WBEZ | Oak Park

How 90s rap, Shel Silverstein, and Oak Park influenced a former Chicagoan director

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 13:30:00 -0500

For Jonah Ansell, Chicago mattered. His experiences growing up in and near the city in the Western suburb of Oak Park directly nurtured his creative pursuits. His latest work, Cadaver, is a lushly-constructed and visually-mesmerizing graphic novel and animated short film starring Oak Park teen and fashion/media mogul Tavi Gevinson, Academy Award winner Kathy Bates, and Christopher Lloyd. It tells the story of a cadaver who wakes up to tell his wife a final goodbye only to discover a truth about death he did not know in life. A mix of child-like storytelling with more mature themes, Cadaver is a testament to the power of the grand narrative in creating works of fiction. The film plays April 23 at the Edlis Neeson Theater at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago. A discussion and book signing follows. Tickets are available online.

“I didn’t appreciate how nurturing of an environment I was in until I came back,” Ansell said about his experiences growing up in Oak Park. Ansell’s family moved to the suburb from the city when he was young. It was his experiences attending William Beye Elementary School, growing up on Humphrey Avenue, reading voraciously – that shaped his love of storytelling. Ansell counted one experience – painting murals on the walls of the elementary school – as particularly affecting.

“This concept that this communal space doesn’t just have to be a walk through and that you can empower kids to do what they want to do was powerful,” he said. “The idea that you could make stuff and comment on the human experience as performance stuck with me.”

Cadaver began as a poem Ansell wrote for his sister on her first day cutting open a dead body in medical school. The poem was a means of providing a touch of humor and humanity to the medical profession.

“We as humans are not islands,” Ansell said. “We’re not separated from what we do in life.”

Although he claims she rejected the work, the story stayed with him long after he wrote it.

“In this light-hearted whimsical ride, I realized there was a worldview about how people are, what life is, what love is," Ansell said. "It was all wrapped up in this little tiny poem.”

This story of the human experience soon sprang forth as a fully-formed narrative.

The work begged for a visual component that was as immediately captivating, but still embraced the small scale of the project. More than 400 artists working in a variety of mediums were interviewed for the project. The crew eventually chose Seattle-based 2D animator and artist Carina Simmons. Simmons’ illustrations are angular and visceral with a style more realistic and human than not. Emotions are vividly drawn and felt by audiences.

When creating Cadaver, which in its simplest form is a love story, the crew saw Simmons’ work as a complement to the emotional scope of the story.

“You have to be careful that it doesn’t come across saccharine or sugary sweet,” Ansell said. “We knew we had to add a little edge, so it would emotionally land where we were attempting for it to land. That’s where that artwork helped clarify the film we were trying to go for.”

The animation took about three months and the entire film production took six months, with the artist stationed in Seattle, the animator in San Francisco, and many of the crew based in Los Angeles.

Casting actors was surprisingly less complicated. Gevinson was the first hire. A longtime family friend, Gevinson was the first person Ansell approached and she immediately signed on. The two previously worked together on another film, First Bass, shot on location at Wrigley Field.

In terms of Lloyd and Bates, Ansell and his crew created a wish list of people they assumed would reject them and the two actors were at the top of their list. However, after emailing them and providing a few visual samples of what the work would look like, both signed on.

“It was a Hail Mary,” Ansell said.

Ansell cites influences ranging from George Carlin to 90s rap.

“For a kid growing up on Humphrey, this had a positive impact: what you can do with words, how you can bend words, how you would bring energy to what you’re saying,” he said.

Ansell also said he looked toward the storytelling structure of some of his favorite childhood authors: Roald Dahl and Shel Silverstein.

Ansell's summer mornings were spent outdoors playing with friends, but his afternoons were often spent reading. This love of reading informed the creation of a graphic novel in addition to the film.

“Whenever you have an idea for a story, you always wonder, what is the best medium to tell this story?” Ansell said. “[With books] you can linger, you can pause, you can flip the page back. You can’t do that with film.”

Britt Julious blogs about culture in and outside of Chicago. Follow Britt's essays for WBEZ's Tumblr or on Twitter @britticisms.

Oak Park's Continental Divide

Tue, 05 Mar 2013 05:00:00 -0600

Most of Chicago is flat as a pancake. That’s why the neighborhood I grew up in was special. We had a hill. I was so impressed that when I got my first camera, I went out and took a picture from the top of its dizzy heights.

