WBEZ | Northwest Side

Four corners, four gas stations

Fri, 17 May 2013 05:00:00 -0500

I grew up near a landmark intersection, though I didn’t realize it at the time.

The year is 1961. Montrose Avenue, meet Austin Avenue. 4400 north, 6000 west.

Four corners. Four gas stations. What better monument to the American car culture of the mid-20^th Century?

The Standard station on the northwest corner came first. Then, going clockwise around the intersection, there was Texaco, Mobil, and Pure. I’m not sure in what order these other stations were built.

(There was actually a fifth gas station a few hundred feet east of the intersection. A tiny Sinclair station stood on the southeast corner of Montrose and Mason. Grandpa Price said it had been there since the 1920s. By 1965 it was gone.)

Next to the Mobil station there was a vacant lot where we played baseball. Like most Chicagoans, we called it "the prairie." Other than that, I had no connection to the four gas stations on the four corners, and no stories to tell about them. They were simply part of the neighborhood.

During the 1970s, with gas prices rising, four stations became redundant. The Texaco was the first to go, converted into an auto clinic. The Standard became a bank branch. The Pure was an Arco for a while, and then a fast-food drive-thru. Today there’s only one gas station at Montrose and Austin.

Chicago had a few places where three gas stations crowded the four-corner intersections. Montrose-Austin was the only place in the city where I ever saw four stations on all four corners, though I suspect this might have happened in the suburbs.

Were there any other four-corner intersections within the city limits that had four gas stations at one time? I'd be interested in learning where they were.

There in Chicago (#21)

Wed, 27 Mar 2013 05:00:00 -0500

How well did you find your way around the Chicago of the past?

We are just north of Logan Square, where Milwaukee Avenue meets both Logan Boulevard and Kedzie Avenue. The distinctive streetlight on the left was characteristic of streets under the jurisdiction of the Chicago Park District. The #17 on the streetcars signify they are on the Kedzie line, which operated over this portion of Milwaukee Avenue.

Also in the 1934 photo, note the large advertising signs on the building roofs. The signs were set high so they could be seen from 'L' trains at the Logan Square terminal, just south of here.

Where in Chicago? (#21)

Tue, 26 Mar 2013 05:00:00 -0500

How well could you find your way around the Chicago of the past?

The photo is from the Northwest Side of the city--which I'll define as somewhere west of the river and north of North Avenue. Though some of the buildings are gone, others remain. There are also clues to help you identify the site.

If you think you know the location, send in your guess as a Comment. I'll post a contemporary photo tomorrow.

Norwood Park, past and present

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

Norwood Park, Community Area 10, is one of Chicago’s railroad communities. The original settlement was planned around the Chicago & North Western commuter line. But that’s not the beginning of our story.

In 1833 Mark Noble filed claim to 150 acres of land in the area. He built a frame house on a glacial ridge and lived the life of a gentleman farmer. Today his home, at 5634 North Newark Avenue, is the oldest building in Chicago.

Other farmers followed Noble. Then in 1868, a group of Chicago investors purchased 860 acres near the railroad for real estate development. Taking their name from a popular novel, they called their community Norwood Park. A town hall and shops were built across from the C&NW station.

The new town featured wide lots with expansive front lawns. Instead of following the rigid Chicago grid, the streets were pleasantly curved–one of them even formed a circle. Three small parks were laid out and hundreds of shade trees planted.

To promote development, frequent ads were run in the Chicago newspapers. It’s worth quoting one of them–

"Only 11 miles from the Court House on the Chicago & North Western, 30 minutes ride. Eighty feet above the lake on beautiful, rolling ground, perfect drainage. No malaria, no saloons, no nuisances of any kind. Good society, churches, graded schools, stores.”

New settlers arrived. They built large Victorian homes on the high ground near the ridge. As Norwood Park grew, the residents saw the need for city services. In 1893 they voted to become part of Chicago. Today the historic heart of the original town is called Old Norwood.

The eastern part of the community was not developed until after annexation. Though closer to the city, the land here was marsh. New sewers solved that problem, and bungalows began going up.

