C H I C AG O H I S T O RY Editor-in-Chief Rosemary K. Adams Associate Editors Gwen Ihnat Emily Nordstrom Designer Bill Van Nimwegen Photography John Alderson Jay Crawford
On the cover: Woman sings outside the Dallas County Courthouse, Selma, Alabama, 1965. Photograph by Declan Haun. For more of his work, see “A Compassionate Eye” beginning on page 18.
Copyright 2005 by the Chicago Historical Society Clark Street at North Avenue Chicago IL 60614-6038 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.
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THE MAGAZINE OF THE CHICAGO HISTORICAL SOCIETY
Spring 2005 VOLUME XXXIII, NUMBER 3
Contents
4 18 36
Standing Up for Gay Rights John D. Poling
A Compassionate Eye: The Photographs of Declan Haun, 1961–69 Leigh Moran and Peter T. Alter
Departments Yesterday’s City James Marten
52
Making History
66
Index to Volume 33
Timothy J. Gilfoyle
Standing Up for Gay Rights JOHN D. POLING
At a time when mainstream society did not accept gays and lesbians, Mattachine Midwest arose to fight against decades of discrimination and advance the rights of homosexuals.
I
n the summer of 1964, President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the most significant civil rights legislation since Reconstruction—the Civil Rights Act. As one of the crowning achievements of the explosive Civil Rights Movement, the act secured the rights of African Americans and outlawed employment discrimination based on race, color, sex, religion, and national origin. Such protection, however, was not afforded to America’s sexual minorities. In the 1950s and 1960s, most Americans perceived gay men and lesbians as a threat not only to the country’s moral foundation but also to the very heart of national security in the Cold War era. In the 1960s, large metropolitan areas, such as Chicago, afforded homosexuals a certain level of anonymity but did not shelter them completely from the nationwide persecution of gays. Law enforcement officials reflected the views of society’s mainstream and held little tolerance for deviant sexual behavior. In the chilly, early morning hours of Saturday, April 25, 1964, Cook County sheriff’s deputies raided the Fun Lounge, which was owned and operated by Louis Gauger at 2340 North Mannheim Road. Gauger’s, as the bar was often called, catered to Chicago’s sizable gay population but was located in an unincorporated area outside city limits, probably to avoid regular crackdowns by the Chicago Police Department. As part of a campaign promise to get tough on the county’s vice activity, Cook County Sheriff Richard Ogilvie had placed the club under surveillance. Ogilvie held particular scorn for the Fun Lounge, which he once called “too revolting to describe.” At the culmination of a three-week surveillance operation, his deputies carried out the subsequent raid and arrested more than one hundred people. While some Fun Lounge patrons did participate in criminal activity, including underage drinking and drug possession, the sheriff’s office charged most with “sexual deviancy” or as “patrons of a disorderly house.” The following day, the Chicago Tribune reported on the “powder
4 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
On Sunday, April 26, 1964, the Chicago Tribune featured frontpage coverage of the raid on the Fun Lounge. Photographs of the lounge’s manager, proprietor, and licensee accompanied the story.
puffs and lipsticks” that some men carried before mentioning the underage patrons or seized marijuana. While space prohibited the newspaper from running the names of all 109 arrested, the names of eight teachers and four municipal employees appeared in print. One of the men arrested, a junior-high teacher from Park Ridge, had already resigned before the story hit newsstands. The following month, the charges brought against those arrested were dropped, but of course, it was a bit late for those whose names had been included in the original news coverage. Bar raids occurred with regularity in Chicago and other cities across America, but the large scale of the Fun Lounge raid made it unique. It went beyond the scope of previous police raids and shook the city’s gay political scene out of hibernation. In addition to arresting 103 men, the sheriff’s department also took six women into custody. The raid touched the lives of many in the gay community and bolstered the first successful, sustained effort to organize a gay civil rights organization in Chicago—Mattachine Midwest (MM). In an interview years later, MM founder Ira Jones referred to the Fun Lounge raid as “the straw that broke the camel’s back.” Mattachine Midwest was part of the nationwide homophile or gay rights movement that was gaining momentum in urban areas across the county. The movement represented the first significant, unified effort by gay men and lesbians to fight for justice and equality and against decades of oppression and discrimination sanctioned by mainstream society. Although their numbers were small, the individuals who risked ostracism for the betterment of their population won important battles in securing civil rights for homosexuals. Their actions made the homophile movement a significant achievement, regardless of the continued debate over the movement’s effectiveness before the Stonewall Riots of June 1969. In 1965, Mattachine Midwest had what few other homophile organizations in the United States could boast—a legacy. Forty years before Mattachine’s founding, Henry Gerber, a Chicago postal clerk, founded the Society for Human Rights to fight the persecution of “those who deviated from the established norms in sexual matters.” The society was incorporated by the State of Illinois in December 1924. Gerber, a German immigrant and World War I veteran, modeled his society on homosexual rights groups that existed in Germany at the time. He believed that reforming existing legislation, which criminalized homosexuality, was one way to end gay discrimination. To this end, he wrote, printed, and distributed two newsletters, the most widespread of which was Friendship and Freedom. His campaign, however, was short lived. In July 1925, aided by a tip from the wife of a society member, the Chicago Police Department raided Gerber’s apart-
Operating as a coffeehouse, art gallery, and speakeasy, Chicago’s Dill Pickle Club (entrance pictured above) welcomed all varieties of nonconformists, including gay men and lesbians. After the club closed in the 1930s, homosexuals continued to meet at citywide costume balls into the 1940s (below).