Actually, our hill wasn’t a real hill. The rise along Narragansett Avenue was a ridge. Long ago Lake Michigan was much larger, and its waters covered most of what’s now the city of Chicago. The ridge marked one of the ancient lake’s beach lines.

That same Narragansett ridge stretches into Oak Park. Once I became an adult, I never paid much attention to it. Then, a few years ago, I was driving west on Chicago Avenue through Oak Park. Just as I crested the ridge I saw the historic marker on the parkway to the right.

The marker told the story. My childhood ridge was a continental divide.

The ridge separates two great watersheds. The rain that falls on the east of the ridge eventually flows into the Atlantic Ocean. The rain that falls on the west of the ridge goes toward the Mississippi River and the Gulf of Mexico.

Chicago was settled because of its convenient location between the two great watersheds. Think of the native peoples—or Marquette and Jolliet—paddling their canoes down Lake Michigan and the Chicago River, portaging a few miles over the ridge, then catching the Des Plaines River on the way to the Mississippi. We all learned that story in Early Chicago History 101.

The Oak Park markers were erected through the efforts of retired architect Bill Dring. With the help of Dennis McClendon at Chicago Cartographics, he located a 1927 map that identified the ridge as a continental divide. This particular one is known as the St. Lawrence Divide, because the east-flowing waters reach the Atlantic via the St. Lawrence River.

A few spoilsports have claimed that the Oak Park ridge isn’t an actual continental divide. Drop a bottle into the water and send it west from the ridge toward the Mississippi and the Gulf. If that bottle doesn’t get picked up or smashed, it’s still going to wind up in the Atlantic eventually. So what’s the big deal?

I don’t buy that argument. Over 70 percent of the earth’s surface is water, and all of it flows together at some place or another. The continents are really nothing more than giant islands. So if you want to get hyper-technical, you have to throw out the Rocky Mountain Divide, too.

Most of us will never get to Four Corners, and never be able to stand in four states at once. But with very little effort, we can straddle two great watersheds. So let’s all celebrate the Oak Park Continental Divide.

Something out of nothing: creativity and the Chicago fashion scene

Thu, 07 Feb 2013 05:00:00 -0600

Creativity is not a matter of place. And yet, when we talk about creative scenes in Chicago, we often talk about the ways in which the city lacks rather than what the city can provide. It is a common argument, one that is framed around the pursuit of music, of visual art, of writing. But this argument fails to acknowledge the ways in which limitations can govern our decisions. For the Chicago creator, it is a matter less about opportunities and more about the self. What can one create out of nothing? How far can one push one’s self without the support, the resources, or the market to color their frame of knowledge?

For young fashion designers in the city, this creates perhaps an even tougher challenge than one struggling in the art or music worlds. Chicago lacks the media resources, fabric sources, production factories, retail stores, and history that exists in a city like New York. But as in any creative pursuit, the disadvantages also provide a chance to experiment with one’s work and develop without set rules or paths in line.

“In New York, the industry is there, the track is in place,” said Liz Patelski, one of two designers behind the new Chicago-based label Remi Canarie. “To be able to be out of the NY scene, yet still be a part of it … it allows us to be in this creative bubble.” This creative bubble has proven successful in the development of the line which mixes the high construction of menswear with softer, more traditionally feminine fabrics and cuts.

Remi Canarie is more than just a passion project from two young and creative local designers. It is also a coastal challenge, one that asks whether or not the high-design of New York, London, or Paris, can be accomplished in a city that “works.” Although young at ages 24 and 25 respectively, Patelski and co-designer Lisa Panza create wares that are smart, sophisticated, and beautifully-constructed. The two met at the School of the Art Institute (SAIC) and credit the school for providing a support system that emphasizes the importance of design and gives students the freedom to pursue conceptual work. It is only in a city like Chicago where two young designers can eschew the typical path of a young designer (internships, assistant design positions) and instead make something of their own.

“In my mind, my end goal was to have my own line, so why not work toward that for the next two years?” asked Panza. Panza and Patelski did not create in a vacuum. Both are skilled designers with a background rich in awards and experience. During her time at SAIC, Panza won the Gladys V. Pick Scholarship, Nick Cave Award, The Walk Scholarship, and The Menswear Award for her talents.Patelski worked in New York City under CFDA/Vogue Fashion Fund finalist, Cushnie et Ochs, as a patterning and production intern. A Park Ridge-native, she transferred to SAIC and upon graduation in May 2011, she won the Eunice W. Johnson fellowship from the president of Johnsons Publishing Company, Linda Johnson Rice. The $25,000 fellowship, the source of funding for the duo's label, was created in 2010 in honor of Rice's mother and Ebony Fashion Fair founder Eunice W. Johnson.

