Combining Styles, #2 - 6741 N. Clark and 2125 W. Devon

Last year I wrote about some buildings which expanded their first floors into adjacent lots, resulting in a facade reflecting two different eras of development and design.  You can read that post here.    But what kind of expansion happens when a developed street changes from residential to commercial?  Every now and again it results in a front yard addition, creating an odd hybrid building.

6741-6743 N. Clark

This one is near the intersection of Clark and Pratt in Rogers Park.  Behind it you can see the c.1905 frame house. Before 1927 this home had a generous, green front yard (I'm assuming it was green).  Clark Street was changing, and the area was no longer as idyllic as it had been 20 years previous.  But there was still value in the home as well as potential to take advantage of the commercial character of the street.   So the owners extended it forward into a simple 1-story brick and stone commercial structure.  The storefronts have been infilled with vertical siding and the windows reduced to be practically non-existent, but there it remains. 

2125 W. Devon

In West Ridge there's a more jolting combination on Devon near Hamilton.  The assessor dates the rear structure  as 1896, which seems correct to me.  At that time it would have been surrounded by greenhouses to the south, east and west.  It's unusual to see a flat-roofed frame building with classical ornament.  In fact, it's the only one that I know of in the area.  It's been covered with brick-patterned asphalt siding, which makes me wonder if there's more detail hidden beneath it.

The commercial extension is concrete block, which I date to the 1980s.  The preservationist  in me recognizes this as an era when extreme disinterest in the public realm combined with a desire to make money quickly, leaving Chicago with many similar "improvements".   But the other part of me takes a deep breath and recognizes that both buildings provide useful information about the changing character of the area and the shifting values of the residents.

Frame Houses at 1926-1938 W. Touhy, 1907

A few months ago I wrote about some nearly identical frame homes on Chase.  In that entry I remarked that once you noticed these "runs" of homes you would start to see them everywhere.  At the time I didn't know how true that was.  Within a week, I'd spotted five groupings within three blocks of each other.

These small-scale developments represent a point in Rogers Park history after the 1893 annexation to Chicago but prior to the multifamily development of the 1920s.  This was a period when architects often took a back seat to local builders when it came to developing affordable single family homes.  Since architects were more focused on commercial projects and more prestigious commissions, an entire industry developed that offered pre-designed homes with no architect required.  Some, like Sears, sold kits including all wood, hardware, and fixtures.  Others sold permit-ready architectural plans, like this Radford American Homes catalog from 1903.

These five frame homes were permitted in 1907. They all have double-pitched hipped roofs, two-story projecting bays, and (originally) a full-width front porch on the first floor  Over the years they've been modified in all the ways you might expect- artificial siding, rear additions, and porch alterations.  I chose the middle image at 1938 W. Touhy as the most unaltered example.  These five homes were each built on 30' x 160' lots, which are somewhat larger than a standard 25'x 100' Chicago lot.  At the time Rogers Park had more of a suburban character.  But in 1907 "suburban character" still meant narrow side yards and a detached garage with alley access.

According to a rule of thumb proposed by Stewart Brand in "How Buildings Learn" you can expect homes to go through major renovations about every 20 years and to update their interiors and mechanical systems every 7 to 15 years.  If the construction of the home makes it difficult to update these mechanical systems, it's likely that the home will be demolished.  By 1907 the struggle between gas and electricity in Chicago was largely over.  Electricity had become the standard for lighting and appliances while gas remained in place for cooking and heating.  So these five frame homes already had an advantage over others that were constructed just a few years earlier.  I would estimate that 80 percent of the remaining single family homes in this area (between Touhy, Clark, Pratt and Ridge) were constructed between 1900 and 1910.

To be continued with some nearby homes on Estes...

6801 N. Sheridan- Rogers Park Hotel, 1922

  I've always been interested in the apartment hotel phenomenon in Chicago.  Two years ago I wrote about the Stanleigh Apartment Hotel built in 1917 at the northwest corner of Pratt and Sheridan.  But a much more ambitious version, the Rogers Park Hotel, can be found at the northeast corner of the same intersection. 

Apartment hotels came with furnishings and maid service, so all you really needed was a suitcase.  Often there were shared dining or entertainment facilities.  Some may have lived in them year-round, but they were designed to appeal to short-term renters, such as vacationers.

It's hard to imagine Rogers Park as a vacation destination, but Sheridan Road had a different character at that time.  It was less developed, with more green space and primarily single family homes. But it already had good transit connections to downtown, popular beaches, and some bustling commercial areas.   In 1922 this building would have signalled a shift in the scale of development.  This change was acknolwledged in the Chicago Zoning Code of 1923, which earmarked the areas adjacent to Lake Michigan for greater density. And luckily, it was featured in the July 10, 1922 edition of Buildings and Buildings Management, which is available through GoogleBooks.

To the left is the ground floor, showing the retail spaces, and a typical floor of apartments.  There were 21 apartments per floor on eight floors, totaling 168.  The four sizes of apartments ranged from 600 to 280 square feet.  These had bed closets, which would have contained a Murphy-style bed.

