Stucco Bungalows of West Ridge on Maplewood and Campbell

These are some of my favorite examples of a cluster of stucco bungalows along N. Maplewood and N. Campbell Avenues.  They were permitted in 1919 by Chicago architect/developer Niels Buck just as the formerly rural West Ridge neighborhood began to urbanize.

Niels Buck (1866-1928) was no stranger to speculative development.  A Danish immigrant who had trained near Copenhagen as a cabinetmaker, he picked up his architectural knowledge while working in the building industry. In 1893, he began his own practice, primarily focusing on multi-family apartments and single-family homes in the Edgewater and Uptown areas. But I believe his greatest contribution to the city was developing groups of high-quality affordable housing in the 1910s.  

Buck's first large-scale development was a cluster of 36 frame bungalows in the Edgewater neighborhood completed in 1915. Most of them are still there, bounded by W. Bryn Mawr, N. Ravenswood., the alley north of W. Olive, and N. Hermitage.  Like many early Chicago developers, Buck & Co. offered homes on the installment plan.  One could buy a two-bedroom home with a porch for a $300 downpayment, and a monthly cost of $15, plus interest.  In a time before standardized mortgages, community builders were a path to homeownership for many working-class families.

Even before the homes were sold Buck was on to another development one mile north in Rogers Park.  This was a group of 50 bungalows on Arthur Ave. between Clark St. and Ravenwood Ave. For these homes Buck & Co. had switched from frame construction to fireproof construction. These two- and three-bedroom homes were priced at $4,400 to $5,500 and required a downpayment of $300 to $500.  I wrote about these in a previous blog, which you can read here. 

In a 1915 article in Building Age, Buck explains how he made fireproof construction cost-comparable to frame houses.  Buying large amounts of building materials let him save money through economies of scale, while building very similar homes created an experienced crew that required minimal supervision.  In addition, new modern building materials simplified construction details without sacrificing quality. Two floor plans were available- one with five rooms, and one with six.  All incorporated at least one porch. Buck even gave some thought to harmonious colors, offering buyers stucco in white, gray, lemon and brown and a choice between dark red, green, or slate gray asphalt shingles. 

After their Rogers Park project, Buck and Co. became even busier.  In 1919, they advertised thirty more bungalows in the Belmont Cragin neighborhood, on a block bounded by W. Diversey, N. Cicero, W. Parker, and N. Kilpatrick Avenues.  These are nearly identical to the tile-and-stucco homes developed on Arthur, down to the geometric timber patterns on the stucco. 

In 1921, Buck and Co. advertised 100 new homes in the Portage Park area, within a site bounded by W. Berenice, N. Central, W. Waveland, and N. Linder Avenues. For this development, they returned to their earlier frame construction, with minimal variation in facade or massing. 

And finally, we make it to West Ridge!  In 1923, advertisements appeared for the stucco bungalows on Maplewood and Campbell Avenues.  These 30 homes were permitted in 1919, so they were likely available earlier. Niels utilized the tile-and-stucco construction here.  Perhaps he believed the demand would be strong near the developing Devon Avenue commercial district, which had benefited from the expanding streetcar network.

The Campbell/Maplewood development appears to be Buck & Co.'s last large-scale project.  They remained active in real estate transactions, but the construction side of the business seems to have begun to wind down.  A few years later, Niels Buck passed away at age 62, leaving behind hundreds of small homes that still add to the city's affordable housing supply.

Selected Sources

Leroy Blommaert and Marsha Holland. "Niels Buck, Edgewater Architect."  https://www.edgewaterhistory.org/ehs/local/Niels-Buck-Edgewater-Architect.

Accessed 10/1/26.

Who's Who in Chicago. United States: A.N. Marquis & Company, 1926.

https://www.google.com/books/edition/Who_s_who_in_Chicago/dTDTAAAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=niels%20buck%201926&pg=PA135&printsec=frontcover

Building Age. United States: David Williams Company, 1915.

https://www.google.com/books/edition/Building_Age/5t4-AQAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=niels%20buck%20building%20age&pg=RA11-PA31&printsec=frontcover

"Niels Buck and Herman Becker to Construct Homes Costing $250,000 on Ashland Avenue," Chicago Tribune, December 12, 1914, 18. https://www.newspapers.com/image/354960041/