Standing Up for Gay Rights | 5
Although his society was short lived, Henry Gerber’s ideas spurred far-reaching results. On January 1, 1962, for example, Illinois became the first state to repeal its sodomy laws. Above: The charter for the Society for Human Rights, 1924. 6 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
ment at 1710 North Crilly Court, arrested him, and confiscated his typewriter and homophile literature. Gerber eventually lost his job due to “conduct unbecoming a postal worker” and decided to reenlist in the army. He served for seventeen years and received an honorary retirement in 1945. Although the raid brought a quick end to the Society for Human Rights, its existence was not in vain. Decades later, a lanky Californian named Harry Hay learned of the society from the lover of a former member. The notion of a gay political organization appealed to Hay, who was struggling with the discrimination and danger of being a gay man. With the help of four friends, Hay built on Gerber’s idea of an organized society. The Mattachine Society, as Hay dubbed it, began in Los Angeles in 1951. Hay took the name Mattachine from Société Mattachine, a secret medieval fraternity of unmarried townsmen whose masked appearance gave them the freedom to speak the truth. Hay’s Mattachine Society extended beyond the scope of a localized group and achieved greater success than Henry Gerber could have imagined in the 1920s. By 1953, as many as two thousand gay men and lesbians met as part of various Mattachine cells throughout California, including San Diego, Los Angeles, and the San Francisco Bay area. By the mid-1950s, Mattachine Societies were organized nationwide, including chapters in New York, Denver, and Chicago. The small Chicago Mattachine chapter published a newsletter, held discussion group meetings, and volunteered to serve as subjects for a Chicago doctor who wanted to perform Rorschach tests on “non-institutionalized homosexuals”; the group urged members to take part in the test in order “to assist professional groups in filling the void of reliable data on sexual deviates.” The leading members of Chicago’s first Mattachine chapter echoed the sentiments of the California groups. They believed that hope for the integration of gays into mainstream society hinged upon support from medical and psychological experts. Experts, they believed, would make the scientific argument that sexual deviates were not a threat to society. The prevailing notion of the era was that a sexual attraction that deviated from the norm, was not only a psychological illness but also a danger to those who came in contact with the homosexual. Gay men and lesbians, it was thought, wanted to turn others into homosexuals. Thus, Chicago Mattachine members were not encouraged to speak out on their own behalf or to question the antihomosexual legal system. “It is not the function of this Society,” one member wrote in 1954, “to deplore the enforcement of enacted laws or to make subjective guesses about their justices or injustices.” While Mattachine members strove for acceptance and integration, the overriding emotion of the group remained the fear of being exposed. In such a secretive
environment, communication was a constant problem. Telephones, some with party lines, were rarely seen as safe, so most communication was done through the mail. Many of the members also used pseudonyms and often never knew the real names of their fellow members. By 1957, communication problems, along with the difficulty of recruiting new members, spelled the end of the first Chicago Mattachine chapter. These difficulties were not unique to Chicago. According to historian John D’Emilio, Mattachine groups of the late 1950s were “distressingly small in size.” Two years later, a second Chicago Mattachine group was organized. This chapter was also short lived, but it surpassed the first group in rhetoric and tone. The second group’s newsletters lashed out at newspapers that printed the names of persons arrested in bar raids. In 1960, one Mattachine writer asked the Milwaukee Journal if it planned to give the acquittals of bar patrons “as much publicity as their arrests.” The second society even had the boldness to attempt to place an advertisement in a major city newspaper to attract new members. The paper’s man-
During the 1950s, activists across the country founded Mattachine chapters. National publications, such as Mattachine Review, kept the diverse cells informed. Standing Up for Gay Rights | 7
Between the demise of Chicago’s first Mattachine Societies and the founding of Mattachine Midwest, the Daughters of Bilitis remained the city’s only gay organization. The group circulated The Ladder, the national organization’s publication (above), as well as its local newsletter (below).
agement alluded vaguely to “the nature of the society” as the reason for their rejection of the advertisement. In the fall of 1962, the chapter folded. With a life span of barely two years, the second group, similar to its predecessor, could not sustain the long-term effort needed to lay the groundwork for a successful gay political organization. Both groups, however, advanced the formation of a viable gay civil rights organization. The two previous Mattachine Societies had attracted members who would become instrumental in forming the ultimately successful Mattachine Midwest. Despite the efforts of the two Chicago Mattachine Societies, circumstances remained bleak for the city’s gay community in the early 1960s. The limited social outlets for gays, including bars and bathhouses, brought a risk of being arrested, which often meant the publication of one’s name in a city newspaper. This, in turn, could lead to the collapse of a social network or the loss of a job. In extreme cases, the pressure could lead to suicide. Those arrested had limited opportunities for recourse, and only a handful of attorneys would represent such cases. After the demise of the second Chicago Mattachine chapter, a small chapter of the Daughters of Bilitis (DOB) remained the only gay political presence in the city. Formed in San Francisco in 1955, the DOB worked to dispel society’s myths about lesbians. The DOB’s focus of validation and support was more inward than that of the Mattachine Society. The group strove to help members overcome the negative images society placed upon lesbians. Besides holding meetings, the Chicago DOB also published a member newsletter, but due to the group’s small size, there was little outreach to the rest of the city’s homosexual community. Plans for Mattachine Midwest began in earnest early in 1965 when Ira Jones, Pearl Hart, and Robert Basker began organizing the new group. Jones, a local entrepreneur, and Hart, a prominent civil rights attorney, had both been members of the earlier Chicago Mattachine Societies. Basker was a New York City transplant who had a passion for social justice. He had come to Chicago as an encyclopedia salesman. Despite their varied backgrounds, Jones, Hart, and Basker all believed in the desperate, long overdue need for an organization such as Mattachine Midwest. In 1957, attorney Pearl Hart (above) authored a brochure, “Your Legal Rights,” for Chicago’s first Mattachine Society. The brochure covered a range of topics, from the right to a phone call if arrested to the legal definition of a “public space.”
8 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
Chicago’s earliest Mattachine Societies communicated primarily through newsletters. Above: Newsletters from Chicago’s first (left) and second (right) Mattachine Societies. Below: Throughout the 1960s and 1970s, editors of the Mattachine Midwest Newsletter covered local, national, and international news; cautioned members about questionable police practices; offered legal advice; prompted dialogue through readers’ opinion pages; and advertised citywide social and political events.
Standing Up for Gay Rights | 9
As the gay rights movement gained momentum, activists became more outspoken. Above: A protest in Chicago’s Loop, c. 1970.
10 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
Hart served as the legal advisor, and Jones and Basker did much of the legwork, using personal contacts and networking in bars to spread the word about the new organization. In May 1965, Jones, Hart, Basker, and about a dozen others met to map out the agenda of MM and organize several committees, which would become the backbone of the organization. Mattachine Midwest held its first public meeting on July 27, 1965, in the ballroom of the Midland Hotel on West Adams Street. The work of the publicity committee exceeded expectations and more than 140 people attended the meeting. The group chose Basker as their first president and appointed Roland Lancaster secretary. Basker gave a stirring speech, pointing out not only the social injustices inflicted upon gay people but also the responsibilities that gay people must accept: In our time, homosexuals have been the victims of abuses winked at by the law authorities. They have been arrested without due process of law, victimized by odious police methods such as entrapment, manhandled by the police and deprived of legal redress when physically assaulted by gangs. . . . Our work will help many people who will never support or understand our purpose of existence. Nevertheless, those of us here tonight have the responsibility to give of ourselves . . . to strengthen Mattachine Midwest. It is our vehicle in this generation for advancing the rights of homosexuals. Vowing to improve the “legal, social, and economic status of the homosexual” through programming and social service, MM leaders gave those in attendance a message of empowerment that few had ever heard before. Hart further drove home the message when she addressed the group, telling them to “assert the equal rights” that were already theirs. The first meeting of Mattachine Midwest generated an immense and heated reaction, and the group’s leaders faced the challenge of keeping up the momentum. In addition to starting a newsletter and a telephone help
Right: Mattachine Midwest leaders constantly struggled to combat stereotypes and prejudice, as indicated on this MM application form. Standing Up for Gay Rights | 11
line and putting together a lending library for members, MM leaders organized a publicity event they called “The Homophile Movement in America” and invited several national homophile leaders to Chicago. Mattachine Midwest leaders held a press conference, arranged appearances for the guests on the Night Line radio program on WBBM and on Irv Kupcinet’s television program, and organized a fundraising dinner. By the beginning of 1966, Mattachine Midwest proved itself more than a worthy successor to the previous efforts at organizing a gay political group in Chicago. While awareness initiatives and social service efforts remained much of its emphasis, leadership began to cast a wider net. According to the group’s “Homophile Movement” campaign, some members wanted to look beyond a support network and begin to challenge the subjective nature of law enforcement toward homosexuals. They desired to tackle the problem of gay entrapment by police—assigning undercover officers to stakeout public men’s rooms. The officers were supposed to wait to be propositioned, but they often took the initiative, approaching men first. Chicago’s early Mattachine groups had taken little interest in addressing this problem.
