Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

THE MAGAZINE OF THE CHICAGO HISTORICAL SOCIETY

Winter 1998-99 VOLUME XXVII, NUMBER 3

Contents

4 21 3

Justice for the Child: The Beginning of the Juvenile Court in Chicago David S. Tanenhaus

A Meeting of the Waters Emily J. Harris

Departments From the Editor Rosemary K. Adams

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Yesterday’s City

54

Making History

66

Index to Volume 27

Richard Digby-Junger

Timothy J. Gilfoyle

C H I C AG O H I S T O RY Editor-in-Chief Rosemary K. Adams Associate Editors Gwen Ihnat Lesley A. Martin Designer Bill Van Nimwegen Photography John Alderson Jay Crawford

Copyright 1998 by the Chicago Historical Society Clark Street at North Avenue Chicago IL 60614-6099 312-642-4600 www.chicagohistory.org ISSN 0272-8540 Articles appearing in this journal are abstracted and indexed in Historical Abstracts and America: History and Life.

Footnoted manuscripts of the articles appearing in this issue are available from the Chicago Historical Society’s Publications Office.

Cover: Tall masted lake boats and a steam towboat fill this slip near Wolf Point. (Photograph by John Gates, 1882. Courtesy of the Chicago Architectural Photographing Co., David R. Phillips.)

C H I C AG O H I S T O R I C A L S O C I E T Y OFFICERS

TRUSTEES

R. Eden Martin Chair Potter Palmer Vice Chair Charles T. Brumback Vice Chair Sharon Gist Gilliam Treasurer Joseph Levy Jr. Secretary Philip W. Hummer Immediate Past Chair Douglas Greenberg President and Director

Laura Barnett Lerone Bennett Jr. Philip D. Block III David R. Boles David P. Bolger Laurence Booth Charles T. Brumback Mrs. Ann Middleton Buckley Michelle L. Collins John W. Croghan Stewart S. Dixon Michael H. Ebner Sharon Gist Gilliam M. Hill Hammock Harry W. Howell Philip W. Hummer Richard M. Jaffee

LIFE TRUSTEES

Edgar D. Jannotta Barbara Levy Kipper W. Paul Krauss Fred A. Krehbiel Joseph Levy Jr. Mrs. John J. Louis Jr. Wayne A. McCoy R. Eden Martin Robert Meers Potter Palmer Michelle S. Paulsen Margarita Perez Donald H. Rumsfeld Gordon I. Segal Edward Byron Smith Jr. Matthew H. Stearns James R. Thompson Daniel H. Wheeler

Bowen Blair John T. McCutcheon Andrew McNally III Mrs. Frank D. Mayer Mrs. Newton N. Minow Bryan S. Reid Jr. Dempsey J. Travis HONORARY TRUSTEES

Richard M. Daley Mayor, City of Chicago John W. Rogers Jr. President, Chicago Park District

The Chicago Historical Society gratefully acknowledges the Chicago Park District’s generous support of all of the Historical Society’s activities.

2 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

FROM THE EDITORI

T

he editors at Chicago History perform many tasks in creating this magazine: we acquire and review manuscripts, edit articles, work with authors on revision, factcheck, proofread, write captions, etc.

Among our favorite tasks is conducting photo research.

With the Chicago Historical Society’s collection of more than 20 million objects, books, photographs, paintings, sculpture, costumes, manuscripts, and other items, photo research gives us the opportunity to view and study countless historical documents and artifacts, from souvenirs of the A Century of Progress International Exposition to sheet music written in the wake of the Great Chicago Fire, from a letter written by Albert Einstein to a diamond choker owned by Bertha Honore Palmer. Because of space limitations, we cannot always print everything we would like to. In other cases, our research leads us to fascinating pieces that are not directly related to the articles we are publishing.

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Justice for the Child: The Beginning of the Juvenile Court in Chicago DAV I D S . TA N E N H AU S

To save young boys from being locked up with “murderers, anarchists, and hardened criminals,” a group of Chicago politicians, lawyers, and activists pooled their efforts to create the nation’s first juvenile court.

I

n 1888, Lucy Flower, a transplanted Wisconsin reformer whose public service dated back to the Woman’s Relief Corps of the Civil War, declared that Chicago needed a special “parental court” to hear the cases of all dependent, neglected, and delinquent children under sixteen years of age in the city. This vision earned her the appellation “mother of the juvenile court,” although it would take more than a decade of concerted effort before this vision would become an institutional reality.

The Chicago crusade that Flower led represented a local manifestation of the transatlantic social movement in the 1880s and 1890s to solve the problems of crime and poverty, which were often conceived of and discussed in similar terms. This concern with the social lives of urban populations developed as a response to the impact of industrialization and a sense of social crisis.

Individual responsibility no longer seemed an adequate explanation for the existence of widespread disorder in the modern world. Reformers redescribed crime and poverty as social problems that required thorough investigation and public action to resolve.

The young male and his world often became a subject for these inquiries into “dark places.” In part, this resulted from earlier studies like Henry Mayhew and John Binny’s The Criminal Prisons of London and Scenes of Prison Life (1862), which had revealed that “the greater number of criminals are found between the ages of 15 and 25.” As Mayhew and Binny observed:

4 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

Reformer and social justice pioneer Lucy Flower (above), the “mother of the juvenile court,” worked for more than a decade for her dream to reach reality.

Opposite: Due to a dismal economy at the turn of the century, many children lacked education, clothing, or even a home, leaving them likely to wind up in a bridewell; police picked up most children due to “vagrancy.”

[This period] when human beings begin to assert themselves is the most trying time for every form of government—whether it be parental, political, or social; and those indomitable natures who cannot or will not brook ruling, then become heedless of all authority, and respect no law but their own.

Concerns about unruly teenaged boys led to intensive study of these rebellious years, which psychologist G. Stanley Hall christened “adolescence” in the early twentieth century.

Juvenile Court | 5

6 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

The presence of boys in bridewells (jails) also led to a reexamination of criminal justice. John P. Altgeld, a young lawyer with grand political aspirations, investigated Chicago’s system of justice. In Our Penal Machinery and Its Victims (1884), he likened it to: a great mill which, in one way or another, supplies its own grist, a maelstrom which draws from the outside, and then keeps its victims moving in a circle until swallowed in the vortex.

This Dante-esque descent made “criminals out of many that are not naturally so,” including children, by subjecting them to “a criminal experience.”

According to Altgeld, the journey began with an arrest: “Stop right here, and for a moment imagine yourself forced to submit to being handcuffed, and see what kind of feelings will be aroused in you.” He added, “submission to that one act of degradation prepares many a young man for a career of crime.” Next, the offender was taken to the police station where he would spend the night “with the vicious of every kind,” literally, an introduction to his future companions in crime.

After the long night ended, the accused would appear before a police magistrate. At this stage, almost one-third of the cases were discharged because of improper arrest.

These individuals, although now free, had still suffered from the trauma of an arrest and a harrowing night in jail.

The magistrate fined those charged with minor infractions—typically disorderly conduct. If they were unable to pay the fine, they were sentenced to the House of Corrections to work off their debt to society at the rate of twentyfive cents per day. This could take from a week to half a year and could devastate family members who depended on the incarcerated individual for financial support.

Those charged with more serious crimes were bound over. If they could not pay the bond, they stayed in jail until the grand jury next met. This could be a few weeks or a few months. If the grand jury issued a true bill, then the accused began the waiting process again, this time for his or her trial.

Children were among those who suffered from this “criminal experience.” Altgeld revealed that in 1882, 3.5 percent of the more than 7,500 people incarcerated in Reformers believed that pool halls (left) encouraged delinquent behavior such as gambling, drinking, and smoking among juveniles.

Above: Illinois governor John Altgeld’s enthusiasm for court reform paved the way for a juvenile court in Cook County.

Juvenile Court | 7

The 1868 Chicago Reform School’s Annual Report (above) shows the kind of work boys performed in the school, including laboring in the laundry, kitchen, and shoe and tailor shops.

Adelaide Groves, cofounder of Chicago’s Young Woman’s Christian Association, shocked by the number of children in the city’s jail, sent a flurry of letters to the editor of the Inter Ocean in protest, one of which is seen below.

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the House of Corrections were 14 years old or younger. If one included 15-, 16-, and 17-year-olds, the percentage of imprisoned minors jumped to 8.8 percent. According to Altgeld, the majority of these children had been arrested for being homeless or wandering the streets.

In 1886, Adelaide Groves, a distinguished Chicagoan who had co-founded the city’s Young Woman’s Christian Association in 1877, decided to tour the city’s bridewell.

She was shocked to see “quite small boys confined in the same quarters with murderers, anarchists and hardened criminals.” Groves decided that it was her mission to save these bridewell boys. In a letter to the editor of the Chicago Inter Ocean, she asked her fellow citizens, “What is to be done with these lads as they leave the jail when their sentence there is served out?” Without some help, she cautioned, these boys would become lost souls and a menace to society.

The impassioned writings and lectures of individuals such as Flower, Altgeld, and Groves helped publicize the plight and dim futures of the children caught in the vortex of criminal justice. It was not until the last decade of the nineteenth century, however, that the crusade for a children’s court really came together.

During the 1890s, the Chicago Woman’s Club was the leading advocate for a children’s court. Flower, who served as its president in 1890–91, worked closely with her friend Julia Lathrop, who later became the first Chief of the Federal Children’s Bureau, to find the political support and legal means necessary to remove children from the jurisdiction of the criminal courts.

Although the possibility of establishing a children’s court in Chicago still seemed remote, Flower was encouraged by the election of John Altgeld, a reformminded Democrat, to the governorship in 1892. One of his first acts was to appoint Julia Lathrop to the State Board of Charities. Lathrop was the first woman to be so honored and as a state commissioner she was able to cultivate important political connections. She also distinguished herself by visiting the jails and poorhouses of Illinois’s 102 counties. She would draw on these experiences to make the case for a more humane approach to child welfare.

Flower conducted some research of her own. In 1895, she visited Boston, her birthplace, to study its innovative system of child welfare, especially its pioneering use of probation in juvenile cases. After her return, Flower drafted a plan to transfer all children’s cases from the city’s eleven police courts to a single, higher court. This consolidation of cases, she imagined, would assure more consistent handling and also take ward politics out of the process. She presented the draft to her friend S. S. Gregory, a lawyer well-versed in constitutional law. Gregory told Flower, much to her chagrin, that the plan was unconstitutional.

He explained that legal practice “must be uniform

Prison workers deliver meals to two young inmates in a turn-of-the-century Chicago jail.

Juvenile Court | 9

throughout the state and [that she] could not change it in Chicago without changing it in the rest of the state.” Such a statewide law, he told her, “seemed impossible.”

The ongoing tensions between Chicago and downstate Illinois were probably Gregory’s main concern. It was unlikely that rural counties would support a bill that would change their legal procedures to accommodate Chicago’s needs. Discouraged, but still determined, Flower and Lathrop decided to consult Judge Harvey B. Hurd, a skilled lawyer who was a specialist in Illinois law.

In 1869, Governor Palmer appointed Hurd to rewrite Illinois’s general statutes, a task that took him five years.

Since that time, Hurd had periodically updated his authorized version of the state’s laws and had also helped to draft important pieces of legislation, such as the 1876 Industrial Schools Act. This act laid out the legal pathway of the emerging ideology of “the child and the state,” which made it possible to imagine the creation of a specialized juvenile court.

Hurd, not surprisingly, was reluctant to get involved in what looked like a time-consuming and potentially futile undertaking. Lathrop eventually was able to convince him to take the matter under consideration after describing to him the condition of the children she had seen in the jails across the state. After struggling with the legal knot for days, Hurd finally cut through it. His solution was to make the legislation permissive, not obligatory, so that it could pass constitutional muster. This meant that a county might choose to have special hearings for children’s cases, but would not be required under the proposed law to do so. Thus, Cook County could establish a children’s court without requiring any of the other counties to follow its lead.

With a solution in hand, Flower and Lathrop realized that a children’s bill “must not go the Legislature as a woman’s measure,” so they would need to “get the Bar Association to handle it.” Lathrop asked Ephraim Banning, who served with her on the State Board of Charities and belonged to the Chicago Bar Association, to bring the matter before the association. At the association’s annual meeting on October 22, 1898, Banning introduced a resolution that called for the president of the association, George A. Follansbee, to appoint a fivemember committee, whose charge would be: To investigate existing conditions relative to delinquent and dependent children, and to cooperate with committees of other organizations in formulating and securing such legislation as may be necessary to cure existing evils and bring the State of Illinois and the City of Chicago up [to] the standard of the leading states and cities of the union.

The resolution played to the pride of Chicagoans, who only five years earlier had welcomed the world to the 10 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

Social reformer Julia Lathrop (above), a member of the State Board of Charities and the first chief of the Federal Children’s Bureau, advocated a more humane approach to child welfare.

Judge Harvey B. Hurd (below) untangled the legal knot that prevented the establishment of a juvenile court in Cook County.

Chicago Bar Association member Ephraim Banning (above) introduced a resolution that called for the appointment of a five-member committee to examine the possibility of a children’s court.

Before the establishment of the juvenile court, both adults and children appeared before judges in courtrooms such as this one (right), c. 1890.

Columbian Exposition and shown their guests the shining “White City” of the future. The Bar Association adopted the resolution and named Banning, Hurd, Edwin Burritt Smith, John W. Ella, and Merritt Starr to serve on the investigating committee. Hurd assumed the responsibility for drafting a constitutionally acceptable bill. He had to act cautiously because of a suspicious private industrial school lobby, which feared that a large part of its income would be taken away if the state adopted an anti-institutional approach to child welfare, such as placing children in foster homes.

On December 10, in his downtown Chicago office, Judge Hurd met with representatives from the city’s social settlements, women’s clubs, charity organizations, schools, and Bar Association to discuss how best to proceed. John C. Newcomer, a Republican member of the General Assembly from Chicago who had agreed to introduce the future bill, was also in attendance.

In February, Representative Newcomer and State Senator Selon H. Case, who was also a Chicago Republican, introduced to the Illinois General Assembly the bill, which was entitled “For an Act To Regulate the Treatment and Control of Dependent, Neglected, and Delinquent

Children.” It was then referred to the Illinois House and Senate judiciary committees.

As a concession to the industrial school lobby, the bill explicitly stated: Nothing in this act shall be construed to repeal any portion of the act to aid industrial schools for girls, the act to provide for and aid training schools for boys, the act to establish the Illinois State Reformatory or the act to provide for a State Home for Juvenile Female Offenders. And in all commitments to said institutions the acts in reference to said institutions shall govern the same.

This provision suggested how carefully the drafters of the bill were trying to fit a children’s court into the existing institutional network.

The bill used permissive language to allow Cook County to establish a special court. It stated that circuit court judges in counties with more than five hundred thousand people could “designate one or more of their number . . . to hear all cases coming under this act.” These cases, which included dependent, neglected, and delinquent children under sixteen years of age, were to be heard in: Juvenile Court | 11

A special committee of the Chicago Bar Association advocated the establishment of a juvenile court in this report (left).

Illinois State Rep. John C. Newcomer (above) introduced a bill to the Illinois General Assembly to legally establish a juvinile court.

[A] special court room . . . designated as the juvenile court room” and all the findings were to be kept in a separate book known as the “Juvenile Record.”

Moreover, for convenience’s sake, the court was to be referred to as the “Juvenile Court.”

The Juvenile Court would not be a new court, but rather a branch of the circuit court with “original jurisdiction” in children’s cases. Instead of treating children like criminals, its proceedings would “conform as nearly as may be to the practice in chancery,” except in cases where the child was charged with a criminal offense. In these more serious cases, the child would have “the right 12 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

to a trial by jury.” Justices of the peace and police magistrates would also be required to transfer children’s cases to the Juvenile Court. All children under this proposed legislation would, thus, be treated as members of a single class in need of assistance.

The child-savers were able to pass their bill, although to win over the industrial school lobby they had to accept many changes, including the removal of the “secret” hearings clause, which called for private hearings of children’s cases in the Juvenile Court, and all of Section 8. Entitled “Children Not to be Kept in Poor Houses,” Section 8 read:

When any child dependent upon the county for support is committed by the court to the care of an association, to be placed in a family home, the court may award a reasonable compensation for such services, to be paid by the county, including necessary expenses, provided that the compensation so allowed shall not exceed the sum of fifty (50) dollars in the case of any one child.