The article makes special  mention of the wall-to-wall carpeting in the corridors and in the units, which would have been imporant for a concrete frame building built on a budget.  Although air conditioning wasn't provided, there was a "cooling coil" for water and food, which I take to be an early form of refrigerator.

The architects for this project were B. Leo Steif & Co. in association with Walter W. Ahlschlager, Inc.  The article proudly notes the absence of useless decoration, which is offset by the use of high quality materials, such as the light buff brick and Bedford stone.  The building nods to classical design, with stone string courses, balconies and architraves at the eighth and ninth floors.  If you look on the Sheridan side at the center of the building there's a larger classical surround with a decorative medallion above which prominently features "RP". 

And with that I'll leave you with some interior photos, showing the original character of the building, although with fairly poor resolution.

Frame homes at Chase and Wolcott, 1905

Home with a sick 2-year old today, so maybe I can finally finish this entry while he naps.

There are thirteen frame houses on the south side of Chase, west of Wolcott in Rogers Park.  They're not remarkable but they're obviously related, with identical setbacks, massing and materials.  Some of them have been altered over time but you can't hide the family resemblance.

Early neighborhood developers often added value to their offering by modifying a basic design.   This would give the impression of variety while still taking advantage of the economy of scale.  They would vary the materials, the window styles or the roof shapes.  In this case the builder was working with three models, each with an identical layout but a different roof configuration.  These include a hipped roof modified with a deck (A), a standard hipped roof (B), and a hipped roof with the ridge extended forward to create a gable (C).  I wouldn't be surprised to find that the floor area of each house is essentially identical.

Developing the block with these homes is like putting together a kit. In this case the pattern is A-B-A-B, then switching to C-A-B-C-A-B.  Once sensitized to these types of development patterns you begin to notice them everywhere. 

The building at the corner of Wolcott and Chase was the first, and received a permit in the spring of 1905.  Perhaps this functioned as the model home for the development.  The remaining homes were permitted a couple of months later.

 And 108 years later here's the result.  One  of these homes was demolished for an apartment building in the 1920s,  but those that remain maintain the feel of a solid neighborhood block.

Developers are sometimes criticized for being motivated by profit and for not taking into account the impact of their projects on the surrounding area.  It's easy to forget that most of Chicago was built by developers.  They certainly made a profit, but they're also responsible for the look and feel of basically every neighborhood in the city.

Building permits for these homes were found in the Ancient Building Permit files of Chicago.  And no, it wasn't easy.  I hate microfilm.  The block plan was developed from the 1937 Sanborn Fire Insurance Maps and online aerial photos from Google.  The streetscape image is developed from reference photos, drawn with Micron pens, and shaded with cool grey Prismacolor markers.  OK, too much information.

Carl and Pearl Peterson at 1905 W. Chase, c.1905. 
Carl not looking too excited about their new house. Is that his mother?
From the RPWRHS Collection (P001-30299)

Townhouses at Greenleaf and Oakley, 1968

Not long ago I came across a 1968 Chicago Tribune article about a West Ridge development coming on the market.  It included double houses, courtyard buildings, and townhouses on the north and south sides of Greenleaf, between Oakley and Western.  All of them duplexed, with small private rear yards in addition to communal front yards or interior courts.  All have accomodations for parking, ranging from garages with direct street access to parking spaces along the alleys.   Their design and detailing is consistent, but they have a variety of form you don't often see in multi-building developments.

I  think of 1968 as a turning point in Chicago history.  In one year you have the race riots following the assassination of Martin Luthur King, Jr. and the disastrous Democratic National Convention.    This signaled a period of public and private disinvestment in the city which continued for decades.  It was also the year my parents, lifelong Chicagoans, left for Columbus, Ohio.   So clearly things were pretty bad.  So what kind of housing might still attract city residents in 1968?

Looking southwest from the corner of Greenleaf and Oakley.

 A weird version of French Provincial!   With mansard roofs and arched dormers!  The buildings are an odd blend of traditional and modernistic elements.  According to the article there are three and four bedroom units in two-story or tri-level designs.  The model unit had a family room with a 16 foot high ceiling merging with the breakfast room.  They featured central air, wall-to-wall carpeting, and plastic laminated counter tops.  I wonder if they've changed much in the past 45 years.

So to summarize, large informal living space, tiny private outdoor areas, accomodation for parking, and weird semi-traditional architectural styling. Not sure this really tells me much about 1968.  In other parts of the city they were building walls topped with broken glass, so maybe West Ridge wasn't doing too badly.

A.C. Nielsen Co. Headquarters, 2101 W. Howard

Each time I've gone by this building I knew it was too interesting to be just another Public Storage warehouse.  And sure enough, it has a history that's a bit more impressive.  In 1935 the oldest portion of this building was constructed as the headquarters of the A.C. Nielsen Company.

Arthur C. Nielsen started his career as an electrical engineer in 1919.  After 3 years with a publisher of business magazines he founded the A.C. Nielsen Company in 1923, where he brought scientific analysis to market research.  This involved test marketing of new products, measuring product sales using random samples, and various statistical sampling, especially in the food, drug and liquor industry.  But perhaps the company is best know for developing their radio, and later television, rating system.  I probably don't have to mention that this made his company phenomenally successful. 