Left: MM provided invaluable support for countless gay men and lesbians ostracized by mainstream society. In July 1979, a “concerned citizen” wrote to Ann Landers about how the group saved his or her life. Below: Participants prepare for one of Chicago’s first Gay Pride Parades, c. 1970.
12 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
Challenging social injustice came to the forefront in the fall of 1965 when, upon Basker’s resignation, Jim Bradford became the new president of Mattachine Midwest. The New York transplant was no stranger to leadership or to questioning authority; while in New York, he had actively protested capital punishment and the Korean War. Similar to many Mattachine members, he chose to use a pseudonym instead of his real last name. Pseudonyms offered protection not only to members who wanted to remain anonymous but also to outspoken ones such as Bradford. Jim Bradford had no reservations about blaming the city’s police force for the unfair treatment of gays in Chicago. He challenged the police department’s actions toward homosexuals like no one before him. He controlled Mattachine’s mouthpiece—its newsletter—and used it to wage a campaign to publicize his views and engage the police. Bradford’s biggest complaints involved entrapment of men in public restrooms and random, informal interrogation of any man police deemed suspicious. Police used the “stop and quiz” method, as the practice was called, to keep track of single men who were walking or parking in suspected homosexual “cruising” areas. Chicago police officials did not want to talk to Bradford or the members of Mattachine Midwest about their practices toward homosexuals. Bradford made numerous attempts to arrange a meeting with the police beginning in fall 1965. He also asked for a police representative to come to a MM meeting to address police practices. He reported that the police claimed that they “had inadequate knowledge of the topic.” Through perseverance and pestering, however, Bradford finally prevailed in arranging a meeting between the police and several Mattachine officers in April 1966. While the occasion was historic, it yielded minimal results. MM representatives presented their grievances regarding police entrapment of gay men. According to a newsletter report, the police responded that the force was only a “tool of society” and that “vague city ordinances and [a] lack of court decisions” forced them to take action and justified those actions. The meeting was not the breakthrough for which Mattachine leaders had hoped, but however tendentious the relationship remained, MM had opened a line of communication. Two years later, Mattachine and police officials met again, and during these meetings, Mattachine leaders gave police the names of specific officers accused of initiating flirtation and, at times, making physical contact in order to entice gay men into soliciting sexual acts. Much of what is known about the group’s earliest efforts to meet with police comes from accounts in the organization’s monthly newsletter. Realizing that the organization had a responsibility to not only inform but
In the post-Stonewall era, the gay rights movement grew increasingly militant and fostered many liberation groups, including the Chicago Gay Alliance (CGA). In their newsletter (above), the CGA urged support for a wide range of political events, both local and national (below).
Standing Up for Gay Rights | 13
also inspire hope for gays and lesbians, MM leaders were determined to circulate their newsletter to a wider readership. Unlike the earlier Mattachine groups, Mattachine Midwest expanded and formalized their distribution methods. Each month, members took stacks of newsletters to gay bars and gay-friendly bookstores. Distributing the newsletter, however, came with a risk. According to Ira Jones, in at least one instance, police confiscated newsletters from a bar during a raid and used them as evidence that the owner ran a “disorderly house.” The Mattachine Midwest Newsletter quickly became a source of information and a voice for Chicago’s gay community. Less than six months after the group’s founding, Jim Bradford estimated the newsletter circulation to be in excess of two thousand. Through membership dues and advertising sales, the newsletter continued to grow throughout the 1960s. By July 1970, the circulation was approximately eight thousand. The newsletter became a valuable forum for the city’s gay liberation groups that formed following the Stonewall Riots of June 1969. Stonewall proved to be the pivotal event in gay political history. The riots, which began in protest to a bar raid at New York’s Stonewall Inn, became a call-to-arms for young gays. Most of the Stonewallinspired gay liberation groups had little money to publicize their activities, so Mattachine Midwest printed their news and promoted their events in the MM newsletter. Besides providing the gay community with monthly news, Mattachine Midwest also started the city’s first telephone help line for gay men and lesbians. The Mattachine Midwest Answering Service, run by member volunteers, operated for nineteen years. The service gave gay people in need a number to call for a sympathetic ear and, if necessary, a referral to a professional. MM recruited doctors, psychologists, lawyers, and ministers, who agreed to offer their services to anonymous callers. By the late 1960s, the answering service received forty to sixty calls per month. As with many causes, activists used buttons to outwardly support the gay rights movement. Top: The National March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights in 1979 was one of the movement’s most publicized protests. Middle: Slogans, such as “Out and Proud,” dominated gay culture of the 1980s. 14 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
In the face of criticism from gay liberation groups, MM reverted to its original mission as a social service organization (above). MM membership cards (below) continued to remind members about what to do if arrested.
Chicago’s gay scene exploded in the 1980s, due to both greater acceptance by mainstream society and the AIDS crisis. Above and below: The Pride Parade (shown here, c. 1980) quickly became one of Chicago’s celebrated summer events. Left: Chicagoan Daniel Sotomayor brought the AIDS crisis to the forefront through his nationally syndicated political cartoons and public confrontations with Mayor Richard M. Daley. Sotomayor died of AIDS complications in 1992.
Standing Up for Gay Rights | 15
In May 1986, with Ira Jones at the helm, Mattachine Midwest celebrated its twentieth anniversary. Above: The Windy City Times gave the gala front-page coverage.