"Display Ad - $300 Buys One of These Homes," Chicago Tribune, February 7, 1915, 10.

https://www.newspapers.com/image/354884039/

"Display Ad - Rogers Park Bungalows," Chicago Tribune, September 5, 1915, 10.

https://www.newspapers.com/image/355125687/

"Display Ad - Rogers Park Homes," Chicago Tribune, September 19, 1915, 4.

https://www.newspapers.com/image/355055610/

"Large Sale of Vacant" Chicago Tribune, May 23, 1919, 24.

https://www.newspapers.com/image/354930043/

"Will Build Forty-Six Bungalows," Chicago Tribune, August 7, 1919, 18.

https://www.newspapers.com/image/355075534/

"Display Ad- For Sale-Real Bungalows," Chicago Tribune, September 7, 1919, 115.

https://www.newspapers.com/image/357473490/

Al Chase. "Better Buy a Car Before You Rent Your Flat," Chicago Tribune, November 11, 1919, 23. https://www.newspapers.com/image/355084421/

"Display Ad -100 Bungalows," Chicago Tribune, September 14, 1921, 30.

https://www.newspapers.com/image/355194302/

"Display Ad - For Sale - Bungalows," Chicago Tribune, June 3, 1923, 103.

https://www.newspapers.com/image/355046752/

"Obituary - Niels Buck," Chicago Tribune, June 17, 1928, 13.

https://www.newspapers.com/image/354870072/

Some of Chicago's Public Baths

If you're a Chicago history type, you may know about Chicago's public bathhouses.  These were built from the 1890s through the 1910s in working-class neighborhoods.  At that time, many Chicagoans (especially immigrants) lived in cheap apartment buildings lacking hot water, with only a shared bathroom.  If you've heard the term "cold water flat," that's what it describes. 

So, the Chicago City Council stepped in and required every landlord to install a central water heater and private baths for their tenants. HA HA HA, THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN!  That would have alienated their wealthiest voters and resulted in a blizzard of lawsuits.  Instead, city administrators bought property, designed no-frills bathhouses, and built a few where they were most needed. And it really was just a few.  Imagine 20 bathhouses serving the entire city in 1910. 

I don't mean to belittle this.  It was a major Progressive Era accomplishment.  It was also an important achievement for women reformers looking to improve the city.  During this very sexist time, women were permitted to participate in public health initiatives, which were seen as more appropriate for their "natural" inclinations.  In this case, the Municipal Order League, a women's reform organization established in 1892, actively advocated for bathhouses.

Most people imagine a huge shower room, but it was actually individual cubbies where you could change, then access a private shower stall.  Although the bathhouse was free, you could pay a nominal fee to rent a towel and buy some soap.  The basement held the water heater and laundry equipment. The second floor had an apartment for the bathhouse attendant.  Men and women used the same building, but on different days.  If you said you were busy washing your hair, that was valid-- the lines were long...

Eventually, the building codes were changed, and new construction was required to provide private bathrooms and bathing facilities.  After WWII, attendance at public baths fell rapidly.

A good book on bathhouses is "Washing the Great Unwashed: Public Baths in Urban America, 1840-1920," by Marilyn Thornton Williams.  There's also a good article on the old Forgotten Chicago website: Public Bath Houses | Forgotten Chicago | History, Architecture, and Infrastructure.  

But a 1969 report put together by Chicago's Department of Development and Planning is maybe the most interesting.  It can be read here:  1969 A Report Concerning The Chicago Public Bath House System DPD : City of Chicago : Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming : Internet Archive

Primarily a planning report, it provides an overview of the public bath program and includes some good photography.  But it's clear the architecture itself is not considered notable.  Even so, the report suggests landmarking the Ogden Public Bathhouse for its importance to Chicago's social history and as a representative example of its type.  The Commission on Chicago Landmarks, established by ordinance in 1968, presumably considered this recommendation. 

None of these public baths were ultimately landmarked, and I really don't know why. They were all city-owned, so who would have objected? Today, most have been demolished, though a few survivors were converted into single-family homes or adapted as park district buildings. But for a city that basically invented the public bath system, it's become just another historical footnote.  

These illustrations are adapted from photos included in the 1969 report.  For the ones that are long gone (all of them except Medill), I had to guess the color scheme.  I drew the buildings in pen, then scanned and colored them in Photoshop.