The industrial school lobby cited Section 8 as evidence of a sinister plot. According to an unnamed but “prominent Chicago physician” quoted in the Inter Ocean, private associations were selling dependent children to farmers in need of cheap laborers. The physician explained: Some of these “associations” make money on both ends of [the] proposition. They are paid by the county for “disposing” of a child and paid by the person to whom the unfortunate child is sent, virtually a slave.

The concern was that representatives of these private associations would become the probation staff for the

new court. In this capacity, they would gain greater access to state power. This would enable them to have poor children declared “dependent” and gain custody over them. These children would then be sold for a handsome profit. The fifty dollar cash payments mentioned in Section 8, the lobby cautioned, would not only make child-slaving more profitable, but would also legalize it.

The industrial school lobby was also able to strike out proposed payments for foster care, which ensured that private institutions would still play the leading role in caring for dependent children. The power of the state to inspect children held in private institutions was also curtailed. Representative Dennis E. Sullivan had the bill rewritten to prevent state officials from visiting “institutions where children are supported by voluntary or public charity.”

A juvenile homes hearing in County Civil Service, 1911. With the founding of the court, for the first time children appeared in their own courtrooms before specially-appointed juvenile judges.

Juvenile Court | 13

The imposing façade of the Cook County courthouse–city hall in 1888, the eventual home of the juvenile court.

The amended bill pleased its supporters, including the Republican Chicago Tribune, which endorsed the measure, and satisfied its critics. The Inter Ocean rejoiced that the bill had been corrected “in nearly every particular in accordance with the criticisms passed in [this paper].” On March 23, the Illinois Senate passed the bill by a 32 to 1 vote. The House, however, delayed voting on the measure for unknown reasons. As Julia Lathrop later recalled, “Mr. Newcomer, the legislator in charge of the bill, became greatly alarmed.” Finally, on the last day of the last session of the nineteenth century, the House unanimously approved the measure.

Flower’s vision of a “parental court” for Chicago became a reality on July 1, 1899, when the new law, the world’s first juvenile court legislation, went into effect. On Monday morning July 3, 1899, the Honorable Richard S. Tuthill 14 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

ushered in the modern era for juvenile justice by hearing the case of Henry Campbell, an eleven-year-old accused by his mother of larceny. The boy and his parents were the first family to appear before the Juvenile Court, which promised to revolutionize the treatment and control of the city’s dependent, neglected, and delinquent children.

The Campbell case, which was heard in a courtroom on the third floor of the County Building in downtown Chicago, was a public event because the privacy provision of the Bar Association Bill that would have limited access to juvenile hearings had been removed to ensure its passage. As a result, the court was packed with spectators including reporters who described for their readers how a misty-eyed Mrs. Campbell explained to Judge Tuthill that her son was not “a bad boy at heart.” Henry had been “led into trouble by others,” she said.

The Honorable Richard S. Tuthill (left), the first judge of the juvenile court, soon realized that he also would have to play the roles of booster and fundraiser if he expected the court to succeed.

In this letter (below), Judge Tuthill commends Adelaide Groves for her efforts to save children from city jails.

Juvenile Court | 15

Frank and Lena Campbell believed that they needed the force of the law to discipline their son, who often stayed away from home after misbehaving. Although the parents had had their son arrested, they feared the consequences of bringing the state into their lives and did not want Henry “sent to any of the institutions.” They informed the judge that the boy’s “grandmother who lives at Rome, N.Y., will take him and keep him.” Tuthill ordered that the boy be sent east because this change of environment offered Henry a fresh opportunity to become a productive citizen.

Henry Campbell’s case was an ideal one with which to inaugurate this new era of juvenile justice. It revealed how the Juvenile Court Act provided Judge Tuthill with the flexibility he needed to determine what was in Henry’s best interest. Before the passage of the law, Tuthill could have sent the boy only to the State Reformatory for Juvenile Offenders at Pontiac or to the John Worthy School, the boys’ department of the city’s bridewell. Now the judge did not have to treat Henry as a criminal who needed to be punished for his action, but could focus on what Henry needed in order to be rehabilitated.

This potential for individualized treatment of children’s cases paved the way for investigations into what caused juvenile delinquency. “The great primary service of the court,” as Julia Lathrop noted, “is that it lifts up the truth and compels us to see that wastage of human life whose sign is the child in court.” This sad sight, what she called “the truth made public,” appealed to her generation’s concern for social justice and energized reformers to discover ways to prevent children from becoming delinquent in the first place.

Judge Tuthill concluded the opening day of the Juvenile Court by speaking about the prevention of delinquency to his makeshift probation staff, a collection of privately-paid individuals and of police officers assigned by their captains to handle juvenile cases. He instructed them not to rush “neglected and wayward” children into court, but rather to “confer with parents, priest, or pastor, using every effort to set the child right without resorting to an arrest save as a final reserve.” Children should be brought to the Juvenile Court “only as a last resort,” he cautioned.

The Juvenile Court Act did not, however, provide Tuthill with the resources to put this new philosophy of governance into practice because all the funding provisions had been cut from the legislation. Reformers and philanthropists helped operate and finance the Juvenile Court during its early years. These Chicagoans desired to make the Juvenile Court into a bastion of progressivism, Judges often sent repeat offenders to detention facilities that featured a labor program, such as this woodworking shop at the Board County and City School in 1919 (right).

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in which individualized solutions to the problems of children like Henry Campbell could be fashioned by experts in child welfare. Their “progressive” vision for the relationship of the child to the state was, however, only one of many viewpoints in a diverse society. How the progressives blended public power with private interest would raise troubling questions about what they intended to do with this powerful “new piece of social machinery.”

Tuthill realized that he would have to play the roles of booster and fundraiser as well as judge if he expected the court to succeed. The Chicago Bar Association’s report on the condition of the city’s delinquent and dependent children, which came out that October, helped Tuthill’s cause. The report praised the juvenile law, announced that Tuthill was “an exceedingly happy selection” for the judgeship of the court, and called for public officials and

This program (above) from a Chicago Congregational Club meeting featured a speech by Judge Tuthill. The public’s fear of unruly juveniles is reflected in the evening’s program title: “The Delinquent Classes—What Shall We Do with Them: What Will They Do with Us?”

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the press to spread the news about the benefits of the pioneering legislation. Its conclusion quoted from a speech delivered by Albert C. Barnes, an assistant state’s attorney in Cook County, who declared: [The Juvenile Court Law] unless thwarted by persistent and unnatural forces, by niggardly means for carrying out its provisions, or by the assaults of those who seek to defeat rather than promote beneficial legislation, will prove the dawn of a new era in our criminal history, and of a brighter day for the people of Illinois.

The implication that the Juvenile Court Act had enhanced Illinois’s reputation became a common rhetorical device used by supporters of the new piece of social machinery. They would boast about how the Prairie State pioneered this advancement in the treatment of children.

The court, much like an esteemed cultural institution, would be displayed as a symbol of civilization and a badge of civic pride for Chicagoans for years to come.

David S. Tanenhaus is assistant professor of history at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas.

I L L U S T R AT I O N C R E D I T S | 4, CHS; 5, CHS, ICHi24067; 6–7, CHS, ICHi-25432; 7 top, CHS, ICHi-09402; 8 top, CHS, Chicago Reform School Annual Report, 1868; 8 bottom, CHS; 9, CHS, DN; 10 top, CHS, ICHi-20368; 10 bottom, CHS, from Origin of the Illinois Juvenile Court Law; 11

left, CHS, from Origin of the Illinois Juvenile Court Law; 11 right, CHS; 12 left, CHS; 12 right, CHS, from Origin of the Illinois Juvenile Court Law; 13, CHS, DN #9432; 14, CHS, ICHi00447; 15 top, CHS, from Origin of the Illinois Juvenile Court Law; 15 bottom, CHS; 16–17, CHS, DN; 18 top right, CHS, from The Delinquent Classes—Chicago Congregational Club; 18 middle and bottom, 19, CHS, Chicago and Cook County School for Boys, From Report of Superintendent of Schools, Sixty-Third Annual Report, 1917.

F O R F U R T H E R R E A D I N G | This article has been excerpted from David S. Tanenhaus’s 1997 thesis Policing the Child: Juvenile Justice in Chicago, 1870–1925. For more information on the “mother of the juvenile court,” see Harriet S. Farwell’s Lucy Louisa Flower, 1837–1920: Her Contributions to Education and Child Welfare in Chicago (Chicago: privately printed, 1924). Sources written close to or soon after the time of the court’s creation include: Timothy D. Hurley, Origin of the Illinois Court Law: Juvenile Courts and What They Have Accomplished, 3d ed. (Chicago: Visitation and Aid Society, 1907); Jane Addams, ed., The Child, the Clinic, and the Court (New York: New Republic, Inc., 1925); Helen Jeter, The Chicago Juvenile Court (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Children’s Bureau, 1922); and Herbert H. Lou, Juvenile Courts in the United States (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina, 1927). Anthony Platt takes a modern-day look back at the child welfare system in The Child-Savers: The Invention of Delinquency (Chicago: University of Chicago, 1969). For a look at the Juvenile Court in Chicago today, try A Kind and Just Parent: The Children of Juvenile Court

by William Ayers (Boston: Beacon, 1997).

The Chicago and Cook County School for Boys (opposite bottom) took the place of the old reform schools. In its 1917 annual report, the school boasted that it taught its boys to “keep in a straight and narrow way.” Hard work was still seen as necessary for the boys’ discipline, however, as exemplified by this group of boys plowing the fields (opposite middle), or in this picture that shows boys viewing the farm structures they built (above).

Juvenile Court | 19

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Overview of Illinois and Michigan Canal National Heritage Corridor

A Meeting of the Waters

P

EMILY J. HARRIS

rairies filled with flowers and tall grasses, oak groves nestled along marshy rivers and creeks, and wetlands teeming with wildlife—these natural features defined northern Illinois’s presettlement landscape. For thousands of years Native Americans traversed the land, establishing trading highways along the rivers and trails between the Gulf of Mexico and the Great Lakes. French explorers, in search of trade routes across the continent, were delighted to learn of the natural water passage that connected Lake Michigan to the Mississippi River through the Illinois prairies. In 1673 the explorer Louis Jolliet, upon returning from the Chicago Portage between the Chicago and Des Plaines Rivers, told his Jesuit sponsor, Father Dablon, that he had found “ a very great and important advantage which will hardly be believed. . . . [W]e could go with ease to Florida [the Spanish territory that included the Gulf of Mexico] in a bark and by very easy navigation. It would be necessary to make a canal, by cutting through but half a league of prairie, to pass from the foot of Lake Michigan to the Des Plaines.”

Lake Michigan, looking south from the lake lock at the mouth of the Chicago River. Early settlers likened the “inland sea” of Lake Michigan to the vast, oceanic prairies. (Courtesy of the photographer, Edward Ranney.)

Editor’s note: The 1998 sesquicentennial of the Illinois & Michigan Canal focused attention on the canal’s importance and its role in Chicago’s growth and development. This excerpt from Prairie Passage: The Illinois and Michigan Canal Corridor takes a look at both city and canal, combining historical photographs with Edward Ranney’s recent portraits of this meeting of the waters.

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Following in the footsteps of . . . Jolliet [and Jacques Marquette, the priest who accompanied him on his river explorations in 1673], Robert Cavalier Sieur de La Salle attempted to establish a trading empire centered in the Mississippi and Illinois River valleys in the 1680s. La Salle wrote that a canal “would be useless because the Des Plaines River is not navigable.” He described a sandbar “at the mouth of the Chicago River . . . that not even a canoe [could] pass over” and how, because the prairies flooded during rains, it would be “very difficult to make and maintain a canal that does not immediately fill up with sand and gravel.”

In spite of La Salle’s apt assessment, the dream to build a canal to exploit the rich resources of the continent’s interior persisted. In 1803 the federal government constructed Fort Dearborn to protect the mouth of the Chicago River and the Indian trading posts located there. Soldiers dug a channel through the sand bar, which was eventually destroyed in a massive federal harbor project.

In 1814, four years before Illinois gained statehood, President James Madison referred to the proposed route of the Illinois and Michigan Canal in his inaugural address: “How stupendous the idea! How dwindles the importance of the artificial canals of Europe compared to this water communication. If it should ever take place—and it is said the opening may be easily made—the [Illinois] Territory will become the seat of an immense commerce, and a market for the commodities of all regions.” The initial surveys for the I&M route were conducted in 1816, but construction would not begin until 1836, after funds were raised and treaties were signed.

Following a series of financial reversals, the canal was completed in 1848. That April, when the first boat traveled from New Orleans to Buffalo via the I&M, the Chicago Journal proclaimed, “It was the wedding of the Father of Rivers to our inland seas—a union of the Mississippi with Lake Michigan; for the fruits of which union Chicago stands sponsor— COMMERCE is its first born—Agriculture and general prosperity its increase.”

The Illinois and Michigan Canal created the first shipping highway between Lake Michigan and the Mississippi River. It 22 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

transformed the landscape, replacing the valley’s prairies and wetlands with cities, towns, industry, and agriculture. Chicago boomed—both its population and exports quadrupled between 1848 and 1854—and smaller towns along the canal route prospered as shipping points for the region’s rich resources—stone, coal, and grain.

The I&M was the last of the great American canals built during an era when waterways were the nation’s major highways. . . . By the mid–nineteenth century railroads were replacing canals as the major form of transportation. Soon the Illinois River valley was traversed by dozens of rail lines that competed with the canal for freight—rail lines that were located there to exploit the market created by the I&M. Despite competition, the canal continued to be the least expensive way to transport bulky goods like grain, lumber, and stone. Tonnage on the canal peaked in 1882 when over a million tons were shipped.

Chicago’s position as the commercial hub of the Midwest required continuous reengineering of the landscape and waterways.

The Canal Corridor is lined by generations of these improvements. Subsequent man-made waterways include the Sanitary and Ship Canal (1900; improved for transportation in 1906) and the Cal-Sag Channel (initiated in 1911, completed in 1922, and enlarged in 1955, when Lake Calumet became the terminus of the St. Lawrence Seaway).

When ground was broken in Chicago in 1836 for the Illinois and Michigan Canal, the Chicago American proudly proclaimed: “This country is moving on like a young and healthy giant. The union of this chain of mighty lakes with the ‘father of waters’ removes all bounds to its growth and extent of commerce.” The I&M realized Louis Jolliet’s vision of a connection from the Great Lakes to the Gulf Coast 175 years after the explorer traveled the Chicago River. The Lake Michigan–Mississippi River connection ushered in the Midwest’s transportation and industrial revolution and firmly established Chicago as the commercial gateway to the frontier. With the completion of the canal in 1848, the wetland located between the shores of Lake Michigan and the vast prairies to the west was destined to become one of the nation’s greatest urban centers.

Goose Lake Prairie State Park. Early travelers described prairies extending as far as the eye could see, echoing the Great Lakes’ expanse of water with a sea of tall grasses. In 1837 Harriet Martineau wrote in Society in America of the prairie outside Chicago: “When I saw a settler’s child tripping out of home-bounds, I had a feeling that it would never get back again. It looked like putting out into Lake Michigan in a canoe.” (Courtesy of the photographer, Edward Ranney.)

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A tiny parcel of land where the I&M Canal originated is all that is left of the canal in Chicago. Though located in a heavily industrialized area, the site, overlooking the Chicago River turning basin in the Bridgeport neighborhood, offers a safe haven every year for birds traveling the flyway along the Chicago Outlet Valley. The Canada geese seen here are feeding on melons from nearby fruit vendors. Other species using this riverfront site include the endangered black crowned night heron.

(Courtesy of the photographer, Edward Ranney.)

At the end of 1674, Fr. Jacques Marquette returned to Illinois to establish a mission near the present-day Starved Rock State Park. Delayed by illness and bad weather, he and his two assistants spent the winter in a hut they built four miles inland from Lake Michigan on the South Branch of the Chicago River near where Damen Avenue crosses the Sanitary and Ship Canal. Although Chicago was largely uninhabited at that time, Marquette encountered two French traders and a party of Illinois Indians. (From a photograph of a painting, CHS, ICHi-26983.)

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This photograph of a watercolor, possibly by Justin Herriott, c. 1906, shows the Chicago River from an eastern vantage point in 1830, being fed by the North Branch (on the right) and the South Branch (on the left), meeting at Wolf Point.

A sandbar extends from the river mouth to Lake Michigan. Annotations on the photograph read: “1. Fort Dearborn; 2.

Houses of Indian Traders; 3. Kinzie.