Building on the success of the Mattachine service, other groups began to launch help lines in the 1970s. Some MM members also volunteered to participate in the group’s Speakers’ Bureau. A variety of groups invited Mattachine representatives, including Bradford, Tom Gertz, Bill Kelley, Marie Kuda, David Steinecker, and Val Taylor, to speak on the topic of homosexuality and Mattachine Midwest’s role in the gay community. While Mattachine speakers occasionally faced open hostility, many recalled that audiences were considerate and genuinely interested in the subject. As social mores began to ease, groups as diverse as the Cook County School of Nursing and the Lakeview Ministers’ Workshop requested MM speakers. Mattachine Midwest reached its peak in early 1970. Until that time, the organization had enjoyed an unchallenged position as the voice of the city’s gay community, but following the Stonewall Riots, the gay rights movement grew rapidly and became increasingly militant. Local gay liberation groups began to describe Mattachine Midwest as a complacent group, whose membership comprised mostly closeted, middle-aged men, and took MM to task for not taking action. In May 1970, during a meeting between Mattachine Midwest and several of the gay liberation groups, leaders of the old and new guards traded accusations. Despite its supportive role in helping start many of the groups, the new guard looked upon MM as a has-been. By 1971, the new groups had usurped MM’s role as the city’s leading gay rights organization. As a result, Mattachine Midwest experienced difficulties throughout the early 1970s. With a declining membership base and a large newsletter printing debt, the remaining members struggled to keep the group going. In 1971, some members offered a resolution to dissolve the group due to its inability to keep pace with the postStonewall movement. The membership voted against the 16 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
resolution but decided to concentrate the group’s energies on social service and leave political advocacy to groups, such as the Chicago Gay Alliance. MM continued to operate its telephone help line and launched new social services, including weekly discussion sessions, a support group for gay alcoholics, and a group called Parents and Friends of Gay Men and Lesbian Women, a predecessor to today’s national organization, Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays (PFLAG). With its new mission, MM’s membership grew steadily throughout the 1970s, peaking at 150 in 1979. The early 1980s, however, found the organization’s membership once again in decline but for different reasons. The Mattachine of the late 1970s and early 1980s, encountered a gay movement that had lost its momentum and found many in the community less concerned with socially consciousness. By the late 1970s, raids on gay bars had decreased significantly, and the gay social scene had exploded. In the sexually charged atmosphere that prevailed, many members of the gay community took more interest in discos and bathhouses than in discussion groups and garage sale fundraisers. By 1984, Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (AIDS) began to radically change the sexually liberal atmosphere that had become the community’s norm. Mattachine leaders were a step behind, however, in aggressively moving into AIDS service. New groups emerged to deal with the AIDS crisis, and Mattachine leaders were forced once again to question their relevance to the community.
At the Center on Halsted’s Human First Gala 2005, executive director Robbin Burr (left) presented Mayor Richard M. Daley with an award for his efforts on the center’s behalf. With the groundbreaking scheduled for later this year, Chicago’s Center on Halsted will be “the world’s finest community center for lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) persons.” Photograph by Timmy Samuel.
By 1985, Mattachine Midwest John D. Poling is a history instructor at seemed to have exhausted its useParkland College in Champaign, Illinois. fulness. Ira Jones, the group’s presiThis article is part of his 2002 master’s dent at the time, was single-minded thesis, “Mattachine Midwest: The History in his goal to see Mattachine Midof a Chicago Gay Rights Organization, west reach its twentieth anniversary 1965 to 1986.” and to have the milestone properly I L L U S T R AT I O N S | 4, reprinted commemorated. Toward this end, he called in several personal favors, from the Chicago Tribune, 26 April recruiting past members to come 1964; 5, courtesy of the Dill Pickle back and convincing current memCollection, Newberry Library, Chibers to stay. cago, Illinois; 6, CHS, Gregory Jones got his wish when MatSprague slide collection; 7–9, courtachine Midwest celebrated its tesy of Gerber/Hart Library, Chicago, twenty years of service in May Illinois; 10, CHS, Gregory Sprague 1986 at a gala at the Midland slide collection; 11, courtesy of Hotel, the site of the first MM Gerber/Hart Library, Chicago, Illipublic meeting. Several past presinois; 12 top, reprinted by permisdents, including Jim Bradford and By the 1990s, activists from various causes sion of Esther P. Lederer and cofounder Bob Basker, attended openly supported the gay rights movement. Civil Creators Syndicate, Inc.; 12 botthe event. Chicago Mayor Harold rights activist Reverend Ronald Schupp created tom, CHS, Declan Haun collection; Washington made an appearance this poster for use at a demonstration in Chicago. 13, CHS, HQ75.C27; 14 top left as well. and middle, CHS; 14 right, courtesy The gala was a testament to Jone’s drive and tenacity of Gerber/Hart Library, Chicago, Illinois; 15, top and and was sadly his last hurrah. Just two months later, he bottom, CHS, Gregory Sprague slide collection; 15 suffered a fatal heart attack. His death was the final blow middle, CHS; 16 top, reprinted with permission and courfor Mattachine Midwest. Despite the successful annivertesy of the Windy City Times; 16 bottom, photo by Timmy sary celebration, there was little interest in trying to keep Samuel, starbellystudios.com; 17, CHS, Rev. Ronald I. the group going. Some members even felt that Jones had Schupp collection. willed the organization past its natural demise. In the end, Mattachine Midwest fell victim to the forces that F O R F U RT H E R R E A D I N G | For a history of sexuality doom many organizations: member apathy, lack of direcin America, see Intimate Matters by Estelle B. Freedman tion, and changing times. and John D’Emilio (New York: Harper & Row, 1988). Mattachine Midwest experienced great success in the Other works of interest of John D’Emilio’s include Sexual months that followed the massive raid on the Fun Politics, Sexual Communities (University of Chicago Press, Lounge in 1964, and this success carried the organiza1998) and Creating Change: Sexuality, Public Policy, and Civil tion through the exhilarating times that rapidly followed Rights (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2002). David Carter Stonewall. MM’s contributions were many, ranging from provides an in-depth analysis of the Stonewall riots in providing the gay community with a newsletter and a Stonewall: The Riots that Sparked the Gay Revolution (New telephone help and referral line to speaking out against York: St. Martin’s Press, 2004). For a study of New York’s police harassment. Perhaps, though, its greatest contriearly gay culture, see George Chauncey’s Gay New York: bution was simply that it existed. Gender, Urban Culture, and the Making of the Gay Male For many of Mattachine’s early members, the organizaWorld, 1890–1940 (New York: Basic Books, 1994). For an tion meant an end to the chronic isolation which often account of the Mattachine chapter in Washington, D.C., accompanied being homosexual. One member recalled, see David K. Johnson’s The Lavender Scare (University of “You get the feeling you are alone a lot when you’re gay. Chicago, 2004). Access to original copies of homophile Mattachine was the first inkling of community, that there publications, including The Ladder, Mattachine Midwest were people behind you.” For members like these, Newsletter, Mattachine Review, and ONE, is available by Mattachine Midwest was a support network long in the appointment at the Gerber/Hart Library, Chicago, Illinois. making. Its success represented not only the beginning Listening copies of Gregory Sprague’s interviews Robert of centralized gay activism in Chicago but also offered a Basker, Jim Bradford, and Ira Jones, among many others, sense of community to a population that in many ways and Studs Terkel’s discussion on homosexuality and epitomized the disenfranchised. American society with Jim Bradford, Valerie Taylor, and Henry Weimhoff are available for use at CHS. Standing Up for Gay Rights | 17
A C O M PA S S I O N AT E E Y E The Photographs of Declan Haun, 1961–69 LEIGH MORAN
AND
P E T E R T. A L T E R
D
uring the 1960s, Americans questioned the future of their nation. Furious debates raged over politics, race, religion, and war. While photojournalists often recorded the decade’s violent clashes, Declan Haun’s quiet and contemplative views revealed his subjects’ inner resolve and measured the decade’s greatest debates with a compassionate eye. Declan Haun was born in Detroit, Michigan, in 1937. Although introduced to photography at an early age by his father, Charlie Haun, a Detroit Free Press photograph editor, Haun studied architecture and design before taking up photojournalism. During the 1960s, he worked first as a staff photographer for the Charlotte Observer in North Carolina and later in Chicago as a freelancer for the picture agency Black Star. His ability to communicate the emotional tenor of the times in his photographs earned him contracts with leading national magazines, such as Life, Newsweek, and the Saturday Evening Post. Declan Haun, c. 1970. Haun’s work offers unique perspectives on one of the most socially and politically turbulent decades in American history. CHS, ICHi-36722. Leigh Moran and Peter T. Alter curated the exhibition, A Compassionate Eye: The Photographs of Declan Haun, 1961–69, at the Chicago Historical Society. Moran is collection manager for prints and photographs and Alter is a curator at CHS.