Some Gambrel Roof Homes of Chicago

Back in 2022, I had this idea to do a series of illustrations of homes in Chicago with gambrel roofs.  For the uninitiated, that's the roof commonly described as "you know, like a barn." Maybe it had to do with an interest in the differences between style and form, and how various styles can utilize the same form for very different effects.

But that ultimately wasn't as interesting as just drawing and digitally coloring a variety of thematically similar buildings and letting them play off one another.  These run the gamut from high-style interpretations of the Classical Revival to vernacular frame homes covered in stone-patterned concrete.  

I liked these so much I had the crazy idea of putting a print on Etsy and watching the money roll in!  That did not work out. But I still like them enough to share.

In another iteration of this blog, I would give some history and background of each one.  But if I'm going to try to post here again, I need to make it easy on myself...

Mid-Century Buildings on Peterson Avenue

Lately there's been interest in the extraordinary mid-century architecture on Peterson Avenue, from the Edgewater neighborhood west through West Ridge, North Park and Forest Glen.  This is a good time to take a closer look Peterson, since many of the most interesting buildings have been vacant for an uncomfortably long time...

Peterson is not an attractive street.  It basically functions as an urban speedway, with four lanes and enormous intersections.   If you're on Peterson, you're probably in a car.  These buildings are designed to catch the eye of someone moving by quickly.  The three office buildings on top use a combination of textured materials, patterns, and colors to spark interest, while the façades are designed to create a sense of enclosure and protection from the nearby speedway.  

But they still follow an earlier pattern of commercial design: close to the street, with parking in the back. Later development would often put the parking lot front and center, which solved some of the proximity problems, but created an uncomfortable, auto-dominated environment.

In contrast, the building on the bottom (a former furniture showroom) uses its enormous windows to create an immediate visual connection between the interior and exterior.  An undulating concrete canopy above the second floor adds interest and maybe even a little shade. Sadly, the old sign framed with roman columns is long gone.  I had to use an old Google Street View image to get its details.

All of these buildings, constructed in the 1960s, hold a significant place in the history of Peterson Avenue. The third one down has already been demolished, but I hope that's not a sign of things to come.

Some shoebox houses in Chicago's K-Town Historic District on the West Side.  Illustrating these buildings helped me stay sane during quarantine.  Construction dates range from the 1900s through the 1910s.  

I can't help but be impressed by the level of detail lavished on homes that are comparable in size to a 2-bedroom apartment!  This was only possible because of inexpensive land and materials, and the craftsmanship of Czech immigrants. Architectural styles represented include Queen Anne, Classical Revival, Prairie, and Craftsman.

You can view the National Register Nomination for K-Town here: Illinois SP K-Town Historic District.

ADM Silos, 1300 W. Carroll Ave. (1947-2021)

This image was developed from a sketch I did of this about 11 years ago. I intended to do some studies of industrial structures, but I ended up drawing only a few and not really going in depth on the history and technology behind what I was seeing.  Anyway, these have recently been demolished for redevelopment, along with a pretty nice attached loft building.  I definitely never imagined the real estate boom in Fulton Market.  My strongest memory of the area was the smell of bleach used to wash down the sidewalks in front of the meat packers every morning.  

Rowhouse Chicago: 1880s

Perhaps the golden age of the Chicago row
house?  

Looking back on this entry, I can hardly believe it has just one sentence.  I was completely obsessed with creating these graphics, but not so much with exploring the history and architecture.  But maybe that's OK.  Sometimes the image triggers the research, and sometimes it doesn't.  Or maybe it stirs someone else's interest... But I remember being too burned out to sit in front of a computer when I wasn't being paid...  Maybe I should revisit some of these buildings, but it might be better just to move forward. 

I also thought these would be really popular online among the Chicago aficionados!  That was never the case.  Ha ha!                     

Rowhouse Chicago: 1870s

These are some of the oldest row houses in Chicago, built soon after the Chicago Fire of 1871.  These have been drawn to represent their original appearance, as closely as I could determine. In the real world, all have lost some structural or ornamental features. 