First permanent resident; 4. Cobweb castle; 5. Streamlet through Randolph, Clark & State Sts.; 6. Cabin Russell E. Heacock built in 1827; 7. Streamlet through La Salle St.; 8. Streamlet through North Franklin St. and Burns Cabin; 9. Indian Chief Robinson; 10. Wolf Point; 11. Hardscrabble.�

(CHS, ICHi-26982)

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A view of the Chicago River and the State Street Bridge, 1873, from a stereograph by Lovejoy and Foster. (CHS, ICHi-00174)

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In 1871, when this engraving was featured in Harper’s Weekly, the I&M Canal lock at Bridgeport was about to be removed as part of the plan to deepen the canal in an attempt to reverse the flow of the Chicago River and rid the lake of pollution.

(Courtesy of the I&M Canal Collection, Lewis University.)

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A river excursion boat, The Belle of Ottawa, from a stereograph by W. E. Bowman, c. 1870 (Courtesy of James Jensen.)

Tall masted lake boats, canal boats filled with stone, barges carrying lumber, and a steam towboat fill this slip near Wolf Point.

Lumberyards and grain elevators adjacent to the river are also served by the rails.

(Photograph by John Gates, 1882. Courtesy of the Chicago Architectural Photographing Co., David R. Phillips.)

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These old canal boats at Lockport were photographed c. 1900-1905 from the decomposing boat (to the left) with weeds growing from its deck. By 1907 the Sanitary and Ship Canal had replaced the I&M Canal for most shipping east of Joliet.

(Courtesy of the Detroit Photographic Collection, Library of Congress)

Canal boats, like the one seen here in 1900, made Chicago the nation’s grain capital. The city’s first grain elevator was built in 1848, a year that also witnessed the founding of the Chicago Board of Trade.

(Courtesy of the Metropolitan Water Reclamation District of Greater Chicago.)

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The lock connecting the Chicago River to Lake Michigan is under construction in this 1937 aerial view. The Illinois Central Railroad yards are prominent south of the river. In addition to its economic preeminence, Chicago owes one of its greatest cultural amenities—its world-renowned lakefront parks—to the I&M Canal. In 1836 canal commissioners designated the lakefront on their plat as “Public Ground— A Common to Remain Forever Open, Clear and Free of any Buildings, or Other Obstruction whatever.” (Photograph by Fred Sonne, Chicago Aerial Surveys.

Courtesy of the Chicago Architectural Photographing Co., David R. Phillips.)

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Workers on the Sanitary and Ship Canal, c. 1895. (CHS, ICHi-27248.)

The massive Chicago Drainage Canal (later the Sanitary and Ship Canal) was completed in 1900 and extended twentyeight miles from Chicago to Lockport.

It successfully reversed the flow of the Chicago River, causing the city’s sewage to flow southwest and away from Lake Michigan, which was the city’s source of drinking water. (1895 photograph courtesy of the Metropolitan Water Reclamation District of Greater Chicago.)

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When the I&M Canal, shown here in 1917, looking east from the California Avenue Bridge, was replaced by the Sanitary and Ship Canal, its bed in Chicago was still used for transportation purposes: first for rail lines and later as the right-of-way for the Adlai E. Stevenson Expressway.

(CHS, ICHi-27021)

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Bubbly Creek, near the former Union Stockyards, looking south. Refuse from the stockyards was dumped into the river, and bubbles produced by the decomposing carcasses gave Bubbly Creek its name.

(Courtesy of the photographer, Edward Ranney.)

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Cermak Road Bridge and counterweight, South Branch of the Chicago River. The Cermak Road Bridge, which opened in 1906, is the last remaining functional Scherzer rolling lift bridge. Its huge rocking counter-weights are shown here. The city is in the process of rehabilitating the bridge in recognition of its landmark stature.

(Courtesy of the photographer, Edward Ranney.)

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I&M Canal’s origin site and the Chicago River turning basin, looking northeast toward downtown Chicago. At the turning basin, located near the 2800 block of South Ashland Avenue, the South Branch of the Chicago River joins the Sanitary and Ship Canal, shown here extending west on the left. To the right (south) is the southern fork of the South Branch, known as Bubbly Creek. The I&M Canal joined the river here, and the small triangular spit of land visible between Bubbly Creek and the Chicago River is all that is left of the busy canal landing. The structures in the foreground [have been] replaced by a new printing plant for the Chicago Sun-Times. (Courtesy of the photographer, Edward Ranney.)

From Prairie Passage: The Illinois and Michigan Canal Corridor. Copyright 1998 by the Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois. Used with the permission of the University of Illinois Press.

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Y E S T E R D AY ’ S C I T Y The play The Front Page has evolved since it was first produced in 1928. Ben Hecht adapted the original script into an even more famous movie in 1940, His Girl Friday, starring (left to right): Cary Grant, Rosalind Russell, and Ralph Bellamy.

The Chicago Press Club: The Scoop behind The Front Page R I C H A R D D I G BY- J U N G E R

Journalists! A bunch of zany buttinskis, with dandruff on their shoulders and holes in their pockets.

Peeking through keyholes. . . . And for what? So a million shopgirls and motormen’s wives can get their jollies. And the next day somebody’s wrapping that front page around a dead mackerel.

R EPORTER H ILDY J OHNSON

IN

T HE F RONT PAGE

The Front Page, a 1928 Broadway play and 1931 movie starring Adolphe Menjou and Pat O’Brien, was the first commercially successful story about news reporters, specifically Chicago jazz or muscle-style journalists, in the United States. Chicago Daily News reporter Ben Hecht was the primary author, but he based his script on the life of its coauthor, Chicago Press Club member Charles A. MacArthur, a court reporter for the Herald & Examiner. Drawing from real-life exploits, The Front Page chronicles the brash character of Chicago journalism in the twenties, complete with corrupt politicians, colorful gangsters, and hard-drinking, hard-hitting reporters who will stop at nothing to get a good “scoop.”

Viewers of The Front Page today may think that the movie sums up the story of Chicago journalism, but actually, it only reveals a portion of the tale. The story starts in the 1880s with the beginning of the Chicago Press Club and segues into muscle journalism in the 1920s. It ends when the copy boy-trained newspaperman of The Front Page–era evolved into today’s college-educated newspaper reporter.

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The talented and tormented writer Edgar Allen Poe (above) was a major influence on the morbid, death-obsessed Bohemian culture.

Journalists organized press clubs in late nineteenthcentury Europe and the United States to bring “members of the newspaper profession together in closer personal relations; to elevate the profession; to further good fellowship; and to extend a helping hand to all members of the organization who may deserve it,” as the Chicago Press Club proclaimed in 1900. On one hand, reporters created press clubs to legitimize the journalism profession, an occupation that was equated with keeping company with unsavory characters and peeking into keyholes. On the other, journalists wanted to establish the same kind of social clubs enjoyed by lawyers, physicians, businessmen, and other urban professionals. At times, these two goals were at odds with each other within and without press clubs, as the definitions of many professions were still in flux before World War I. So it was not too surprising that press clubs gained in popularity because they were “recognized as an excellent medium for propagating good fellowship . . . brilliant affairs and glorious undertakings,” as one Milwaukee Press Club member observed in 1892. The Chicago Press Club was one of the biggest in the world, from its 44 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

founding in 1880 to its reincarnation in 1948 and demise in 1987. It boasted the largest membership of any such group during the peak years of press clubs, 1900 to 1930. It was, as one member wrote in 1920, “the newspaperman’s club—the greatest in point of numbers in the world, the most democratic, the most simply conducted—a club where Brotherhood and Good Fellowship dwell eternally.”

Several literary-reporter organizations and mutual aid societies that flourished in the shadows of proper post–Civil War Chicago society preceded the Chicago Press Club. In 1865, a group of writers and journalists formed the Bohemia Club. They patterned themselves after an 1840s New York literary-reporter society called the Waverly Club, which once counted Edgar Allen Poe as a member. Poe was a powerful influence on American Bohemians.

Named after the Bohemia region of early nineteenthcentury Czechoslovakia, true Bohemians were devoted to ideals such as independence, the youthful confrontation of older, polite society, and a preoccupation with death.

Not all early Chicago reporters were strict Bohemians, but the reporting occupation was young (the first reporters did not appear in Chicago until 1861) and had an independence and spontaneity that attracted Bohemian types. As a 1920s Chicago Press Club history observed, the goal of the Bohemia Club was to confound the “priggish, puritanic, stuffy” parochialism of 1860s Chicago. The Chicago Post noted in 1866 that the Bohemians were talented at making comfortable beds out of newswriting tables, hocking their own and friend’s clocks and watches, and making love to “high-strung ladies.” “Suicide,” a peculiarity in keeping with Bohemianism, “is the only crime that occasionally darkens their history,” the newspaper confided.

Admitted Bohemian and one-time reporter Mark Twain helped make the Chicago Press Club a reality during a highly pubSamuel Clemens (a.k.a. Mark Twain) (right) told a group of Chicago journalists at a late-night smoker that a press club for the city would be a “good idea.”

Franc B. Wilkie (above) and Melville E. Stone (below) were the first leaders of the Chicago Press Club in 1880.

An invitation to an 1881 club meeting (right). Women could attend meetings as guests, but were not allowed to become members themselves until the 1960s.

licized visit to Chicago in November 1879. Following a speech, Twain invited some fifty reporters to an all-night party at Captain James Sims’s saloon on Clark Street. He offered that a Chicago Press Club was a “mighty good idea,” which was taken as a ringing endorsement, and Twain came to be known, incorrectly, as the founder of the club. In reality, journalists such as Franc B. Wilkie of the Chicago Times and Melville E. Stone of the Chicago Daily News were instrumental in the process. The reporters began conducting regular meetings in January 1880 and the state of Illinois granted a charter to the Press Club (so as not to confuse it with a debt-laden earlier group known legally as the Chicago Press Club) on May 25, 1881. It became known as the Press Club of Chicago in 1902 and the Chicago Press Club on August 23, 1949.

Chicago’s was not the nation’s first press club.

New York reporters had established a formal press club in 1872 and Connecticut had one shortly thereafter. The enthusiasm of Chicago reporters, however; their legendary hospitality to visiting brethren; and Chicago’s location at the hub of the nation’s growing railway network gave the Chicago Press Club a reputation as the most influential, if not the largest, club in the United States. Journalists in dozens of other cities during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, including Minneapolis, Milwaukee, St. Paul, Denver, Kansas City, St. Louis, Detroit, and San Francisco, imitated the club. At one time, the Chicago Press Club had reciprocity agreements with nearly one hundred press clubs in the United States and around the world. As recently as 1984, functioning press clubs flourished in the thirty largest American cities. At present, less than two dozen clubs remain, including the influential National Press Club in Washington, D.C. The club rented its first permanent space, two rooms above a pool hall at 133 Clark Street, the same year it was incorporated. For the remainder of its existence, the Chicago Press Club maintained facilities somewhere in the city’s Loop district, with a multi-story club building at 30 North Dearborn Street during its peak years at the beginning of the twentieth century.

Finances, growth, and other factors dictated moves, but there was always somewhere reporters could go to be with their own kind. Beyond refuge, membership included other perks including employment counseling and unemployment, widow and orphan, and funeral and burial benefits.

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Permanency had advantages. In contrast to the unpredictable reputation of Bohemianism, a press club facility gave its reporter members respectability. Doors were opened to news sources that previously had refused to recognize or take reporters seriously, especially after President Grover Cleveland dropped by the club during the World’s Columbian Exposition in 1893. Theodore Roosevelt’s vicepresident, Charles Fairbanks, visited in 1907, remarking, “The Press Club is Chicago incarnate. This is what makes Chicago famous.” In the late 1940s and early 1950s, President Harry Truman was a frequent press club guest.

A Chicago Herald & Examiner reporter found it ironic that Chicago business executives who controlled hundredmillion dollar corporations would visit the press club because of its connection with the newspapers. “It made them feel they were rubbing elbows with the press,” William T. Moore observed, a reference to the glamour often associated with the mass media. The club also served a civilizing function for members. Times reporter Franc Wilkie, the club’s first president, claimed that “the club vastly improved the habits and morals of the reportorial element. Receptions were attended by ladies and afforded some reporters the only opportunity they had for contact with the refinements of feminine society.”

The complacency provided by the Chicago Press Club led to occasional revolts among more independentminded members. The two best-known splinter groups were the Whitechapel Club and the Newspaper Club of Chicago. The journalist-writer’s group Whitechapel (which took its name from the London neighborhood where serial killer Jack the Ripper murdered seven prostitutes in 1888) was founded in 1889 and conducted itself in a more Bohemian fashion than the Press Club. Its walls were adorned with various murder knives and guns (the gifts from cooperative police chiefs and sheriffs), assorted The Press Club Building, 1909 (above right). The transient club moved several times throughout its existence.

A rare quiet moment in an early reception room of the Chicago Press Club (left).

Members could be buried in the Press Club plot at Mount Hope Cemetery on the South Side (bottom right), among the more unusual of the club’s organizational benefits.

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This 1907 letter (above right) invited its recipient to become a “Lifetime Member,” possibly as a fundraising technique to help the club find a “permanent home,” but such stability was not in the club’s future.

This 1905 description of the Press Club of Chicago (left) boasted of its reputation as a “center in which the best elements of the working newspaper and literary men of Chicago find congenial association.” Annual dues were twenty-eight dollars.

This Press Club yearbook (drawings, above left and right) showcases the hallmarks of the club, including humor, caricature, and making fun of members and other journalists and writers.

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hangman’s ropes, and other macabre objects. Members sat at a coffin-shaped bar, drank in copious amounts, and listened to morbid poetry, another Bohemian preoccupation.

Unpaid liquor bills and the depression of 1893 brought an end to the Whitechapel Club’s activities in 1895, and most of its newspaper members returned to the main press club.

In 1907, following a decision to allow non-journalists to join the press club, a group of reporters spun off another rival group, the Newspaper Club of Chicago.

This group was fascinated with tales of the Whitechapel Club a generation earlier and shared that club’s fascination for liquor and the macabre. But soon “the Chicago Press Club [again began] a wily waving of the olive branch and such members of the Newspaper Club as remained in good standing were again welcomed into its fold” in 1909, according to Victor Eubank, a member of both clubs.

The demise of the Newspaper Club of Chicago marked the end of old-fashioned Bohemianism in the city.

Reporters had evolved from insolent, irresponsible outsiders to acceptable members of society by the turn of The Whitechapel Club was a dark offshoot of the Chicago Press Club that reveled in the macabre, as illustrated by this meeting invitation featuring dancing skeletons (left).

These newspaper clippings from the Daily Herald (below left) in 1892 tell the story of the Whitechapel Club’s most gruesome escapade, in which they encouraged the last surviving member of a suicide club to complete the job. He did so only under the condition that the club members would then take his body to the Indiana beach to cremate it. The illustration (below right) shows Whitechapel members standing around the burning pyre at the dunes.

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the twentieth century. The Chicago Press Club took partial credit for this transformation, noting in 1921 that “neither rampant Bohemianism nor commercialized common sense mars the Press Club of Chicago.” Membership swelled from about four hundred in 1900 to nearly fifteen hundred by 1920, making Chicago the largest press club in the world, representative of “seveneighths of the men employed upon the Daily Press, Trade Journals and Magazines of Chicago,” as the club indicated in its literature.

At this time, a new reporter culture emerged in Chicago known as jazz or muscle journalism. Initially, a circulation war had an impact on reporters and the press club. According to Colonel Robert R. McCormick, as quoted in Wayne Andrews’s Battle for Chicago, as many as twenty-seven newsdealers were gunned down or killed in Chicago between 1902 and 1913 as the Tribune and the upstart Hearst–owned Chicago Examiner fought it out on the city’s streets for morning circulation dominance. The cut-throat competition moved from the streets into the newsrooms, albeit on a less violent scale, as Chicago’s newspaper industry peaked and then began to decline after 1920. To maintain circulation, reporters stopped at nothing to get news, from falsified quotes and staged photographs to crime scene manipulation and the impersonation of public officials. Pranks on the competition became a popular spectator sport when news was slow. The press club remained a focus for all of this activity as reporters swapped stories, boasted of their expertise, and laughed about the tricks they played. The trickery had little impact on the press club’s reputation with news sources since there was a general ethical decline in business and politics during the 1910s and 1920s.