18 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
As Americans increasingly turned to television by decade’s end, many popular news magazines folded, and Haun began to explore other career opportunities. Although he continued to freelance for Black Star, Haun also worked in film production and photo editing for magazines such as National Geographic and Smithsonian. In 1994, he died in Washington, D.C., at the age of fifty-six. The Chicago Historical Society (CHS) celebrates the achievements of photojournalist Declan Haun with a selection of works from his most prolific period. These photographs are part of the Declan Haun Archive, which CHS acquired through the generosity of the photographer’s estate in 2002. The archive includes the majority of the photographer’s original negatives, slides, and personal and professional papers, as well as a selection of his original prints.
Justice, Monroe, North Carolina, 1961. Haun’s photograph of a determined young demonstrator picketing in front of the Monroe courthouse directs attention to the focus of the Civil Rights Movement: the desire for social justice. The simplicity of Justice made it one of the movement’s most powerful messages and quickly established Haun’s reputation as a photojournalist. CHS, ICHi-35488. Declan Haun | 19
The Early Years
I
n 1958, at the age of twenty-one, Declan Haun moved to North Carolina to join the photography department of the Charlotte Observer. Photographers at the Observer were part of the groundbreaking group of photojournalists embracing the use of smaller format cameras in natural light. Unlike mediumformat cameras that used a four-by-five-inch negative—the tool of most newspaper photographers until the early 1960s—the smaller format allowed greater mobility and spontaneity. As a result, by the early 1960s, the creative and energetic Observer photographers had established the paper as a national leader in the field of photojournalism. While working for the Observer, Haun gained a reputation as a “people photographer.” No matter what the event, his photographs conveyed a deep connection with his human subjects. At the same time, Haun became captivated by the variety of religious traditions in the Bible Belt and began documenting the religious groups in a series of personal photo essays. Haun described this as his “big project,” which he hoped eventually to see published in a national magazine.
Girl with an American flag at a community parade, Charlotte, North Carolina, 1961. CHS, ICHi-36891.
Woman celebrates returns during election night at the Hotel Charlotte, Charlotte, North Carolina, 1962. Haun’s photograph of a local congressional election expresses an energy and depth most newspaper photographs lacked and was indicative of photojournalism’s new aesthetic. CHS, ICHi-36842. 20 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
In order to make good pictures, you have got to approach people— not as a photographer—but first, as a person. Declan Haun
Glenmary Sister makes home visit, near Hayesville, North Carolina, 1961. In 1958, the Glenmary Sisters established a Catholic mission in the lower Appalachian Mountains where they hoped to provide home health care to the region’s rural poor. Though few practicing Catholics lived in the area, the Glenmary Sisters made inroads among the isolated mountain population, offering Bible study and much-needed medical care. CHS, ICHi-36843.
The United House of Prayer for All People annual baptism, Charlotte, North Carolina, 1962. Since the 1920s, Charlotte’s United House of Prayer for All People has enthusiastically celebrated the homecoming of its leader, Sweet Daddy Grace, with an annual baptism, parade, and church service. In 1962, the Bishop Walter McCollough was the second leader to take up the moniker of Sweet Daddy Grace, performing the annual baptism for local church members. CHS, ICHi-36844. Declan Haun | 21
The Struggle for Justice
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aun resigned from the Charlotte Observer in 1963 to join Black Star, an international picture agency whose freelancers actively covered the Civil Rights Movement. One of his first major assignments was to photograph the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom on August 28, 1963, where Martin Luther King Jr. delivered his inspiring speech, “I have a dream.� Though public officials had anticipated an angry mob of protesters, the demonstration progressed peacefully. Less than three weeks later, Black Star dispatched Haun to Birmingham, Alabama, to capture community response in the aftermath of the bombing of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church, which killed four African American children. Both events brought unprecedented media coverage to the Civil Rights Movement and garnered support for the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.
Broken windows at the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church, Birmingham, Alabama, 1963. On the morning of Sunday, September 15, 1963, a bomb ripped through the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in Birmingham wounding twenty people and killing four young girls. CHS, ICHi-36952.
Young women at the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, Washington, D.C., 1963. CHS, ICHi-36727.
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Martin Luther King Jr. ascends church steps, with Fred Shuttlesworth (left) and Ralph Abernathy (right), Birmingham, Alabama, 1963. King, his close aide in the Southern Christian Leadership Council Ralph Abernathy, and Fred Shuttlesworth, leader of the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights, delivered eulogies at the funeral for victims of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church bombing. CHS, ICHi-36730. Mourners grieve on church steps following the service for victims of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church bombing, Birmingham, Alabama, 1963. CHS, ICHi-36877.
Declan Haun | 23
On the Campaign Trail
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n 1964, in the first presidential election since President John F. Kennedy’s assassination, voters saw sharp differences among the many candidates. On assignment for Black Star, Haun followed the campaign of conservative Arizona Senator Barry Goldwater, which marked the rebirth of the Christian right’s active involvement in national politics. Goldwater won the Republican presidential nomination by fighting moderates within his party, claiming, “Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice!” For the Saturday Evening Post, Haun covered segregationist Alabama Governor George C. Wallace’s campaign in Wisconsin, where the candidate won 34 percent of the vote in the state’s Democratic presidential primary. Only a year before, he had proclaimed “Segregation now! Segregation tomorrow! Segregation forever!” Wallace eventually lost his party’s presidential nomination to President Lyndon Johnson. In the general election between Johnson and Goldwater, or “Godlywater” as Haun referred to him, the president won a landslide victory. Barry Goldwater delivers a campaign speech in the Mormon Tabernacle, Salt Lake City, Utah, 1964. In his deliberate mocking of the Christian right’s active support of Republican presidential candidate Barry Goldwater, Haun often depicted the Arizona senator as a religious figure during his campaign stops. CHS, ICHi-36954.
Goldwater supporters, Portland, Oregon, 1964. While photographing pro-Goldwater crowds, Haun often remarked on the “strange signs” he saw in the hands of the candidate’s most passionate supporters, including the woman who carries a sign bearing the slogan: “Next to God America Needs Goldwater.” CHS, ICHi-36741.