The building on Monroe is classified by the Chicago Historic Resources Survey as Neo-Grec, which is just a fancy way of saying simplified classical revival with a mix of Greek and Roman details. The projecting bays break up the flat facade and allow views up and down the street.  The front of the building is clad with Joliet limestone, often described as marble in early Chicago advertisements. That makes sense when you know that freshly quarried Joliet limestone was nearly white, with the butter-yellow color resulting from later weathering. Joliet limestone is a good building stone, but its grain doesn't really lend itself to complex carving.  Much of the stone ornamentation consisted of symmetrically carved lines and arabesques, which were less likely to damage the surface.  The elaborate pressed-metal cornice was intended to resemble stone (or maybe wood?) but was a far less expensive way to cap the building.  Of course, replacing such a thing today would be exorbitant. 







View from Goldberg Park

Looking up from Goldberg Pocket Park.

I'm interested in parts of buildings that were never meant to be displayed.  These spaces most honestly respond to the structure's needs and the materials' limitations.  Sometimes these are visible when an adjacent building is demolished, but you can also walk down any alley in the city. I find pocket parks create some great viewing galleries, and sometimes even a bench.  This view from Goldberg Park is one of my favorites.  
It's really a streetscape in its own right, following a set of rules just as compelling as those which govern the finished facades. 

6158 N. Richmond, 1959

Ok, getting back to my profoundly unpopular mid-century multi-family project for just a bit... 

I've written some posts about the Georgian Revival single family homes in the neighborhood which you can read here and here.    Below are some some throwback graphics from 2013, when I thought colored pencils were the greatest thing in the world.  Not sure what I was going for with the blue halo...

Georgian Revival Single Family Homes in West Ridge

As the West Ridge neighborhood developed the cost of land began to increase.  To make the investment worthwhile new construction became more dense, with more units per building. Parcels that had been less desirable, particularly on busy corners, could now be combined and developed profitably.

This 3-unit building below was constructed  on a double lot which might have accommodated two single family homes.  The developer also built a detached two-car garage, something typically eliminated from single family homes in order to keep costs down.  This is designed in the same  simplified Georgian style seen above, right down to the colonial-style windows and the gently pitched hipped roof.



6158 N. Richmond, 1959

The base of the building has the random coursed stone veneer common during the period. This is also used as the surround for a slightly projecting main entrance.  A large glass block window provides light to the interior stair.

The irregular the facade along Granville is really odd, with different windows sizes, configurations and placements.  And how about that uncomfortable-looking blank area?  It's almost as if the stylistic choice is working against the internal needs of the building. This might also explain why larger buildings began to rely on more modern facade designs, where there was more flexibility in the exterior expression. 

Mid-Century Multi-Family Buildings in West Ridge- Part 1

3001-3330 W. Granville, 1956.

Chicago social media has had some interesting discussion recently about how residents perceive their neighborhood and how that shapes their response to new development. I was inspired by an online article by Daniel Kay Hertz, "How Bungalow-y is the Bungalow Belt?"  Unfortunately, it's no longer available online. But to summarize, if you live on a block of predominantly single-family homes, it's easy to overlook scattered multi-family buildings, which easily outnumber single-family homes in terms of unit count.  So, when new multi-family housing is proposed, a comparatively small proportion of neighborhood residents see it as uncharacteristic, guided more by their intuitive understanding of the area than by actual demographics.

2250 Single-Family Homes and
946 Multi-Family Homes (1945-1965)

Those who see new development as threatening to the character of their neighborhood may be successful in opposing and blocking these projects, particularly if they require a zoning change, which is subject to  review through the local alderman. These opponents often appropriate the language of planning to justify that opposition--  not enough parking, too much density, incompatible in scale... Although these may be valid concerns they often stem from a qualitative understanding of the neighborhood and don't acknowledge the complex interweaving of different types of land use.

So I thought it might be interesting to look at multi-family housing in the West Ridge neighborhood.  In particular, I'm focusing on mid-century development, which housing advocates and architectural historians often overlook. What exactly are the proportions of multi-family buildings to single-family buildings during this period?  How did development change over time?  To answer some of these questions, I used the Building Footprints data provided by the City of Chicago.  This is the information the city uses in its Geographic Information System, and includes construction date, unit counts, and number of floors.  Full disclosure--  I have no idea if this information is accurate.  I assume much of it was taken from the Cook County Tax Assessor.  But it was the best building-level information I could identify, so I'm going with it. 

