ever the only one in Chicago. He had even done his own research on the topic.</p><p>&ldquo;At least half the books in any public library on the subject of tattoos have Cliff Raven in the index,&rdquo; Dan wrote in an email. &ldquo;Many of the tattoo artists in various parts of the country (except the younger ones) seem to claim that they had studied under Cliff.&rdquo;</p><p>While we invited Dan to come along with us to investigate his question, he was only reachable by email. But he did let us know there&rsquo;s a reason why he&rsquo;s on the hunt for answers. A personal reason: Chicago&rsquo;s legendary tattoo artist was his uncle, Cliff Raven.</p><p><em>Logan Jaffe is Curious City&rsquo;s multimedia producer. Follow her <a href="https://twitter.com/loganjaffe" target="_blank">@loganjaffe</a>.</em></p></p> Wed, 14 May 2014 19:01:00 -0500 http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/tale-chicagos-tattoo-holdout-110185 Jackpot! Chicago's hold on pinball industry and artistry http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/jackpot-chicagos-hold-pinball-industry-and-artistry-110175 <p><p>Ever since Kevin Schramer started playing pinball in the 1970&#39;s, he noticed that many machines listed their manufacturing addresses in the Chicago region. The addresses have kept him wondering for decades, so when he learned about Curious City, he just had to ask:</p><p style="text-align: center;"><em>Why was the Chicago area home to all the major pinball manufacturers during the heyday of pinball?</em></p><p>After digging into relevant history books, interviewing industry experts, and emptying plenty of change into the area&rsquo;s <a href="#map">remaining pinball machines</a>, we can firmly say that Kevin&rsquo;s on to something: From the modern pinball industry&rsquo;s Depression-era beginnings, to its modest market presence today, Chicago has been pinball&rsquo;s center of gravity. (The <a href="http://www.ipdb.org/search.pl">Internet Pinball Database</a> lists 554 top-rated pinball machines and at least 98 percent of them were made in the region.) But the answer as to <em>why </em>involves an interplay of history, geography and art.</p><p><strong>Insert coin: Gottlieb and Williams</strong></p><p>To say Chicago was the hub of the pinball industry isn&rsquo;t to say that the game was invented in the Windy City. Historians trace early pinball machines to a centuries-old French billiard game called <em>bagatelle</em>, while the modern coin-operated pinball industry got its start in the early 1930s. During the Great Depression, many people were &ldquo;out of work, looking for inexpensive entertainment for a penny,&rdquo; explains pinball historian Roger Sharpe. Enterprising tinkerers and businessmen began to fill that need with simple countertop games.</p><p>In these early days, many of the industry&rsquo;s key players were travelling businessmen such as David Gottlieb, whose machine <em>Baffle Ball</em> was one of pinball&rsquo;s first big hits. <em>Baffle Ball</em> was a simple game. There were no flippers, lights, or bells; you just pulled the plunger back and hoped that the ball bounced into the right hole. Gottlieb moved throughout the Midwest to sell his machines, but his operation was based in Chicago.</p><p>Many of pinball&#39;s now-familiar qualities, such as replays and tilt mechanisms, were considered whiz-bang when they were first developed by engineer Harry Williams in the 1930&rsquo;s. Williams got his start in California, pranking his business partners by adding electricity to his machines and connecting the games to telephones; in some cases, the right shot would make the phone ring. Once the ringing machines proved to draw more money than their silent counterparts, machines with sound-making elements became the norm. While Williams tried working from California for a while, he eventually decided that he would need Chicago&#39;s competitive edge if he wanted to make a name for himself in the pinball industry.</p><p>&quot;It took too long for his games to get to the East Coast and by the time it got to the East Coast other people had already knocked it off,&quot; says Sharpe.</p><p><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://llnw.wbez.org/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/baffle ball resized and tweaked.jpeg" style="height: 225px; width: 300px; float: right;" title="Baffle Ball and Ballywho were two of pinball’s earliest successes. The machines were flipper-less, but brought in a stream of pennies anyway. (Flickr/Rob Dicaterino)" />Chicago had a lot to offer the budding industry. Raw materials were widely available, including lumber and wiring, as well as steel from nearby Gary, Ind. The city&#39;s large immigrant population became the basis of the factories&#39; work force. Once the machines were finished, the city&#39;s railroads made them easy to distribute across the country, and Lake Michigan&#39;s ports allowed the machines to be sent around the world as pinball found a market overseas. David Gottlieb and Harry Williams founded some of the industry&rsquo;s most successful companies in Chicago, and named the firms after themselves.</p><p><strong>Multiball! Artistry in the industry&rsquo;s heyday</strong></p><p>Through the decades, the pinball industry had its highs and lows. From the 1940s through most of the 1970s pinball was officially banned as illegal gambling in many of the nation&rsquo;s big cities, including New York City and Chicago. (Roger Sharpe, our historical guide, played <a href="http://gizmodo.com/how-one-perfect-shot-saved-pinball-from-being-illegal-1154267979">an instrumental role in overturning the bans</a> with a skill shot that became the stuff of pinball legend.) Although the bans were lightly enforced, they kept the industry from achieving its full potential. Then, in the mid-1970s, the bans were lifted, and The Who&rsquo;s pinball rock opera <em>Tommy </em>was made into a major motion picture. At this point, pinball found a place in the mainstream culture, and the industry entered into a full-blown heyday.</p><p>As the industry thrived, the graphic artists who designed the backglasses and the playfields developed a detail-rich pinball aesthetic. While Chicago has many important cultural contributions, it has a unique monopoly on pinball art. The art blended the bawdy imagery of <em>Playboy </em>magazine (based in Chicago at the time) with the garish colors of <a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/laugh-your-troubles-away-105619">Riverview amusement park</a>; before it was closed in 1967, Riverview had shared the same neighborhood as many pinball manufacturers.</p><p>Even Chicago&rsquo;s weather made it on to some machines. Greg Freres, celebrated pinball artist, worked on the <em>Harlem Globetrotters</em> machine during the notorious winter of 1979 &mdash; <a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/just-how-bad-chicago-winter-109637#misery">one of the city&rsquo;s worst</a>. Freres included a splotch of white paint next to Lake Michigan in honor of Chicago&rsquo;s snow on the Globetrotters&rsquo; globe.<a name="presentation"></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="true" frameborder="0" height="367" mozallowfullscreen="true" scrolling="no" src="https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/15JGIGwSQW2F_J4759VDr3g6QyXrNWBNbVrTyoW21rxI/embed?start=false&amp;loop=false&amp;delayms=3000" webkitallowfullscreen="true" width="620"></iframe></p><p>While the industry lost some ground to video game machines through the 80s, it continued to be successful. The most popular pinball machine of all time, for example, was <em>The Addam&rsquo;s Family</em>; it wasn&rsquo;t released until 1992.</p><p>By the close of the decade, however, pinball was in a verifiable slump. WMS, the corporate successor to the company founded by desinger Harry Williams, lost $4 million on its pinball division in 1998 alone. The company gave its pinball team one last shot to reinvigorate pinball. The team developed <em>Pinball 2000</em>, a hybrid of video games and pinball featuring holographic aliens. Despite the machine&rsquo;s relative success and a promo video complete with kooky narration from Chicago radio legend Ken Nordine, the corporate bosses at WMS shut down their pinball division to focus on growing profits in the slot machine industry. By the dawn of the 21st century, only one manufacturer of pinball machines remained in Chicago, and the world.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/UUSzSHNEv2g?rel=0" width="480"></iframe></p><p><strong>Extra game? Pinball Perseveres</strong></p><p>But pinball didn&rsquo;t end there. That last company, Stern Pinball, continues to develop and manufacture pinball machines in west suburban Melrose Park. (A New Jersey-based company just released a <em>Wizard of Oz</em> pinball machine, but Stern is the only company that regularly releases new machines and distributes them widely.) Company CEO Gary Stern has been in the pinball industry since he was a small child accompanying his father, a business partner of Harry Williams, on factory visits. While the access to materials, labor, and distribution that made Chicago an ideal location for pinball&rsquo;s beginnings remain, Stern says another element is keeping the surviving industry here.</p><p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;re here, because we&rsquo;re here,&rdquo; Stern puts it plainly. That is, a community of pinball designers, engineers, and specialists live in the Chicago area, and many of them remain dedicated to the pinball craft.</p><p><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://llnw.wbez.org/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/Gary Stern resized.jpeg" style="height: 188px; width: 250px; float: left;" title="Stern Pinball CEO Gary Stern poses with question-asker Kevin Schramer and some of his company’s machines. Stern has worked in the pinball industry for more than 50 years. (WBEZ/Mickey Capper)" />Jim Shird is one of those specialists working at Stern. He has designed the wiring in pinball machines since the 1990s and has been playing pinball since he was a kid, when he would win free pizzas every week from a local pizza place&rsquo;s pinball competition.</p><p>Pinball&rsquo;s popularity has diminished to the point where it&rsquo;s most visible in the shadowy corners of dive bars. But still, Shird remains optimistic. These days, when he finishes work at Stern, he heads straight to <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Logan+Hardware+Arcade+Bar/@41.92504,-87.688184,17z/data=!4m2!3m1!1s0x0:0x70e42de27f7ec47f">Logan Arcade</a>, one of Chicago&rsquo;s many new arcade bars, to maintain (and play) the bar&rsquo;s pinball collection.</p><p>He is, after all, a pinball person and he gets to spend his life with pinball machines.</p><p>&ldquo;Everyday is different, everyday is interesting, everyday is an adventure, and everyday is fun,&rdquo; Shird says with a smile. &ldquo;I get to play pinball everyday.&rdquo;<a name="map"></a></p><p><iframe height="480" src="https://mapsengine.google.com/map/u/1/embed?mid=zo79HXq-4bn0.kCzXX8JiSVjA" width="640"></iframe></p><p><em>(Want to play pinball? This map includes all Chicago area venues with 3 or more pinball machines. More information is available at <a href="http://pinballmap.com/chicago">PinballMap.com</a>.)</em></p><p><strong>Our question comes from: Kevin Schramer</strong><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://llnw.wbez.org/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/Kevin resize.jpeg" style="width: 225px; height: 300px; float: right;" title="Kevin Schramer plays his pinball machines with his family. Kevin’s question began this investigation. (WBEZ/Mickey Capper)" /></p><p>This story about Chicago pinball begins with our &ldquo;Player 1,&rdquo; Kevin Schramer. Kevin says he&rsquo;s loved the colors and sounds of pinball since he was a kid in the 1970s. He first saw pinball at Funway, a family entertainment center &nbsp;in west suburban Batavia.</p><p>&ldquo;If you had a pocket full of quarters you were all set,&rdquo; Kevin remembers.</p><p>Today, Kevin no longer needs quarters; he has a row of four vintage pinball machines in the dining room of his home in Winfield, Ill. His family plays the machines too, and he is currently in the midst of an extended battle with his sons over his machines&#39; high scores.