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George Wallace delivers a campaign speech, Sheboygan, Wisconsin, 1964. In his bid for the Democratic presidential nomination in 1964, segregationist Alabama Governor George Wallace appealed to voters with his antigovernment, religion-laced rhetoric. While covering Wallace’s campaign through Wisconsin, Haun aimed to show “what kind of people come to hear� the candidate. CHS, ICHi-36870.
A street vendor sells inaugural souvenirs, Washington, D.C., 1965. Haun extensively covered the 1965 inauguration, including the inaugural parade and surrounding activities. Up to that time, the Johnson inaugural was the most expensive in history, costing $2.1 million. CHS, ICHi-37662.
Declan Haun | 25
Selma, Alabama
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n Sunday, March 7, 1965, Alabama state law enforcement officers violently attacked six hundred civil rights activists, preventing them from marching from Selma to Montgomery. With this march, the activists had hoped to enlarge civil rights protections to include voting rights. In Selma, the former site of a slave market, African Americans made up 50 percent of the local population but constituted only 3 percent of registered voters. Black Star dispatched Haun to Selma to document the aftermath of “Bloody Sunday.” Two days later, Martin Luther King Jr. surprised civil rights activists by abruptly aborting a second attempt to march to Montgomery, which left hundreds of people stranded in Selma. Haun covered “Turnaround Tuesday” and the other events leading up to the successful march to Montgomery two weeks later. Unfortunately, the photographer missed the march itself when he unwillingly left at the request of Black Star on assignment for Ladies’ Home Journal.
Clergyman and child, Selma, Alabama, 1965. In response to the violence of Bloody Sunday, Martin Luther King Jr. called clergy of all faiths to join him in Selma. While photographing in Selma, Haun conveyed a sense of unity among those gathered for the march to Montgomery. CHS, ICHi-36729.
Civil rights supporters sleeping in Brown Chapel A.M.E. after Turnaround Tuesday, Selma, Alabama, 1965. Haun noted that “members of the clergy did much to feed, clothe and shelter the volunteers,” allowing them to sleep on church pews and in church basements. CHS, ICHi-36961.
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Woman sings outside the Dallas County Courthouse, Selma, Alabama, 1965. CHS, ICHi-36733.
Ralph Abernathy speaks into bullhorn on steps of the Dallas County Courthouse with Martin Luther King Jr. beside him, Selma, Alabama, 1965. CHS, ICHi-36902.
Declan Haun | 27
Trouble at Home
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artin Luther King Jr. brought the Civil Rights Movement north in 1966 to help local civil rights leaders challenge Chicago’s residential segregation. While living in the city, Haun was uniquely positioned to cover King’s open housing marches through the city’s white neighborhoods. After facing violent resistance during a march in Chicago’s Marquette Park, King commented that he had “never seen so much hatred and hostility on the part of so many people.” Late in the summer of 1966, King made an agreement with Mayor Richard J. Daley to end the openhousing marches. On Sunday, September 4, Robert Lucas, president of the Chicago chapter of the Congress of Racial Equality, led more than two hundred protesters from Chicago into the all-white suburb of Cicero in protest. As the integrated group marched through Cicero’s streets, they sang freedom songs and chanted, “Go, go, go to Cicero!” Haun’s photographs of the event appeared in Life magazine.
The following year, Haun photographed the Blackstone Rangers, a predominantly African American street gang. The Rangers controlled drug trafficking and the protection racket on Chicago’s South Side and had received national attention when the Office of Economic Opportunity awarded the gang a federal job-training grant. Many white Chicagoans feared desegregation would lead to neighborhoods overrun by the Rangers and other street gangs.
Open-housing marchers, Chicago, 1966. CHS, ICHi-36882.
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Counter demonstrators at an open-housing march, Chicago, 1966. As civil rights workers walked west down Seventy-Ninth Street near Bogan High School in the Ashburn neighborhood, white residents taunted them, protesting the “invasion� of their neighborhood by the demonstrators. CHS, ICHi-36886. Declan Haun | 29
Illinois National Guardsman stabs a civil rights counter demonstrator, Cicero, Illinois, 1966. More than 2,700 Illinois National Guardsmen lined the route of the Cicero civil rights march. The march turned violent when hecklers began to throw rocks and bottles, and some marchers threw the debris back. One guardsman stabbed a nineteen-year-old Cicero man for not dispersing. CHS, ICHi-36734. 30 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
Blackstone Ranger salute, Chicago, Illinois, 1967. The Rangers conveyed a Black Power message in their motto: “Black Stone is Stone Black.” Their clenched fist salute also mirrored that of the Black Panthers. CHS, ICHi-37661.
Young boys shaking hands in front of “Ranger Jr.” graffiti, Chicago, Illinois, 1967. CHS, ICHi-36731.
Declan Haun | 31
End of the Era
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merican society was in a state of upheaval by the end of the 1960s. Haun documented the close of the decade through his continued work for national magazines. In 1968, he covered Martin Luther King Jr.’s funeral. While King’s dream lived on, millions mourned the loss of the man who struggled “to redeem the soul of America.” Months later at the Republican National Convention, Haun captured the hopes of the “silent majority,” a phrase coined by Republican presidential candidate Richard M. Nixon, who claimed most Americans simply wanted “domestic tranquility.” In 1969, a year after Nixon’s victory, the Vietnam Moratorium, an antiwar protest in Washington, D.C., symbolized the youthful resistance feared by the president’s constituency.
Young couple in sleeping bag, Washington, D.C., 1969. For three days in November 1969, 250,000 people descended on Washington, D.C., to protest American involvement in the Vietnam War. The event, called the Vietnam Moratorium, began with a “March against death,” which culminated in a rally at the Washington Monument. The crowds listened to antiwar speakers, often chanting “Peace now!” In response, Vice President Spiro Agnew called the demonstrators “immature,” “arrogant,” and “reckless.” CHS, ICHi-36968.
Nixon supporter at the Republican National Convention, Miami Beach, Florida, 1968. A young woman—wearing an “I Am a Virgin” button—cheers for Nixon. In his campaign, Nixon focused on morality as a key issue contrasting most Americans’ conservative moral beliefs with those of the leftist student movement. CHS, ICHi-36737. 32 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
Martin Luther King Jr.’s funeral procession, Atlanta, Georgia, 1968. CHS, ICHi-36736. Declan Haun | 33
A Southern View
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he South remained dear to Haun throughout the 1960s. Long after moving from Charlotte to Chicago, he returned again and again to photograph southern people and landscapes. Haun’s years living in the South marked a period of great self-discovery, brought him closer to the struggles that defined the decade, and significantly influenced his worldview. Although editorial assignments often required him to document conditions of poverty and social injustice in the South, Haun also thought of the region as a place of great mystery and intrigue, one of enduring tradition and natural beauty.
Peter Gott dancing to banjo played by neighbor, Asheville, North Carolina, 1965. Haun traveled to the mountains where Peter Gott, a young bluegrass musician, lived in a remote setting with his young wife. Haun commented that Gott had “graduated from college and brought his new bride from New York to North Carolina, where they are now living as they might have a hundred years ago.” CHS, ICHi-36845.