As journalism evolved, a Chicago literary renaissance flourished. Beginning in the late nineteenth century, Chicago started attracting a generation of talented writers, including the Globe’s Theodore Dreiser and the Daily News’ Carl Sandburg and Ben Hecht. None of these first-rate authors joined the press club, but hundreds of other wannabes did, “the men who write the novels, the men who delve into the silences and write songs, the men who pluck out of civilization’s mazes the fiction and feature stories that make up present-day magazines,” as a press club publication proclaimed in 1921. Press club members were the critics, popularizers, and first chroniclers of this renaissance. As the literary renaissance progressed, the style of Chicago journalism changed. From the flowery, affable references to Chicago in the late nineteenth-century, the city’s prose became dark, unforgiving, and guttural in early-twentieth century newspapers.

Ben Hecht, who once referred to Chicagoans as “a pack of dogs,” was one of the chief practitioners of the new newspaper realism. The culmination of all of these

influences on Chicago muscle journalism was The Front Page, written by Hecht and coauthored by press club member Charles MacArthur. The authors modeled editor Walter Burns after MacArthur’s Herald & Examiner editor Walter Howey, and based reporter Hildy Johnson upon a Herald & Examiner reporter named Hilding Johnson, with many elements of MacArthur as well. The script is autobiographical to the end, when Walter Burns has Hildy Johnson arrested for stealing his watch while Johnson is leaving on his honeymoon. Hecht and MacArthur based this episode on a real-life incident involving MacArthur’s first marriage to a Herald & Examiner reporter named Carol Frink.

On February 10, 1904, the club held an underground banquet in Chicago’s train tunnels.

In spite of the notoriety of muscle journalism and The Front Page, the reporting occupation and the Chicago Press Club suffered after the 1920s. Exact membership statistics do not survive, but Prohibition lowered numbers as thirsty members abandoned the club’s dry bar for the dozens of speakeasies located within easy walking distance of the clubroom. “The old spirit still lives and flames brighter than ever,” the club proclaimed on the occasion of its golden anniversary in 1929, but the spirit was nonalcoholic. Occasional glimpses of the club’s past surfaced, such as when it paid for the scientific examination of the purported mummified remains of John Wilkes Booth in 1931, but this dark side was only a shadow of what it had been.

From eleven daily English language newspapers in 1890, Chicago newspapers declined to five by 1930.

Only two, McCormick’s Chicago Tribune and Victor Lawson’s Chicago Daily News, had been consistently profitable since the press club’s formation in 1880. The Yesterday’s City | 49

Ben Hecht (above), newspaper columnist and author of The Front Page, never joined the press club, but chronicled some of the exploits of its members in his most famous play.

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Depression and the downsizing of Chicago’s newspaper industry had deleterious effects on reporting and the club as well, even with the return of liquor to the club in 1933. Those Chicago reporters who kept their jobs suffered far less than other workers did during the Depression, due to the then-relatively inflexible demand for newspapers. Many lived in better housing and drove better automobiles than they had during the 1920s. Still, advertising and circulation declined during the decade due to the overall drop in the economy and all of Chicago’s newspapers underwent staff purges and mandatory pay cuts. Reporters, copy editors, and rewrite men, the latter making between seventy-five and one hundred dollars per week during the 1920s, saw their weekly salaries reduced to less than half that.

A new generation of reporters, more serious than their predecessors, remade journalism and the Chicago Press Club after World War II. Chicago Tribune radio station WGN news director Robert F. Hurleigh reconvened the club in 1948. It was reincorporated on August 23, 1949 with Tribune sports reporter Arch Ward as president and the Sun-Times’s Herb Graffis, the Journal of Commerce’s Wilbur Burns, and the Daily News’s John Carmichael as vice presidents. Although the average Chicago newspaper reporter still made only twenty-five dollars a week in the late 1940s, the prospect of a comfortable, even opulent, club facility was a powerful inducement to reporters used to spartan newspaper surroundings. Membership grew from more than one hundred charter members in 1948 to more than two thousand by the mid-1970s, making Chicago the second-largest press club in the country behind Pittsburgh. As radio and television developed, the press club welcomed their journalists into its ranks.

Even though membership was growing, changing educational standards among Chicago journalists had an effect on how the press club and the reporting profession operated in the post-war years. The University of Illinois started a journalism degree program in 1917, as did Northwestern University in 1922, but their influence on Chicago newspapers remained marginal for years. The press club’s newsletter, The Scoop, observed in 1913, “No other school than the school of big outdoors and human contact will ever evolve a newspaperman.

Everyone in the world knows that.”

Instead of college, the stereotypical Chicago reporter and press club member was supposed to enter journalism as a copy boy, barely able to see over the top of the city desk, just as Ben Hecht had done. From there, a select few went to work for the City News Bureau, where such non-college-educated news legends as Walter Ryberg, Arnold A. (Dorny) Dornfeld, and Joe Lavandier trained them. Only after they had apprenticed were these copy boys allowed to think of themselves as Chicago newspapermen.

The camaraderie of copyboy trained reporters began to deteriorate as waves of college-educated journalists, pushed through G.I. Bill journalism programs, entered the Chicago media in the 1940s after World War II. Many new journalists in the 1950s and early 1960s were trained in sociology and attracted to Chicago by its urbanism.

The Berkeley free speech movement inspired late 1960s journalism students while the police beatings during the 1968 Democratic National Convention This list of new club members radicalized them. Young (above) shows that by the midjournalists in the 1970s 1960s membership was no and 1980s were weaned longer limited to just newspaper on Bob Woodward, Carl reporters. Some journalist memBernstein, and the 1976 bers protested, calling the memfilm All the President’s Men. bers from advertising and public Few of these new reporters relations “hacks.” and potential press club members had anything in common with the lore and legend of their copy-boy predecessors. Instead, they bragged about their professional status just as the founding members of the press club in the 1880s and 1890s had. “Reporters are far better educated and have greater status in the community than they did a generation ago,” one younger Chicago reporter boasted in 1970.

Faint vestiges of the press club’s past emerged in this new environment. Exotic dancer Suzanna entertained club members in 1972 much as another belly dancer had amused President Grover Cleveland at the press club seventy-nine years earlier. Chicago Press Club members established a Chicagoan of the Year award in 1971 and a Chicago Press Club Hall of Fame in 1979. Luminaries elected to the latter included The Front Page author Ben Hecht, legendary columnist Mike Royko, one-time Daily News reporter Carl Sandburg, “Dick Tracy” creator Chester Gould, Tribune sportswriter Ring Lardner, Chicago Bears and Cubs play-by-play announcer Jack Brickhouse, and Tribune literary critic Fanny Butcher.

The club attracted political figures including President Harry Truman, who was named an honorary member in 1951, and Illinois politicians such as Adlai Stevenson, Paul Douglas, Everett M. Dirksen, and Richard J. Daley.

It hosted art shows, seminars, travel tours, and trips to local horse racing tracks and other locations. Beyond its Yesterday’s City | 51

This April 1963 edition of the club news bulletin, Overset, (above) publicized various events, such as the annual derby party and an outing to Comiskey Park, and displays the club’s weekly buffet schedule.

own activities, the Press Club also housed more than a dozen related Chicago media groups, including the Public Relations Society of America and the Chicago Society of Professional Journalists chapter, which conducted their own activities using the club’s facilities.

The club shattered tradition by allowing women to join during the 1960s. Beginning with its inception in 1880, the press club had been all-male, with the exception of women guests. As late as 1960, the press club newsletter proclaimed that “this is a male organization.”

Women such as the Sun-Times’s Eppie Lederer, better known as columnist Ann Landers, and Tribune business reporter Carol Kleiman were given “auxiliary” memberships in 1965 and full memberships in 1969. Not until 1970, however, were women allowed to sit at the press club bar during lunch. If surviving male members are to be believed, the reform came without a great deal of controversy. One male member told a reporter at the time that he didn’t mind women at the bar, but “I don’t think any woman should be allowed to work on a newspaper.

I’ve never met one who knew English grammar.”

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professional status of reporters. Working press salaries increased from the twenty-five-dollars-per-week level, but they were not enough to match the ever-increasing costs of Loop real estate. Although the club leased the Sheraton-Chicago Hotel at 505 North Michigan Avenue in 1949, a postwar building boom that escalated real estate prices in the Loop forced the club to find new, if slightly less prestigious, quarters in 1960. These overlooked Lake Michigan from the twenty-second-floor penthouse suite of the St. Clair Hotel at 162 East Ohio Street. Declining economic circumstances dictated a final move in 1980 to a basement suite in the Wrigley Building, nicknamed the “dungeon” by some disgruntled members.

The club responded to its financial difficulties by encouraging membership among professionals from outside the immediate business of collecting and disseminating news. Growing numbers of public relations and advertising members joined, subsidizing the working press members, but they drove away many newer generation reporters who had been taught in journalism schools to keep their distance from press “hacks.” College-educated Evanston Review police reporter John McClelland found the press club “stuffy, dull, expensive, and overloaded with PR types” when he visited in 1969, and Tribune reporter Stephen Rynlciewicz had a similar impression a decade later, calling the press club “a private club for publicists.” Also, working press dues were increased from $60 to $180 a year plus monthly minimums in the mid-1980s, which forced reporters to quit. “When I first joined the club, it offered very affordable meals on a newspaperman’s salary,” one working journalist complained to the club.

“Now the club seems to be headed in an upscale direction—soon it will cater mainly to those on the executive level or those on an expense account.”

The downsizing of the newspaper industry and new societal attitudes toward alcohol were other important changes for reporters and the press club. From five dailies in 1930, Chicagoans witnessed the merger of the Sun (founded as a morning competitor to the Tribune in 1941) to the tabloid Times in 1947, the demise of Tribune-owned Chicago Today, the renamed Hearst American-Examiner, in 1974, and the death of the legendary Daily News in 1978. The press club tried to find work for its displaced members, but fewer and fewer newspaper jobs existed. Also, alcoholism, the “longtime occupational disease” of journalism as some reporters not-so-humorously called it, was no longer a laughing matter by the 1980s. A few old-time press club members continued to brag about their prowess with alcohol in the 1990s, but younger Chicago journalists had a far different attitude toward “the Front Page myth of booze and hijinks” than in the past, according to the Chicago Newspaper Reporter’s Association, another local press group. “It’s so much easier to drift into the subterranean world of the newspaper saloons,” one younger reporter confessed in

1972. “There, the drinks are always cold and the faces are friendly and it’s okay to run a tab . . . A lot of newspapermen subtly alter their emotional stake in the racket: psychologically, they trade their desk in the city room for a stool at Riccardo’s.”

“It’s a more serious business than it used to be,” Mike Royko admitted in 1990. “You’ve got a more serious group of young people in the business today, and absolutely, definitely less drinking.” Veteran Sun-Times columnist Irv Kupcinet put it more succinctly the same year when he said, “The Chicago era of the harddrinking newspaperman is over.” Fewer members, downsized newspapers, and the trend toward less drinking hurt the Chicago Press Club.

The club’s demise came rather quickly. A flood in the Wrigley Building press club location in 1984 resulted in forty thousand dollars worth of damages, and in December 1986, a second flood, caused by an overflowing coffeepot one floor above, destroyed important financial records. At the same time, the expenses of operating a full-service press club kept increasing. Delinquent members were a particular problem. The club’s debts approached one hundred thousand dollars by January 1987, and high interest rates prevented the group from borrowing money to tide it over.

In April 1987, the club’s last president, Chicago SunTimes columnist Bob Herguth, told members: This is a hard letter to write. This is to inform you, if you have not heard the news, that the Chicago Press Club has closed its doors permanently and will go out of existence as an entity. The main reasons: A large debt that kept escalating, a dwindling number of members, and monthly expenses that were high and getting higher. And when we looked for meaningful financial angels, none could be found.

The club was dissolved legally on May 8, 1978. A much smaller International Press Club, made up primarily of retired and older Chicago Press Club members, was organized in the city a few years later, but the chances of it or any other organization taking the Chicago Press Club name again soon are slim. As part of a settlement for unpaid payroll taxes, the Internal Revenue Service retained the right to sue any new Chicago Press Club it deemed a continuation of the old.

One tie to the past that remained until the club’s final days was a large 1956 painting by Dean Cornwell called No Place for a Nice Girl, which depicts newspapermen and a “girl reporter” in a 1920s Front Page-style newsroom.

The painting hung in the club and was copied on placemats and napkins until the club closed. It currently hangs near the journalism department at Chicago’s Columbia College as a small reminder to today’s journalism students of the extensive legacy that precedes them.

Richard Digby-Junger is an associate professor of English and journalism at Western Michigan University. He is the author of The Journalist as Reformer: Henry Demarest Lloyd and Wealth against Commonwealth and several articles on journalism history and is currently writing a book on the history of Chicago journalism.

I L L U S T R AT I O N C R E D I T S | 42-43, Courtesy of

The impressive façade of the Wrigley Building (left), contrasts with members’ description of the club’s last home in the Wrigley basement as a “dungeon.”

Columbia Pictures; 44 left, CHS, ICHi-24712; 44 right, CHS, ICHi-09825; 45 top and bottom, CHS, Press Club of Chicago—History; 45 right, CHS; 46 all, CHS; 47 all, CHS; 48 all, CHS; 49, CHS, ICHi-23269; 50, CHS, ICHi10687; 51, CHS; 52, CHS; 53, CHS, ICHi-26090.

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M A K I N G H I S T O RY I

From Wrigley Field to Outer Space: Interviews with Ernie Banks and Mae Jemison T I M O T H Y J . G I L F OY L E

E

rnie Banks and Mae C. Jemison “made history” in dramatically different pursuits. Few individuals, for example, are as venerated and identified with a Chicago institution as Ernie Banks. At the end of his nineteen-year career (1953–71) with the Chicago Cubs, Banks was universally acknowledged as the greatest major league player in the city’s history. Only the ninth baseball player in history to hit more than five hundred home runs, Banks was also the first National Leaguer to garner consecutive Most Valuable Player awards (1958 and 1959). His 512 career home runs and 2,528 games placed him in the top ten players in major league baseball history at retirement. In 1976, Banks became only the eighth player elected in his first year of eligibility to baseball’s Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York. Fittingly, his autobiography was titled Mr. Cub. Mae Jemison grew up in Chicago, graduated from Morgan Park High School, and went on to become a scientist, chemical engineer, physician, Peace Corps worker, astronaut, and technology consultant. A leading spokesperson on the importance of science, Jemison has hosted the weekly World of Wonder on the Discovery Channel, founded an international science camp, and established the Jemison Institute for Advancing Technology in Developing Countries at Dartmouth College. In 1992, she attracted international attention when she served as a mission specialist on the space shuttle Endeavor.

Although Banks and Jemison are separated by both a generation and dissimilar careers, their lives and certain themes intersect in unexpected ways. Each was born in the South and both migrated to Chicago during the 1950s. They lived within three miles of each other on Chicago’s South Side during the 1960s. And Banks and Jemison attracted public attention for their “firsts.” Banks was the first African American who signed with and played for the Chicago Cubs.

Jemison was the first woman of color to fly in space.

54 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

Ernie Banks in uniform for the Kansas City Monarchs, the wellknown Negro League team where he played for a few years at the beginning of his baseball career.

Ernie Banks was born on January 31, 1931, in Dallas, Texas, the second-oldest of Eddie and Essie Banks’s dozen children. Eddie Banks was a Texas native who had picked cotton, had worked construction for the Works Progress Administration, and was eventually employed by the Texas Wholesale Grocery Corporation in Dallas. In the meantime, he also played catcher for black semipro teams such as the Dallas Green Monarchs and the Houston Buffalos. Essie Banks was a part-time custodial employee in Dallas. “I enjoyed growing up in Dallas,” remembers Banks. “Everything was within walking distance: the school I went to, the YMCA, my friends in the neighborhood, the park I played baseball on. Everybody knew everybody and kept everybody in line.”

Ernie Banks was a gifted athlete even as a youth. By his teenage years, he lettered in three sports at Dallas’s Booker T. Washington High School. Surprisingly, these sports did not include baseball. As captain of the football team, he scored twenty-two touchdowns his junior and senior years. In track, Banks high-jumped more than six feet, long-jumped nineteen feet, and ran the 440-yard dash in fifty-one seconds. He averaged fifteen points per game in basketball in an era when entire teams averaged only forty. Indeed, in 1951, while serving in the Army at Fort Bliss, Texas, Banks played briefly with the Harlem Globetrotters. In his autobiography, Banks recalls that Abe Saperstein (founder of the Globetrotters and a native Chicagoan) was the first white man he ever sat beside.