The building was designed in the Georgian Revival style by architect Lewis B. Walton of the Benjamin H. Marshall Company.  Benjamin Marshall is better known as half of the firm Marshall and Fox, which were responsible for the design of many prominent revival-style Chicago buildings, including the Blackstone Hotel, the Drake Hotel, and the Edgewater Beach Apartments.  Fox died in 1926 but Marshall continued his practice until 1935.  When he retired the firm became Walton and Kegley.


Photos from the collection of the RP/WR Historical Soc.

The original 2-story portion of this building was constructed in 1935 for $60,000.  Built of reinforced concrete and faced with colonial brick and Bedford stone, it was also air-conditioned.  In 1937 two more stories and a penthouse were added.  In 1939 the size of the building was more than doubled with an additional wing on the west.  At this point it accomodated 600 employees. The cafeteria and recreational rooms were located on the fifth floor penthouse.   Later rear additions on the south were added between 1953 and 1958.  The Nielsen Company remained in this building until 1972, when they moved their main offices to Northbrook and later to Schaumburg.

Over years the building has retained much of its architectural integrity, although the original colonial-style windows have been replaced with modern aluminum windows.  And, thankfully, Public Storage hasn't yet chosen to paint it in their signature colors of purple and orange.  But its real importance is its historical association with one of the first, and arguably most important, firms responsible for establishing and refining the scientific marketing industry.  To know that its most important period of development occurred on a remote corner of Rogers Park is unexpected.

Information for this entry was gathered from Sanborn Fire Insurance Maps, articles from the online Chicago Tribune Historical Archive, the Rogers Park/West Ridge online History Wiki, and the Ancient Building Permits of the City of Chicago (on microfilm).  The date of construction for the buildings are taken from the permit file, and actual completion was somewhat later.  Special thanks to the Rogers Park/West Ridge Historical Society for sharing their photos of the building, which were donated by Arthur Nielsen Jr.

Summer Cottages in Conneaut, OH

Once again I'm back in Ashtabula County, where my wife grew up.  One of the most interesting things about this area are the lakefront cottages constructed between 1910 and 1930.  Often you'll find these tiny houses grouped around informal streets or dirt lanes.  I'm guessing none of them have more than a couple rooms.  Many  look like they were ordered as a kit, or were prefabricated and lowered on to a foundation.  Basically these are summer campsites with buildings replacing the tents.  

Concrete block summer cottages in Conneaut, OH

As American leisure time began to increase in the 20th century new recreational options were developed. 
The wealthy could visit oceanside resorts or travel (or maybe buy horses?), but middle and working class families had fewer established vacation choices, especially in rural areas.  But what could be more attractive in northern Ohio than the cool shores of Lake Erie?   As demand increased more of these permanent camps were constructed.  Some attracted commercial development, resulting in roadside strips of restautants, stores, and miniature golf.  But how did these begin, and how did they develop over time?  How did these families spend their time, and how long did they stay? And how did these areas relate to the nearby traditional communities? If books or articles have been written about this I haven't yet found them.

Some are still used as seasonal rentals and some have been converted into affordable year-round residences.  Many appear abandoned.  These buildings are my new Ashtabula project, so if anyone has any leads to follow-up on our next Ohio trip please drop me a line.

Rogers Park Telephone Exchange, 1622 W. Pratt

The first telephone exchange in Rogers Park was established in 1903 in a rented space at the northwest corner of Lunt and Clark (now an immigration attorney's office).  Soon increasing demand and specialized equipment required a purpose-built structure. The Chicago Telephone Company contracted with the architecture firm of Holabird and Roche, which had already designed their buildings downtown and many smaller neighborhood exchanges.  Good examples of these remain throughout Chicago.

New technology has a tendency to make people uncomfortable.  One way to offset this discomfort is to create a traditional image to reassure the public.  Holabird and Roche was masterful at creating sturdy classical designs.  The Rogers Park Exchange is a simplified version of the Georgian Revival style.  And what could be less intimating than Georgian Revival? 

The building itself is reinforced concrete construction with Colonial brick and white Bedford stone trim.  Originally the entrance vestibule was pink Tennessee marble, but I haven't yet peered inside to find out if it's still there.  Note the addition of a fourth floor, along with substantial rear additions.  This was a part of the original design intent, and the foundation was built to accommodate another floor as needed.  The stone cornice was rebuilt, but it looks like it lost some detail in the process.


Adapted from a Google Aerial Photo

The L-shaped area emphasized in red is the original footprint of the building.  The area in blue was added in 1940.  The fire insurance maps are a bit vague on when the original portion received the additional floor, but judging from historic aerial photos it probably also happened in 1940.  In 1960 an additional floor was added to the blue portion, raising it from two stories to three.

The work force consisted of three supervisors, one clerk, one matron, and forty-nine operators.  Yes, that's right.  Matron.  And both day and night chief operators were women.  And those forty-nine operators?   Probably  young women.  At the turn of the century switchboard operator joined teacher and nurse as an acceptable occupation for middle-class women.  But there was an ongoing discomfort about the thought of professional young women working and living in the big city on their own.  The fear was that it would be too easy for these women to stray into... well... prostitution and drugs?  Several organizations opened boarding houses for working women, where they could enjoy communal activities and close supervision.  It's telling that the president of the Rogers Park Women's Club, Mrs. E.A. King, was in attendance for the opening ceremony. 