The fellowship, while providing a strong leg up in their production process, does not draw away from the work put into the overall process. The two hit the ground running with their designs in October of 2012 and spent the prior year learning the business of owning and operating their own company. This involved everything from creating their own on-the-fly logo and attending Chicago Fashion Week panels for guidance on how to succeed in a city that does not cater to their field.

In many ways, Remi Canarie is a Chicago brand. This is not just a statement of location. It is also one of history and inspiration. Patelski and Panza’s influences, although seemingly disconnected, are rooted similarly in ideas of the past, Americana, and the perception of place.

“American roots is who we are," Panza began. "We’re asking what does it mean to be an American designer?” Patelski agreed. “What is it about Chicago? It’s the city of big shoulders, and so we moved towards menswear, workwear, uniforms. That is Chicago.”

A major influence for the duo is the birth of American football. Long hours were spent in the Chicago History Museum researching football players from suburban Oak Park. Found images were used as part of their lookbook to help construct the identity of the line and also as a direct aesthetic influence on the finished pieces. A long-sleeved off-white and gray sweater and a loose silk blouse both feature thick strips of fabric that run down the front, a replica of the leather strips used on early uniforms for traction.

In addition to the traditional imagery of football, the two also found inspiration in the costumes of the Rolling Stones. Besides sporting recreations of American football uniforms, the two found inspiration in the creation of the band’s sound as a whole. The Rolling Stones were, in many ways, a reflection of the music they discovered from America. They created songs that were in response to and challenge of what they had heard. In a similar vein, Remi Canarie is a reflection of the difficulties, history, and ethic of Chicago. This is design as a reflection of the city in which they live and work.

Their name extends this idea to a literal end. Although “Remi” derives from a Kerouac character, “Canarie” is born out of Canaryville, one of Chicago’s oldest and most identifiable (if not insular) neighborhoods. But its insularity is also a reflection of a city – this city – of neighborhoods. It is about identity, roots, and the way place can define the things we want and do. To make it in Chicago is to make it everywhere. It is not so much about the successes that the city provides as it is the way the city alters the perception of what one can possibly do. “Being in Chicago, there’s not as much pressure to follow the same pursuits,” Patelski said. “We’re taking the opportunity here to define ourselves.”

Follow Britt on twitter @britticisms.

Alderman accuses bank of ‘redlining’

Tue, 16 Oct 2012 05:51:00 -0500

An alderman on Chicago’s struggling West Side is steamed about a plan by Minneapolis-based U.S. Bancorp to close a full-service branch in her neighborhood.

Ald. Emma Mitts (37th Ward) said the company’s decision to shut down its U.S. Bank outlet at 4909 W. Division St. blindsided her. “They’re leaving high-and-dry with no warning,” she said, calling the process “disrespectful.”

The branch is an anchor of Austin, a mostly African-American neighborhood hit hard over the years by factory closings and, more recently, home foreclosures.

But Mitts said there is still plenty of banking business for company officials to keep the branch open. “The money is good but they don’t want to be in the neighborhood,” she said. “That’s redlining.”

U.S. Bancorp spokesman Tom Joyce bristled at the alderman’s accusation. “It’s off base and unfortunate,” he said.

“In 2011, we put more than $152 million into affordable housing and economic development in metropolitan Chicago,” Joyce said. “We’re a proud citizen of the Chicago area and the Austin neighborhood and we’ll continue to serve the neighborhood.”

When the branch closes November 16, Joyce added, the company will leave an ATM and start shuttling seniors from that part of Austin to nearby U.S. Bank locations two or three times a month.

The branch on the chopping block was once part of Park National Bank, a commercial chain owned by Oak Park-based FBOP Corp. The chain was known for charity and investment in low-income areas. U.S. Bancorp acquired FBOP holdings as part of a 2009 federal rescue.

Austin community groups fought the U.S. Bancorp takeover. In 2011, bowing to pressure from the groups, the company agreed to put hundreds of thousands of dollars into affordable-housing efforts in Austin and Maywood, a nearby suburb.