Few Cub fans realize that perhaps the key element in Banks’s career was religion. He is the first to acknowledge that in his childhood family, “the Bible was the book of choice.” They were members and regular participants at St. Paul’s Methodist Church in Dallas. The devotional habits of Banks’s mother and father taught him to “live by your word,” a lesson he still keeps in the forefront of his mind. “Your word is your bond,” insists Banks. “Things like that kind of stuck in my mind. I mean what I say, and I say what I mean.”

The seventeen-year-old Banks was playing softball for his church team when he was “discovered” by Bill Blair, a scout for the Kansas City Monarchs in the Negro League. “Bill Blair was a friend of the family. He played in the black leagues, and so he saw me play.”

“You should play baseball,” Blair told Banks.

“I was really surprised that he would say that,” says Banks. Blair immediately tried to recruit Banks, urging him to join the nearby Amarillo Colts.

Banks replied that he could do it only with his parents’ permission.

Banks vividly remembers the scene as he walked into his house with Blair.

“I’d like to take Ernie out to Amarillo and play baseball, and we’ll take good care of him,” Blair promised Banks’s parents.

Banks recalls that his parents replied almost in unison: “Make sure you get him back so he can go to school.”

Banks played briefly with Amarillo before joining the Monarchs in 1950, a team whose alumni included Jackie Robinson and Satchel Paige. Three years later, he was offered a $15,000 annual contract by the Chicago Cubs.

On September 17, 1953, Ernie Banks became the first African American to play for the Cubs. Soon after, he was the starting shortstop. Banks thus began a Hall-of-Fame career without ever playing high school, college, or minor league baseball.

Mae Jemison.

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While Ernie Banks was hitting home runs in Wrigley Field, Mae Carol Jemison was born on October 17, 1956, in Decatur, Alabama. She was the youngest of Charles and Dorothy Jemison’s three children. Charles Jemison was a roofer, carpenter, and eventually the maintenance supervisor at United Charities of Chicago, the latter a post he held for almost thirty years. Dorothy Jemison was an elementary school teacher. When discussing her parents, Jemison gratefully remembers that her parents “did not push. They facilitated. I was never spoon-fed anything.” She vividly remembers that whenever she inquired about spelling a word, her parents pointed her to the dictionary.

“Then I’d have to sit there for five to ten to fifteen minutes sounding it out, trying to find it before I would get the help I needed.” Jemison notes that there were few topics the family did not debate. “Nothing was ever considered over our heads,” she remembers. “There was never any question about our intellectual capacity to deal with things.”

Neither Jemison or Banks expected to embark on their eventual careers.

Banks bluntly confesses that professional sports was the farthest thing from his mind. “I said to myself one night, ‘I’d like to become a lawyer, an international lawyer and go to Harvard. That’s what I really want to do.’

That was my big dream. And I was trying to figure out ways to get there.

How am I going to get there? And I came to the conclusion, possibly baseball might be the only vehicle that would help me get there.” In fact, sports made little impression on the young Banks. “Baseball was not really the focal point in my life because there was no major league team in Dallas, only a minor league team. I couldn’t relate to these players. There was no TV to see them, and I didn’t listen to any of the games on the radio.”

Similarly, Jemison never intended to be a physician, much less an astronaut. Before attending Stanford University, she concedes, “I never thought about going to medical school. I planned on doing a Ph.D. in biomedical engineering.” But her engineering professors and a physician warned her “that M.D.s [medical doctors] are kind of tough to get along with, and if you can get an M.D., then you should get it because you’re going to be around M.D.s all the time.” Realizing that medical training would enable her to lead research projects, Jemison concluded that it was “a good degree to have.”

For Banks, the Negro Leagues served as his “college.” Banks was emblematic of a generation of Negro League players who went on to become major league all-stars: Willie Mays (Birmingham Black Barons), Hank Aaron (Indianapolis Clowns), Roy Campanella (Baltimore Elites), and Elston Howard (Kansas City Monarchs), among others. Banks even toured with the Jackie Robinson Major League All-Star team that barnstormed for a month at the end of the regular seasons in 1950 and 1955.

Banks has fond memories of the Negro Leagues, where players were more like a family than teammates. “You really cared about the other people that were you playing with.” For Banks, playing in Kansas City was like growing 56 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

This photograph from the Chicago American shows Ernie Banks at bat for the Chicago Cubs in 1958.

up in Dallas. “Everything was convenient. The closeness was there with my family in Dallas and the neighborhood and all that; in Kansas City, closeness with the team and the people who followed the League.” In looking back nearly half a century, Banks concludes that “that was the beginning of my life.” Negro League baseball not only took Banks out of Dallas, it kept him “on the move. I always felt that moving and traveling expands one’s mind. To see this new city [Kansas City] and to be around experienced people—this has always been a part of my life.”

Significantly, Banks remembers that “I’ve always been around people ten years older than me, a decade older.”

Experienced managers and senior players like Buck O’Neal of the Monarchs and Gene Baker of the Cubs protected the young Banks, especially from the dangers and insults tolerated in a segregated, “Jim Crow” America. “There were places these guys knew, so I wasn’t concerned about the differences between black and white, because they knew all the places.” Banks even remembers a few occasions when “we played some of the white teams, and in some of the areas where they had Ku Klux Klans and those kind of folk.” His older teammates “knew what to avoid, and if I ran into some confrontation, they always worked it out. I wouldn’t have to deal with that.”

Major league baseball was a considerable contrast from the Negro Leagues.

Banks remembers that things were “spread out a little bit more: different players, different communities, different cultures, different areas.” While legal segregation was identified with the South, Chicago was hardly a racial paradise. “The team concept was that you played with the white players, but you lived apart,” remembers Banks.

“Like me and Gene [Baker], we lived south, most of the players lived north, but we played together.” The young African American rookie was warmly greeted by teammates like home-run hitters Hank Sauer and Ralph Kiner, but probably would not have been so warmly welcomed in the neighborhoods where these players lived. Banks lived in the “Black Belt” in Chicago’s South Side, at 8123 South Michigan Avenue from 1955 to 1958 and then in a large house in the West Chesterfield neighborhood at 8159 South Rhodes Avenue.

Banks now recognizes that this was unsurprising at the time. “You’ve got a lot of players from the South and very few blacks. It was not as multicultured as I had anticipated. They had a few players from Puerto Rico and from Latin American countries, but most of the players were from the South and West.”

On one occasion, the Cubs were traveling to St. Louis by train. The team left from downtown Chicago, but Banks and Gene Baker boarded the train at the Sixty-third Street Station. Banks remembers that “some of the players were walking by. They saw me and Gene get on the train, and said, ‘Where are we stopping, at South Africa?’”

An aerial view of the Cubs’ Wrigley Field in 1951, two years before Banks joined the team. Photograph by Calvi C. Oleson.

Making History | 57

In an age when professional African American athletes are commonplace, many forget that major league baseball was slow to integrate. When Banks first stepped onto Wrigley Field in 1953 (six years after Jackie Robinson broke the racial barrier), there were only twenty blacks on seven major league teams; by 1957, only thirty-six on fourteen teams. The Philadelphia Phillies and Boston Red Sox did not sign a black player until 1959. In 1946, when it appeared Jackie Robinson was about to join the Brooklyn Dodgers, Cub owner Phil Wrigley co-authored a report urging that blacks be excluded from major league baseball. When put to a vote, it passed fifteen to one; only Branch Rickey of the Dodgers dissented. The documents were then destroyed, only to be revealed by former baseball commissioner Happy Chandler in 1980s.

Banks, however, embodied more than just racial change. Along with Willie Mays and Hank Aaron, Banks represented a new kind of player: powerful home run hitters who were also fast baserunners and excellent fielders. Banks retired with the most home runs by a shortstop in history (293), including the most in a single season (47 in 1958). But often forgotten in Banks’s resume of accomplishments are his Gold Glove fielding awards at both shortstop and first base. In 1959, Banks set fielding records of fewest errors (12) and highest fielding percentage (.875) for a shortstop. African Americans may have been few in number, but players like Banks dominated major league baseball after Jackie Robinson began playing at Brooklyn’s Ebbets Field. From 1947 to 1960, blacks won nine Most Valuable Players awards and an equal number of Rookie-of-the-Year awards. In the forty-five years after Robinson broke the color line, twenty-six of the National League’s Most Valuable Players were African American, as were twenty-nine batting champions, and twenty-one home run leaders.

By the time Jemison’s family arrived in Chicago, African Americans were successfully challenging many of the discriminatory practices that confronted Banks. Her family first lived in Englewood, and she attended The Growing Years nursery school. Shortly thereafter, the Jemisons moved to 6507 South Drexel Avenue in Woodlawn. “That’s where most of my memories from Chicago are,” she fondly recalls. Jemison attended the McCosh School at Sixty-fifth and Champlain Streets, Alexander Dumas School at 6650 South Ellis Avenue and Esmond School at 1865 West Montvale Avenue. Jemison took ceramics and art classes at a branch of Hull-House on South Eberhart Avenue.

When she moved from Dumas to Esmond, Jemison skipped a grade. Her teacher thought “it was a waste for me to be in seventh grade.” Esmond, Jemison remembers, had two eighth-grade classes: “the ‘smart’ eighth-grade class and the ‘slower’ eighth-grade class, which included the ‘smart’ seventh graders. And the principal in all his wisdom put me in the slow eighth-grade class. I lucked out because the teacher of that class was very enthusiastic about science and math, and so it worked out okay for me.”

58 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

Chicagoans marching in 1963 to commemorate the tragic death of three children in the bombing of a black church in Birmingham, Alabama, during the Civil Rights movement. Mae Jemison remembers her family frequently discussing civil rights issues during her childhood. Photograph by James M. Hall.

Jemison speaks highly of her Chicago education. “I had very good experiences in the public school systems, and the shameful part of it is, they’ve changed so much. I recognize now that there were things that I didn’t get in Chicago public schools that I really didn’t recognize until after I had been at Stanford for a while. But what I did get there were these wonderful teachers, from Mrs. Conway, my third grade teacher, who was very excited about me; my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Gray, who ended up being principal of Alexander Dumas for awhile; and also Mrs. Miller, my sixth grade teacher who was just really wonderful. Their enthusiasm about me, for me, was something that’s invaluable for the future. Regardless of what kind of curriculum is there in front of you, the one thing that’s probably most clear is that children have a tendency to live up or down to your expectations.”

In 1967, when she was eleven years old, the Jemison family moved to Morgan Park on Chicago’s Southwest Side. “We were the ‘first black family on the block,’ and the block eventually changed over [to primarily African American]. But to me, it seemed like everyone got along fine.” The stimulus for the move was a long-time Chicago problem. “My mother really wanted to move out of Woodlawn because she was afraid for my brother, because of the gangs that were there,” recalls Jemison. “He was fourteen or fifteen years old, and she was very concerned about his safety and what he’d need to do. My father had already let him know that there was no way in the world he could ever be in a gang. They were just not having it.”

Jemison was especially influenced by her father in unexpected ways. “From very early on, people might say that I was very much of a feminist as a little girl. Sometimes I attribute it to the fact that I hung out with my father a lot, and my father was a very macho, masculine guy. But I was his daughter. He’d comb my hair, he’d cook, he took care of me, because he worked in the afternoons and night, and my mother worked during the daytime. Here was this guy who’d hunt and fish and who was a painter and construction person and carpenter, and he’d teach me how to do these things.” Jemison socialized with her father’s male friends, who proved to be encouraging and enthusiastic. “So how could I be intimidated or afraid of them, or anything else?”

Jemison is more critical of her experience at Stanford University, which she attended on a National Achievement Scholarship. “It wasn’t until I actually Mae Jemison adjusts a strap on her launch and entry suit prior to bailout exercises during training at the Johnson Space Center.

Making History | 59

got into college that I started really running into teachers who were not as excited about me.” At Stanford, Jemison confronted professors who, as she describes it, “had another approach.” In retrospect, Jemison insists that “one of the things that happens with women and minorities going into science fields is that they come into the university very enthusiastic. But a lot of professors, as white males, don’t see these women or these minority students as their colleagues—whether it’s conscious or unconscious. So they have a tendency not to put in the same time and effort into you or to acknowledge your questions or anything like that.” Consequently, many potential scientists move into other fields. “You don’t get mentored,” explains Jemison. “You still like to have professors think that you at least have potential. I found that as I was going through Stanford my freshman year, the places where the professors [wanted] to be engaged in conversation with me ended up being in the social sciences.” Consequently, Jemison double majored in African and African-American Studies along with chemical engineering.

After graduating from Stanford in 1977, Jemison spent the next four years at Cornell–New York Hospital in New York City earning her medical degree.

In 1981–82, she completed her internship at Los Angeles County–University of Southern California Medical Center. When comparing her astronaut and physician training, Jemison emphatically states that “medical school was tougher.” By comparison, her NASA experience “was a piece of cake.”

Despite the rigors of medical school, Jemison found time to travel to Cuba, Kenya, and Thailand, working in a Cambodian refugee camp in the latter. “I found that I just loved primary care medicine in developing countries. I learned a lot about myself. I enjoyed the travel and tropical medicine. And I found that I was not crazy about tertiary care, sitting and working in intensive 60 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

Jemison harked back to her Chicago roots during her spaceflight, holding a satellite conference from space in which she answered questions from Chicago students gathered at the Museum of Science and Industry.

care units. It just didn’t do anything for me, but I loved being out in the field and working. So I made a decision to do that kind of work.”

Jemison then served as a Peace Corps medical officer in Sierra Leone and Liberia from 1982 to 1985. The Peace Corps was “wonderful for a medical person,” Jemison says. “It’s incredibly interesting. Unfortunately, the volunteers had a tendency not to believe you when you told them about all these nasty things that kill people in developing countries, [with which] they can also get infected.” This “made for exciting medicine, [because often they would get infected] and then they would believe you. You told them over and over again that some of the diseases may seem benign, but they could be very vicious.” Like her medical internship, Jemison describes her work experience in Sierra Leone as “pretty tough physically” and “intellectually challenging.”

Likewise, Ernie Banks had an iron-man reputation. He still holds the record for most consecutive games from the start of a major league career (424) and his streak of 717 was the longest for an active player during his time. Four different times in 1958, after being either hit or knocked down with a pitch, he hit the next pitch for a home run. He didn’t wear a batting helmet until 1962. At the height of his career, Banks not only set the major league standard for home runs by a shortstop in 1955 (44) and 1958 (47), and career and seasonal (5) grand slam records; from 1955 to 1960, he slugged more home runs than anyone in professional baseball, including Mickey Mantle, Willie Mays, and Hank Aaron. Most baseball experts consider Banks to be the second-best hitting shortstop of all time, after Honus Wagner.

At the end of his career, Banks was voted the greatest Cub player of all time by the fans and named Chicagoan of the year by the Chicago Press Club.

Like most Chicagoans, Banks and Jemison were affected by the racial turmoil of the 1960s. Being the best-known athlete and arguably the most visible African American in Chicago put Banks in an awkward position. “We were there but we were not there,” Banks remembers. Professional athletes simply “didn’t get involved in the marches and demonstrations because we were in baseball. Our life was in baseball. We knew [racial strife] was going on, but had no involvement in it.” Black entertainers like Nat King Cole, Lionel Hampton, Eartha Kitt, and Pearl Bailey urged Banks to lead by example.

“Their message to those of us in baseball [was to] keep playing baseball.

People are watching you, [so] just keep playing, just keep hitting the ball.”

While Banks supported aggressive efforts by African Americans in search of employment and other opportunities, he was critical of violence. “There are certain things that you have to fight for, not by looting or burning, but by letting society know that you will demand your rights and will use every legal means to get them,” he argues. “I don’t agree with the guys that say in order to find pride in your blackness you have to hate everything that is white. That’s just plain wrong. We shouldn’t hate anybody. If you want to get a good job, or get into business, you’ve got to live with other people including the white ones.”

The 1987 astronaut class, including Mae Jemison (right), experiencing brief moments of “microgravity” during a training flight in the KC-135 NASA 930 aircraft.

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Banks even risked his popularity by running for alderman of the Eighth Ward in 1963 under the campaign motto of “Put a slugger into City Hall.”

Despite the encouragement of Harold Rainville, administrative assistant to U.S. Senator Everett M. Dirksen, and endorsements from Alderman John Hoellen of the Forty-seventh Ward and Republican city clerk candidate Emmett F. Byrne, Banks only received 12 percent of the vote. In retrospect, Banks believes that “my timing in that was a little bit off. My timing was good in baseball. My timing was a little bit off in that.” Banks, however, has no laments over the defeat. “I don’t regret doing it.”