Read about the exciting 1914 ribbon-cutting ceremony here.

And I can't recommend enough Robert Bruegmann's book about Holabird and Roche, "The Architects and the City."

Also, read Jeanne Catherine Lawrence's, "Chicago's Eleanor Clubs: Housing Working Women in the Early Twentieth Century."

And just for fun, read "Wicked Nell:  A Gay Girl of the Town." (1878)

Devon Streetscape (1536-1556 W. Devon)

Below is another graphic developed for the storefront exhibit planned for installation at Clark Devon Hardware.  An interesting block, even with some odd changes over the years.  The third building from the right suffered a couple of big fires in the 1940s and had a architectural slipcover installed on the facade.  I'd give a lot to know if the original details are still under there.

Horizontally oriented images never lend themselves to the vertical blog format. I've been trying to find a viewer which allows an image to scroll past, but everything I find takes a bit more expertise than I'm willing to develop.

The above drawing was developed by stringing together a series of digital images in Photoshop, which was then used as a reference to develop a line drawing with Micron disposable technical pens.  This was colored with cool grey Prismacolor markers, and then with Prismacolor pencils. Before I began to use this technique all of my color images looked painfully cheerful.  But starting with grey is a good way to develop the earth tones commonly found on old buildings.

This image was developed from the birds-eye aerial photos accessible through the Bing search engine.  I didn't have the gumption to color this, but maybe I will at some point... The two work well together to give a quick sense of the block.

Just as a side note, the historical information was taken from the ancient building permit files on microfilm, available at the Harold Washington Library, the UIC Library, or the Chicago History Museum.  These only go up to 1954, so I estimated the date of the annex on the left. 

Howard and Washtenaw, c.1958

I've driven by these buildings on Howard for years, and they always catch my attention.  At this point Howard Street is the dividing line between Chicago and Evanston, and represents the north boundary of the West Ridge neighborhood.  In the 1940s this area was sparsely developed.  In 1958 the former site of the Chicago Fresh Air Hospital at Howard and Western was developed as a shopping center, and a large residential development was built to the east.  It wasn't long before nearby portions of Howard began to develop, and the buildings reflect this time period.

On the corner is a 2-story building clad with a stacked-bond turquoise brick veneer.  A two-story glass atrium encloses a staircase and adds a certain drama to the building.  The ground floor glass block windows were probably later installations for  privacy and security.  The projecting eave of the building contains down-lighting for nighttime illumination. Next door is a taller two-story  office building.  It's framed by stacked-bond piers, and capped by concrete sun-screens, which are kind of a nod to a Corbusian brise-soleil. Next to that is a 1-story storefront also framed by stacked-bond brick piers connected with a sign panel.  A soffit below angles down to the aluminum storefronts.  All in all, an almost perfect  composition of a style I think of as mid-century developer vernacular. 

While the high-style modernists whittled their conception of architecture down to the most honest expression of materials and form (arguably), the neighborhood buildings that were going up took their cues from the graphic design and popular art of the time.  The buiding on the left looks like two separate geometries fighting it out in a kind of Mondrianesque battle.  The center building is mostly flat and featureless, but the vertical piers and mullions and the curved  concrete canopy impose order and scale.  The small storefront to the right is modest, but also makes use of the stacked masonry frame to focus attention on the large plate-glass windows.  It's most distinctive feature is the angled soffit, which doubles to provide exterior lighting.  I'm a fan of the stacked-bond brick work.  It's non-structual and decorative, kind of like a durable wallpaper.  All three of these buidings are concrete block construction with face brick veneers.

In 1956 there was an account in the Chicago Tribune of a successful attempt to derail a rezoning proposal changing the block from a residential to a retail district.  The neighbors were concerned that taverns would instantly locate on the block.  At this time Evanston was dry, so it wasn't totally unreasonable.  But the victory must have been short-lived, since these buildings were built soon after. 

There's no need to include this drawing, but I was so thrilled to have a completely rectilinear building that I tried to sketch it out in Inkscape.  Doesn't really add anything new, but I can show the stacked bricks a whole lot faster.

Movie Theaters in Rogers Park and West Ridge, Part 1

The literature of movie theater architecture tends to focus on the best examples of the type.  But rarely do they provide a sense of how pervasive movie theater culture was as a form of neighborhood entertainment, or how it evolved in response to changes in building technology, film production, and social trends.  As a part of the Rogers Park/West Ridge Historical Society's Storefront Exhibits Project, I've been taking a close look at 1554 W. Devon, the current location of Devon Clark Hardware but originally the Ellantee Theater.  In order to place that building in context I've been researching other neighborhood theaters.  The graphics below are simplified building footprints taken from various editions of the Sanborn Fire Insurance Maps, and the photographs are from the collection of the RP/WRHS.



Casino Theater (1911).  7053 N. Clark.  299 Seats.