Fashion show, Charlotte, North Carolina, c. 1962. CHS, ICHi-36866. Man in doorway, Charlotte, North Carolina, 1962. Years after taking this photograph, Haun observed that too many Americans viewed Southern blacks as he had depicted the man in the doorway: “faceless, two dimensional.” CHS, ICHi-36885. 34 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
A grandfather plays with his granddaughter amid the dogwood blossoms of spring, Charlotte, North Carolina, 1963. CHS, ICHi-37655. Declan Haun | 35
YESTERDAY’S CITY I
“No Beer for Babies”: The Child Welfare Exhibit J A M E S M A RT E N
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ne day in May 1911, Susan Glaspell, the journalist and, later, Pulitzer Prize–winning playwright, turned down an invitation to go for a drive—a still-novel activity at the time—to attend the Child Welfare Exhibit in Chicago. “With a pleasing sense of my own virtue,” she later recounted, “[I] turned my face toward the Coliseum.” As soon as Glaspell arrived at the exhibit, she discovered a fascinating demonstration of the conditions, ideas, and efforts related to city children. The exhibit, Glaspell believed, had brought together widely divergent men and especially women to consider the same issue: 36 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
The 1911 Child Welfare Exhibit in the Coliseum attracted more than 400,000 visitors.
Some of them were Catholics and some of them were Protestants and some of them were “unbelievers” and some of them were Jews. Some were conservatives and some were socialists. Some of them had their coffee in bed in the morning and some of them carried the coffee to the bed. In many things they were different, but in this thing were they alike: None of them thought it right that children die of preventable diseases.
The Chicago Child Welfare exhibit, which ran May 11 through 25, turned out to be one of the largest events of its kind. The exhibit also stood as Chicago’s unique contribution to the era’s passion for reform and unprecedented concern for the welfare of the nation’s children. The chief sponsor of the exhibit was Mrs. Harriet B. (Hammond) McCormick, wife of Cyrus H. McCormick Jr., heir to the agricultural implement empire. The McCormicks dedicated their philanthropy to their daughter, Elizabeth, who had died in 1905 at the age of twelve. The day after the Child Welfare Exhibit ended, the McCormicks announced an expansion of the Elizabeth McCormick Memorial Fund, a $500,000 foundation that distributed money to schools and to programs providing medical care for children. Some of the exhibit’s displays came from a similar but smaller event held in New York earlier that year. The Chicago exhibit also featured fifty thousand dollars worth of new research, demonstrations, and displays that occupied 72,000 square feet in the cavernous Chicago Coliseum, one of the most unusual buildings in Chicago. Built partly from materials salvaged from the Libby Prison for Union soldiers during the Civil War, the Coliseum took up most of the block between Fifteenth and Sixteenth Streets on South Wabash Avenue in the middle of a bustling neighborhood. The Coliseum had hosted a wide variety of events over the years, from com-
This image of a child, titled Bambino, became a symbol of the event and was featured on posters and the cover of the exhibit’s official handbook.
Mr. and Mrs. Cyrus McCormick Jr. (right and center), the main sponsors of the 1911 exhibit, supported other child welfare causes; that same year, they also opened the open-air McCormick School in South Lawndale.
mercial and automobile shows to circuses, horse shows, religious rallies, political conventions (including the 1908 and 1912 Republican national conventions) sportsmen’s shows, and prizefights. With Mrs. McCormick as honorary president and Jane Addams as chair, an executive committee of more than thirty luminaries assisted officers Sherman C. Kingsley, director of the McCormick Memorial Fund; Thomas W. Allinson of Chicago’s Henry Booth Settlement House; and Colin C. H. Fyffe, a local lawyer and Democratic politician, in organizing the massive event. Scores of citizens and experts served on nearly forty committees researching and organizing the displays; 250 others— merchants, industrialists, judges, doctors, clergymen, college presidents and their wives—participated as members of the “General Committee”; another 2000 worked as volunteers. Three hundred men, working in shifts, labored around the clock to prepare the booths, tables, and lights. During the opening ceremonies, fifteen hundred people—including a six-hundred-voice children’s chorus—appeared on a platform built at the front of the Coliseum. Between 20,000 and 45,000 people streamed into the Coliseum every day, and by the time a lone Boy Scout played taps on his bugle to close the event two weeks later, more than 416,000 people had attended. Yesterday’s City | 37
Above: Reverend W. R. Hopkins, Helen R. Emmons, and Constance Smith examine an architectural model of the exhibit. Below: The Coliseum’s empty exhibition hall before the installation of the show.
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Cyrus McCormick’s brief remarks during the opening ceremonies—which could barely be heard over the shuffling and murmuring in the crowd—emphasized the sponsors’ personal commitment to child welfare issues. He opened by quoting, “There is nothing in all the world so important as children—nothing so interesting.” He went on to assert, “If mankind is to be reformed or improved, we must begin with the child.” McCormick listed the many problems facing children, especially poor and immigrant children living in the crowded and still growing cities of America—poor health care and housing, the lack of adequate playgrounds and recreational facilities, and, at least according to reformers, careless childrearing on the part of ignorant parents. He assured his audience, however, “that wise men and women . . . are showing us how we can meet these needs; how we can lift the burden from the backs of the little children.” The exhibit was simply a “rational and practical” response to “the sadness of child life.” By educating parents to take better care of their children and by encouraging communities to provide necessary facilities and resources, the exhibit would contribute to the inevitable “march of progress” toward better lives for children. McCormick’s words reflected the stern optimism of the Progressive Era, which lasted roughly from the 1890s to World War I. Progressivism attracted men and women of all political persuasions; both Democrat Woodrow Wilson and Republican Theodore Roosevelt considered themselves Progressives. A confidence in scientific research—the theory that you must first find out what is wrong before you can change it—and in the capacity of professionally trained experts to manage and reform social problems united all Progressives. The movement’s followers also believed that all levels of government must take the lead in establishing a fair economy, raising the standard of living for everyone, and bringing the nation’s vast resources to help alleviate many problems facing Americans, especially in crowded cities. Progressive reforms included regulating trusts, lowering tariffs on imports, promoting women’s suffrage and the prohibition of alcohol, regulating the packaging of food and the sale of drugs, and protecting the environment by establishing national parks and forests. The origins of the Child Welfare Exhibit intended to show, in the words of Anita McCormick Blaine, sister-in-law to the exhibit’s sponsor, “a measure of Chicago’s shortcomings and
opportunities.” Chicago boasted impressive credentials as a center of Progressive-era child welfare efforts, and Jane Addams contributed greatly to that reputation. Hull-House, founded by Addams in 1889, stood as one of the first and the most famous settlement house in America on Chicago’s Near West Side. In addition to programs for adults—including English and citizenship classes—Hull-House organized a kindergarten in the 1890s and built the city’s first public playground in 1893. Over the years, its clubs, rural camps, day cares, and other youth services became extremely popular. Chicago’s Progressive-era contributions to child welfare reform went far past Hull-House. The University of Chicago, founded in 1892, created the first professional school for social workers, originally called the Chicago School of Civics and Philanthropy. Many of Addams’s Hull-House colleagues taught at the school, including Sophonisba Breckinridge, who had a law degree and a Ph.D. in political science and would edit the collection of papers presented during the conference held in conjunction with the Child Welfare Exhibit. Chicago also hosted many amateur reformers and a number of women’s groups who advocated on behalf of social justice issues. The Chicago Woman’s Club worked to improve education, for instance, while other groups promoted organized labor, racial justice, and a number of
Top: A Bambino sculpture before its installation. Above: Jane Addams (second from right) served as chair of the exhibit and spoke at the opening ceremonies. Yesterday’s City | 39
Social reformer Sophonisba Breckinridge (above) edited a collection of papers presented during conferences on child welfare topics held during the exhibit. Below right: The exhibit used nursery rhymes to stress the horrors of child labor.