</p><p><em>Mickey Capper is a freelance audio producer. Follow him <a href="https://twitter.com/FMcapper">@FMcapper</a></em></p></p> Tue, 13 May 2014 16:53:00 -0500 http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/jackpot-chicagos-hold-pinball-industry-and-artistry-110175 Illinois' red light on Sunday car sales http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/illinois-red-light-sunday-car-sales-110136 <p><p><iframe frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/148403096&amp;color=ff5500&amp;auto_play=false&amp;hide_related=false&amp;show_artwork=true" width="100%"></iframe></p><p>Judging by how many transportation-related <a href="http://curiouscity.wbez.org/questions/archive" target="_blank">questions Curious City receives</a>, we denizens of the Chicago region are obsessed with getting around and will ask about any <a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/question-answered-why-ban-pickups-lake-shore-drive-where-can-they-park-104631" target="_blank">stumbling blocks</a> &mdash; legal or otherwise &mdash; that threaten to get in our way.</p><p><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/illinois-red-light-sunday-car-sales-110136#julischatz">Juli Schatz</a> of South Elgin is just one fan who&rsquo;s stepped forward with a puzzler related to mobility. Here&rsquo;s the gist of what she wants to know: &nbsp;</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;"><em>When did the state of Illinois begin its ban on Sunday car sales, and why?</em></p><p>The short answer? Turns out, auto dealers in Illinois have kept their doors closed on Sundays for more than three decades &mdash; from a law passed in 1982, to be specific. The state legislature sided with a group of dealers who argued that having a mandatory day off allowed employees to be with their families and practice their faith, without worrying that their competitors were open and could steal a sale.</p><p>Here&rsquo;s an excerpt of the <a href="http://www.ilga.gov/legislation/ilcs/fulltext.asp?DocName=062500050K5-106" target="_blank">law </a>Illinois still follows today:</p><blockquote><p><em><span style="font-size:12px;">(625 ILCS 5/5-106) (from Ch. 95 1/2, par. 5-106)</span></em></p><p><em><span style="font-size:12px;">Sec. 5-106. No person may keep open, operate, or assist in keeping open or operating any established or additional place of business for the purpose of buying, selling, bartering, exchanging, or leasing for a period of 1 year or more, or offering for sale, barter, exchange, or lease for a period of 1 year or more, any motor vehicle, whether new or used, on the first day of the week, commonly called Sunday; ...</span></em></p></blockquote><p>But this story about Sunday car sales goes back even further than the 1980s; Illinois has had this debate since the 1950s, with similar arguments for and against being deployed each time &mdash; including the issue&rsquo;s resurrection today.</p><p><span style="font-size:22px;">Chapter 1: Prairie State car law, in the shade of blue</span></p><p>The state&rsquo;s Sunday auto sales ban is one of many state-level blue laws, which &mdash; as a category &mdash; prohibit certain secular activities on Sundays. It&#39;s a bent the Prairie State apparently shares with several neighbors: Iowa, Indiana, and Missouri also prohibit selling motor vehicles on Sundays. Wisconsin prohibits a dealer from selling on Sundays, unless the operator holds that the Sabbath occurs between sunset Friday and sunset Saturday.</p><p>Illinois&#39; own ban first made its way through the legislature in 1951. Dealers wanted to allow a day off, but any single dealership couldn&rsquo;t close its doors while competitors stayed open. Legislators agreed to a mandatory day off and passed a bill to make it happen, but the story got complicated as soon as the bill hit Governor Adlai Stevenson&rsquo;s desk.</p><p>Stevenson&rsquo;s Attorney General, Ivan A. Elliott, encouraged the governor to veto the bill, saying it likely violated the Illinois Constitution &ldquo;as an interference with the right of an individual to pursue any trade or occupation which is not injurious to the public or a menace to the safety or welfare of society.&rdquo;</p><p>Stevenson heeded the AG&rsquo;s word, and vetoed Senate Bill 504.</p><p>&ldquo;If such a restriction on Sunday trade is sound for automobiles, why should it not be extended to newspapers, groceries, ice cream cones and other harmless commercial transactions?&rdquo; Stevenson wrote in a veto message. &ldquo;Carried to its logical extreme, any business group with sufficient influence in the legislature can dictate the hours of business of its competitors. And if hours, why not prices?&rdquo;</p><p><span style="font-size:22px;">A short Chapter 2, and complicated Chapter 3</span></p><p>A nearly identical bill followed a similar path in 1957. House Bill 946 survived both houses, only to be defeated at the hand of Governor William Stratton days after passage.</p><p>The legislature made another attempt in 1961, only this time Governor Otto Kerner signed Senate Bill 597, making it a crime for any person to sell, barter or exchange any new or used motor vehicle on the day &ldquo;commonly called Sunday.&rdquo;</p><p>But some car dealers weren&rsquo;t jazzed about their new schedules. Employees at Courtesy Motor Sales in Chicago had been able to choose any day of the week they wished for their day off, but many of them chose to work on Sundays because they made almost twice as much as they did any other day of the week. Twenty percent of Courtesy&rsquo;s annual sales in 1960 were made on Sundays.</p><p>So Courtesy employees filed an injunction in Cook County Circuit Court that ended up before the Illinois Supreme Court. The salesmen and their lawyers argued the law was unconstitutional, as it singled out one specific group of sellers.</p><p>Attorney Joe Roddy was a senior in law school at the time, working as a law clerk for the State&rsquo;s Attorney&rsquo;s office. As the State&rsquo;s Attorney was responsible for defending the statute, Roddy helped write the briefs. He also penned an article for the Chicago-Kent Law review about the case.</p><p>&ldquo;It was a huge deal,&rdquo; Roddy recalls. &ldquo;I remember a lot of publicity. Because you know, car dealerships, everybody buys a car &mdash; even in the 60s &mdash; and the car dealers wanted to be open on Sundays. So it attracted a lot of publicity because they didn&rsquo;t single out any other industry at that time.&rdquo;<a name="lawshistory"></a></p><p>The Illinois Supreme Court ruled in 1962 that the law was unconstitutional, and the debate died down for a bit.<a name="timeline"></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:14px;"><strong><span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;">TIMELINE: The law&#39;s history</span></strong></span></p><p><iframe frameborder="0" height="650" src="http://cdn.knightlab.com/libs/timeline/latest/embed/index.html?source=0Ai7E2pZ6aCZtdFd5Wllad2gzaWZpQnlGTGwxQzZNY0E&amp;font=Bevan-PotanoSans&amp;maptype=toner&amp;lang=en&amp;height=650" width="100%"></iframe></p><p><span style="font-size:22px;">Blue (law) since 1982</span></p><p>In the 1980s, car dealers across the state wrote state lawmakers, arguing that a mandatory day off would protect the livelihood of sellers and would provide needed time for family or faith. A new bill banning sales on Sundays made its way through the legislature, with major support coming from trade organizations that represent car dealerships.</p><p>But the measure also had opponents.</p><p>&ldquo;I think it comes with some amazement that a bill like this would come before us. We have heard time and time again from the business community that they would like less regulation by the state, and less mandates,&rdquo; Senator Don Totten argued on the Senate floor at the time. &ldquo;I think this runs contrary to our system of free enterprise.&rdquo;</p><p>The bill ended up making it way through both houses, leaving Governor Jim Thompson with a tough decision.</p><p>&ldquo;Look, I&rsquo;m not a big fan of blue laws,&rdquo; Thompson now says. &ldquo;I think commerce should be open and free.&rdquo;</p><p>And because of that, Thompson says, he did go back and forth on this one.</p><p>&ldquo;It was not a simple decision,&rdquo; he says. &ldquo;It was more a complex decision, but I guess what impressed me was the unanimity of the opinion [of] the dealer and the employee group. And the notion that if people &mdash; in order to protect their livelihood &mdash; had to work 7 days a week, that was a pretty tough proposition, especially people with families.&rdquo;</p><p>Thompson ended up signing the bill on July 13, 1982, but the law wasn&rsquo;t implemented until April 1984, when the state&rsquo;s Supreme Court ruled the ban was constitutional. The state has enforced a six-day sales week for dealers around Illinois ever since.</p><p><span style="font-size: 22px;">Ice cream cones and planned purchases</span></p><p>Fast forward to early 2014. It turns out that our question from Juli Schatz question is timely. Much to the dismay of many Illinois car dealers, Republican State Senator Jim Oberweis introduced a bill at the end of 2013 that would allow all dealers to open their doors on Sundays, should they want to.</p><p>Oberweis made the argument that his plan wouldn&rsquo;t <em>force</em> dealerships to do anything. Having government decide when businesses can and can&rsquo;t be open, he says, amounts to too much regulation.</p><p>&ldquo;I believe it is wrong for government to tell a business when they can be open and when they cannot be open. That&rsquo;s what they do in Russia, not in the United States,&rdquo; Oberweis says. &ldquo;And it becomes even worse when we learn that this is an industry supported effort. They decided they don&rsquo;t want to be open themselves, and then they attempt to use government to prohibit competition on those days. That is just fundamentally wrong in my opinion.&rdquo;</p><p>Oberweis says the bill likely won&rsquo;t go anywhere in 2014, as too few Senate Democrats are on board with repealing the ban.</p><p>Dave Sloan, President of the Chicago Automobile Trade Association, says the bill&rsquo;s also likely to fail because both consumers and dealers are happy with the current law. The CATA has been a long-time supporter of the Sunday closing law, and Sloan says he was surprised to see Oberweis&rsquo; bill come up in the first place. In his 20 years at the CATA, including their work running the Chicago Auto Show, he says he&rsquo;s never heard a single complaint from a consumer over not being able to shop on Sundays.</p><p>&ldquo;If the purchase of a car was an impulse buy, like if you were buying an ice cream cone from one of Mr. Oberweis&rsquo; ice cream stores, that might make a difference. But it&rsquo;s a planned purchase,&rdquo; Sloan says. &ldquo;So if you have the opportunity to keep costs lower, and the consumer isn&rsquo;t inconvenienced by that, well, then everyone wins.&rdquo;</p><p>Sloan says a six-day work week helps dealers attract high-caliber employees; he argues it&rsquo;s hard to find full-time salesmen who will commit to working on commission when the dealership is open seven days a week.</p><p>As time goes on, and technology advances, so too do auto sales, according to Pete Sander, president of the Illinois Automobile Dealers Association. He says compared to decades past, many more vehicles are financed during the purchase process. Since banks aren&rsquo;t open on Sundays either, he says, closing a sale becomes difficult, if not impossible. &nbsp;</p><p>And Sander says now that both dealers and manufacturers have websites available 24/7, the average customer only visits a dealership lot an average of one and a half times before purchasing a vehicle. Five years ago, the average customer would visit a sales lot five times.</p><p>&ldquo;By the time they get to the dealer on Saturday, they pretty much know what they want, and whether the dealer has what they want. It&rsquo;s just a matter of negotiating the price of the trade-in, and negotiating the price of the car,&rdquo; Sander says. &ldquo;So it&rsquo;s not like the old going from dealer to dealer to find the right car in the color and model you want, and kicking the tires as we used to do in the old days.<a name="julischatz"></a></p><p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a much different commercial transaction now.&rdquo;</p><p><span style="font-size:22px;">Our question comes from: Juli Schatz</span></p><p><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/JuliBW.jpg" style="float: left; height: 205px; width: 150px;" title="Juli Schatz, who asked why Illinois banned Sunday car sales. (Photo courtesy Juli Schatz)" />Our look at Illinois&rsquo; ban on Sunday car sales comes courtesy of South Elgin resident Juli Schatz, who says she can&rsquo;t quite put her finger on when, exactly, this seed of curiosity about Illinois&rsquo; ban on Sunday cars was first planted.