The former Casino Theater at 7053 N. Clark is the oldest motion picture theater in Rogers Park and was documented in an article published in the Chicago Tribune in August of 1911.  It has a facade of glazed green and white brick with terra cotta trim.  This was built in the middle of the nickelodeon craze, which lasted from 1905 until 1914.  For a small admission you could enter and stay as long as you liked.  A typical nickelodeon might show short features 16 hours a day, from 8 a.m. until midnight.

Many early theaters were simply converted storefronts.  These acquired a dangerous reputation, since they weren't fireproof and the early nitrate film stock was extremely flammable.   It's interesting that this theater only had 299 seats.  According to the Chicago Building Code of 1922 three-hundred or more seats would define this as a Class V  construction, requiring greater attention to safety features at a greater expense.

The Casino was put out of business as larger, more elaborate theaters were constructed nearby.  As movie theaters became more profitable the early ones were often superseded by larger models.  The marquee was removed and it was converted into a storefront.  Since this undated photo was taken the rounded parapet has been squared, making it even harder to spot this for what it is.  Or was.


Morse Theater (1913).  1330 W. Morse. 750 Seats.

Neighborhood residents will recognize this as The Mayne Stage, a recently renovated concert space and bar near the Morse El stop.  But before it became the Mayne Stage it was the Morse Theater.

This went a step beyond the Casino.  It used an attractive combination of brick and terra cotta detailing to convey respectability.  And it was true fireproof construction, making use of steel roof trusses with fireproof cladding.

The central bay provided access to the box office and a small lobby.  The projecting marquee and inset entrance helped to extend the theater space and draw in the crowd.   Box offices were normally placed close to the sidewalk to better call in customers.  Two flanking storefronts allowed for additional income. With a seat count of 750 building code required that the theater observe the maximum number of seats-per-row (13), provide clear secondary exits to the alley, and locate the projector in a fire-proof room.

It was common for these theaters to combine motion pictures with live entertainment to compete with the popular vaudeville shows of the time.  Interestingly, vaudeville had begun to intersperse their own shows with short feature films.  As live performances became more expensive most movie theaters eliminated them.  Vaudeville itself was hit hard by the popularity of the motion picture.  Two years after this theater was built D.W. Griffith's twelve-reel Birth of a Nation became the first blockbuster, paving the way for more feature-length films and further boosting the popularity (and profitability) of motion pictures.

A rounded marquee is shown in the building footprint above.  This was taken from the 1951 map, and probably indicates a theater modernization, which were very common.  The above photo is c. 1920 and likely shows the original rectangular marquee.


Adelphi Theater (1917).  7074 N. Clark.  1,308 Seats.

The Adelphi Theater was built just four years after the Morse, but the change is dramatic.  The marquee is more elaborate and a two-story illuminated sign is mounted to the building.  The ornamentation has become more exuberant, and you can see the light sockets that are integral to the terra cotta columns.  A signboard showed what was currently playing (and also reveals that the photo was taken in 1921).  This building accommodated several storefront spaces and a large lobby.  Movies were still silent, but they were often feature length, underscored with a live orchestra (or organ), and shown according to a schedule.  

The small structures at the rear of the building were early air-conditioning equipment, a rare luxury for the time.  And of course this was fireproof construction with a steel frame, concrete floors and roof, and brick curtain walls.

Throughout the 1910s move studios were being consolidated and centralized distribution was established.  This theater was operated by the Ascher Brothers, who would coordinate movie distribution throughout their network. There were many of these early operators, including Balaban & Katz (B&K), Marks Brothers, William Fox, Marcus Loew, and Adolph Zukor.  Theaters were bought and constructed with the intent of establishing entertainment empires. 

This building was demolished in 2006 after a long decline.

This series will  focus on several more theaters in future entries.  Amazingly, there were 13 theaters in Rogers Park and West Ridge, including some of the best movie palaces outside of the Loop.

I'm  indebted to Maggie Valentine's book, "The Show Starts on the Sidewalk: An Architectural History of the Movie Theater," for her concise history of early movie theaters and theater design.




Some Chicago Bungalows in West Ridge

Bungalows are one of the most recognizable types of housing in Chicago.  Out of some perverse desire to focus on overlooked buildings I've avoided writing about them.  But it only takes a walk through West Ridge to find that the bungalow is a richer and more varied type of building than I expected.

These are what I think of when I hear "bungalow".  Basically, 1 1/2 stories with hipped roofs, offset entrances, polygonal projecting bays, and art-glass windows.  Developers would often build a string of these together.  They're recognizably related, but with varying details and treatments-- like siblings.  These three were built between 1926 and 1928 and cost between $8,000 and $10,000.  The National Register Nomination for Rogers Park Manor lists Dewey & Pavlich as the architects for 2542 W. Coyle, which leads me to believe they probably provided designs for all three.

But just  one street over there are examles of bungalows with completely different types of styling.  These two were designed by W. B. Wright and completed in 1926.    The architect experimented with the form of the bungalow to create more eclectic, somewhat Mediterranean, versions. 

These two are my favorite examples of atypical bungalow styles.  They're basically small cottages with boxes on the front dividing the main entrance from a small patio area.  I especially like the battered walls on the front facade. These were built in 1925 for $7,500. The one on the right lost its French doors, but at least it still has the tile roof.