2250 Single Family Units and
4653 Multi Family Units

Between 1945 and 1965 there were 2550 single family homes constructed in West Ridge. Not surprising, since much of the neighborhood participated in the post-war building boom.   In the same time period there were 946 multi-family homes built.  In comparison the total number of single-family households remain at 2550, but the multi-family buildings contain 4653 households-- nearly twice as many.  (My crummy graphs are meant to represent this visually, although you'll have to click on them before they become legible.) So, the real weight of opinion in the neighborhood should really be with the residents of the multi-family buildings.

In the next few weeks I'll be taking a closer look at some of these mid-century multi-family buildings.  I find this era to be a very creative period in housing history, and one that hasn't really received enough attention from a developmental or architectural standpoint.  The West Ridge neighborhood is practically an encyclopedia of mid-century design, and I hope to plot out a small part of it.


I also want to talk a bit about what's becoming known as the "missing middle" of the housing market- developments which are similar in scale to single family homes but create a denser neighborhood, permitting greater diversity, walkability and affordability.  I believe these mid-century buildings are good examples and can provide some lessons on adding density in established urban neighborhoods.

6158 N. Richmond, 1959

Devon and Artesian - Moderne in West Ridge

North intersection of Devon and Artesian

This image is the colorized version of a drawing I'll be offering for bid at the Stone Academy Silent Auction.  It's actually just a few blocks from the school, so I thought it might be a good subject for those with a strong investment in the neighborhood.

As West Ridge developed Devon became a high-end commercial strip with a number of impressive terra cotta buildings constructed in the 1920s.  This district served an explosion of new homeowners attracted by the development of affordable bungalows.  At the time the area still had some of the open agricultural character which marked the first development of the neighborhood.

These two buildings represent the second wave of architectural development,  with a more streamlined appearance and less ornamentation.  Both are clad with Indiana limestone, similar to the Moderne-style skyscrapers going up in the Loop around the same time.  The building on the left, originally Hillman's Grocery, was designed by the firm of Leichenko & Esser in 1942.  It's unusual to find commercial construction built during WWII, when most materials were shunted to the military or to housing.  The building on the right was designed by Albert Hecht and constructed in 1939.  It was originally a Rusnak Brother's Furniture, an early franchise with outlets throughout Chicago.

And here's the black and white version, which will be offered for bid.  Although there have been a few improvements since this scan was taken.

Morse Avenue Walking Tour

The graphic below is the culmination of the work I've done on Morse Avenue since last February. Some history and analysis was written for each of the illustrations, and can be found on this blog.  These were intended to be thumbnail images, but some of the subjects required a more detailed treatment.  You'll probably need to click on the image to see it at a decent resolution.

The point of the project was to take a single street and show it as a microcosm of Chicago architecture and history.  Not sure if it succeeded entirely, but I still think the idea is a good one.  I might try it again on another street... 

L. Shure, 2015

1130-1142 W. Morse (1907-1917)

Morse Avenue dead-ends at the lakefront, and, as you approach the lake, you find a wide variety of building types.  These three buildings, all built between 1907 and 1917, illustrate the rapid change in density that occurred along Morse Avenue.

Looking North

According to the Assessor, the frame building in the center was built in 1907.  The building to its left followed in 1912, and the one on its right in 1917.  Chicago's  1924 Zoning Code anticipated greater density along the city's lakefront, a development that was already happening by the time the Code was adopted. In the early 20th century, just like today, there was a strong desire to be close to Lake Michigan, even if you were sharing your lakefront real estate with several other families.

All of the frame houses on this block originally had generous porches to capture cool breezes from the lake.  The one above lost its porch and wood siding some time after 1937.  It's looked a little bit blank ever since, but it makes up for it with an amazing roofline!  The six-flat on the left side of our frame house has classical details, with limestone lintels and a pressed metal cornice with dentils.  The one to its right has a sort of Craftsman appearance with very restrained ornamentation.

One final note: You'll notice that there's a hill in front of these buildings.  It's a good bet these were built atop a low sand dune. 

Former Rogers Park National Bank, Clark and Lunt

The building at the southeast corner of Lunt and Clark is a 1917 Classical Revival bank with an Art Moderne facade along Clark Street.   Your first thought should probably be "What the heck?" But why this happened is interesting. 

Most of the historic info below can be found in articles published by the Chicago Tribune, accessed through the website of the Chicago Public Library.  Some information about neighborhood banks is taken from the Neighborhood Bank Buildings Landmark Designation Report published in 2007 by Chicago's Historic Preservation Division in the Department of Planning and Development. The postcard image of the Rogers Park National Bank prior to renovations was taken from the Illinois Digital Archives.