</p><p>It likely happened, she says, decades ago when her dad helped her shop for a car. Schatz&rsquo;s dad worked five days a week, so he was only free to kick tires or test-drive on weekends. She thought it was strange that Sunday sales were off the table.</p><p>&ldquo;I asked [my dad] and he had no idea why, and that was long before the Internet or anything,&rdquo; Schatz recalled. &ldquo;We actually asked a couple of car dealers while we were shopping for my new used car, and they had no idea.&rdquo;</p><p>Schatz says she&rsquo;s been curious about it ever since. Years later, she worked in ad sales for several newspapers, including the <em>Naperville Sun</em>, and she had car dealerships as some of her customers.</p><p>&ldquo;Same thing,&rdquo; she says. &ldquo;Nobody really knew. And some of these dealers had been in business for quite a while and they said, &lsquo;You know, it&rsquo;s just always been that way.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p><p><em>Lauren Chooljian is a WBEZ Reporter. Follow her <a href="https://twitter.com/laurenchooljian">@laurenchooljian</a>.</em></p><div>&nbsp;</div><div>&nbsp;</div></p> Mon, 05 May 2014 17:05:00 -0500 http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/illinois-red-light-sunday-car-sales-110136 After Haymarket: Anarchism on trial and a city in search of its soul http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/after-haymarket-anarchism-trial-and-city-search-its-soul-110098 <p><div class="image-insert-image "><a name="top"></a><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/TIOOR_0.jpg" style="height: 223px; width: 620px;" title="" /></div><p><iframe frameborder="0" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/147277419&amp;color=ff5500&amp;auto_play=false&amp;hide_related=false&amp;show_artwork=true" width="100%"></iframe></p><p>No one knows who threw the bomb near Haymarket Square on the night of May 4, 1886. It&rsquo;s one of Chicago&rsquo;s most vexing unsolved mysteries. But there&rsquo;s little question that this violent act had huge repercussions &mdash; not only in Chicago but around the world.</p><p>Curious City received a question about this legendary and controversial event from a Naperville resident named Sabina:</p><p style="text-align: center;"><em>&ldquo;How did the Haymarket Square Massacre affect Chicago&rsquo;s culture at the time?&rdquo;</em></p><p>(Sabina didn&rsquo;t leave her last name or reply to our follow-up emails, but that didn&rsquo;t dissuade us from answering this fascinating and important question.)</p><p>We took a wide-angle view of what &ldquo;culture&rdquo; means &mdash; to quote one dictionary definition, it&rsquo;s the &ldquo;ideas, customs, skills, arts, etc. of a particular people or group in a particular period.&rdquo; Talking with five historians who have written about Haymarket, it becomes clear that this 1886 incident changed Chicagoans&rsquo; ideas about many things, especially labor, politics and justice. And in countless ways, it changed how the city&rsquo;s people looked at their fellow Chicagoans &mdash; whether it was a factory owner and a laborer facing off, or a person born in America suspiciously eyeing an immigrant from Europe. &nbsp;</p><p>Haymarket left a lasting stigma on radical movements. Ever since, the public has imagined&nbsp;<a href="#slideshow">anarchists as bomb-throwing fiends</a>. Tensions were already running high between wealthy business owners and poor workers in Chicago, but Haymarket made them even worse. Historians say it set back the labor movement for decades. But it also spurred some Chicagoans to seek ways of defusing that tension and making the city a more civic place.</p><p><span style="font-size:22px;"><strong>The explosion at Haymarket</strong></span></p><p>First, here&rsquo;s a quick summary of the Haymarket story. (Although our question-asker called it a &ldquo;massacre,&rdquo; it&rsquo;s probably best to avoid using that controversial term.)</p><p>On May 1, 1886, hundreds of thousands of people across the country &mdash; and 30,000 in Chicago &mdash; went on strike, demanding an eight-hour workday. Two days later, strikers scuffled with replacement workers at the <a href="http://www.encyclopedia.chicagohistory.org/pages/2204.html" target="_blank">McCormick Reaper Works</a> on the Southwest Side. Police fired into the crowd, killing two strikers.</p><p>Outraged by the police violence, anarchists held a rally on the night of May 4 at Haymarket Square, near Randolph and Desplaines streets. Around 1,500 people gathered to hear speeches. Mayor Carter Harrison Sr. watched for a while, then decided to go home. It looked peaceful to him. By 10:30 p.m., as the crowd was dwindling, a line of nearly 200 police officers came marching down the street. The police ordered the crowd to disperse.</p><div class="image-insert-image " style="text-align: center;"><a href="#slideshow"><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/v37v.jpg" style="height: 337px; width: 450px;" title="" /></a></div><blockquote><div class="image-insert-image " style="text-align: center;"><strong>Anarchist Lookbook:&nbsp;<a href="#slideshow">Haymarket&#39;s pictorial impact on radical politics</a></strong></div></blockquote><p>Just then, a bomb came flying toward the cops and exploded. Gunfire erupted. Some witnesses said later that the police fired most of the bullets. Others said that people in the crowd were shooting, too. By the time it was all over, seven officers were dead or dying. Four people in the crowd died. Dozens of people on both sides were wounded.</p><p>In the coming days, police rounded up dozens of anarchists across the city. That summer, eight radicals were put on trial. Just a few of them had actually been at the rally in Haymarket Square. Prosecutors didn&rsquo;t know who threw the bomb, but they persuaded a jury that these men were guilty of a bombing conspiracy.</p><p>Seven of the men were sentenced to hang, and one (Oscar Neebe) received 15 years in prison. Two of the men facing the death penalty (Samuel Fielden and Michael Schwab) asked for clemency, and Republican Gov. Richard Oglesby reduced their punishment to life in prison. Another one of the men on death row, Louis Lingg, killed himself in his jail cell with a smuggled blasting cap.</p><p>That left four men who had refused to ask the governor for mercy: Albert Parsons, August Spies,&nbsp;George Engel and Adolph Fischer. On Nov. 11, 1887, they were hanged at the same time on the gallows at Cook County Jail.</p><p>Six years later, a new governor &mdash; Democrat John Peter Altgeld &mdash; pardoned the three Haymarket defendants who were serving time in prison (Fielden, Schwab and Neebe). Altgeld called the trial a miscarriage of justice.</p><p>To find out what effect these events had on Chicago&rsquo;s culture, <a href="#historians">we spoke with five experts</a>. The following is an edited transcript from separate phone interviews with these five authors.</p><p><span style="font-size:22px;"><strong>What sort of tensions was Chicago experiencing leading up to Haymarket?</strong></span></p><p><strong>Dominic A. Pacyga: </strong>We sometimes don&rsquo;t realize how violently divided we were in the 19th century. After the Civil War, people thought there was going to be another civil war, but this would be between the working poor and the rich. It didn&rsquo;t happen, but it certainly seemed like it was going to happen.</p><p><strong>James Green:</strong> It isn&rsquo;t surprising that (the bombing) happened, given the culture of violence and conflict that had been festering in Chicago ever since 1867. Gov. Oglesby signed a bill, making eight hours the legal workday, on May 1, 1867. What happens? Well, employers refuse to obey the law. There&rsquo;s rioting. That starts a cycle of violence. Employers don&rsquo;t want any sort of state intervention. The unemployed demand relief. Well, that causes a riot.</p><p>The radical Republicans &mdash; Oglesby and the folks who saw themselves in Lincoln&rsquo;s tradition &mdash; wanted to mediate this. The failure of that means the more savage forces inherent in the industrial process in Chicago take over. There&rsquo;s a lot of violence in the workplace. There&rsquo;s violence in the streets. People were engaged in violent acts on both sides. And the police are in the middle and often blamed for it.</p><p><strong>Timothy Messer-Kruse: </strong>The bombing occurred in the context of the first-ever national general strike. The idea was that any worker who had not achieved the eight-hour workday at their place of employment would go on strike on May 1. The simultaneous striking of millions of workers would simply create a cascading change across the country. And that would force both politicians and employers to recognize labor&rsquo;s power.</p><p>Everybody in industrial settings, they did toil very long days. In those days, 10 hours was standard. In many areas, it was sunup to sundown.</p><p><strong>Pacyga:</strong> In the packinghouses, they generally worked until all of the animals were slaughtered. Most male workers were completely removed from their family because of the 12-hour or 16-hour day. In the steel mills, there were two 12-hour shifts. You worked six days a week.</p><p><strong>Leon Fink: </strong>The anarchists were the left wing of the eight-hour movement. And within that left wing, there was a fringe of anarchists who counseled the use of bombs and dynamite. They justified it &mdash; at least publicly &mdash; as something they would only resort to in the face of police violence and as a defensive mechanism. But it seems clear there was a fringe of anarchists who were stockpiling bombs.</p><p><strong>Carl Smith:</strong> I think most of (the Haymarket defendants) are nonviolent people. They were convicted for what they said, not what they did. But yes, they certainly rhetorically preached violence as a solution. They preached a sense that violence is being practiced on them, day in and day out in the system &mdash; the billy clubs of the police. In their worldview, it was a life-and-death battle.</p><p><strong>Messer-Kruse: </strong>Among those <a href="http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/haymarket/haymarketdefendants.html">eight defendants</a>, there clearly were people who were willing to use violence for political ends &mdash; Louis Lingg, very clearly. The evidence is overwhelming that he made the bombs, including the bomb that was thrown at the Haymarket rally. He had dedicated his life to the violent overthrow not only of the government but essentially all bourgeois institutions. (The Haymarket defendants include) individuals who philosophically agree that the industrial society was so unjust, so murderous in its daily operation, that it had to be overthrown through some sort of mass, violent insurrection.</p><p><span style="font-size:22px;"><strong>How did Haymarket affect the labor and radical political movements?</strong></span></p><p><strong>Pacyga: </strong>Oh, it devastated the labor movement and the radical movement. Everybody who was involved with the May Day strike was tainted by the bombing. We still don&rsquo;t know really who threw the bomb. But the people in power used this as an excuse to really destroy the labor movement, to destroy the labor press and to move against all attempts to organize workers across the city.</p><p><strong>Smith: </strong>What the press and leading businessmen tried to do was tar all labor organizing with the brush of anarchism and to link anarchism with bombing. People started associating labor unions with bomb-throwers.</p><p><strong>Messer-Kruse: </strong>Haymarket definitely threw a big monkey wrench into the direction of American labor activism. When the bomb went off, Chicago went from being a city involved in what was becoming a complete general strike to a city pretty much on lockdown, with police investigations of this bombing.</p><p>The eight-hour movement was stopped in its tracks. Many workers in Chicago and elsewhere were actually winning concessions from their employers. Workers had been peacefully on strike, negotiating with their employers. When that bomb went off and police were killed, (labor activists) suddenly lost a lot of power and lost a lot of respect. Many employers who had conceded the eight-hour day in Chicago took it back. They simply tore up those contracts and took it back.</p><p>Had that (bombing) not happened, it could very well have gone otherwise. If the eight-hour day had been secured, then labor leaders would&rsquo;ve been emboldened to continue those kinds of tactics &mdash; and to view their role as being not only involved in their individual labor unions but involved in the general politics of the nation.