If you're looking for an interesting walk through West Ridge I'm inserting the district map.  There's another bungalow district to the south, but that will have to wait for a future post.

Rogers Park Manor National Register Historic District.  From the Chicago Zoning Map.

Veteran's Housing in West Ridge, 1946-1947



A few months ago I wrote about an example of Defense Housing in Rogers Park built for war workers in 1942.  These were the result of strict Federal guidelines permitting only defense-oriented projects to receive priority use of building materials.  With the end of the war in sight by 1944 the country began to prepare to absorb about 16 million returning veterans.  These soldiers had left in the middle of a decade-long housing shortage, and would be returning to all parts of the country, not just areas that had benefited from wartime construction. 

Below is a draft of an article intended for the upcoming issue of AREA Chicago.  It will probably change a bit once I get comments from the editors.

In September of 1946 the Chicago Tribune printed an article announcing plans for a 92 unit development intended for WWII veterans on 3.6 acres on Ridge Avenue, north of Devon. At the time this was a sparsely developed area, dotted with the single family frame houses and small truck farms which comprised much of the early character of West Ridge.

The architect was listed as Edwin H. Mittelbusher of Howard T. Fischer & Associates, Inc. Mittelbusher served as the Assistant Chief Architect for the Chicago office of the Federal Housing Administration from 1940 to 1945. Howard Fisher was the founder of General Housing, Inc. and pioneered the development of pre-fabricated housing. He served as the director of the development board of industrial housing for the National Housing Agency in 1946-1947. In short, this development was designed by people skilled at working within a bureaucracy.


Damen-Ridge Garden Apartments, 1946.  Perspective view from Ridge looking Northwest.

The project itself consists of eight two-story brick veneer buildings with hipped roofs arranged around green inner courts. The outer courts accommodate parking areas. The buildings are a restrained version of the Colonial Revival, with modern touches, such as concrete sun shades on the first floor corners and entrance stairs illuminated with large glass block windows. They were constructed as a combination of 4 and 5 room rentals. This project was initiated under the Veteran's Emergency Housing Program (VEHP), but between the time these buildings were planned and when they were completed the VEHP became functionally obsolete.

The Veterans Emergency Housing Program was developed and proposed by Wilson Wyatt, former mayor of Louisville, Kentucky, at the direction of President Truman. The initial goal was to create 2.7 million housing units within two years to serve veterans, many of whom returned to crowded conditions and shared housing situations. To accomplish this wartime price and wage controls were intended to be maintained and priority was given to housing development through a series of initiatives. The bill establishing the VEHP was signed into law in May of 1946.

Six months later Republicans took control of Congress and eliminated much of the economic controls, resulting in a sharp increase in costs in response to pent-up demands. The program had been responsible for over 1 million housing starts in 1946, but many stood half-constructed due to shortages of building materials. Soon a home that would have sold for $6000 in 1945 was priced at $8,000. This was at a time when many veterans were marrying and beginning a family. Rather than buy a home at an inflated price many chose to find rental housing. This is the era reflected by the buildings in West Ridge constructed specifically for the returning veterans.


2212-30 W. Farwell and 2213-31 W. Morse, 1946.

The construction of these brick buildings was advertised in the Chicago Tribune in November of 1946.  The architects and builders are listed as Charles and Arthur Schreiber, who established their firm in 1938 and later went on to design many modernist structures in the Southwest.  These 4 and 5 room rentals were intended to accommodate 74 veteran families.  They are similar to earlier courtyard buildings in the neighborhood, but with large sunken courts and parking along the alley.  The restrained details, portal windows, and limestone door surrounds suggest the Moderne style, which lent itself to construction on a budget. 

6102-6122 N. Hamilton, 1947.

In February of 1947 the Chicago Tribune published an article about these three buildings, which were constructed as cooperative housing for veterans and designed by architect Clarence Johnson. They're traditional in form and ornamentation, including decorative entrances, corner quoins, water tables and limestone details. These are located on wide lots but are quite shallow due to the cemetery immediately west. The cooperative ownership structure is unusual, and the article claims that this is one of Chicago's first cooperative apartment developments. Titles to these buildings were conveyed to a corporation, and each veteran buyer purchased shares of that corporation. Cooperative ownership was (and is) rare in Chicago, and has been largely eclipsed by condominium ownership. Of the three developments examined here, this is the only one which wasn't intended as a straight rental property.

While I don't intend this to be a comprehensive look at veteran's housing in Chicago (or even in West Ridge), it does provide some examples of the types of development which were feasible immediately following WWII. And in some ways it sets the stage for the suburban explosion of the 1950s, when affordable single family homes became widely available, changing the character of the American landscape.