By 1930 Norwood Park was home to 14,000 people. A local shopping district had evolved near Northwest Highway and Raven, and a string of small factories lined the railroad. Then came the Depression and World War II. Building stopped, with large areas to the south and west still prairie.

Development resumed after the war ended. Now the families of the Baby Boom were buying cars and looking for ranch homes. The outer portions of Norwood Park–Big Oaks, Union Ridge, Oriole Park–were filling up. The population reached 27,000 in 1950, and 41,000 ten years later.

Still, it took a while to tie Norwood Park to the city. The railroad was fast, but expensive. Most residents who wanted to get downtown faced a long, slow journey, driving on surface streets or riding the Milwaukee Avenue streetcar.

The Northwest (Kennedy) Expressway was completed in 1960. The community now had convenient auto access to other areas, though traffic grows heavier each year. The O’Hare branch of the CTA Blue Line has been an alternative since 1983.

Drawing a map of Community Area 10 should not be attempted by amateurs. That’s because the boundaries are so complicated. Politics is the reason, of course.

During the 1950s Chicago wanted to establish a land connection to the new O’Hare Airport, and began claiming large swaths of territory. The boundaries of Community Area 10 were stretched west to Cumberland Avenue. But in the middle of all this Chicago land, there are several blocks that refused to join the city, and remain unincorporated. They are known as Norwood Park Township.

Today the Chicago community of Norwood Park is a stable, middle-class area. The population of 37,000 is largely White European American. About 12% identify as Hispanic. Local landmarks include the Noble home, Superdawg Drive-in, and Taft High School, inspiration for the musical Grease.

Chicago's Rosemont Corridor

Mon, 04 Feb 2013 07:15:00 -0600

You can find a little bit of Chicago in the strangest places.

In 1945 the federal government transferred 1,080 acres of land near Mannheim and Higgins to the City of Chicago. The site was to be used for a new commercial airfield, the future O’Hare.

Though Chicago held title to the airport land, the site itself was a few miles beyond the city limits. That fact might cause legal complications--could the Chicago police even issue parking tickets? Early in 1956, the city council opened hearings on annexing unincorporated land between the city and the airport.

Part of the plan was to annex forest preserve acreage along the Des Plaines River. The Cook County Board was controlled by Chicago Democrats, so that would be easily done.

At the same time, the city was going to annex a 66-foot-wide strip of Higgins Road. This narrow corridor would stretch from the existing Chicago border (Canfield Avenue) to the airport land (Mannheim Road). Chicago would then have a physical link with O’Hare.

Meanwhile, out on the prairie, the homesteaders in Park Ridge and Des Plaines were alarmed. Those city slickers were invading their territory. What would happen to their peaceful country lives?

Now both Park Ridge and Des Plaines began their own annexations, trying to block Chicago’s land grab. The newly-incorporated village of Rosemont followed suit. To help things along, Leyden Township officials volunteered to co-ordinate the new suburban borders.

Mayor Richard J. Daley of Chicago wasn’t about to let a few little hamlets interfere with the greater good of his city. Daley met behind closed doors with officials from the rebellious suburbs on March 28^th. When the meeting ended, the mayor announced that the matter was settled, and the Chicago annexation would go forward.

By virtue of that strip along Higgins—which was only 33-feet wide in some places—O’Hare was now connected to the City of Chicago. But the solution was only temporary. In 1959, in a different case, the Illinois Supreme Court questioned the legality of such “shoestring” annexations.

Daley didn’t wait for the court to take up the Higgins annexation. He reached a deal with Rosemont to swop the Higgins strip for a 185-foot wide strip along Foster Avenue, on Rosemont’s southern border. Now the matter really was settled.

Today there’s nothing to identify the little corridor along Foster as part of Chicago, except for a few city street lights. The old suburban street signs are still in place. And in a final bit of irony, the Rosemont land to the north has undergone massive redevelopment, while the Chicago land is occupied by single-story industrial buildings.