</p><p>When the bomb went off, it went exactly the other direction. Labor leaders abandoned any idea of mobilizing this kind of public activism. America&rsquo;s trade union leaders become very conservative after Haymarket. They primarily become concerned with the interests of their own narrow sector of the workforce, and not with the nation as a whole.</p><p><strong>Green: </strong>It was certainly a crushing blow to that revolutionary left wing. The doctrine of force as a political philosophy disappears. What it did was drastically limit what the public debate about working conditions could be. It was no longer admissible to talk about it being so bad that something radical had to happen. That was out the window.</p><p>If the bomb hadn&rsquo;t exploded that evening, it might have (shown) that citizens could go into the streets and nonviolently protest for their rights, and that the employers would concede and people would move on in some nonviolent way to some kind of mediated workplace situation.</p><p>It would also have meant that there was still a radical voice within the house of labor, saying, &ldquo;We may have the eight-hour day, but there&rsquo;s something fundamentally rotten about this system. And ultimately, unless we replace it with another kind of economy, we&rsquo;re going to be in trouble.&rdquo; But that voice was gone. After Haymarket, the American Federation of Labor started to embrace a very limited version: just shorter hours and better living wages &mdash; that&rsquo;s all we want, you know?</p><p><strong>Pacyga:</strong> There was a tremendous amount of public reaction against labor unions and against<a href="http://www.encyclopedia.chicagohistory.org/pages/693.html" target="_blank"> the Knights of Labor</a>, which was the largest union at the time. There were about 700,000 members nationally. From that point on, the Knights of Labor really struggled and there was not that much future for it.</p><p><strong>Fink: </strong>Chicago was a leading Knights of Labor center. The Knights encompassed everyone from small businessmen and professionals down to the unskilled, including African-Americans and women. They were probably the most inclusive social movement of the late 19th century. And they were a powerful social force. They saw themselves as the preserver of the American Dream for the mass of people in the aftermath of the Civil War. They were against monopoly and against the seizure of the political system by a new moneyed elite. They believed in the ballot box. They believed in peaceful protest. They really were not in favor of strikes or confrontations, and engaged in them only as a last resort. So, their leadership was quick to disassociate itself from the anarchists, but Haymarket tarred their&nbsp;public reputation. They never ever recovered. The setback here reverberated around nation. &nbsp;</p><p><strong>Pacyga:</strong> It wasn&rsquo;t until the beginning of the 20th century that the (labor movement&rsquo;s) recovery over Haymarket began to take place. But even then, the labor unions were pretty much kept out of power until well into the 1930s.</p><p><strong>Green: </strong>Eventually, more and more workers win the eight-hour day. In 1938, it becomes a mandate of Congress.</p><p><span style="font-size:22px;"><strong>How did Haymarket affect politics in the Democratic and Republican parties?</strong></span></p><p><strong>Messer-Kruse: </strong>It probably didn&rsquo;t shift too much of the politics on the ground. Chicago remained a labor stronghold throughout this period and well into the 20th century, and the politics revolved around labor.</p><p><strong>Pacyga: </strong>People on both sides of the political spectrum, Democrats and Republicans, tried to get leniency for the Haymarket martyrs. But Marshall Field really pushed &mdash; he wanted them to be punished. People like (Haymarket defendant Albert) Parsons had been a pain in his side for a long time. Marshall Field wanted them hanged.</p><p><strong>Green:</strong> Lyman Trumbull (a former U.S. senator who lived in Chicago), who&rsquo;s another one of these Lincolnian Republicans, thinks that these men&rsquo;s lives should be spared. It&rsquo;s a conflict within the Republican Party over this whole thing. In the end of course, there&rsquo;s no question what will be the outcome.</p><p><strong>Smith: </strong>No mainstream politician defended them. And Altgeld (Gov. John Peter Altgeld, the Democrat who pardoned the three Haymarket defendants serving prison sentences in 1893) didn&rsquo;t defend them. He said that they didn&rsquo;t get a fair trial. He called it a miscarriage of justice. He didn&rsquo;t say they were right.</p><p><strong>Pacyga: </strong>He hurt his political career with the pardons, absolutely. He turned the power elite against him.</p><p><strong>Messer-Kruse: </strong>I don&rsquo;t think that&rsquo;s really true. In fact, you could argue that it actually was a springboard into other politics. For example, during the great 1896 Democratic convention in Chicago, Altgeld was clearly the toast of the convention.</p><p><strong>Fink:</strong> For the conservative forces in either party, Haymarket provided a kind of ready reference for the fears and threats of radicalism. The Haymarket defendants were quickly seen as un-American, as a&nbsp;threat to the social order. The Democrats would try to peel off the rank-and-file of the labor and radical movement. They would say: &ldquo;We can provide certain benefits if you&rsquo;ll come under our umbrella.&rdquo; For many former labor movement types, the Democratic Party became the only game in town.</p><p><strong>Pacyga:</strong> The Democratic Party appealed to solid bread-and-butter unionists who simply wanted things like better conditions, better pay, paid vacations.</p><p><span style="font-size:22px;"><strong>How did Haymarket affect immigrants living in Chicago?</strong></span></p><p><strong>Fink:</strong> It forced most immigrant groups to prove their respectability.</p><p><strong>Pacyga:</strong> There was tremendous anti-immigrant reaction and anti-Catholic reaction. Here were these Germans talking about throwing bombs and a bomb gets thrown. It proved the point that these radical ideologies were coming in from Europe and the gates should be closed.</p><p>There was a lot of class tension within (immigrant) communities. A lot of the cops that were killed were Irish working-class cops. (They) were putting down a working-class demonstration, which Irish attended. This ripped all these ethnic communities apart in one way or the other.</p><p><strong>Messer-Kruse: </strong>Haymarket provided tinder for (the anti-immigrant) movement by associating immigration and lawlessness and anarchy, but I wouldn&rsquo;t take that too far. The anti-immigrant tensions in a city like Chicago are not necessarily caused by the Haymarket bombing. They&rsquo;re caused by many factors.</p><p><strong>Green: </strong>Chicago was such a polyglot city that it was almost a little too late to be talking about pulling up the gates. I wouldn&rsquo;t say Chicago in the 1890s was a particularly hostile place for immigrants, more so than any other city.</p><p><span style="font-size:22px;"><strong>How did Haymarket change the police and courts in Chicago?</strong></span></p><p><strong>Messer-Kruse: </strong>The Chicago police were already beginning a long process of professionalization and modernization. And this event certainly sped that process up quite a bit. It also leads many states to take on more responsibility for the policing of labor struggles.</p><p><strong>Smith: </strong>It&rsquo;s the first major Red Scare. It sets a pattern: When something happens like this, you say it&rsquo;s outside agitators who are making this happen, so round them up and punish them. &ldquo;If we catch these guys and hang these guys, the problem will be solved.&rdquo;</p><p>You could never hold a trial like that now. There were plenty of other miscarriages of justice of all&nbsp;kinds, but generally speaking, in this country, trials got fairer. I think there was a sense afterwards that the trial was a case of &ldquo;the ends justify the means.&rdquo;</p><p><span style="font-size:22px;"><strong>How did Haymarket shape Chicago&rsquo;s reputation?</strong></span></p><p><strong>Messer-Kruse: </strong>Not that Chicago needed a lot of help, as far as its reputation goes, but from this time on, it does have a reputation as a hotbed of radicalism.</p><p><strong>Fink: </strong>It was an immigrant city. It was not in the hands of &ldquo;respectable&rdquo; Americans. So it had a kind of dangerous edge to it in the popular mind. On the other hand, for the political left, especially internationally, Chicago became famous for its radicalism and its martyrs. Like other flamboyant episodes of violence &mdash; like (John) Dillinger or (Al) Capone or other moments of disorder &mdash; it added to Chicago&rsquo;s reputation as a city on the edge.</p><p><strong>Smith: </strong>The bombing hurt Chicago&rsquo;s reputation, certainly. But it didn&rsquo;t slow its growth in any way. The population doubled in the 1880s and then doubled again in the 1890s. So in terms of people voting with their feet or capital coming in &mdash; or the decision to hold a World&rsquo;s Fair here (in 1893) &mdash; Haymarket didn&rsquo;t stop any of that.</p><p><strong>Pacyga:</strong> Chicago&rsquo;s position along the railroad lines and water make Chicago such an optimal place to invest in that (business owners) ignore these things. Plus, you&rsquo;ve got a government that generally supports big business. Ignores pollution. Ignores the times when big business steals water.</p><p><strong>Green: </strong>I&rsquo;m sure that the city fathers, (Tribune publisher) Joseph Medill and all of the big business guys were saying, &ldquo;Well, see, we took care of this problem now. We&rsquo;re not going to let that happen again.&rdquo; It may have in fact enhanced their reputation as tough law-and-order people keeping the lid on things. Of course, they failed. Something far worse occurs in 1894, the Pullman Strike. That was much, much worse violence.</p><p><strong>Green:</strong> In Jane Addams&rsquo; <em>Twenty Years at Hull House</em>, she talks about coming back from England around 1889. The city was still taken up with Haymarket. People were still tense. There was this attempt on her part and other liberals to try to create a civic forum where all of the hard feelings about Haymarket could be discussed and opened up and a new civic culture could be created and there wouldn&rsquo;t be so much hatred and class bitterness. That&rsquo;s what <a href="http://www.encyclopedia.chicagohistory.org/pages/615.html" target="_blank">Hull House</a> was about.</p><p>That&rsquo;s what the liberal Chicago was about: Let&rsquo;s make it a better city. Let&rsquo;s make it a city where there isn&rsquo;t so much hatred, and where immigrants don&rsquo;t feel so exploited, and where the police are not killing&nbsp;people. So that did begin to happen. People were saying, &ldquo;This is terrible. We&rsquo;ve got to fix this.&rdquo;</p><p>The <a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/your-ticket-white-city-108994" target="_blank">1893 World&rsquo;s Fair</a> is the symbolic triumph of that spirit: the great Chicago, the beneficent Chicago, the modern Chicago. Sometimes, these horrific events, acts of political violence, cause a city to do some sort of soul-searching.</p><p><strong><a name="slideshow"></a><span style="font-size:22px;">How did Haymarket affect the image of anarchists?</span></strong></p><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="true" frameborder="0" height="367" mozallowfullscreen="true" scrolling="no" src="http://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1Lz86udgxtNKfpd18q1R-9DFj51O97pEeJ_eELlEnS6E/embed?start=false&amp;loop=false&amp;delayms=5000" webkitallowfullscreen="true" width="600"></iframe></p><p><strong>Messer-Kruse:</strong>&nbsp;Before that time, anarchism was a much broader movement. It included a lot of philosophical anarchists who today we might term libertarians. After the Haymarket bombing, the popular understanding of anarchism becomes the bomb-throwing fiend, hiding behind a cape. A very rich and diverse philosophical movement gets collapsed into this one dimension of nihilism.</p><p><strong>Pacyga:</strong> Anarchism seems to me to be a utopian kind of idea. But after Haymarket, anarchists became these kind of slimy, bearded, bomb-throwing, evil monsters. All the cartoons in the press that appeared have people with long beards and long hair, and holding bombs in their hands and knives in their other hand &mdash; just these hideous kinds of criminals.