Sources

1. The AIA Historical Directory of American Architects, 1956. Accessed online at http://communities.aia.org/sites/hdoaa/wiki/Wiki%20Pages/1956%20American%20Architects%20Directory.aspx
2. Chicago and Evanston Vet Apartment Units Approved. Chicago Daily Tribune; Sept. 8. 1946. Accessed through ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1988). Pg. NA
3. Work Started on Three New Flat Buildings. Chicago Daily Tribune; Nov.10, 1946. Accessed through ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1988). Pg. 43
4. Finish Homes in Early Vets’ Co-op Project. Chicago Daily Tribune; Feb. 23. 1947. Accessed through ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Chicago Tribune (1849-1988). Pg. WA.
5. To Hear Only Thunder Again: America’s World War II Veterans Come Home. Mark D. Ellis. Lexington Books, 2001. Accessed through Google eBooks.
6. The Veterans Emergency Housing Program. William Remington. Law and Contemporary Problems, Vo. 12, No. 1, Housing (Winter, 1947), pp. 143-173. Accessed through JSTOR.

Clark and Devon, 1914-2012



Bird's Eye View of the Northeast corner of Clark and Devon, 2012



To the right is a bird's eye view of the site, which I'm hoping is useful for orientation.  Below is a map chronology of the northeast corner of Clark and Devon, adapted from Sanborn Fire Insurance Maps accessed through the website of the Chicago Public Library.  These maps were originally developed to help insurance companies evaluate risk, and remain some of the best and most accurate documents to track development over time.  I've simplified the information and redrawn them.  The Ellantee Theater, the main focus of this study, is shown as dark red.  It opened for business in 1919.

Not a single building represented in 1914 is on the block presently. This is in part because an entire portion of the block was swept clean to allow an extension of the Ashland Avenue right-of-way in 1929. Here's a colorized version of the subdivision map for a bit more clarity. 

From 1929 to at least 1988 Ashland ran through what had functioned as the alley behind the buildings fronting on Clark, creating an awkward triangular greenspace to the west. 

Changes in Street Configuration

The changes in the street pattern are peculiar, but it helps to map them out.  When Ashland was extended south it was also widened, which explains why the buildings along Clark had to be removed.

The section of Schreiber which extended west to Clark was abandoned. This simplified the traffic pattern and also allowed for the creation of Schrieber Playground Park, which incorporates part of the former right-of-way.

Below is a 1958 photo from Clark Street looking North toward Schreiber.

Looking Northeast Across Clark Street in 1958.  Photo from the UIC Digital Collection accessed through CARLI.

Northeast Corner of Clark and Devon, c. 1910.

Some time after 1988 Ashland was routed back to its original location, and the vacated right-of-way became a parking lot.  Perhaps this was a traffic-calming device or in response to a need for public parking.  But the photo to the right shows what was on the same corner about a hundred years ago.

 This building would have made any neighborhood proud.  It was an impressive example of a mixed-use development, with storefronts on the first floor and residential above.  I would describe the style as Italian Renaissance Revival.  But pay special attention to the arched windows on the third floor.  According to the 1928 Criss-Cross directory this was the space for the Rogers Park American Legion Post 108.  It's location on the top floor would have taken advantage of the roof trusses for additional height.


Possible Relocation



There's an undated account of the north section of this building being relocated behind the Ellantee Theater after the main portion was demolished.  If you look at the map to the left you can see that the buildings behind the theater bear a striking resemblance to part of the footprint of the building above.  I'm still trying to find a better photo of these apartments for confirmation, but the ornament on the cornice looks very similar...



As the terminus of the Clark streetcar this corner would have been a hub of commercial traffic, making the area uniquely attractive from a development standpoint.  Instead it was subjected to decades of experimentation and alteration.  

Ellantee Theater, 1554 W. Devon

Most people in Rogers Park know that Clark-Devon Hardware is actually a converted movie theater.  There are even remnants of the interior ornamentation, if you know where to look.  What isn't as clear is how this building changed over time, its context among similar neighborhood movie theaters, and its shifting significance to the neighborhood.

Terra Cotta Ornamentation of the Ellantee Theater

Last spring I joined the board of the Rogers Park/West Ridge Historical Society.  I'm not much of a joiner, so this was a big step for me.  At one of the meetings a brilliant suggestion was made to utilize vacant storefronts as exhibit spaces which would focus on the history of those buildings and the immediate area.  This ties in so closely to the goals of Ultra Local Geography that I couldn't pass up the opportunity to participate.  It was decided that Clark-Devon Hardware would be a good sample project.  It's not vacant, but some type of prototype project was needed.  And one of the other board members is the owner...

To the right is a lunchtime drawing of the decorative pier cap that once framed an even more elaborate parapet.   Time has not been kind to the terra cotta ornamentation on this building.  You can see remnants of the integral light sockets, which were a common treatment for theaters.  In combination with the old marquee It must have been an amazing glowing sight in its day.

So now the historical society is faced with some choices to make.  What are the goals of these storefront exhibits?  How should they be structured?  What sort of stories are they intended to tell?  I have some ideas, but this will need to be a collaborative effort.  Especially since the intent is to extend the project to other storefronts throughout the neighborhood.  I've developed a lot of methods to graphically represent development and change over time, but what about the social history embodied by the building?  How can that be made accessible in a visually intelligible way?  This should be an interesting process, and I expect to try out some ideas here first to see if they float.

Back to Ohio, Part 2

It seems like I've been traveling between Lorain and Chicago all my life.  My parents grew up in Chicago, and at least once or twice a year we would brave the 8-hour drive.  Three kids, no air-conditioning. 