This view is looking South.

In the winter of 1917 the new home for the Rogers Park National Bank was under construction. It was designed by firm of Vitzthum and Teich in the Beaux Arts tradition.  Its cladding was polished granite and grey Indiana limestone.  Beaux Arts-style buildings generally relied on the Classical Revival architectural vocabulary, which was selected to convey an image of permanence and stability.   There was a surge of buildings designed in this style after publication of the 1909 Plan of Chicago, which used the same vocabulary to illustrate recommended improvements to Chicago.  The Rogers Park National Bank observed the massing of other nearby commercial development, but it's use of monumental columns and expensive materials placed it an entirely different class.  The bank was constructed at a cost of $75,000, which would translate to roughly $1.3 million today.

As Chicago expanded it became a city of neighborhoods, each with its own commercial and economic life.  At the time Illinois law prohibited banks from opening multiple branches in an attempt to prevent monopolies.  Instead, independent neighborhood banks were developed to address local needs for financial services, building and business loans.

Neighborhood banks were typically sited at the key intersections of commercial districts, and became prominent landmarks.  Clark and Lunt was adjacent some of the earliest commercial and civic development both before and after Roger Park's 1893 annexation to City of Chicago.  Later the new Phillip State Bank and Trust (of a similar monumental design) would locate at the northeast corner of the same intersection.

Apparently the last good photo I took of this corner was in 2008.  It hasn't changed much.

 The Great Depression led to the end of the Rogers Park National Bank, as it did for many other banks.  In September of 1931 the bank was ordered closed by the board of directors.  Heavy withdrawals were given as the reason.  The bank had nearly $400,000 in deposits, but that  wasn't enough to reassure their depositors that their money was safe.  A receiver took over the bank, and was responsible for distributing its assets to depositors and stock holders.  In February of 1939 the bank building was offered for sale.  It was purchased later that year by Simon Simanski, who went about maximizing the value of his new bargain property.  

By December of 1940 the building had been drastically renovated, incorporating the adjacent building to the south under a new Clark Street facade designed by the firm of Lowenberg and Lowenberg.  This was a comprised of cream and turquoise terra cotta tiles.  The former separation between the buildings can be seen above as a wide band between the two groups of second floor windows.  Originally this contained a vertical strip of glass blocks, which has since been infilled.    The detailing is a streamlined version of the Art Moderne style, with minimal references to historic ornament.  This was seen as a good way to modernize a building, and was probably fairly inexpensive.  The portion of the building along Lunt had its windows reduced in size or infilled, but was mostly left alone.  An additional 1-story storefront was added to the east, completely filling the lot.

I wonder if there are any remaining interior details related to its banking history.  If so they may be buried deep underneath the alterations.  In 1940 the building looked pretty much as it does today.   In 1945 it was the site of a double murder, but that will have to wait for a different post...

You can find another post about the Rogers Park National Bank at the Forgotten Chicago website.

7528-7532 N. Greenview, 1927

It's kind of a surprise to find that one of the crummiest buildings in Rogers Park used to be one of the most attractive.  But that's what I discovered while digging through the American Terra Cotta Collection digital archives at the University of Minnesota. I walked past that convenience store a dozen times and never imagined it was once so tasteful and carefully composed.

It only looked like the 1927 photo for perhaps 10 years.  By 1937 half of the Spanish baroque-style building, designed by Zimmerman, Saxe and Zimmerman, had been demolished to create a gas station, retaining only the five bays on the west seen in the lower photo.  And then the gas station was converted into a convenience store, with a breathtaking use of 1970s-style mansard roofs. 

Terra cotta bay with infill

The "L" was extended to Howard Street about 1908, feeding into a burgeoning commercial and entertainment district.  By the mid 20's the area was well-established.   Choosing to construct a 1-story commercial building in 1927 seems a bit out-of-character for the area, but it was located at the edge of the commercial district and perhaps it was felt that upper floors wouldn't be utilized.  As business dropped off in the 1930s retooling the building into a gas station must have seemed like a reasonable idea.  But it would have hurt to see the historic entrance torn off... And in the long run the site was still too small to function as a gas station. Now it's a weirdly-shaped neighborhood convenience store.