</p><p><strong>Smith:</strong> Look at the (Thomas) Nast illustrations &mdash; a longhaired, wild-eyed, bomb-throwing mad person. No sane person could be an anarchist. And anybody who protested against the existing order was, in some people&rsquo;s eyes, an anarchist. The anarchists became this caricature. And if you didn&rsquo;t like a person who protested against the current order, you called him or her an anarchist &mdash; whether or not they really were. Anarchy became: &ldquo;I want chaos. I want disorder. I want to destroy any kind of order that&rsquo;s out there.&rdquo;</p><p><strong>Fink: </strong>The anarchists were through after Haymarket. Basically, they were rounded up. They were deported if they weren&rsquo;t jailed. Haymarket &mdash; followed by the assassination of (President William) McKinley at the hands of an anarchist just after the turn of the century &mdash; that finished (them) off as all but a fringe within the radical left of the country.</p><p><strong>Messer-Kruse: </strong>The cultural image of the bearded, stooped, dark, bomb-throwing anarchist has carried through to the present day. The very symbol of the sort of the round, globe bomb with the hissing fuse on it passes (through) the popular culture right up to Boris and Natasha and &ldquo;Spy vs. Spy.&rdquo; I think that image was born in the Haymarket. That image of the sulking, loner foreign, bomb-throwing anarchist has a great resonance in American culture.</p><p><span style="font-size:22px;"><strong>What connections do you see between the events of Haymarket and today?</strong></span></p><p><strong>Green: </strong>As in the 1880s, Chicago is a city of immigrants and a city of immigrants who are wage-earning people, many of whom are in low-wage occupations, many of whom may not be citizens&nbsp;at all or are viewed as second-class citizens. There are similarities with the Gilded Age and the extremes of wealth.</p><p>The unions are pretty tough in Chicago, but they&rsquo;re under assault. The mayor (Rahm Emanuel) would certainly love to get rid of the teachers union. There&rsquo;s a lot of pressure on unions to give up things. The eight-hour workday &mdash; for a lot of people &mdash; is not feasible anymore. You need to work two jobs and overtime.</p><p><strong>Fink: </strong>The larger issues of inequality, worker rights, the basic decency of the workplace are still very much alive today. And some of the issues &mdash; the length of the workday and whether there&rsquo;s a minimum wage &mdash; have returned to the political surface. Our culture is also constantly challenged by those who would find scapegoats as a way of turning away from the central issues raised by a movement or by radicals<a name="rhymefest"></a>.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="343" scrolling="no" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/iTEcyfQDdIk" width="610"></iframe></p><p style="text-align: center;"><em>(Rapper Rhymefest performs his update of the Haymarket-era &#39;Eight Hour Song&#39;</em><em>)</em></p><p><strong>Pacyga: </strong>The Occupy Chicago movement &mdash; I suppose the police are making these people out to be anarchists, but I don&rsquo;t think that, generally, the Occupy people are violent.</p><p>Think about how (Chicago Teachers Union President Karen) Lewis thinks about (Mayor) Rahm Emanuel today. Whose side is he on, according to the Chicago Teachers Union? There&rsquo;s always been that sort of conflict. In Chicago, people with clout are generally people who have money. And people who have money are not interested in supporting strikes &mdash; generally speaking.</p><p>America is a very middle-class culture. Revolutionary movements sprout up periodically, but they pass &mdash; because the majority of people do not embrace these ideologies. And if they embrace ideologies, they embrace them on the right rather than the left. That&rsquo;s part of our historical tradition.</p><p><strong><span style="font-size:20px;">Our five historians</span><a name="historians"></a></strong></p><p>Sincere thanks to the following the experts, who provided extensive interviews for our coverage of the Haymarket riot and its effects:</p><p><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/james%20green%20copy.png" style="float: left; height: 93px; width: 100px;" title="" /><strong>James Green</strong>, a history professor at the University of Massachusetts Boston, wrote the 2006 book <em>Death in the Haymarket: A Story of Chicago, the First Labor Movement, and the Bombing that Divided Gilded-Age America</em>.</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/carl%20smithcopy.jpg" style="height: 92px; width: 100px; float: left;" title="" /><strong>Carl Smith</strong>, an English professor at Northwestern University, focused on the incident&rsquo;s cultural effects in his 1995 book <em>Urban Disorder and the Shape of Belief: The Great Chicago Fire, the Haymarket Bomb, and the Model Town of Pullman</em>. He also curated the Chicago History Museum&rsquo;s <a href="http://www.chicagohistory.org/dramas/" target="_blank"><em>The Dramas of Haymarket </em></a>website.</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/dompac%20copy.jpg" style="height: 93px; width: 100px; float: left;" title="" /><strong>Dominic A. Pacyga</strong>, a history professor at Columbia College Chicago, put Haymarket into the context of the city&rsquo;s history with his 2009 book <em>Chicago: A Biography</em>.</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/cruse%20copy.jpg" style="float: left; height: 93px; width: 100px;" title="" /><strong>Timothy Messer-Kruse</strong>, a history professor at Bowling Green State University in Bowling Green, Ohio, has stirred controversy with his books <em>The Haymarket Trial: Terrorism and Justice in the Gilded Age </em>(2011) and <em>The Haymarket Conspiracy: Transatlantic Anarchist Networks</em> (2012), asserting there was actual evidence connecting some of the Haymarket defendants to a bombing conspiracy.</p><p><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/leonfink%20copy.jpg" style="height: 93px; width: 100px; float: left;" title="" /><strong>Leon Fink</strong>, a history professor at the University of Illinois at Chicago, has written several books on the Gilded Age and labor movements in the late 1800s.</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p><em>Robert Loerzel is a freelance journalist and the author of </em>Alchemy of Bones: Chicago&rsquo;s Luetgert Murder Case of 1897.<em>&nbsp;Follow him at <a href="https://twitter.com/robertloerzel" target="_blank">@robertloerzel</a>.</em></p></p> Tue, 29 Apr 2014 13:03:00 -0500 http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/after-haymarket-anarchism-trial-and-city-search-its-soul-110098 Schoenhofen Brewery: Of suds and (unfounded) suspicions http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/schoenhofen-brewery-suds-and-unfounded-suspicions-109530 <img typeof="foaf:Image" src="http://llnw.wbez.org/main-images/3228849121_80a727e9d1_o[1].jpg" alt="" /><p><p>Ted Land asked Curious City to clear up rumors about the old Schoenhofen Brewery in Chicago&rsquo;s Pilsen neighborhood.</p><p>Besides wanting to get a snapshot of the brewery in its heyday, Land also wanted someone to get to the bottom of persistent hearsay about the facility.</p><p>Here&rsquo;s his entire request, in his own words:</p><blockquote><p><em>My brother lives next door to the old Schoenhofen Brewery on W. 18th st. near Pilsen. I&#39;ve often wondered about the now-shuttered facility -- how busy it was and what they produced there. A quick internet search reveals some websites stating that Schoenhofen was once one of the largest brewers in the Midwest, which even had its own spring supplying fresh water to the operation. Another site mentions something about how federal agents seized the brewery during WWI because members of the Schoenhofen family were broadcasting radio messages to Germany from the brewery&#39;s tower. Any truth to this?</em></p></blockquote><p>My own investigation didn&rsquo;t get far; I found many anecdotes about the brewery, but no definitive source could end the confusion for good.</p><p>But then I found a relevant story in Mash Tun Journal. Paul Durica, a recent University of Chicago Ph.D. and frequent <a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/your-ticket-white-city-108994">Curious City collaborator</a>, brought his immense research skills to bear on the Schoenhofen rumors &mdash; once and for all.</p><div class="image-insert-image ">Durica shared his findings on an episode of the <a href="http://wbez.org/strangebrews">Strange Brews </a>podcast, joining Ted Land, me and my co-host, Alison Cuddy, for a taping in Pilsen, just a few blocks from the Schoenhofen Brewery. Among the points he took up:&nbsp;</div><ul><li class="image-insert-image ">Rumors of radio signals being broadcast to the German enemy during WWI.</li><li class="image-insert-image ">Claims about the brewery&#39;s water purity</li><li class="image-insert-image ">The brewery&#39;s appearance in the Blues Brother movie</li><li class="image-insert-image ">The brewery&#39;s creation of Green River soda pop</li></ul><p>After the conversation Land said, &ldquo;That&rsquo;s well more than I thought I&rsquo;d learn about this building. I still want to see the artesian springs, though.&rdquo;</p><p><em>Strange Brews is WBEZ&#39;s podcast covering craft beer and related culture. Hosted by Andrew Gill, Alison Cuddy and Tim Akimoff, episodes are recorded on location around the Midwest and include interesting guests including brewers, artists and craft beer lovers.&nbsp;<a href="http://www.twitter.com/andrewgill">Follow web producer Andrew Gill on Twitter</a>.</em></p></p> Thu, 16 Jan 2014 17:30:00 -0600 http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/schoenhofen-brewery-suds-and-unfounded-suspicions-109530 Curious tales from Chicago's past http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/curious-tales-chicagos-past-109432 <img typeof="foaf:Image" src="http://llnw.wbez.org/main-images/history books photo flickr inspector_81.jpg" alt="" /><p><p><iframe frameborder="no" height="350" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/playlists/7198832&amp;color=ff6600&amp;auto_play=false&amp;show_artwork=true" width="620"></iframe></p><p>The Chicago Fire. Mrs. O&rsquo;Leary&rsquo;s Barn. Fort Dearborn. Al Capone. We&rsquo;re not going to talk about any of that here.</p><p>Instead, you&rsquo;ll find chapters of Chicago history missing from most textbooks. We bring you stories from Chicago&rsquo;s past that range from near-death pair-o-chute rides to rides on funeral train cars; forgotten zoos to abandoned hospitals; produce markets to telephone exchanges; asylums to sidewalks.</p><p>All of these stories started from <a href="http://curiouscity.wbez.org/" target="_blank">questions </a>you&rsquo;ve asked and you&rsquo;ve helped us report. There are enough of them that it&rsquo;s worth recapping what we&rsquo;ve learned about Chicago&rsquo;s peculiar past &mdash; through the lens of residents&rsquo; own curiosity.</p><p>The audio playlist above begins with an hour-long special featuring questions that span from the 1800s to today. You&rsquo;ll hear about <strong><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/should-we-use-l-word-jane-addams-108619" target="_blank">Victorian-era sexuality</a></strong>, <strong><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/story-dunning-tomb-living-106892" target="_blank">forgotten graves</a></strong> near an insane asylum, <strong><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/did-wwii-nuclear-experiment-make-u-c-radioactive-106681" target="_blank">radioactive secrets</a></strong>,&nbsp;<strong><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/what-happened-nike-missile-sites-around-chicago-105087" target="_blank">missiles</a></strong> that were a little too close to home, a long-gone&nbsp;<strong><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/laugh-your-troubles-away-105619" target="_blank">amusement park</a></strong>, <strong><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/neon-no-more-lincoln-avenues-motel-row-109050" target="_blank">seedy motels</a></strong> and &hellip; <strong><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/where-have-all-old-school-doughnut-shops-gone-108483" target="_blank">doughnuts</a></strong>, of all things. Below, we follow up with videos that tell what happened to Union Park&rsquo;s menagerie, what is was like to be a visitor at the 1893 World&rsquo;s Fair and why residents on the city&rsquo;s Northwest Side were afraid of Dunning Asylum for the Insane.</p><p>If you want to bring alive the history of Chicago, the region or its people <a href="http://curiouscity.wbez.org/" target="_blank">ask your question right now</a>! Otherwise, enjoy tales of local history &mdash; Curious City style!