U.S. Bancorp says it has 88 branches and 1,600 workers in the Chicago area.

While in Chicago, Springsteen drummer honors Frank Lloyd Wright

Mon, 10 Sep 2012 12:00:00 -0500

A day before sitting behind the drumkit for two of Bruce Springsteen's sold-out concerts at Wrigley Field last weekend, E Street Band drummer Max Weinberg entertained a small audience at Oak Park's Unity Temple.

"Besides being my generation's biggest Beatles fan, I happen to be a true Frank Lloyd Wright nerd — I mean 'aficionado,'" Weinberg told a group of about 150 people assembled in the auditorium of the Wright-designed church at 875 Lake St. last Thursday.

Weinberg's lecture was part of the "Break the Box" series of distinguished speakers, sponsored by the Unity Temple Restoration Foundation.

The New Jersey native said he has been a devotee of the architect since childhood, when a relative allowed him to visit the Wright-designed Guggenheim Museum in New York while the modernist masterpiece was still under construction. As a teenager, he'd search out Prairie School architecture with his high school buddy and future film producer (and fellow Wright devotee), Joel Silver.

Weinberg said traveling with the E Street Band allowed him to visit Wright homes in buildings across the country. When the band came to Chicago in 1977 to play the Auditorium Theater, Weinberg said he arrived equipped with a map he annotated with the location of Wright buildings.

"Back in the 1970s when the E Street Band was starting out, my recreation was to seek out — some might say 'stalk' — owners with homes designed by Mr. Wright," he said. "I would knock on the door and introduce myself: 'My name is Max Weinberg and I'm with the E Street Band.' And I could tell by these folks, they'd never heard of the E Street Band."

Weinberg said he is active in the Wright preservation movement and talked about the need to restore Wright's famed Unity Temple, a blocky, 103-year-old structure that is among the first public buildings in the world made of exposed concrete. Though a functioning and nicely-maintained Unitarian church since it opened in 1909, the building has been damaged by water seepage, wear and time. In 2009, the National Trust for Historic Preservation named Unity Temple to its 11 Most Endangered Historic Places list.

During his talk, Weinberg also shared some good non-architecture stories, such as playing on Meat Loaf's landmark 1977 album Bat Out of Hell along with E Street keyboard man, "Professor" Roy Bittan. Weinberg said he played on three of the album's songs, including the title track and "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" — then was fired from the project by producer (and friend) Todd Rundgren.

"He didn't like my drumming," Weinberg said.

Oak Park couple buys Hemingway's boyhood home

Wed, 13 Jun 2012 09:34:00 -0500

The couple that purchased novelist Ernest Hemingway's boyhood home plans to live in and restore the historic house.

Kurt and Mary Jane Neumann closed on a $525,000 deal for the home in the Chicago suburb of Oak Park on Tuesday.

John Berry of the Ernest Hemmingway Foundation says the foundation bought the home in 2001 in hopes of turning it into a cultural center but couldn't make the finances work.

Kurt Neumann says his family plans to make their home available to visits by Hemingway enthusiasts. But he says they'll need to balance that with the fact that it will be their family home.

Ernest lived in the home until he graduated from high school and is believed to have written some of his earliest works in his third-floor bedroom.

Killing Pigeons Softly in Oak Park

Wed, 23 May 2012 13:32:00 -0500

Oak Park, the town — or, excuse me, village — I proudly call home, is known for a few things.

For starters, there’s Frank Lloyd Wright. People come from all around to take the “See the Homes that Frank Lloyd Wright Was a Jackass in” Tour.

Oak Park is also the boyhood home of Ernest Hemingway; if it weren’t for Oak Park schools teaching him the alphabet, he never would have written any books.

More importantly, the village has also long been known for being a warm and inclusive community.

Now that wonderful and well-deserved reputation is being threatened. Don’t get me wrong: People of all kinds are still welcome and encouraged to make Oak Park their home.

But . . . this week, the village board considered an ordinance that calls for KILLING — or, excuse me, euthanizing — pigeons.

It appears that there is, to quote the Wednesday Journal’s Anna Lothson, “a continuing presence of a flock of pigeons under the newly upgraded Marion Street el viaduct.”

Don’t these pigeons realize how perilously close they are to the finest wine and cheese shop the village has to offer?????