1218-1220 W. Morse, c. 1925

I was surprised to find this photo in a scrapbook digitized by the Art Institute of Chicago found in the collection of architect B. Leo Steif. 

Steif's scrapbook is the sort of document biographers pray for, but seldom find.  Whenever he had a project mentioned in the media or one of his designs published he snipped it out and pasted it down.  Unfortunately, the resolution of the scans don't always make it easy to read the text, but at least I know where to find the original.  The historic photo to the right was used as a advertisement by the Northwestern Terra Cotta Company. 

The building has aged pretty well.  It's lost some of the decorative urns at the parapet, and all of the terra cotta balustrades.  The storefronts and operable awnings have been replaced, but the building has come through the past 80 plus years nearly unscathed.  I have no idea about structural issues, but being vacant for so long certainly doesn't help.

If you'd like to view the scrapbook (and who wouldn't?) click here.

1425 W. Morse, 1963

1425 W. Morse

This is one of the worst buildings that can happen to a dense neighborhood commercial district.  It's one-story tall and and the parcel is equally split between the building and parking.  I would say it's a good thing that one side of the building aligns with the sidewalk, but it basically presented a huge blank wall until some storefronts were cut into it a few years back. And it's mid-block, so you can only enter from Morse.   Cars can park right up to the fence along the sidewalk, which is massive and unfriendly.

I expect this was built as a large grocery store and was then superseded by even larger stores with more parking at at the edge of the neighborhood.  Which is really where they belong.  It looks as though this building is struggling for tenants, despite its half-hearted renovation.

This is located on what was basically four separate parcels which originally contained two single family homes and connected two-flats. Lots which don't redevelop to match the predominant density of a commercial area typically redevelop later at a higher intensity.

But even in 1963 why did this seem like a good idea?  I wouldn't be surprised to see this replaced at some point.  It's perfect for a large transit-oriented development.

Morse and Paulina (1905-1914)

1700-1712 W. Morse

The Morse Avenue project is to take a quick look at the the variety of buildings on the street and use illustrations to make some points about its architecture and development.  So I won't going into depth about this block, and how St. Jerome's Catholic Church eventually expanded to fill it entirely.  I won't be discussing the establishment of the Catholic parishes in Rogers Park, and how they managed to break the grid of the city to allow for development better suited to their needs.  Or their importance to early Rogers Park as major social institutions.

The convent building on the right is in the same location as the original (wood) St. Jerome's Church, which was built in the 1890s.  In 1914 the congregants hired architect Charles Prindeville to design the Italian Renaissance Revival Church to the north, which was completed in 1916.  It's likely that the convent was added around that same time, since the congregation still owned that parcel. The church was substantially lengthened in the 1930s, requiring an abandonment of the alley right-of-way and opening up the property for additional development.  A rectory with distinct Art Deco touches was built along Lunt in 1939, replacing the wooden St. Paul's by the Lake, which had been on the NW corner of the site since the 1890s.

Even with good fire insurance maps it's still difficult to tell exactly what was built when, and how the buildings changed as they grew together.  The center of the block filled up with additional school buildings in the 1940s and 50s, although it seems portions of older buildings remained to anchor the new development.  The school buildings along Morse were the temporary home of the Chicago Math and Sciences Charter School, but I don't know if they currently function as a school.

This block really deserves an in-depth treatment of its own, but that will have to wait for a future post.  Or series of posts. If any old-time Roger Parkers want to clarify what was built when please feel free to comment below.

1523-1529 W. Morse, c. 1910

These brick two-flats were constructed between1905 and 1914. Previous development along this section of Morse had been largely single family homes, but the extension of the elevated train to Howard Street in 1908 touched off a steady increase in density that would continue through the 1920s. In the 1910s and 1920s many of the single family homes were demolished in favor of larger apartment buildings and commercial spaces.  These two-flats survived in the slot between these two trends.

1523-1529 W. Morse

When an area shifted from residential to commercial owners sometimes realized that they could add
commercial space while avoiding the cost of a complete rebuild.  Both of these 1-story commercial portions were constructed after 1951 in the postwar boom.

The drawback of this type of alteration is that it makes the original building less appealing as a residence. Views to the street are obstructed, and good luck getting light into the house. Although the second floor can enjoy an enormous roof deck....