</p><p dir="ltr"><strong>Good reads:&nbsp;</strong></p><p dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/hosting-enemy-our-wwii-pow-camps-109344">Hosting the enemy: our WW II POW camps </a></p><p dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/story-dunning-tomb-living-106892">The story of Dunning, a &lsquo;tomb for the living&rsquo;</a></p><p dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/after-haymarket-anarchism-trial-and-city-search-its-soul-110098" target="_blank">After Haymarket: Anarchism on trial and a city in search of its soul</a></p><p dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/311-chicagos-early-phone-numbers-109135">The 311 on Chicago&rsquo;s early phone numbers ... and letters </a></p><p dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/gulp-how-chicago-gobbled-its-neighbors-109583" target="_blank">Gulp! How Chicago gobbled its neighbors</a></p><p dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/should-we-use-l-word-jane-addams-108619">Would Jane Addams be considered a lesbian? </a></p><p dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/bridges-span-river-and-decades-108903">History of downtown bridgehouses </a></p><p dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/marina-city-ideals-concrete-108072">Marina City: Ideals in concrete</a></p><p dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/laugh-your-troubles-away-105619">Riverview: Laugh your troubles away</a></p><p dir="ltr"><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/what-happened-nike-missile-sites-around-chicago-105087">What happened to Nike missile sites around Chicago? </a></p><p><a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/question-answered-how-has-chicago%E2%80%99s-coastline-changed-over-decades-104328">How has Chicago&rsquo;s coastline changed? </a></p><p><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/videoseries?list=PL0LxICU6xOzOOOQCazHiJN9W9pvThPmjA" width="620"></iframe></p><p><em>Follow Curious City&nbsp;<a href="https://twitter.com/WBEZCuriousCity">@WBEZCurious City</a>.&nbsp;</em></p></p> Mon, 23 Dec 2013 12:31:00 -0600 http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/curious-tales-chicagos-past-109432 Hosting the enemy: Our WWII POW camps http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/hosting-enemy-our-wwii-pow-camps-109344 <p><p><iframe frameborder="0" height="325" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/playlists/16853521&amp;color=ff6600&amp;auto_play=false&amp;show_artwork=true" width="100%"></iframe></p><p>Orland Park resident and curious CPA Bill Healy describes himself as a World War II history buff, but he recalls a moment not long ago when his enthusiasm for the subject outstripped his knowledge of it. He was out with some friends after a game of golf, he says, and one of them brought up German prisoner of war camps in the suburbs. Bill was shocked! He&#39;d never heard of these before, so he hit up Curious City with this question:</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;"><em>Where were German POW camps located around Chicago during World War II?</em></p><p>Bill&rsquo;s question screamed for a visual treatment, so we put together <a href="http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/life-chicagos-german-pow-camps-109344#POWmap">this annotated map</a> that shows the camps&rsquo; locations and a bit more about them. Below, we also provide some context to make sense of it.</p><p>But with Bill&rsquo;s enthusiasm as our guide, we kept a lookout for interesting stories about life in and around the camps. We turned up several: A few were sad, a few were uplifting and a few had even grabbed headlines in decades past. Each is a reminder that Chicago&rsquo;s connection to World War II didn&rsquo;t just involve sending young men and women abroad; political and personal dramas unfolded at home, too.</p><p><strong>German POW camp locations</strong></p><p>The main camp was Fort Sheridan, with 1,300 POWs housed there from 1944 to 1945. Fort Sheridan also served as a sort of processing center and distributor of some 15,000 POWs, with prisoners being sent to smaller &ldquo;branch camps&rdquo; throughout the Midwest, a handful dotting Chicagoland.</p><p>Although nearly 425,000 POWs came to the United States during World War II, 370,000 of them were German. Many were captured while fighting in German Field Marshal Erwin Rommel&#39;s Afrika Corps.</p><p>We brought them to the U.S. for several reasons: First, it was too expensive provide food for prisoners held overseas. Also, camps were overcrowded in Europe, and our ally Great Britain asked for our help. Lastly, POWs could help fill the labor shortage in vital industries such as farming.</p><p>In the Chicago area, another few hundred were based in the Sweet Woods Forest Preserve near south suburban Thornton. They stayed in military-style barracks constructed during the Great Depression by the Civilian Conservation Corps. The Thornton site later housed a Girl Scout camp and even a high school.</p><p>Estimates suggest that between 75 and 250 POWs worked at Arlington Fields, south of Arlington Heights. Prisoners there were assigned to work at the United States Naval Air Station at Glenview. Also in Glenview, nearly 400 POWs were based at U.S. Camp Skokie in 1943. They worked in nearby orchards and farms, as well as the Naval Air Station. The facility was built by the Civil Conservation Corps and became a military police post before housing the German POWs. After the war ended, most of the facility was demolished, but one was preserved and housed a Girl Scout camp in the 1960s.<a name="POWmap"></a></p><p><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="620" mozallowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" src="//www.thinglink.com/card/467079498500669440" type="text/html" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="620"></iframe></p><p>About 200 POWs were based in Camp Pine in Des Plaines at the corner of Euclid and River Road. Some of those POWS worked in the greenhouse of Pesche&rsquo;s Flowers, which is still open today. <a name="stories"></a></p><p><strong>The stories: Why Rudolf Velte returned 50 years later</strong><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://llnw.wbez.org/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/Rudolf_Velte_German_POW_circa_19451946 for WEB.jpg" style="height: 221px; width: 170px; float: right;" title="This photo of Rudolf Velte in uniform was taken by a photographer sent by a church group that visited the POWs. Velte worked at Pesche’s Flowers. (Photo courtesy of the Des Plaines History Center)" /></p><p>Rudolf Velte was a German POW who was held at Camp Pine during the end of World War II, from 1945 to 1946.&nbsp;He had fought in German Field Marshal General Erwin Rommel&rsquo;s Afrika Corps before he was taken prisoner by the French. He escaped. Conditions were abysmal, he said: &ldquo;There was not much to eat and drink and very bad medical care, leading to bad illnesses.&rdquo; Velte ended up turning himself in to English soldiers. From there the American army took over and brought him to the states.</p><p>Curious City&rsquo;s Edie Rubinowitz went to Des Plaines learn more about this POW who picked carnations and made a special delivery more than fifty years later. She also discovered tapes that caught Velte recounting his story to (and being translated by) an American cousin, Art Bodenbender.</p><p><iframe frameborder="0" height="300" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/playlists/16855476&amp;color=ff6600&amp;auto_play=false&amp;show_artwork=false" width="100%"></iframe></p><p><strong>The stories: Reinhold Pabel&rsquo;s escape to Uptown</strong></p><p><embed flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;noautoplay=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;feat=flashalbum&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=https%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2F103395493521839527756%2Falbumid%2F5955883370124599073%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26authkey%3DGv1sRgCKfO2Imck8PCDQ%26hl%3Den_US" height="400" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" src="https://static.googleusercontent.com/external_content/picasaweb.googleusercontent.com/slideshow.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="600"></embed></p><p><em>(Press play for slideshow. Press paper icon to see captions)&nbsp;</em></p><p>Not all German POWs had fond memories of their imprisonment in America. Reinhold Pabel&rsquo;s experience was not as idyllic as Velte&rsquo;s. Yes, Pabel did get to take courses he wanted to &mdash; he learned Persian, for example &mdash; but he said the Nazi and anti-Nazi tensions ran high in Camp Grant in Rockford, Ill. Prisoners were forced to pick sides and those who were anti-Nazi could face beatings by the Nazis.</p><p>Pabel was also not enamored with the U.S. government&rsquo;s efforts to &ldquo;de-Nazify&rdquo; prisoners. The audio piece below tells the surprising story of how Pabel learned about the American way of life on his own. (Vocal reenactments courtesy of Peter Spies)</p><p><iframe frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/124240519&amp;color=ff6600&amp;auto_play=false&amp;show_artwork=false" width="100%"></iframe></p><p><em>Edie Rubinowitz is a professor of journalism at Northeastern Illinois University and a former WBEZ news reporter. You can follow her on Twitter @<a href="https://twitter.com/edester" target="_blank">edester</a>.</em></p><p>&nbsp;</p></p> Tue, 10 Dec 2013 16:36:00 -0600 http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/hosting-enemy-our-wwii-pow-camps-109344 'Art and Appetite' looks at 250 years of American bellies and politics http://www.wbez.org/news/culture/art-and-appetite-looks-250-years-american-bellies-and-politics-109163 <p><p dir="ltr"><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://llnw.wbez.org/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/Norman-Rockwell_Freedom-from-Want (2).jpg" style="float: left; height: 322px; width: 250px;" title="Norman Rockwell. Freedom from Want, 1942. Lent by the Norman Rockwell Museum, Norman Rockwell Art Collection Trust. " />Earlier this week the Art Institute of Chicago lifted the silver dome on its latest treat, an exhibit called &ldquo;Art and Appetite.&rdquo;</p><p dir="ltr">Featuring 100 paintings, sculptures and pieces of decorative arts, it offers a delicious romp through the victuals of 18th, 19th and 20th Century America. &nbsp;On a timely note, &ldquo;Art and Appetite&rdquo; kicks off with a &ldquo;Thanksgiving&rdquo; gallery featuring a pop art turkey by Roy Lichtenstein and Norman Rockwell&rsquo;s 1943 &nbsp;&ldquo;Freedom From Want,&rdquo; a painting that, for better or for worse, has come to define what the modern American Thanksgiving is supposed to look like.</p><p dir="ltr">And while sometimes a painted apple is just an apple, curator Judith Barter says food depictions are often served with a side of biting commentary on politics, social mores, national eating patterns and cultural decline.</p><p dir="ltr">Take, for instance, Francis Edmond&rsquo;s 1838 painting called &ldquo;The Epicure,&rdquo; depicting a gentleman eyeing a suckling pig for sale.</p><div class="image-insert-image "><div class="image-insert-image "><div class="image-insert-image "><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/Francis-Edmonds_Epicure%20%281%29.jpg" title="Francis W. Edmonds. The Epicure, 1838. Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art, Hartford, CT. The Ella Gallup Sumner and Mary Catlin Sumner Collection Fund." /></div></div></div><p dir="ltr">&ldquo;It&rsquo;s loosely based on a previous Dutch picture from the 17th Century,&rdquo; Barter says. &ldquo;But it&rsquo;s also a political cartoon. When Andrew Jackson is president there is a large debate over sectionalism in the country: Northern banking interests versus the Jeffersonian ideal of Southern small farmers. And so the wealthy gourmand here with his snuff box and big side of beef and Madeira represents the North. He has stopped at a country inn and he is being presented with a suckling pig, which represents the prevalent meat of the South, by a simple farmer and his wife. So there are political overtones to this as well.&rdquo;</p><p dir="ltr">The exhibit also features an entire gallery of still life paintings &mdash; mostly by 19th Century &nbsp;painter Raphaelle Peale &mdash; that can be appreciated as dazzling food porn or biting commentaries on the social, economic and agricultural issues of his era.</p><p dir="ltr">This one, Barter notes, illuminates the era&rsquo;s seasonal produce as well as the kinds of glass and porcelain goods that were being exported from China at the time.