Lost landmark: The Buffalo

Wed, 14 Nov 2012 05:00:00 -0600

When I was young, I went to a Catholic grade school. And like all good Catholic kids in the 1950s, I gave up something for Lent — usually ice cream.

Then Easter would finally come. Lent was over. To celebrate, my parents would take me to The Buffalo.

The Buffalo Ice Cream Parlor was located at 4000 West Irving Park Road (or 4000 North Pulaski Road — the address happened to work out that way). The place had leaded glass windows, dark walnut booths, a marble soda counter and murals with dancing cherubs. It smelled of sweet chocolate. As background noise, there was the comforting whirr of 20 malted milk mixers.

The awning over the main entrance said “Established 1902.” Actually, the 1902 date was when The Buffalo was founded at its original location, Division and Sedgwick. The business had moved to Irving Park in 1918.

After six weeks of ice cream withdrawal, a frozen turnip might have satisfied my ten-year-old palate. But I knew that The Buffalo’s home-made product was something special, since my dad and I would sometimes stop in for a quick one before going to the Commodore Theater across the street. I loved The Buffalo, and so did most of the Northwest Side.

Then, in the spring of 1973, the papers reported that The Buffalo was going to close. The land had been sold and a Shell gas station would replace the ice cream parlor.

The Buffalo’s fans would not accept that death sentence. They made signs and picketed. They sent letters to the editor. When the city council held a hearing about rezoning for the gas station, 300 protesters showed up. Mike Royko wrote a column about the dastardly turn of events.

Three days before the April 30^th closing date, the local alderman announced a reprieve: The Buffalo had been granted a temporary six-month lease.

That was just long enough. By the fall the first Arab oil embargo was in effect. Who needed another gas station? The Buffalo got a new five-year lease.

Five years later, when that lease ended, The Buffalo closed for good, and the building was torn down. Ultimately a Shell gas station did go up on the site.

There was some controversy over what had happened. One rumor said that The Buffalo’s owner was happy to move out, but didn’t want to rile the public. A new ice cream parlor calling itself The Buffalo operated for a while in Morton Grove. I went there once, but it wasn’t the same.

The Shell station is still in business at Irving Park and Pulaski. I’ve even bought gas there from time to time. Though life isn’t always fair, we move on.

Albany Park, past and present

Mon, 22 Oct 2012 05:00:00 -0500

Take a ride out to the far end of the Brown Line. You pass Western Avenue, cross the river, and now the train is running on the ground, in an alley behind two-flats and large apartment buildings. You’re in Community Area #14, Albany Park.

The first permanent settlers arrived here in the 1840s. They were mostly German and Swedish farmers. William Spikings was among them. He built a brick farm house with his own hands and lived in it for over 70 years, watching the city grow out to him.

These early settlements were part of the Town of Jefferson. After Chicago annexed the town in 1889, the developers moved in. One of them called his subdivision Albany Park, after his native city in New York state. The name stuck.

Electric streetcars ran on Lawrence Avenue as early as 1896. The real breakthrough came with the arrival of the "L" line — then known as the Ravenswood branch — in 1907. And now Albany Park took off.

The "L" terminal was located at Kimball and Lawrence. Soon the surrounding blocks were filled in with massive apartment buildings — only the lakefront had a denser concentration of dwelling units. Lawrence Avenue became a ribbon commercial street. Stores also sprouted up along Kedzie and Montrose.

Away from the terminal, the apartments thinned out. East of Kedzie, where the river turned, a charming bungalow enclave called Ravenswood Manor developed. The section west of Crawford (Pulaski) also became a bungalow belt. This area was part of an older settlement known as Mayfair.

Raw numbers tell some of the story. The 1910 Census counted about 7,000 people living in Albany Park. Ten years later the figure had grown to 27,000. Another ten years, and the population was over 55,000.

Haugan School was expanded several times until it stretched over an entire city block, becoming Chicago’s largest elementary school. Roosevelt High School grew so crowded that the nearby Von Steuben School was converted into another high school. The city widened Kimball Avenue, and the street got its own bus line.