The one constant factor on these trips was an overwhelming sense of boredom.  What was all this space between cities, and when would it end?  I remember listening to radio stations that were so bad even my parents knew it. I developed an ability to sleep for long stretches of time.  Mostly I remember wishing it were over.  When I moved to Chicago and reversed the trip it was still boring, but, as a driver, falling asleep on the road became less of an option.

When I finished graduate school in 1999 I had no job and few prospects.  Eventually I was hired as a part-time freelance surveyor for a historic rural resources survey in portions of unincorporated Will County, southwest of Chicago.  This was an area under heavy development and was rapidly losing  historic farms and farmhouses. 

In addition to the field work I had agreed to put together a database to contain the survey information.  But before I could do that I needed to familiarize myself with the vocabulary of agricultural construction.  This was a topic I had never explored, but since I had bluffed my way into a job I was suddenly eager to learn.

Luckily, there are some great publications out there to help explain what you're seeing and what it means.  Some of the most useful were The Old Barn Book , How to Complete the Ohio Historic Inventory, and the classic Big House, LIttle House, Back House, Barn.  But best of all were  the books put out by the government printing office and agricultural colleges in the 1920s detailing how and why farms and farm buildings should be built in certain ways.

So I spent a couple of months driving out to Will County with a big atlas, tracking down farms, taking photographs, and determining parcel  numbers at the Recorder of Deeds office in Joliet.   I got barked at by huge dogs, but was never bitten.  This is often a benchmark for a successful field survey.

But the unexpected benefit of the job was that I was no longer bored on my trips between Lorain and  Chicago.  Suddenly what I was seeing made sense. I could often guess what type of farm it was, and maybe how it fit into the history of the area.  I also began to spot more and more farms which had been enveloped by agribusiness, where the acreage seemed to soar, but the outbuildings fell into piles of decayed lumber.

On our last trip I wanted to document some of the farms west of Toledo, where there's still an unusual concentration.  These images are adapted from photos taken from the car.  Still plenty of variety, with triple gable barns, gambrel barns, different types of granaries, silos, and farm houses.  And only a few falling into ruin.  It's taken a while, but now this is a part of the trip I always anticipate.

From the 1922 edition of The Wiley Technical Series, "Farm Buildings," by Foster and Carter.

From "American Carpenter and Builder," Feb. 1916.  Accessed via Google Books.

Back to Ohio

Although I was born and raised in Lorain, Ohio I've been living in Chicago for the past 17 years.  Sometimes I feel like a tourist when I go back to visit family.  This isn't always a bad thing. It makes me reevaluate some of the things about Lorain that I've always taken for granted.  And somehow I've acquired another Ohio hometown-- Ashtabula, where my wife grew up and where we visit Felix and Theo's grandmother. This post is a visual record of our visit over the week of the Fourth of July.




This is an old Quonset Hut in Saybrook, OH, repurposed as a storage building.  I'm surprised how many storage buildings are found in rural areas.  Doesn't everyone have enough space?  Perhaps it's just an easy way to get some return on a large building without having to add many improvements.  Quonset huts were perfected during WWII-- easy to construct and easy to remove when no longer needed.  This one has been made permanent with a concrete "skirt" poured around the perimeter.





I believe this is an old Pure Oil Service Station which has been altered and covered with vinyl siding.  Angela tells me that it used to be a gun shop, but it looks like it's been vacant for some time.  I think this is also in Saybrook.







This is a concession stand from Geneva-on-the-Lake.  This the low budget 1920s resort strip that I've written about (and drawn) before, but it still fascinates me.  If we ever move back to northern Ohio I think it would make a good research project.









 To the left is a detail from the Bridge Street District in Ashtabula.  There's  a great collection of Italianate and Queen Anne style storefronts here,  remnants of a more prosperous time.  If there was any justice in Ashtabula this would be the most popular shopping district in the county.  You can almost feel it struggling to become the alternative to the strip malls that pass for commercial districts everywhere else.












I believe this is a grain depot in Austinburg, just down the road from our hotel.  I've never been sure of how these things work.  Somehow grains are lifted to the top of the apparatus and a separated into different grades in various containers.  They probably would be surprised if I asked for a tour.

 This is also in Austinburg.  Judging by the Greek Revival style I have to place this around 1850, if not earlier.  Due to a pesky fire in 1871 it's not possible to see buildings of this age in Chicago, although you can still find some in the suburban areas.  It looks vacant.  Even the trailer parked in front to sell overstock fireworks looks pretty run-down.





So finally we get back to Lorain, which made its reputation as a major steel city on Lake Erie.  The steel mills are still in South Lorain, but they're a shadow of what they once were.  This is a view from 28th Street.  I remember the mountains of purple iron ore that would be unloaded from enormous ships docked on the Black River.  Not as much of that anymore.





Here are some storefronts at Grove and E. 30th Street, not far from where my sister lives. They look vacant, but sometimes it's hard to tell.

And here's my last image of Lorain. A lone brick and frame cottage with bay windows. It looks like the storefront has been converted into a bar.  A very dark bar.  I'm not likely to walk into a dark bar, but maybe I'm not their target customer.