</p><div class="image-insert-image "><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/Raphaelle-Peale_Still-Life-Strawberries-Nuts%20%281%29.jpg" title="Raphaelle Peale. Still Life - Strawberries, Nuts, &amp;c., 1822. Art Institute of Chicago. Gift of Jamee J. and Marshall Field." />&nbsp;Another Peale painting from the 1820&rsquo;s depicts cabbage, squash, okra, &nbsp;squash blossoms and tomatoes, which Barter notes Americans considered &ldquo;nasty smelling&rdquo; and didn&rsquo;t generally eat raw. &nbsp;</div><p dir="ltr">But the painting also features a warty, cucumber-like fruit filled with red poisonous seeds and a pointed message. &nbsp;</p><p dir="ltr">&ldquo;It&rsquo;s called a balsam pear,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;At this period of time in the 1820s there is already lots of discussion about Americans&rsquo; use of their land and preserving it. Former President James Madison, in 1819, is addressing Congress and other groups about how Americans need to plow under their spent crops and rotate their crops and better take care of their land. So, to me, this [poisonous fruit among late summer crops] is a little trouble introduced into the Garden of Eden.&rdquo;</p><p dir="ltr">&ldquo;Art and Appetite&rdquo; also features galleries devoted to trompe l&rsquo;oeil paintings of single ingredients, others devoted to restaurant (Edward Hopper&#39;s &ldquo;Nighthawks&rdquo;) and cocktail culture, and another to simple rustic, home recipes. &nbsp;</p><p dir="ltr">While some folks may love &ldquo;Art and Appetite&rdquo; for its window into the bellies of 18th and 19th Americans (at least among a certain class of bellies), others may appreciate the more conceptual 20th Century pop art of Andy Warhol and sculptor Claes Oldenburg, whose works include a giant fried egg and pile of green beans.</p><p dir="ltr">And for those who want to take some of this back to their homes and kitchens, there is a lovely companion book ($30-$50) with fascinating analysis and historical recipes for things like &ldquo;sheepes tongue pie,&rdquo; potted pigeons and molasses cake. Some of these recipes and more contemporary American dishes from top Chicago chefs are also featured on the <a href="http://extras.artic.edu/artandappetite">exhibit&rsquo;s website</a>, which launched this week. Bon appetit!</p><p dir="ltr"><em>Monica Eng is a producer for WBEZ. Follow her on Twitter @monicaeng.&nbsp;</em></p></p> Fri, 15 Nov 2013 12:29:00 -0600 http://www.wbez.org/news/culture/art-and-appetite-looks-250-years-american-bellies-and-politics-109163 The 311 on Chicago's early phone numbers http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/311-chicagos-early-phone-numbers-109135 <p><p><iframe frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/151751087&amp;color=ff5500&amp;auto_play=false&amp;hide_related=false&amp;show_artwork=true" width="100%"></iframe></p><p>Phone numbers weren&rsquo;t always just numbers.</p><p>Jeffrey Osman of Chicago&rsquo;s Bucktown neighborhood is sure of it. He remembers calling his friend Richie, a Humboldt Park resident, by dialing HUmboldt 6-5127. Translation on the telephone keypad: 486-5127.</p><p>Before 1977, Chicago phone numbers were often listed as Jeffrey remembers. The letters, which signified longer words, had once stood for exchanges &mdash; places where operators directed calls by plugging cords into switchboards with electric jacks that corresponded to individual telephone numbers.</p><p><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/osmun.jpg" style="height: 133px; width: 200px; margin: 5px; float: right;" title="Jeffrey Osman had a hunch that old Chicago phone numbers were somehow tied to geography. (WBEZ/Chris Bentley)" />Jeffrey&rsquo;s recollection was strong, but the backstory nagged him &mdash; enough that he sent Curious City this question:</p><p style="text-align: center;"><em>&ldquo;What is the history behind the old telephone exchanges? For example, how did they get names like HUmboldt 6?&rdquo;</em></p><p>What did we find after we dialed up the history of numbers and phone technology? Two big points. The first is that today&rsquo;s smartphone users &mdash; the most savvy of which rarely even use phone numbers &mdash; may not realize there was a time when dialing pals required a working list of phone numbers and perhaps letters. It was also best to have a mental map of where contacts were physically located!</p><p>The other takeaway is that Chicago&rsquo;s exchange names are more than interesting relics of an earlier time: They&rsquo;re part of the city&rsquo;s identity as a collection of neighborhoods.</p><p><strong>Operator, please</strong></p><p>Let&rsquo;s go back to the beginning. Chicago&rsquo;s first telephone exchange opened in 1878. Then, you actually told the operator the name and address you were trying to reach. Chicago&rsquo;s first switchboards were at the telephone company&rsquo;s central office downtown, and in two branches at Halsted Street and Canal Street.</p><p>Here&rsquo;re a few significant dates in the evolution of telephone numbers:</p><ul><li dir="ltr"><p>Until <strong>1923</strong>, a dialer would call an operator and ask for the person they wanted to reach by giving their exchange name or number. Phone numbers were just three or four digits, <a href="http://phone.net46.net/chicago/index.html" target="_blank">with an exchange name tacked onto the front</a>. Names were sometimes selected to be memorable or easily understood over the phone. &ldquo;CALUMET-555,&rdquo; for example, could be taken from local Chicago geography.</p></li><li dir="ltr"><p>From <strong>1921-1948</strong>, dialers used three letters and four numbers. Operator-free dialing had also become common (<a href="http://99percentinvisible.org/episode/strowger-switch-purple-reign-redux/" target="_blank">the unlikely origins of the first automatic, operator-free dialing is the subject of an episode of 99 Percent Invisible</a>). Exchanges were given three-digit numbers and names that could be signified by the letters located on phone dials. CALUMET, for example, was 225 (CAL).</p></li><li dir="ltr"><p>Area codes were introduced in <strong>1947</strong>.</p></li><li dir="ltr"><p>In <strong>1948 </strong>local exchange name codes shrunk to just two letters, making room for a fifth digit that would allow phone companies to meet growing demand for new numbers. When possible, the old exchange names were preserved &mdash; to continue the example above, Calumet became CAlumet 5. Some number combinations didn&rsquo;t spell much at all, let alone a name that happened to have local significance. AT&amp;T had national lists of recommended exchange names, so <a href="http://forgottenchicago.com/articles/old-telephone-numbers/" target="_blank">some of Chicago&rsquo;s old exchange prefixes have nothing to do with the region</a>.</p></li><li dir="ltr"><p>In <strong>1958 </strong>Wichita Falls, Texas, <a href="http://www.privateline.com/TelephoneHistory3A/numbers.html" target="_blank">became the first U.S. city to institute &quot;true number calling&quot;</a> &mdash; seven numerical digits without letters or names.</p></li><li dir="ltr"><p>But in Chicago, many subscribers were loath to give up their exchange names. It took until <strong>1977 </strong>to fully phase out the system, and exchange names showed up in some Chicago phonebooks into the 1980s.</p></li></ul><p><strong>Local calls only</strong></p><p>It&rsquo;s probably no surprise that history buffs are interested in anything having to do with changing technology, but you may not realize that some small groups are dedicated enough to maintain databases of the names. One group &mdash; <a href="http://rcrowe.brinkster.net/tensearch.aspx" target="_blank">The Telephone EXchange Name Project</a> &mdash; continues to accept new entries.</p><p><a href="http://llnw.wbez.org/insert-images/1959 Cover Chicago Exchange Names_0.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/1959%20Cover%20Chicago%20Exchange%20Names.jpg" style="margin: 5px; float: left; height: 263px; width: 350px;" title="A Chicago phone book cover shows exchange names. Click for a larger size. " /></a>Exchange names are also of interest to pop culture mavens. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TaCLxyvcKiU" target="_blank">Glenn Miller&#39;s 1940 hit &quot;Pennsylvania 6-5000&quot;</a> got its name from the phone number for The Hotel Pennsylvania in New York &mdash; 212-736-5000 &mdash; supposedly the city&rsquo;s longest continuously operational phone number. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/channel/HCIXOcLtgicWQ" target="_blank">Elizabeth Taylor won her first Oscar for the 1960 movie &quot;BUtterfield 8,&quot;</a> The film was named for the telephone exchange used by its main character.</p><p>But for our questioner, Jeffrey Osman, exchanges&rsquo; local relevance is paramount.</p><p>&ldquo;It created an awareness, I think, of where you were,&rdquo; he says. &ldquo;There are 77 distinct neighborhoods [in Chicago], and pretty much we&rsquo;re a very parochial people.&rdquo;</p><p>He still remembers several old numbers:&nbsp;&ldquo;I banked at Chicago Federal Savings, and that was&nbsp;Financial&nbsp;6-5000. We used to ride the Rock Island Railroad. The LaSalle Street station was&nbsp;Wabash&nbsp;2-3200.&rdquo;</p><p>So, in the sense that they were easy to remember, the geographical names worked.</p><p>The exchange names are gone, Jeffrey says, but Chicago&rsquo;s local pride endures.</p><p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s still that sense of neighborhood identity and awareness here.&rdquo;</p><p style=" margin: 12px auto 6px auto; font-family: Helvetica,Arial,Sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 14px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; -x-system-font: none; display: block;"><a href="http://www.scribd.com/doc/183687346/Chicago-Telephone-Exchanges" name="scribd" style="text-decoration: underline;" title="View Chicago Telephone Exchanges on Scribd">Chicago Telephone Exchanges</a></p><p><iframe class="scribd_iframe_embed" data-aspect-ratio="undefined" data-auto-height="false" frameborder="0" height="600" id="doc_18822" scrolling="no" src="//www.scribd.com/embeds/183687346/content?start_page=1&amp;view_mode=scroll&amp;show_recommendations=true" width="100%"></iframe></p></p> Tue, 12 Nov 2013 13:21:00 -0600 http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/311-chicagos-early-phone-numbers-109135 Where have all the old-school doughnut shops gone? http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/where-have-all-old-school-doughnut-shops-gone-108483 <p><p><a name="doughnut crawl vid"></a></p><p><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="460" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/_GIrh8A2Mr4?rel=0" width="620"></iframe><iframe frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F106569327&amp;color=ff6600&amp;auto_play=false&amp;show_artwork=false" width="100%"></iframe></p><p>Whoever asked the question behind this Curious City story didn&rsquo;t leave a name or a working email address. But I begged to investigate this question:</p><p dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;"><em>Does Chicago have any more privately-owned doughnut shops, and which is the best?</em></p><p>I had two reasons:</p><p>1. &nbsp;To eat a lot of doughnuts.</p><p>2. &nbsp;To honor my old friend and roommate Howard Greenwich by investigating something that had always bugged him.</p><p>Howard left Chicago years ago, but I still remember his laments about the city&rsquo;s doughnut situation. &nbsp;</p><p>So does he. &ldquo;I came to Chicago in 1992, and the doughnut was my favorite guilty pleasure,&rdquo; he says, from Seattle, Wash. &ldquo;And I just remember, I traveled all over Chicago for my job, and everywhere I was, it was Dunkin&rsquo; Donuts, or pretty much nothing.&rdquo;</p><p>Which meant, as far as Howard was concerned, pretty much no donuts worth actually eating. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;re going to do that much damage to your body,&rdquo; he says, &ldquo;it should be good.&rdquo; &nbsp;</p><p>He was disappointed. And kind of mystified.</p><p>Howard grew up in Corning, Calif., which had a population of around 5,000 people &mdash; and a great local doughnut shop. He went to college in Grinnell, Iowa, which had fewer than 9,000 people at the time &mdash; and a great doughnut shop.</p><p>He had expected that a big city like Chicago would offer amazing doughnut possibilities. &nbsp;</p><p>So, this question is honor of Howard, because the question &mdash; <em>Are there any independent shops left?</em> &mdash; contains another question, a deeper mystery: <em>What happened to all of them?