Chicago’s Eighth Ward at the time was represented by a white alderman, but was evolving from a majority white to a majority black ward. “Change is hard,” Banks admits. “It’s the most difficult thing in the world for most people to change. It’s very, very hard, it’s very frightening, it’s very threatening. There’s a saying that I use with people I know: when you’re green, you grow, and when you’re ripe, you rot. But lots of folks are not going to change.

They won’t change. They won’t work to change.” Banks found that his suc62 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

In spite of his popularity as a ball player, Ernie Banks failed to unseat the incumbent alderman in his ward when he ran for office in 1963.

cess and popularity in baseball proved of little value in an electoral contest.

“You can be popular in one thing, but when it comes to politics, it’s just a whole different arena. Because there are people that say that they like you and admire your play, but when it comes to voting, they’re committed to certain things.”

Family discussions in Jemison’s household frequently addressed political controversies. “What does civil disobedience mean? Is nonviolent civil disobedience the only way to go?” These were only a few questions the family pondered. “Probably part of the reason I do the work I do now rather than [just] work in a chemistry lab is because I was always very aware about the politics and what was going on in the world. That was a prerequisite with us.” Those discussions are still a fundamental part of her personal outlook.

Now as then, she feels that “it was unfair that one segment of society might feel that it had dominion over another.”

Jemison gained overnight attention and fame in June 1987, when she became one of fifteen astronauts selected from more than nineteen hundred applicants. Her class represented the first trainees chosen after the fatal explosion of the Challenger in January 1986. Furthermore, Jemison was the only successful candidate between 1984 and 1987 without close ties to the military or NASA. In 1978, thirteen of the twenty new astronauts came from industry, universities, or medical institutions, but after 1980, few “outsiders” were chosen. This astonished Jemison. “I didn’t know, and it wasn’t until I actually got to NASA that I recognized that I was the only one who wasn’t affiliated with NASA or in the military in my class. And I was pretty shocked about that.”

Jemison was even more surprised by the insular vanity of many military officials. “Surgeons are particularly arrogant, so I couldn’t even imagine anyone having more confidence in themselves and looking down on folks— [even] on physicians!” Yet, Jemison found some graduates of the military academies disdainful of the “inferior” education she received at Stanford. “I just never ran into that before.”

Jemison flew into space as a mission specialist on STS-47, Spacelab-J, the space shuttle Endeavor on September 12-19, 1992, the fiftieth shuttle mission and a joint venture between NASA and Japan. Her training included equipping space shuttles for launch, preparing launch payloads and thermal protection systems, and verifying the integrity and performance of shuttle computer software. On her flight, however, Jemison conducted experiments on motion sickness and its prevention, as well as fertilizing frog embryos in order to study bone cell loss in a gravityless environment. Near the end of the mission, she conducted a satellite conference with Chicago’s Museum of Science and Industry while in space on September 16, 1992.

Both Banks and Jemison embarked on other careers after leaving the ones that made them famous. Even before he retired in 1971, Banks served on the boards of Jackson Park Hospital, LaRabida Sanitarium, Glenwood Home for Boys, the Metropolitan YMCA, the Joint Negro Appeal, the Woodlawn Boys Club, the Chicago Rehabilitation Institute, and the Big Brothers. Banks was a partner in the first Ford automobile franchise ever awarded to an African American. After 1971, Banks briefly worked in the Cub farm system as a batting instructor and first base coach of the Cubs. When he finally left organized baseball, Banks assumed executive positions for the Seaway National Bank and the Bank of Ravenswood. Since 1990, he has been involved with World Children’s Baseball Fair, a foundation based in Hollywood and Tokyo and designed to bring together children from all over the world to play baseball. He was vice president of Compensation Resource Groups, helping Making History | 63

develop executive benefit packages for corporations. Furthermore, he founded Ernie Banks International, a multinational sports marketing company, as well as the Ernie Banks Live Above and Beyond Foundation to raise money for charitable causes. Banks has been a spokesperson for United for Seniors in Cook County and World Van Lines.

Jemison grew restless at NASA. “There’s eight days out of those six years I was up in space,” she relates.

“During those six years, I learned a lot. But I had to consider what new things I would learn [if I continued].

Was I using those things that I learned in the most expansive pattern I could? Was I able to use my creativity? Was I able to contribute? You have to be willing to find another place to go.”

Jemison finally left NASA and founded the Jemison Group, Inc., in Houston to research and develop advanced technologies for the improvement of life, particularly in developing countries. “I’m someone who wants new challenges. I want to know that I’m using my time to my best ability. I didn’t feel like I was necessarily doing that [at NASA]. I wasn’t as creative as I wanted to be, and that’s really important to me.”

Jemison’s earlier experience in Africa and Asia proved critical in redirecting her career. She combined her expertise in advanced technology issues with her interest in developing countries. “I realized you could do both,” Jemison said. “It just depends on how you apply your information. A lot of the projects that I do are based on my knowledge of developing countries and advanced technology, and feeling comfortable in the social sciences and the physical sciences.” The Jemison Group, in effect, serves as a bridge among scientists, policy-makers, and implementers of technology. “This kind of consulting work allows us to look at the true circumstances of where you’re going to place the technology. What is the real user environment? What are the cultural issues, the social and political/economic issues?” Jemison works to “design the technology to fit those circumstances.”

Like former Enrico Fermi Making History Award recipient (1995) and Nobel Laureate Leon Lederman, Jemison has become one of the nation’s foremost advocates of science education. In 1992, she played an integral role in creating Mae Jemison Academy, a science-magnet elementary school in Detroit, Michigan. A year later, Jemison joined the faculty of the environmental studies program at Dartmouth College. Almost immediately, she established the Jemison Institute for Advancing Technology in Developing Countries. More recently, she founded an international science camp “The Earth We Share,” which first met in 1994 at Choate-Rosemary Hall in Connecticut and then in 1995 at United Charities Camp Algonquin, a 115-acre site along the Fox River in Algonquin, Illinois.

Jemison contends that the United States sorely needs such programs. Compared to her own experience, public schools now “put children and teachers in untenable situations, and those situations are large classroom sizes.” As schools abolish art, music, and intramural sports, Jemison argues, they elim64 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

At the 1997 Making History Awards Mae Jemison stands with CHS President and Director Doug Greenberg (left), and CHS Board member Phil Hummer.

inate ways of attracting students. “Curriculums before always had art classes, they always had music, they always had gym, as well as the sciences. To take that away and then expect kids to maintain their interest is ridiculous.”

For Jemison, the camp provides a unique vehicle to transform the way youths perceive science and thereby fight science illiteracy.

In reflecting upon their many and diverse experiences, Banks and Jemison concur that they were blessed with caring families in a city with unique possibilities. Jemison recognizes that the way her parents simultaneously encouraged and challenged her was critical to her later success. She bluntly admits that she “lucked out in a lot of ways.” For Banks, Chicago offered rare and unexpected opportunities. “I look at most of the things that happened to me like [they were] a miracle,” he admits. “And I believe in miracles.”

I L L U S T R AT I O N C R E D I T S | 54, Courtesy of the Negro Baseball League Museum; 55, Courtesy of Mae Jemison; 56, CHS, ICHi-24208; 57, CHS, ICHi-20873; 58, CHS, ICHi-03615; 59, Courtesy of NASA S92-31801; 60, from Chicago Tribune, Sept. 17, 1992, Tribune photo by John Kringas, courtesy of the Chicago Tribune; 61, Courtesy of NASA S87-44950; 62, From Chicago Daily News, Feb. 4, 1963, CHS, Barnett papers, Box 396; 64, CHS; 65, CHS; 65 top, CHS; 65 bottom: bookjacket from Mr. Cub (1971).

Ernie Banks pauses for a photograph with Board member Charles Brumback at the Making History Awards.

The heart of the North Side ball club for many years, Ernie Banks earned the nickname, “Mr. Cub,” which he used as the title for his autobiography.

Errata: The image on page 69 in the “Making History” article in the Summer 1998 issue of Chicago Histor y should be identified as being from the January 29, 1978, Chicago Sun-Times.

F O R F U RT H E R R E A D I N G | Anyone interested in Ernie Banks should begin with his autobiography Mr. Cub, written with Jim Enright (Chicago: Follett, 1971). Biographies include Peter C. Bjarkman, Ernie Banks (New York: Chelsea House, 1994); Bill Libby, Ernie Banks: Mr. Cub (New York: Putnam, 1971); and the chapter on Ernie Banks in Phillip T. Drotning and Wesley W. South, eds., Up From the Ghetto (New York: Cowles, 1970). On the Cubs, see Jerome Holtzman and George Vass, The Chicago Cubs Encyclopedia (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1997). On the social importance of baseball, see Elliott J. Gorn and Warren Goldstein, A Brief History of American Sports (New York: Hill and Wang, 1993). Important articles on Jemison appear in the Chicago Tribune, October 16, 1992; New York Times, August 17, 1987, September 13, 1992, March 3, 1993; Los Angeles Times, August 5, 1987; and Ebony, December 1992. Darlene Clark Hine, ed., Black Women in America (New York: Carlson, 1993), 633–34, has an entry on Jemison. On the history of the space program, see Walter A. McDougall, The Heavens and the Earth: A Political History of the Space Age (New York: Basic Books, 1985).

Timothy J. Gilfoyle teaches American history at Loyola University Chicago and is the author of City of Eros: New York City, Prostitution and the Commercialization of Sex, 1790–1920 (W.W. Norton, 1992).

He is a John Simon Guggenheim Foundation Fellow for 1998–99.

Making History | 65

Index to Volume 27 This index includes author, title, and subject entries. Illustrations are indicated in italics. If a subject is illustrated and discussed on the same page, the illustration is not separately indicated.

A Abbott, Robert, and woman’s suffrage, 2:17 Abraham Lincoln–Frederick Douglass Center, 2:23 Adams, Myron B., suggests 1933 world’s fair, 2:46 Adams, Rosemary K., “From the Editor,” 1:3, 2:3, 3:3 Addams, Jane, 2:5, 6, 34; and woman’s suffrage, 2:16 Adler Planetarium, 1:42; and A Century of Progress, 2:47 African Americans: and housing, 1:64; and Chicago Public Schools, 1:67; protesting discrimination, 2:4–25; women’s clubs, 2:4–25; Republican Party, 2:16; discrimination in employment, 2:21; and savings clubs, 2:23–25; migrants settle on West Side, 2:33; discrimination against at A Century of Progress, 2:50; and “firsts,” 3:54. See also Civil Rights Movement; Lynching, campaigns against; Race riots; Segregation, in Chicago Alba Rose Club, 2:17 Alexander Dumas School, 3:58 All the President’s Men (movie), 3:51 Alloha Suffrage Club, 2:16 Alpha Suffrage Club, 2:12, 15, 16 Altgeld, John P.: and Juvenile Court, 3:7; Our Penal Machinery and Its Victims, 3:7; elected governor, 3:8 Amarillo Colts (Negro League baseball team), 3:55 American Petroleum Institute, 2:71 American Social Hygiene Association, on Sally Rand, 2:55 American Union of Decorative Artists and Draftsmen, 2:50 American Women’s Volunteer Service, Chinatown branch, 1:48 Amoco Building (formerly the Standard Oil Building), 2:67 Andrews, Wayne, Battle for Chicago, 3:49 Antilynching campaigns. See Lynching, campaigns against Architecture: balloon-frame construction, 1:11–12; skyscrapers, 1:12–14; at A Century of Progress, 2:48–51 “Ardis Krainik: In Memoriam,” Making History, by Timothy J. Gilfoyle, 1:56–58 Art Institute of Chicago, 1:27, 2:4–5; Women’s Board, 2:64 Ashland Avenue, 2:27, 3:40 Ashland Block, 1:12, 13 Assembly line techniques, in 1890s, 1:10 Atwood, Charles, 1:30

B Baker, Gene, 3:57 Balloon-frame construction, popularity of, 1:11–12 Banks, Eddie, 3:55 Banks, Ernie, 1:69, 3:54–65; education, 3:55; baseball statistics, 3:58, 61; runs for alderman, 3:62; jobs outside baseball, 3:63 Banks, Essie, 3:55 Banning, Ephraim, 3:10, 11 Barnes, Albert C., and Juvenile Court, 3:19 Barnes, Helen Howell, 2:53 66 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

Baseball: Negro Leagues, 3:55, 56; and segregation, 3:57, 58.

See also names of individual teams, leagues, and players Battle for Chicago, Wayne Andrews, 3:49 Baxter International, 1:59, 61, 62; medical innovations, 1:65–66 Beadle, George, 2:69 Beauty contests, at A Century of Progress, 2:52, 53 Bell, Col. James, director of operations at A Century of Progress, 2:54 Bellamy, Ralph, 3:42–43 Belle of Ottawa (boat), 3:28 Bennett, Edward, 1:41; and Plan of Chicago, 1:26, 31 Berkeley free speech movement, 3:51 Bernstein, Carl, 3:51 Billiken Hoop and Needle Club, 2:16 Binford, Jessie L., on A Century of Progress, 2:55 Birth of a Nation (movie), 2:22, 23 Bishop, Mrs. L. S., and woman’s suffrage, 2:16 Blair, Bill, scouts Ernie Banks, 3:55 Bliven, Bruce, on A Century of Progress architecture, 2:48 Blount, Dr. Anna, and woman’s suffrage, 2:16 Blue Island Avenue, 2:32 Board County and City School, 3:16–17 Bocage, Adolphe, on 1890s Chicago, 1:9, 14 Boehm, Lisa Krissof, “The Fair and the Fan Dancer: A Century of Progress and Chicago’s Image,” Yesterday’s City, 2:42–55 Bohemia Club, 3:44 “Bohemians,” and journalism, 3:44, 48 Booth, Mrs., and woman’s suffrage, 2:16 Boston Store, 1:19 Bourget, Paul, on Union Stock Yards, 1:10 Bowen, Louise de Koven, 2:5 Brickhouse, Jack, 3:51 Bridewell Penitentiary, 2:12 Bridewells. See Jails Bridgeport (neighborhood), 3:24, 27 Bridges: swing, 1:18; rolling lift, 3:39 Bright New City (lecture series), 2:56, 64, 71 Broad Ax (newspaper), on Fannie Barrier Williams, 2:10 Bruce, Mrs. Blanche K., 2:10 Brumback, Charles, 3:65 Bubbly Creek, 3:38, 40 Buckingham, Kate, 1:38 Buckingham Fountain, 1:22–23, 26, 38, 39, 40–41 Buenger, Theodore Ernst, 2:27 Bundy, Dr., inhumane treatment of, 2:19 Burnham, Daniel, and Plan of Chicago, 1:26, 30 Burns, Walter, 3:49 Burns, Wilbur, Front Page character, and Chicago Press Club, 3:51 Burroughs, Nannie, 2:10 Business practices, in 1890s America, 1:4–21 Butcher, Fanny, 3:51 Byrne, Emmett F., 3:62