As someone who moved to Oak Park at least in part for the pigeons, this obviously has me enraged. Not enraged enough to have attended the village board meeting, but enraged.

To me, pigeons are one of the telltale signs of a great city. Name a great city and I’ll show you pigeons slightly ruining the quality of life.

Now, name a, well, not so world-class city. You won’t find any pigeons, I guarantee. When was the last pigeon that called Toledo (sorry, Mom and Dad) home? They’d only improve the quality of life, so what would be the point?

Some, like Oak Park trustee Bob Tucker, might wonder why Oak Park can’t just move the pigeons someplace else, like to Berwyn.

Again, to quote the Wednesday Journal, Mike Charley, environmental heath supervisor in the village, “said it’s proven pigeons return home.”

So, the answer is to just kill them? What’s next, Mr. Charley? Doing the same to our kids upon graduating college without jobs?

Instead of seeking to humanely remove as many pigeons via death, Oak Parkers should be thankful. Thankful that we don’t have kleptomaniacal monkeys roaming the streets, like they do in New Delhi.

This, according to The New York Times, mere hours after the Great Pigeon-Killing Ordinance meeting: “The monkey population of Delhi has grown so large and aggressive that overwhelmed city officials have petitioned India’s Supreme Court to relieve them of the task of monkey control.”

The Hindu religion, the article reports, says that people should feed monkeys on Tuesday and Saturdays.

“(Veterinary Services Director R.B.S.) Tyagi expresses impatience with residents who feed the monkeys one day, then complain to the city when the monkeys steal their clothes on another day.”

One solution in New Delhi is to hire a bigger kind of monkey to urinate around your home. The urine repels the smaller monkeys causing all the problems. The one drawback: The urine also repels people.

In any event, the official vote on whether to destroy pigeons is coming June 4. Write your congressman.

(The next Interview Show is Friday, June 1, at The Hideout, from 6:30 p.m. to 8 p.m. Guests include chef Michael Kornick and author Rich Cohen.)

Sam Giancana's house: The historic home Oak Park would like to forget

Fri, 09 Mar 2012 13:15:00 -0600

Oak Park has three historic districts and dozens of historic buildings. There is no official recognition of the bungalow on the northwest corner of Wenonah and Fillmore. This is where Sam Giancana lived--and where he was murdered.

He was born Salvatore Giangana in the Taylor Street Italian settlement in 1908. After apprenticing in a teen gang he graduated to the Capone mob. In 1933 he married, and moved into a three-flat at 2822 W. Lexington Street.

Giancana climbed the organizational ladder using talents that can best be left to the imagination. He served time for operating an illegal still. During World War II he was rejected for military service. The reason given was a "constitutional psychopathic state and inadequate personality, manifested in strong anti-social tendencies."

By now Giancana had three daughters. In April 1945 he purchased a bungalow at 1147 S. Wenonah Avenue in Oak Park for $32,000. That's about $400,000 in today's money--and he paid cash.

The Giancanas joined St. Bernardine parish in nearby Forest Park. Though Sam wasn't often seen at Mass, his daughter Antoinette remembered that he donated an altar rail to the church. That particular gift has since been removed.

Giancana lived quietly in Oak Park. He didn't bother his neighbors, and they certainly didn't bother him. He was devoted to his wife Angeline--but that didn't stop him from becoming involved with other women. Mrs. Giancana died in 1954, and Sam never remarried.

As the 1950s moved into the 1960s, Giancana became the public face of the Chicago Outfit. He was always in the news.

Did he steal the 1960 election for Kennedy? Was he part of a plot to kill Castro? Was he involved in the Kennedy assassination? And what ladies did he romance? There's plenty of literature out there about these matters.

In 1965 Giancana was jailed for refusing to testify before a grand jury. He moved to Mexico after his release, but kept the Oak Park house. In 1974 the feds brought him back home for further questioning.

Now Giancana was scheduled to appear before a Senate subcommittee. Before he could testify he was killed in his basement by multiple gunshots. The date was June 19, 1975. The crime remains unsolved.

A few years after the murder, I bought a house down the block on Wenonah. The only thing my neighbors said about Sam Giancana was that they missed the FBI men who used to keep his place under surveillance. Having them around 24/7 made the neighborhood feel safer.

1909 Chicago: The 'L' smoking war

Mon, 09 Jan 2012 13:15:00 -0600

The protesters were angry and vocal in the fall of 1909. Their target was one heartless Chicago capitalist named Clarence Knight. He was trying to end smoking on the 'L' trains.