</em></p><p>The obvious answer is: Dunkin&rsquo; Donuts killed them all. &nbsp;</p><p>The real answer turns out to be more complicated &mdash; and more interesting. &nbsp;<img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://llnw.wbez.org/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/doughnut vault sign for WEB.jpg" style="height: 287px; width: 430px; float: right;" title="The aesthetics of Doughnut Vault in Chicago's Loop are telling of the city's doughnut history. While old-school doughnut shops still exist, they do so among the growing number of pricier and more artisanal shops. (Logan Jaffe/WBEZ)" /></p><p>I talked with the guy who brought Dunkin&rsquo; Donuts to Chicago: Bob Rosenberg. In 1963, at age 25, he took the company over from his dad, William Rosenberg, right after graduating from Harvard Business School. (He&rsquo;s like the George W. Bush of Donuts.)</p><p>And Bob had spent his last year at Harvard devising a strategy for what he would do with his dad&rsquo;s business. At the time, the company had around 80 doughnut shops all over the country, a hamburger chain in the Boston area, and a bunch of commissary trucks. (Fun fact: Bill Rosenberg invented the roach coach. That was his first business.)</p><p>So, Bob got rid of everything except for Dunkin&rsquo; Donuts, and he said:<em> Look, we&rsquo;re gonna only concentrate on five cities. And we&rsquo;re gonna</em> &mdash; he used this great term with me &mdash; <em>&quot;fortress&rdquo; those markets.</em></p><p>In other words, they would establish a big presence in these places to build up brand awareness, and to get efficiencies in distribution and support. Plus, all the stores would kick into a kitty so they could advertise. They would build up a fortress in the battle against their competitors.</p><p>But they were never competing with other doughnut shops to sell people doughnuts. They were competing with 7-11 and White Hen to sell people coffee. Convenience stores.</p><p>&ldquo;That&#39;s where people stop for &lsquo;coffee-and&rsquo; in the morning, so that&rsquo;s who our competitors were,&rdquo; says Rosenberg. &ldquo;And quite truthfully, I had no idea how many doughnut shops there might have been.&rdquo;</p><p>The doughnut business, he says, is a much tougher racket than the coffee business.</p><p>&ldquo;Doughnuts are consumed maybe on a special occasion by the consumer,&rdquo; he says. &ldquo;Maybe once every two or three weeks they go to a doughnut shop? Whereas, with coffee, your heavy users are buying it two or three times a day. It&#39;s a whole different business.&rdquo; &nbsp;</p><p>These days, Dunkin&rsquo;s coffee-centricity is all out front. In the 1990s the company <a href="http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,289798,00.html">dumped the mascot it had been using in TV commercials for 15 years</a> &mdash; a droopy, early-rising guy called Fred the Baker.</p><p><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="465" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/petqFm94osQ" width="620"></iframe></p><p>Later, the company adopted a slogan that reflects the company&rsquo;s role as a caffeine peddler: America runs on Dunkin. &nbsp;</p><p>But even back when Bob Rosenberg brought Dunkin&#39; Donuts to Chicago in 1965 &mdash; years before Fred the Baker went on TV &mdash; coffee already represented 60 percent of Dunkin&#39; Donuts sales in its home markets. &nbsp;</p><p>Which was no accident.</p><p>&ldquo;We were very fastidious about how we made our coffee,&rdquo; says Rosenberg. &ldquo;Where it was grown, how it was roasted, how much coffee per pot, the fact that we used real cream when nobody else could get it in the United States. Most dairies didn&rsquo;t make 18 percent light cream. I mean, we were slavish in the attention we paid to our beverages.&rdquo;</p><p>Also: They tossed out the coffee every 18 minutes, instead of letting it sit on the burner.</p><p>So, Dunkin&rsquo; Donuts was Starbucks &mdash; building a brand around meticulously-crafted coffee &mdash; before Starbucks was Starbucks.</p><p><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/firecakes%20for%20web.jpg" style="height: 267px; width: 400px; float: left;" title="Firecakes on Hubbard Street offers both traditional and innovative doughnut options. While the doughnuts may be a bit pricier than those in older shops, their complexity shows a new trend in the doughnut business. (Logan Jaffe/WBEZ)" />Side note: Actually, Dunkin&rsquo; Donuts was Starbucks before it was even Dunkin&rsquo; Donuts.</p><p>Remember how Bob Rosenberg&rsquo;s dad, Bill Rosenberg, started out as the original roach coach guy?</p><p>His first big hit was coffee. And he charged twice as much for coffee as the next guy &mdash; a dime instead of a nickel.</p><p>But it was a much, much better cup of coffee. At the time, the only place to get a really good cup of coffee was a fancy hotel. Bill Rosenberg called the company that supplied the fancy hotels and said he wanted the same stuff. A <em>lot</em> of it. &nbsp;</p><p>He had his workers offer the coffee for free. If customers didn&rsquo;t think it was worth a dime, they didn&rsquo;t have to pay anything. But they did pay the dimes, and they came back the next day for more. &nbsp;</p><p>And Dunkin&rsquo; Donuts didn&rsquo;t take out other donut shops in head-to-head competition. Dunkin was actually in a different, more-profitable business: coffee. &nbsp;</p><p>But still, what happened to all of those doughnut shops? How many did there used to be?</p><p>To find out, I went to the Chicago Public Library&rsquo;s Special Collections room to look in the Yellow Pages &mdash; from 1963 &mdash; two years before Dunkin&#39; Donuts came to Chicago.</p><p><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/photo%20%282%29.JPG" style="height: 440px; width: 330px; float: right;" title="One look in the Yellow Pages from 1963 shows a number of privately-owned doughnut shops that have since gone out of business.(Source: 1963 Yellow Pages)" />And you know how many there were? 20.</p><p>In a city the size of Chicago, there were only 20 doughnut shops. (There were also tons and tons of bakeries, but still.)</p><p>As a point of comparison, I looked at the 2013 Yellow Pages for Los Angeles. It lists like 150 donut shops. 150! &nbsp;</p><p>None of them is a Dunkin&rsquo; Donuts. Only one is a Krispy Kreme.</p><p>So, LA has more than seven times as many locally-owned doughnut shops today as Chicago had in 1963. &nbsp;</p><p>Why? Well, in 1963, when Bob Rosenberg took over Dunkin&rsquo; Donuts, he made a cross-country trip to scope out potential markets. And California looked terrifying.</p><p>&ldquo;There were thousands and thousands of existing competitors,&rdquo; he says. &ldquo;There were coffee shops everywhere,&rdquo; plus an existing regional doughnut-and-coffee chain called Winchells. They were big at the time.</p><p>So when he picked five cities to &ldquo;fortress,&rdquo; LA and San Francisco were off the list. Fifty years later, <a href="http://www.latimes.com/business/money/la-fi-mo-dunkin-donuts-southern-california-20130725,0,5012811.story">Dunkin&rsquo; Donuts is making news in LA</a> with an attempt to crack that market. In 2013.</p><p>What is the deal? Why all the mom-and-pop donut action in LA?</p><p>I&rsquo;ve encountered a couple of theories. For instance, Paul Mullins, author of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Glazed-America-A-History-Doughnut/dp/0813032385">Glazed America: A History of the Doughnut</a>, chalks it up to LA&rsquo;s &ldquo;car culture,&rdquo; which made doughnut stands a natural, since they&rsquo;d sell something you could eat behind the wheel. &nbsp;</p><p>&hellip; But we&rsquo;re getting far afield. What was our original question again?</p><p>Right: Does Chicago have independent doughnut shops anymore?</p><p>Answer: Yes.</p><p>In the city proper there are more than half a dozen, including <a href="https://www.google.com/maps?layer=c&amp;z=17&amp;sll=41.744338,-87.604851&amp;cid=6088900179239238883&amp;panoid=_piYUsaPuB2S4kK0HuOHdg&amp;cbp=13,3.891336577672689,,0,0&amp;q=dat+donut&amp;sa=X&amp;ei=7x8VUs3DNcq8yAGlo4HYDQ&amp;ved=0CLoBEKAfMAs">Dat Donut</a>, <a href="http://www.huckfinnrestaurant.com/">Huck Finn</a>, <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/preview/uv?hl=en&amp;pb=!1s0x880fcde67b9f5f35:0xe21f8b2f0edc0a4c!2m5!2m2!1i80!2i80!3m1!2i100!3m1!7e1!4shttps://plus.google.com/104622753463139059098/photos?hl%3Den%26socfid%3Dweb:lu:kp:placepageimage%26socpid%3D1!5sdonut+doctor+chicago+-+Google+Search&amp;sa=X&amp;ei=RiAVUqnHC-rJygGQooD4Dw&amp;ved=0COYBEKIqMAs">Donut Doctor</a>, and four artisan-style, two-bucks-and-up-a-pop, doughnuts-are-the-new-cupcakes type shops in and around the Loop: <a href="http://firecakesdonuts.com/">Firecakes</a>, <a href="http://thedoughnutvault.tumblr.com/">The Doughnut Vault</a>, <a href="http://doritedonuts.com/">Do-Rite Donuts</a>, and <a href="http://www.goglazed.com/">Glazed and Infused</a>. Plus a food truck called <a href="http://beaversdonuts.com/">Beavers Coffee + Donuts</a>.</p><p>(Really, Beavers does something that&rsquo;s halfway between a doughnut hole and a beignet, but they&rsquo;ve got Donut in the name.)</p><p>And then there&rsquo;s the best: Old Fashioned Donuts in Roseland, at 112th and Michigan. If you haven&rsquo;t already looked at Logan Jaffe&rsquo;s <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_GIrh8A2Mr4" target="_blank">video of our Epic Doughnut Quest</a>, you might want to scroll up and do that now.</p><p>But briefly, here&rsquo;s the deal: They are the best doughnuts &mdash; the platonic idea of a doughnut. And the shop itself (recall that the question was about the best shop, not just the best doughnut) is all charm.<img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/FOR%20WEB.jpg" style="height: 300px; width: 450px; float: left;" title="The Williams family picks out their favorite doughnuts at Dat Donut in Chicago's Chatham neighborhood. The Williams family joined Curious City on its first ever doughnut crawl to help decide which privately-owned doughnut shop is the best. (Logan Jaffe/WBEZ)" /></p><p>Big picture windows show off the fryer, the rolling pin, and the donuts being made by hand. &nbsp;Specifically, the hand of owner Buritt Bulloch, who opened the shop in 1972.</p><p>Bulloch sees the story of doughnuts in Chicago very much the way Bob Rosenberg does. He doesn&rsquo;t really know what happened to the other doughnut shops, but he does know that Dunkin isn&rsquo;t his competition. They&rsquo;re about sandwiches and coffee.</p><p>&ldquo;They keep a few doughnuts on the shelf, just to bear the name doughnut ,&rdquo; he says, laughing. &ldquo;But we move quite a bit of product here.&rdquo;</p><p>They do. There&rsquo;s always a line. &nbsp;</p><p>And Buritt Bulloch was artisan doughnuts before artisan doughnuts were artisan doughnuts. Here&rsquo;s his philosophy:</p><p>&ldquo;People ask me, &lsquo;Why don&rsquo;t you expand? Why don&rsquo;t you franchise?&rsquo; I really came here just to make a living,&rdquo; he says. &ldquo;I love the work, so I just kinda hung with this.</p><p>At 74 years old, he plans to keep hanging with it for another decade.</p><p>&ldquo;I can do it,&rdquo; he says. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m in good shape. That rolling pin will keep me going.&rdquo;</p><p>So, you&rsquo;re on notice: If you want the best doughnut in Chicago, you&rsquo;ve got about ten years to get yourself to 112th and Michigan.</p><p>Meanwhile, for more fun details on the growth of Dunkin&rsquo; Donuts, <a href="http://www.bostonmagazine.com/2010/08/dunkins-run-a-love-story/">Boston Magazine did an oral history of the company</a> that&rsquo;s packed with great facts and quotes. There&rsquo;s also founder William Rosenberg&rsquo;s autobiography, <a href="http://books.google.com/books/about/Time_to_make_the_donuts.html?id=RV5aAAAAYAAJ">Time to Make the Donuts</a>, in which he discusses his eventual disillusionment with his son Bob&rsquo;s approach to running the company.</p><p>Final footnote: You&rsquo;ll notice that most of the shops mentioned in this story use the spelling &ldquo;donut,&rdquo; where we&rsquo;ve used &ldquo;doughnut&rdquo; here. Thank the <a href="http://justedits.org/post/24198007477/doughnut-vs-donut">Associated Press Stylebook</a> for making us the odd one out.</p><p><em>Dan Weissmann is an independent producer in Chicago. See more of his stuff at <a href="http://danweissmann.com/">danweissmann.com</a> and follow him <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/danweissmann">@danweissmann</a>.</em></p></p> Wed, 21 Aug 2013 15:22:00 -0500 http://www.wbez.org/series/curious-city/where-have-all-old-school-doughnut-shops-gone-108483