Most of the new people were Eastern European Jews. They came from West Town, Lawndale and the Maxwell Street area. With temples, schools, community centers, theaters, and all manner of businesses, Albany Park became the center of Jewish life in Chicago.

The community remained stable into the 1960s. But the city was evolving, movement to the suburbs accelerating. More people were driving cars, and didn’t depend on public transit. If you didn’t need the "L", why bother to live in a congested area of apartment hulks?

By the 1970s Albany Park was in trouble. Much of the Jewish population had dispersed. Crime rose, property values fell, storefronts became vacant. The neighborhood was on its way to becoming a slum.

New vigor came in with a new wave of immigrants from Eastern Europe, Asia and Spanish-speaking countries. The population decline was halted. Albany Park became one of the city’s most ethnically-diverse communities.

The 2010 census reported that 52,000 people were living in the Albany Park. About half of the population was Hispanic. Non-Hispanic Whites numbered 29 percent, and Asians — mostly Koreans — were 14 percent. African-Americans were counted at 4 percent.

So this is the Oz you'll find at the end of the Brown Line. Through all the changes, Albany Park has endured. You can’t really call it a typical Chicago community — a “representative” community might be a better way to put it. Some of it is pretty, some of it is gritty. But Albany Park is never boring.

What ever happened to Pueblo Avenue?

Mon, 24 Sep 2012 05:00:00 -0500

Sometimes the best-laid work of city planners goes to waste. Take the case of the street at 8400-west.

This street was originally called 84^th Avenue, the name it still carries in the southern suburbs. In the 1920s Chicago annexed the portion of the Dunning community west of Harlem Avenue. Along with it came about one mile’s worth of 84^th Avenue.

The area was mostly truck farms then. But as land was subdivided, the city extended the Brennan street-name system into Dunning. From 7200-west to 8000-west, the north-south streets got names beginning with the letter “O.” Next came the streets beginning with the letter “P.” In this way, the Chicago portion of 84^th Avenue became Pueblo Avenue.

For some reason, Pueblo Avenue never caught on. Part of the problem was the nearby suburbs. In Maywood, 84^th Avenue had been renamed First Avenue. River Grove called the street Thatcher Road. Just north of the Chicago section, and into Park Ridge and Niles, it was Cumberland Avenue.

I grew up a few miles to the east. My friends and I always referred to the street as Cumberland. I never knew anyone who actually lived on the street, but I did date a girl whose house was a block away. She called it Cumberland, too.

Even the CTA—a government agency—had misgivings about the street’s name. The westbound destination signs on the #152 buses read “Addison-Pueblo.” A half-mile south, the signs on the #77 buses read “Belmont-Cumberland.” I don’t remember what the Irving Park bus signs read. Perhaps they alternated between the two names.

In 1973 Chicago began replacing its yellow street signs with the green ones we have today. When the crews got to 8400-west, they took down the yellow "Pueblo" signs. The green signs that went up said "Cumberland."

I imagine there had to be some official city action changing Pueblo to Cumberland. If there was, I missed it. And if there’s anyone who wants to go back to the Pueblo name, I’d like to hear from you.

Or maybe the city still hasn't made up its mind what to call the street at 8400-west. At the intersection with Montrose Avenue, there are signs that announce both names.

There in Chicago (#13)

Fri, 21 Sep 2012 05:00:00 -0500

How well did you find your way around 1948 Chicago?

One block to the east, at Keeler, a railroad viaduct still crosses Irving Park. But that viaduct has been replaced, and the Chicago & North Western has also been been replaced, by the Union Pacific and Metra. Beyond the railroad, an elevated viaduct carrying the Kennedy Expressway has also been constructed.

The clues are the wide street and the dual overhead wires for trolley busses, which will soon replace streetcars on Irving Park.

Where in Chicago? (#13)

Thu, 20 Sep 2012 05:00:00 -0500

How well could you find your way around the Chicago of the past?

This 1948 photo is from the Northwest Side — north of North Avenue and west of the Chicago River. Many of the buildings are still around. There are also some other visible clues to the site.

If you think you know the location, send in your guess as a comment. I'll post a contemporary photo Friday.