Knight was president of the Chicago & Oak Park Elevated Railroad (today's Lake Street Green Line). His trains always ran at least one smoking car. So did Chicago's other privately-owned 'L' companies. Since about 80% of adult males smoked at least one cigar a day, this was understandable.

But few women smoked in 1909. In the middle of the day, when most of the passengers were female, the smoking cars were running empty and losing money. Knight knew that other cities banned smoking on transit vehicles. He announced that all his trains would go smokeless on November 1.

There was no trouble at first. The smokers simply went on smoking. A few conductors tried to enforce the new rule, but gave up in the face of the mass civil disobedience.

On November 5 the excrement hit the fan. That day "L" security guards removed two smokers from a train at the 44th Avenue (Kostner) station. Other passengers tried to stop the guards, and a near-riot ensued.

Three days later a grass-roots gathering of smokers held a protest rally in Oak Park. A crowd of over 500 people jammed a local hall and spilled into the street. A citizens' committee was organized to carry on the fight. They declared their purpose in populist rhetoric--"Neither Knight nor any other monopoly can deny the workingman his morning smoke."

The "Smoking War" became front-page news. All through November, newspapers detailed the actions of the pro-tobacco-choice forces, and the options they were weighing.

Some people wanted to stage a boycott. Others wanted to invite arrest, so a test case might be brought to court. One man suggested hiring "Halsted Street strong-arm boys" to counter the "L" security guards. Since Knight's company had failed to elevate its tracks in Oak Park, maybe his franchise should be revoked--unless, of course, he brought back the smoking cars.

George Plummer of the smokers finally challenged Knight to face him in the boxing ring, and settle things man-to-man. This development awakened the Chicago City Council. One of the aldermen proposed that the council sponsor the fight, and sell the movie rights. You like to think he was joking.

Clarence Knight would not be swayed. His "L" trains remained smokeless. Passengers eventually adjusted to the system, and the protests died out. But smoking continued on other "L" lines until the 1918 influenza epidemic.

Are Chicago's water rates fair? Suburb says no

Tue, 15 Nov 2011 06:00:00 -0600

A Chicago suburb is complaining about the price it'll soon have to pay the city for Lake Michigan water.

Chicago sells water to everyone at the same price: whether they're residents of a South Side bungalow, a skyscraper's landlord or a suburb. And with Mayor Rahm Emanuel pushing for water rates to double over the next four years, Oak Park Village Manager Tom Barwin is puzzled by the flat rate.

His village gets only water, Barwin said, while for the same price, Chicago residents get all the services that come with that water.

"The city provides no services to the suburban customers. They don't come out here and repair broken water mains," he said. "They don't read meters. They don't provide any of the overhead that suburban customers have to have to maintain their systems."

Oak Park has to tack on those costs to the price it charges its residents. Currently, Oak Park bills its water customers $4.85 per thousand gallons - more than double the $2.01 that Chicago charges.

Barwin sent Chicago Water Commissioner Tom Powers a letter, urging him to consider a staggered rate structure, and a longer phase-in period for the rate increase.

Several times in recent weeks Powers has publicly implied that the city's hands are tied, and can't give suburbs a discount even if it wanted to.

“Our suburban customers will participate in rate increases,” Powers said at a press conference alongside Emanuel on Oct. 14. “As a matter of fact, we are bound by law to charge the exact same rate to our customers - residential, commercial and suburban.”

Powers made a similar claim referencing "case law" during a city council budget hearing a week later, and "prior litigation" in an information packet distributed to suburbs that get water from Chicago.

It turns out not to be true. State law forbids Chicago from charging suburbs more than it charges city residents, but there's nothing in the law preventing Chicago from charging the suburbs less.

A water department spokesman, Tom LaPorte, acknowledged Powers misspoke.

"What Tom should have said is that the City of Chicago has been upheld in its practice of charging a uniform rate for all categories of metered customers," LaPorte said in an email, referring to a past lawsuit filed against Chicago by dozens of suburbs.

"Ours is a giant, complicated system, and there is no way to separate the pipes, pumping stations or other infrastructure components that serve local areas," LaPorte added.

Chicago aldermen are expected to approve the water fee increase on Wednesday, and are unlikely to have any sympathy for the more than 100 suburbs, including Oak Park, that get water via Chicago.