C Cal-Sag Channel, 3:22 Campbell, Joseph, inhumane treatment of, 2:19 Campbell family, first case in Juvenile Court, 3:14, 18 Canada geese, 3:23 Canal Street, as site of new Maxwell Street Market, 2:34 Capitalism and Freedom, by Milton Friedman, 2:68 Carmichael, John, 3:51 Case, Selon H., state senator, 3:11 A Century of Progress World’s Fair, 1:49; dancers at, 2:43, 52–55; exhibits, 2:42, 47; and Chicago’s image, 2:42–55; economic success, 2:44, 48; promotion of, 2:48; architecture of, 2:48–51; and discrimination against African Americans, 2:50. See also names of individual buildings and exhibits Cermak Road, Bridge, 3:39 Challenger (space shuttle), 3:63 Chandler, Happy, baseball commissioner, 3:58 Cherry, Fannie, 2:33 Cherry, Wiley, 2:33 Cherry family, 2:33 Chiang Kai-Shek, Madame, visit to Chicago, 1:55 Chicago: Eine Wesstadt im amerikanischen Westen, by Ernst von Hesse-Wartegg, 1:6 Chicago: Greatest Advertised City in the World, Not the Wickedest (pamphlet), by Lee Alexander Stone, 2:44 Chicago, image of, 1:4–21, 2:42–55 Chicago American, 3:22 Chicago and Cook County School for Boys, 3:19 Chicago Association of Commerce, 2:47 Chicago Bar Association, 3:12 Chicago Bulls, victory celebration, 1:43 Chicago Community Trust, 1:68, 70 Chicago Congregational Club, 3:18 Chicago Cubs: and Ernie Banks, 3:54, 55; and segregation of baseball, 3:58 Chicago Daily News: and Ben Hecht, 3:43; profitability of, 3:49 Chicago Defender, 2:17; on woman’s suffrage, 2:17; and antilynching campaign, 2:19 Chicago Drainage Canal. See Sanitary and Ship Canal Chicago Examiner, circulation war, 3:49 Chicago Federation of Women’s Clubs, 2:16 Chicago Fire, 1871, and landfill, 1:24, 27 Chicago Globe, 3:49 Chicago Hebrew Institute, 2:30–31 Chicago Herald & Examiner, and Charles A. MacArthur, 3:43 Chicago Inter Ocean, 3:8; on Juvenile Court, 3:14 Chicago Journal, on the I&M Canal, 3:22 Chicago Literary Renaissance, 3:49 Chicago Newspaper Reporter’s Association, 3:52 Chicago Plan Commission, and A Century of Progress, 2:46 Chicago Political League, 2:12 Chicago Press Club, 3:43–53; membership of, 3:44, 49; benefits of, 3:45; facilities, 3:45, 52, 53; yearbook, 3:47; underground banquet, 3:49; opens to women, 3:52; and back taxes, 3:53; closes its doors, 3:53 “The Chicago Press Club: The ‘Scoop’ behind The Front Page,” Yesterday’s City, by Richard Digby-Junger, 3:42–53 Chicago Public Schools, 3:59. See also names of individual schools The Chicago Riot (pamphlet), 2:29 Chicago River, 2:26, 38, 3:21, 24, 26, 40; lock in Lake Michigan, 3:32; reversing the flow, 3:36; South Branch, 3:40

“Chicago school” of economics, 2:56, 67, 68 Chicago Society of Professional Journalists, 3:52 Chicago Theological Seminary, 1:59 Chicago Tribune: on Plan of Chicago, 1:30; and A Century of Progress, 2:46, 47; on Sally Rand, 2:53; on Juvenile Court, 3:14; circulation war, 3:49; profitability of, 3:49 Chicago Urban League, 2:5; and antilynching campaign, 2:19 Chicago Women’s Amateur Minstrel Club, 2:17 Chicagoan of the Year, Chicago Press Club award, 3:51 “Chicago’s Front Yard,” photo essay, by Dennis Cremin, 1:22–43 Chicago’s Senior Citizen’s Hall of Fame, 1:52, 54 Children, Youth and Families Initiative of Chicago Community Trust, 1:70 Chinatown, Chicago, 1:44–55 Chinese American Civic Council, 1:49, 52 Chinese Children’s Rhythm Band, 1:55 Chinese Christian Union Church, 1:45, 54 Chinese immigrants, 1:44–55 Chinese New Year, 1:52 Chinese Women’s Club of Chicago, 1:49, 54 Christoff, Peggy Spitzer, “Women of Chinatown,” article, 1:44–55 Chung, Frances Moy, 1:48 Chung, Mansie. See O’Young, Mansie Chung Church of the Good Shepherd, 1:62, 68 Circle Campus. See University of Illinois, Chicago Campus (UICC) City government, and Ernie Banks, 3:62 City News Bureau, 3:51 Civic Opera House, 1:58 Civil Rights movement, 3:61; on West Side, 2:36; and Mae Jemison, 3:63 Cleveland, Grover, president, and Chicago Press Club, 3:46, 51 Clifford, Carrie W., 2:8 Clotee Scott Settlement, Sunday Club, 2:16 Columbia College, journalism degree, 3:53 Commonwealth Edison, 2:63 Community Renewal Society, 1:62 Congregational Church of Park Manor, 1:62 Congress Expressway. See Eisenhower Expressway Congress for Racial Equality (CORE), 2:37 Construction: and assembly line techniques, 1:11; pay for workers, 1:13–14; deaths of workers, 1:17–18 Contracts, by handshake, 1:9 Cook County Courthouse–City Hall, 3:14 Cook County tuberculosis center, 1:54 CORE. See Congress for Racial Equality (CORE) Cornell Charity Club, 2:10 Cornwell, Dean, No Place for a Nice Girl (painting), 3:53 Coterie Club, and antilynching campaign, 2:19 Cremin, Dennis H., “Chicago’s Front Yard,” photo essay, 1:22–43 Crime, 3:7 Crissey, Forrest, on A Century of Progress dancers, 2:52 Curtis, Nina T, 2:15

D Daley, Richard J., mayor, 3:51 Dallas Green Monarchs (Negro League baseball team), 3:55 Dancers, exotic, at A Century of Progress, 2:52–55 Dartmouth College, 3:54 David, Joseph B., judge, and Sally Rand, 2:54 Davis, Elizabeth Lindsay, 2:12 Index to volume 27 | 67

Dawes, Charles Gates, vice president, 2:44, 46 Dawes, Rufus, president of A Century of Progress, 2:44, 46 de Priest, Oscar, 2:7; election as alderman, 2:15, 17; founds “People’s Movement,” 2:16 de Rousiers, Paul: on the economic growth of the Midwest and West, 1:4, 7; on Union Stock Yards, 1:10; on compact size of Loop, 1:14; on lack of elegance in Chicago, 1:17 Dearborn Street, 1:14–15, 16–17 Death, attitudes toward, 1:21 Delinquency, 3:7. See also Juvenile Court Democratic National Convention, 1996, 2:38; 1968, 3:51 Department stores. See names of individual stores DePaul University, and Bright New City lecture series, 2:64 Des Plaines River, 3:21, 22 Dever, William E., mayor, 2:46 Digby-Junger, Richard, “The Chicago Press Club: The ‘Scoop’ behind The Front Page,” Yesterday’s City, 3:42–53 Dirksen, Everett M., senator, 3:51 Donoghue, George T., 2:54 Dornfeld, Arnold A. (Dorny), 3:51 Douglas, Paul, senator, 2:67, 3:51 Dreiser, Theodore, 3:49 Du Bois, W. B., 2:8 Duran, Jovita, 2:33

E An Early Encounter with Tomorrow, by Arnold Lewis, excerpted, 1:4–21 The Earth We Share (science camp), 3:64 East St. Louis, race riots, 2:19 Easter Lily Club, 2:24 “Ecumenicism and Philanthropy in Chicago: Interviews with William B. Graham and Kenneth B. Smith,” Making History,

by Timothy J. Gilfoyle, 1:59–70 Edison Company. See Commonwealth Edison Efficiency, and Chicago, 1:4–21 Eighth Ward, and Ernie Banks, 3:62 Eisenhower Expressway, 2:38–39 Ella, John W., and Juvenile Court, 3:11 Employment: and African Americans, 2:20–21, 23; of immigrants, 2:32, 33, 46–47, 48, 52, 54 Endeavor (space shuttle), 3:54, 63 Englewood (neighborhood), 3:58 Equal Rights League of Chicago, 2:20 Europeans, view of Chicago, 1:4–21 Exclusion laws, governing Chinese immigration, 1:45, 46, 47, 49, 55

F “The Fair and the Fan Dancer: A Century of Progress and Chicago’s Image,” Yesterday’s City, by Lisa Krissoff Boehm, 2:42–55 Fairbanks, Charles, 3:46 Fairview Street, 1:11 Faulkner, Mrs. G. M. of Liberia College, Africa, 2:12 Federation of Colored Women’s Clubs of Ohio, 2:8 Field Columbian Museum. See Field Museum of Natural History Field Museum of Natural History, 1:42; and A Century of Progress, 2:47; and Bright New City lecture series, 2:64 Fire. See Chicago Fire, 1871 First Immanual Day school, 2:27 First Ward, 2:12 68 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

Flower, Lucy, and Juvenile Court, 3:4, 8, 10, 14 Foin, Chin F., 1:46, 47 Foin, Mrs. Chin (Yoklund Wong), 1:45, 46–47, 54, 55 Follansbee, George A., 3:10 “For Home, Family, and Equality: African American Women’s Clubs,” 2:4–25 Forston, Bettiola, 2:16 Fort Dearborn, 3:22 Fourth Presbyterian Church, 1:47 Fox, Carol, 1:56 Frederick Douglass Center, 2:12, 20, 21 Frederick Douglass Woman’s Club, 2:12, 16 Friedman, Milton, 2:56–72; childhood, 2:58; education, 2:59, 60; and New Deal, 2:60; academic appointments, 2:61; government posts, 2:61; and John Maynard Keynes’s theory of consumption, 2:61; wins Nobel Prize, 2:61, 68; books by, 2:68; influence on economic policy, 2:68; and volunteer army, 2:68; and the “Reagan Revolution,” 2:69 Friedman, Rose, 2:68 Frink, Carol, 3:49 “From the Editor,” Rosemary K. Adams, 1:3, 2:3, 3:3 “From Wrigley Field to Outer Space: Interviews with Ernie Banks and Mae Jemison,” Making History, by Timothy J. Gilfoyle, 3:54–65 The Front Page, 3:42, 43, 49

G G. I. Bill, and journalism, 3:51 Gad’s Hill Summer Encampment, 2:21 Garden, Mary, 1:56 Garfield Park Conservatory, 2:64 Garment industry, 2:32 General Federation of Women’s Clubs, 2:12 Gentrification, 2:26 Giles Charity Club, and antilynching campaign, 2:19 Gilfoyle, Timothy J.: “Ardis Krainik: In Memoriam,” 1:56–58; “Ecumenicism and Philanthrophy in Chicago: Interviews with William B. Graham and Kenneth B. Smith,” 1:59–70; “Urban Migrants: Interviews with Milton Friedman, John Swearingen, and Mary Ward Wolkonsky,” 2:56–72; “From Wrigley Field to Outer Space: Interviews with Ernie Banks and Mae Jemison,” 3:54–65 Golden, Dr. Carrie, 2:10 Good Shepherd Manor, 1:64 Good Shepherd Tower, 1:64 Goose Lake Prairie State Park, 3:23 Gould, Chester, 3:51 Graffis, Herb, and Chicago Press Club, 3:51 Graham, William B., 1:59–70; education, 1:59; successes with Baxter International, 1:61–62; business innovations, 1:65–66; and Lyric Opera of Chicago, 1:68; trusteeships, 1:68 Grandin, Madame Leon, on railway accidents, 1:21 Grant, Cary, 3:42 Grant Park, 1:22–43; as cultural center, 1:26; as element in 1909 Plan of Chicago, 1:26; renamed, 1:26; and landfill, 1:34–35; annual events, 1:43 Great Depression, 2:59–60; and A Century of Progress, 2:42, 44; effect on Chicago Press Club, 3:51 Great Migration, 2:36 Greek immigrants, settle on West Side, 2:32 Greek Orthodox Church, Good Friday procession, 2:32 The Green Ginger Jar, by Clara Ingram Judson, 1:54 Greenberg, Douglas, 1:69, 2:56, 3:64

Gregory, S. S., and Juvenile Court, 3:8 Grimke, Francis J., reverend, 2:8 Groves, Adelaide, 3:15; and Juvenile Court, 3:8 Guarie (early settler), 2:26 Guerin, Jules, 1:31; and Plan of Chicago, 1:31–33, 36–37

H Haines School, 1:55 Hall, Mrs. George Cleveland, 2:12, 17 The Hall of Science, 2:49 Halsted Street, 2:32 Harlem Globetrotters, 3:55 Harris, Emily J., “A Meeting of the Waters,” photo essay, 3:21–41 Harrison, Carter Henry Sr., mayor, resident of West Side, 2:27 Harrison Street, 2:32 Haymarket Affair, 2:28–29 Hecht, Ben, 3:42, 49, 50, 51 Henry Horner Homes, 2:38 Herguth, Bob, and Chicago Press Club, 3:53 Hermant, Jacques, on 1890s Chicago, 1:7, 9 Heron, black crowned night, 3:24 Herriott, Justin, watercolor of Chicago River, 3:25 Hesse-Wartegg, Ernst von: Chicago: Eine Weststadt im amerikanischen Westen, 1:6; comments on 1890s Chicago, 1:18 His Girl Friday (movie), 3:42–43 Hoellen, John, alderman, 3:62 Holy Family Church, 2:27 Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Church, 2:32 Hong Kong Noodle Company, 1:49 Hopkins, Harry, 2:61 Horse cars, 1:18 Housing, and discrimination against African Americans, 2:10, 36–37, 57, 59 Houston Buffalos (Negro League baseball team), 3:55 “How high will she go?” cartoon, by John T. McCutcheon, 2:11 Howey, Walter, 3:49 Hull-House, 3:58; as common ground, 2:34 Hummer, Philip, 1:69, 3:64 Huncke, Olga, 1:45, 54–55 Hurd, Harvey B., judge, and Juvenile Court, 3:10, 11 Hurleigh, Robert F., and Chicago Press Club, 3:51 Hyde Park Center, 2:21 Hyde Park Colored Republican Club, 2:12

I Ideal Woman’s Club, 2:12, 16 Illinois, presettlement landscape, 3:21 Illinois & Michigan Canal, 3:21–41; commissioners designate lakefront as open space, 1:24–25; 3:32; National Heritage Corridor, 3:21 Illinois Central Railroad, 1:24, 41 Illinois State Reformatory, 3:11 Illinois Technical School, discrimination against African Americans, 2:21 Immigrants: settle on West Side, 2:27, 30–31; conflict between, 2:30. See also names of individual ethnic or religious groups Industrial Schools, 3:10, 11, 13 International Press Club, 3:53 Inter-Ocean. See Chicago Inter Ocean Inter-State Industrial Exposition Building, 1:24, 26 Italian immigrants, settle on West Side, 2:32

J Jackie Robinson Major League All-Star Team, 3:56 Jackson Park, site for World’s Columbian Exposition, 1:25 Jails, 3:8, 9 Jean, Helen Wong, 1:45, 48, 49, 54, 55, 52 Jean, Lena Toy, 1:49 Jean, Thomas, 1:52 Jemison, Charles, 3:56 Jemison, Dorothy, 3:56 Jemison, Mae C., 3:54–65; education, 3:56, 58; spaceflight, 3:59, 60, 61, 63; education, 3:60; Peace Corps, 3:61; as an advocate for science education, 3:64; founds Jemison Group, Inc., 3:64 Jemison Group, Inc., 3:64 Jemison Institute for Advancing Technology in Developing Countries, 3:54, 64 Jewish immigrants, Eastern European, settle on West Side, 2:30–31 Johnson, Bascom, on Sally Rand, 2:55 Johnson, Fenton, 2:16 Johnson, Hilding, reporter, 3:49 Johnson, Hildy (Front Page character), 3:49 Jolliet, Louis, 3:21, 22 Jones, Anna H., 2:8 Jones, Llewellyn, on A Century of Progress, 2:50 Jones, Minora, 2:12 Journalists: in Chicago, 3:43–53; college degrees, 3:51; on the job training, 3:51; salaries, 3:51, 52; and alcohol, 3:52–53 Judson, Clara Ingram, The Green Ginger Jar, 1:54 The Jungle, by Upton Sinclair, and Chicago’s image, 2:42 “Justice for the Child: The Beginning of the Juvenile Court in Chicago,” article, by David S. Tanenhaus, 3:4–19 Juvenile Court: established in Chicago, 3:4–19; individualized treatment, 3:16; probation staff, 3:16 Juvenile Protective Association, and A Century of Progress, 2:55 Juvenile Protective League, 2:21

K Kan, E. B., 1:47 Kansas City Monarchs (Negro League baseball team), 3:54, 55 Kelly, Edward, mayor: and A Century of Progress, 2:48; and Sally Rand, 2:54 Keynes, John Maynard, theory of consumption, 2:61 Kiner, Ralph, 3:57 King, Coretta Scott, 2:36 King, Martin Luther Jr., 2:36 Kleiman, Carol, 3:52 Know Your Chicago (lecture series), 2:56, 64, 71 Knupfer, Anne Meis, “For Home, Family, and Equality: African American Women’s Clubs,” article, 2:4–25 Krainik, Ardis, 1:56–58, 69 Kupcinet, Irv, 3:53

L La Salle, Robert Cavalier Sieur de, 3:22 Labor, activism on West Side, 2:28–29 Laflin, James Lawrence, 2:67 Lake Michigan, 1:cover; 3:20–21, 32–33 Lake Park. See Grant Park Lake Shore Drive, construction of, 1:26 Lakefront, 1:26, 3:32. See also Grant Park Index to volume 27 | 69

Landers, Ann, 1:58, 3:52 Lange, Oskar, 2:67 Lardner, Ring, 3:51 Lathrop, Julia, and Juvenile Court, 3:8, 14, 16 Lavandier, Joe, 3:51 Leadership Greater Chicago, 1:69–70 Lederer, Eppie, 1:58, 3:52 Lend Lease Administration, 2:63 Lessing, Julius, on balloon-frame construction, 1:11–12 Lewis, Arnold, “Time is Money,” article, excerpted from An Early Encounter with Tomorrow, 1:4–21 Lewis, J. Hamilton, senator, 2:19 Libby, McNeill and Company, discrimination against African Americans, 2:21, 23 Lin, Margaret, doctor, 1:45, 52–54, 53, 55 Logan, Adella Hunt, 2:8, 10 Lohr, Lenox, general manager of A Century of Progress, 2:44, 46, 47, 54 L’Oncle Sam Chez Lui, by Louis Michaud, 1:6 Loop, compact size of, 1:14, 17 Louis, Ah, 1:49 Lynching, campaigns against, 2:18–19 Lyric Opera of Chicago, 1:56–58, 63, 68; Women’s Board, 2:56, 69

M MacArthur, Charles A., 3:49; and The Front Page, 3:43 McClelland, John, 3:52 McCosh School, 3:58 McCoy-Gaines, Irene, and Birth of a Nation, 2:23 McCutcheon, John T.: “How high will she go?”, 2:11; A Century of Progress cartoon, 2:45 McDowell, Mary, 2:5, 6 McGrew, Martha, and A Century of Progress, 2:54 McKinsey, J. O., chairman of Marshall Field and Company, 2:63 Madden, Martin, congressman, 2:19; and antilynching campaign, 2:19 Madison, James, president, 3:22 Madison Street, 2:38 Mae Jemison Academy, 3:64 Majors, M. A., editor, 2:12 Making History award winners, 1:56–70; 2:56–72, 3:54–65 Mandel Brothers, 1:7 Mann, James, congressman, 2:19 Marquette, Jacques, priest, 3:22, 24 Marshall Field and Company, 1:4–5; and discrimination against African Americans, 2:21, 23; chairman dies, 1937, 2:63 Martineau, Harriet, Society in America, 3:23 Mass transit, 1:18–20 Maxwell Street Market, 2:30, 34–35; as common ground, 2:34 Medical Center District, 2:40–41 “A Meeting of the Waters,” by Emily J. Harris, photo essay, 3:21–41 Menjou, Adolphe, 3:43 Merwin, Samuel, on Chicago, 2:42 Mexican immigrants, settle on West Side, 2:33 Michaud, Louis, L’Oncle Sam Chez Lui, 1:6 Migrants, to Chicago, 2:56–72 Mississippi River, 3:21 Moley, Raymond, 2:61 A Monetary History of the United States, 1867–1960, by Milton Friedman, 2:68 70 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

Moore, William T., 3:46 Moore-Smith, Alberta, 2:20, 24 Morgan Park High School, 3:54 Morgan Park (neighborhood), 3:59 Morrison Hotel, 1:49 Mount Hope Cemetery, 3:46 Movie theaters, discrimination against African Americans, 2:23 Mumford, Lewis: on Chicago, 2:43; on A Century of Progress, 2:50 Municipal Pier. See Navy Pier Museum of Science and Industry, 3:60

N NAACP. See National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), 2:5; and antilynching campaign, 2:19 National Association of Colored Women (NACW): Department of Education, 2:8; and women’s clubs, 2:10; and antilynching campaign, 2:18–19 National Association of Equal Suffrage League, parade, 2:15 National Equal Rights League, 2:20 National Negro Business League, 2:21 National Recovery Administration (NRA), 2:60, 61–62 National Research Council, and A Century of Progress, 2:42, 47 National Resources Committee, 2:60 Navy Pier, 2:64 Negro Fellowship League, 2:16, 17, 20, 23; and antilynching campaign, 2:19 Negro Leagues. See Baseball, Negro Leagues New Deal, and jobs for economists, 2:60, 61 New Republic, on Chicago, 2:43 Newberry Avenue, 2:33 Newcomer, John C., state senator, and Juvenile Court, 3:11, 12 Newsdealers, and circulation war, 3:49 Newspaper Club of Chicago, 3:48 Newspapers: circulation war, 3:49; mergers, 3:52. See also Journalists No Place for a Nice Girl (painting), by Dean Cornwell, 3:53 Nobel Prize, won by Milton Friedman, 2:61 Northwestern University, 1:56; journalism degree, 3:51 NRA. See National Recovery Administration

O O’Brien, Pat, 3:43 O’Farrell, Molly, 1:46 Olivet Baptist Church, 2:23, 25 On, Wong, 1:49 O’Neal, Buck, 3:57 Orchestra Hall, and Bright New City lecture series, 2:64 Original Providence Baptist Church, 2:33 Orr, D., cartoons of A Century of Progress, 2:47 Our Penal Machinery and Its Victims, by John P. Altgeld, 3:7 Outer Drive. See Lake Shore Drive Overset (newsletter), 3:52 Overton, Anthony, 2:23 Overton Hygenic Company, 2:23, 24 O’Young, Henry, 1:47 O’Young, Mansie Chung, 1:45, 47, 48, 49, 52, 54, 55

P Parades, for woman’s suffrage, 2:10, 17, 14–15 Parks. See names of individual parks Pavarotti, Luciano, 1:58 Peace Corps, 3:61

Peatrie, Elia, W., 2:12 Pedestrians, 1:5, 18, 21 People’s Movement, 2:16 Peterson, Charles S., city treasurer, and A Century of Progress, 2:47 Phyllis Wheatley Club, 2:10, 16; and woman’s suffrage, 2:17 Plan of Chicago, 1909, and Grant Park, 1:26, 1:31–37 Planned Parenthood, 2:71 Poe, Edgar Allen, 3:44 Polk Street, 2:32 Presidential Towers, 2:38 Press clubs, 3:43–53 Productivity, in 1890s Chicago, 1:4–21 Progressive Negro League, 2:12, 20, 21 Progressives, 2:4–25 Prohibition, effect on Chicago Press Club, 3:49 Providence Baptist Church, 2:33 Public housing, 2:38 Public relations business, and Chicago Press Club, 3:52 Public Relations Society of America, 3:52 Public transportation, 1:18, 20–21 Purciarello, Felicia and Daniel, 2:32

R Race riots: East St. Louis, 2:19; Chicago, 1919, 2:42 Racine Street, 2:32 Railroads, 3:22; accidents, 1:20, 21; Strike of 1877, 2:29 Rainville, Harold, 3:62 Ralston, Fanny, 2:24 Rand, Sally, and fan dance, 2:42–55 Randolph, Robert Isham, 2:54; attempts to improve Chicago’s image, 2:44 Randolph Street, 1:16–17; market, 2:32 Restaurants, in turn-of-the-century Chicago, 1:7 Richmond, Virginia, 1:61 Rickey, Branch, 3:58 Roberts, J. H., 2:10 Robinson, Jackie, 3:58 “Rooting, Uprooting: The West Side,” photo essay, by Susan M. Samek, 2:26–41 Roti, Frank, alderman, 1:49 Royko, Mike, 3:51, 53 Russell, Rosalind, 3:42 Ryberg, Walter, 3:51 Rydell, Robert, World of Fairs, 2:55 Rynlciewicz, Stephen, 3:52

S Sacred Heart Academy, 2:30 St. Anselm’s Roman Catholic Church, 1:64, 68 St. Basil Greek Orthodox Church, 2:32 St. Francis of Assisi Church, 2:33 St. Stephen African Methodist Episcopal (A.M.E.) Church, 2:33 Salem, Dorothy, on woman’s suffrage, 2:17 Samek, Susan M., “Rooting, Uprooting: The West Side,” photo essay, 2:26–41 Sandburg, Carl, 3:49, 51 Sanger, Margaret, 2:70, 71 Sanitary and Ship Canal, 3:22, 31, 34, 35, 37, 40 Saperstein, Abe, 3:55 Saturday Evening Post: on Chicago, 2:42; on A Century of Progress architecture, 2:48 Sauer, Hank, 3:57 Schmidt, Martin J., 2:3

Schulz, Dr., and woman’s suffrage, 2:16 The Scoop (newsletter), 3:51 Sears Tower, 2:67 Second Ward, 2:12; elects Oscar de Priest, 2:7, 16, 17; and woman’s suffrage, 2:17 Segregation, in Chicago, 3:57, 59; protests against, 2:4–25 Shedd Aquarium, 1:42; and A Century of Progress, 2:47 Sinclair, Upton, and Chicago’s image, 2:42 Skeletal steel frame construction, 1:12–14 Skyline, Chicago, 1:22–23, 40–41, 43, 3:40–41 Skyscrapers, speed of construction, 1:12–14 Smith, Edwin Burritt, and Juvenile Court, 3:11 Smith, Emma, 2:24 Smith, Fannie E., dean of girls for Wendell Phillips School, 2:21 Smith, Kenneth B., reverend, 1:59–70, 60; education, 1:61; pastoral appointments, 1:62; and affordable housing, 1:64; on Chicago Board of Education, 1:66–67; and public school reform, 1:66–67; and ecumenicism, 1:68–69 Snowden, Joanna, 2:24, 25 Society in America, by Harriet Martineau, 3:23 South Park District, takes control of Lake Park (Grant Park), 1:26 Spencer, Mary Belle, 2:55 Springer, Elmira, 2:12 Squire, Belle, and woman’s suffrage, 2:15 Standard Oil of Indiana, 2:56, 62, 65–67. See also Amoco Building Stanford University, 3:56, 59 Starr, Ellen Gates, 2:34 Starr, Merritt, Juvenile Court, 3:11 State Home for Juvenile Female Offenders, 3:11 State Street, bridge, 3:26 Stead, William T., on railroads, 1:21 Stevenson, Adlai Jr., 3:51 Stevenson Expressway, 3:37 Stewart, Ella S., and woman’s suffrage, 2:16 Stigler, George, 2:67 Stone, Edward Durrell, architect of Amoco Building, 2:67 Stone, Lee Alexander: attempts to improve Chicago’s image, 2:44; Chicago: Greatest Advertised City in the World, Not the Wickedest (pamphlet), 2:44 Stone, Melville E., 3:45 Streetcars, 1:18 Streets of Paris (at A Century of Progress), 2:52–55, 55 Suffragettes. See Woman’s suffrage Sullivan, Dennis E., 3:13 Sullivan, Leon, reverend, 1:64 Sun Life Assurance Company, 1:47, 49 Swearingen, John, 2:56–72; education, 2:59, 62; and Standard Oil of Indiana, 2:62, 65; becomes chair of American Petroleum Institute, 2:71 Swift and Company, 1:8–9

T Tanenhaus, David S., “Justice for the Child: The Beginning of the Juvenile Court in Chicago,” 3:4–19 Taxi dancers, at A Century of Progress, 2:52–53 Taylor Street, 2:32 Tervalon, Charlotte and Masces, 2:19 Texas Wholesale Grocery Corporation, 3:55 A Theory of Consumption Function, by Milton Friedman, 2:68 Thompson, William, mayor, 2:23; and A Century of Progress, 2:47 “Time is Money,” article, by Arnold Lewis, 1:4–21 Index to volume 27 | 71

Traffic, 1:17–20 Transportation, deaths caused by, 1:17, 18, 21 Travel and Transport Building, 2:48 Treasury, Department of the, and Milton Friedman, 2:61 Trinity Church, 1:62 A Trip to Chicago: What I Saw, What I Heard, What I Thought, by Martindale C. Ward, 1:6 Trout, Grace Wilbur, and woman’s suffrage, 2:16 Truman, Harry, president, and Chicago Press Club, 3:51 Tuberculosis, 1:54 Tugwell, Rex, 2:61 Tuthill, Richard S., judge, 3:15, 16; and Juvenile Court, 3:14, 18 Twain, Mark, and Chicago Press Club, 3:44–45 Twelfth Street, 2:27 Twentieth Century Penny Club, 2:24

U UIC. See University of Illinois, Chicago Campus Union Park, 2:27, cover; as common ground, 2:34 Union Stock Yards, 3:38; and assembly line techniques, 1:10 United Center, 2:38 United Charities of Chicago, 3:56 University of Chicago, 1:59, 2:68, 69; economics department, 2:56, 67; Women’s Board, 2:56; hires Milton Friedman, 2:61 University of Illinois’ journalism degree, 3:51, Chicago Campus (UICC), 1:54, 2:38; “Urban Migrants: Interviews with Milton Friedman, John Swearingen, and Mary Ward Wolkonsky,” Making History, by Timothy J. Gilfoyle, 2:56–72 Urban renewal, 2:26

V Van Gilder, John, 2:53 Veblen, Thorstein, 2:67 Virginia Union College, 1:61

W Walker, Maggie Lena, 2:24 Ward, Aaron Montgomery, 1:38; and court battle to keep lakefront clear, 1:26 Ward, Arch, and Chicago Press Club, 3:51 Ward, J. Harris, 2:61; and Marshall Field and Company, 2:63 Ward, Martindale C., A Trip to Chicago: What I Saw, What I Heard, What I Thought, 1:6 Waring, Mary F., doctor, 2:10 Washington, Booker T., 2:10, 12, 24 Washington, Harold, mayor, and school reform, 1:66 Washington Boulevard, 2:27 Washington Park Council of Churches, 1:68 Wealth, attitudes toward, 1:7 Wells, Ida B., 2:12, 13, 21, 23; and woman’s suffrage, 2:15, 16; and antilynching campaign, 2:19; and economic support of black-owned businesses, 2:24 Wendell Phillips High School, 2:21 West Side (neighborhood), 2:26–41 West Side Tenants’ Union, 2:37 West Side Women’s Club, 2:16 WGN (radio station), 3:51 Whitechapel Club, 3:46, 48 Whiting, Indiana, and Standard Oil of Indiana, 2:62 Wilkie, Franc B., 3:45, 46 Williams, Annie, 2:7 Williams, Fannie Barrier, 2:10, 12 72 | Chicago History | Winter 1998–99

Williams family, 2:7 Winter, effect on Chicagoans, 2:71–72 Withers, Z., 2:8 Wolf Point, 3:25, 28; buildings on, 2:26 Wolkonsky, Mary Ward, 2:56–72; childhood, 2:58; education, 2:58; vice chair of American Red Cross Canteen Corps, 2:63; works for Lend Lease Administration, 2:63; starts Bright New City and Know Your Chicago lecture series, 2:64; and Lyric Opera, 2:69; and University of Chicago, 2:69; and WTTW, 2:69; and support of Planned Parenthood, 2:71 Woman’s Relief Corps, 3:4 Woman’s suffrage: and African Americans, 2:5–17; in western states, 2:10; parades for, 2:14–15, 17 “Women of Chinatown,” by Peggy Spitzer Christoff, 1:44–55 Women’s boards of cultural organizations, 2:69. See also names of individual organizations Women’s clubs: African American, 2:4–25; protest discrimination against African Americans, 2:18–23; and economic selfdetermination, 2:23–25 Women’s College Board, sponsors Know Your Chicago lecture series, 2:64 Women’s Second Ward Republican Club, 2:12 Wong, Yoklund. See Foin, Mrs. Chin Woodlawn (neighborhood), 3:58 Woodward, Bob, 3:51 Woolley, Celia Parker, 2:12, 21 Works Progress Administration, 3:55 World’s Fairs. See A Century of Progress Exposition and World’s Columbian Exposition World of Fairs, by Robert Rydell, 2:55 World’s Columbian Exposition: Congresses, 1:26; Court of Honor, 1:28–29; architecture, 2:50; exotic dancers, 2:52 World’s Congress Building, 1:27. See also Art Institute of Chicago World’s Fair News, 2:52, 54 WPA. See Works Progress Administration Wright, Frank Lloyd, and A Century of Progress, 2:50 Wrigley, Phil, and segregation in baseball, 3:58 Wrigley Building, and Chicago Press Club, 3:52, 53 Wrigley Field, 3:57 WTTW (radio and television station), 2:56, 69

Y Yarbrough, Cordelia, 2:10 Yesterday’s City: “The Fair and the Fan Dancer: A Century of Progress and Chicago’s Image,” by Lisa Krissoff Boehm, 2:42–55; “The Chicago Press Club: The ‘Scoop’ behind The Front Page,” by Richard Digby-Junger, 3:42–53 Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA), 1:61 Young Women’s Christian Association (YWCA), 2:8; Indiana Avenue Branch, 2:8–9, 18