charitable causes. Finally, in 1899, Chicagoans established the first juvenile court system in the country. The new juvenile courts grew out of reformers’ efforts to balance respect for the law with compassion by distinguishing between hardened criminals and young lawbreakers with separate courts for children, probation programs, and counseling. A number of the Chicago area’s most prominent educators, reformers, and advocates for children participated in the exhibit. As the efforts of Chicago reformers demonstrate, child welfare programs became a centerpiece of Progressive Era reform, culminating in the establishment of the United States Children’s Bureau in 1912. One of the bureau’s most public efforts was its annual “Baby Week Campaign.” Across the country, public health departments, the Camp Fire Girls, agricultural college extension services, women’s groups, hos40 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
pitals, county governments, churches, chambers of commerce, and many other organizations tried to increase public awareness of nutrition, health care, and other facets of childrearing. The events included lectures, stereopticon shows, and demonstrations on nutrition, the importance of pasteurized milk, creating healthy home environments, vaccinations, clothing, and traffic safety. Many baby weeks held “better mothers” contests in which women competed for prizes by answering questions on parenting, and most also held pageants in which the parents of the healthiest-looking, cutest babies were awarded prizes. Although the Child Welfare Exhibit also stressed child health issues, it confronted a wider range of topics, and its overall tone was less festive and celebratory than that of later Children’s Bureau events. Although good news about programs on behalf of children appeared, the exhibit also displayed explicit information about the awful conditions in which many children lived. Each day the lectures and presentations at the exhibit featured a specific theme, including “Libraries and Museums,” “Mother’s Day,” “The Colored Child,” “The Foreign Child,” and “The Working Child.” The speakers tackled the most pressing topics in child welfare reform from birth through adolescence: clean water and pasteurized milk, better nutrition and designs for nursery furniture, visiting nurses and baby clinics, playground administration and educational toys, “dependent” children (orphans and handicapped children) and foster care, boys clubs, and juvenile courts. Private organizations, public schools, government agencies, and many other philanthropic groups mounted displays and exhibits or sent representatives to the program. The exhibit coincided with the worst heat wave of the year, with temperatures consistently in the nineties. Seven residents of Chicago died from the heat in a single day, while on another eight people were bitten by dogs “made vicious by excessive heat.” Nevertheless, the Tribune reported, despite current fashions that called for high-stiff collars for men and clinging, ankle-length dresses on women, the huge crowds attending the exhibit were “undiscouraged” by the heat. Visitors to the exhibit entered through the main doors on Wabash Street. Stone turrets rose on either side, giant letters spelling “COLISEUM” arched overhead, and, higher yet, a fanciful arch topped by a spread-winged eagle stretched over the entrance. Inside, curving rafters ribbed the vaulted ceiling and huge windows at
This boy and girl helped emphasize the problem of children who worked in the streets selling items such as newspapers and chewing gum. Yesterday’s City | 41
On the first day of the exhibit, cartoonist John T. McCutcheon’s rendering of the city’s children in need dominated the front page of the Chicago Tribune. 42 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
The exhibit floor plan (above) shows the many subject matters covered at the exhibit. Below: Chicagoans swarmed the Coliseum to attend the event.
each end and smaller ones along the sides let in sunlight and fresh air. Although the roses and foliage draped the rafters during the run of the Child Welfare Exhibit, the interior of the Coliseum retained its rather utilitarian, bare-bones appearance. Upon arrival, visitors could leave their babies with student nurses at the “Baby Rest.” Opposite the Baby Rest was the Information Booth, where attendees could obtain a printed guide to the exhibit—an illustrated booklet of more than a hundred pages with useful summaries of the displays—or register for a guided tour by one of the fifteen hundred trained “explainers,” who could describe the exhibit in a number of foreign languages, including German, Polish, Hungarian, Yiddish, Croatian, Russian, Japanese, and Chinese. Most visitors, however, simply wandered through the crowded aisles on their own. Once inside, visitors were greeted by a wall of sound. The crowds that clogged the building kept the noise level just below deafening, and the huge number of children in attendance contributed to the din. One reporter provided a tongue-in-cheek estimate that 99 percent of the crowd one afternoon consisted of “solid childhood,” and complained good-naturedly that the adults in the crowd could do nothing “except get out of the way. Those who failed were run over. The tide was not only irresistible, but impolite. It nudged, pulled, complained, talked back, and occasionally kicked.” The toy section, which included a huge sandbox, was a great draw for children and became a bottleneck. Yesterday’s City | 43
Above: Many of the exhibit’s displays, such as this one, came from an earlier event in New York. Below: Other displays featured helpful hints for child rearing.
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With free admission on most days and every evening, the exhibit drew mothers from all societal and income levels. Newspaper reports stressed wide varieties of school and ethnic groups in the Coliseum. One Tribune article reported encounters between the middle-class matrons conducting the demonstrations and the ragged mothers for whom English was often a second language, marveling at new ideas and methods they were witnessing for the first time. The reporter described the middle- and upper-class women, with their “soft voice[s]” and “gay silk dress[es],” arguing about milk and nutrition with the dozens of other mothers— “shabby, bareheaded except for an occasional shawl”— who clustered around the booth. The reporter wrote that although the other women first resisted the notion that beer and cabbage were not appropriate foods for babies, they changed their minds after seeing waxen models of sickly and healthy children, reading information about the benefits of drinking milk, and hearing “sharp” words from the well-to-do demonstrator. The article stated confidently that none of the women who visited that booth “will ever feed beer to a baby again.” The demonstrations scheduled on the Coliseum floor at various times during the day added to the noise and bustle. Teachers and other experts demonstrated proper forms of caring for and feeding babies, explained children’s games, discussed books for young people, and suggested ways for parents to help their sons choose a trade. Children’s main-floor performances featured band competitions, gymnastic exercises, military drills, and ethnic folk dancing. Quieter performances highlighted classic fairy tales and plays. The exhibit also sponsored a series of conferences at Grace Episcopal Church, just north of the Coliseum. Most of the nation’s leading child welfare experts came to give a talk or to participate in the conferences, including Jane Addams; Julia C. Lathrop, who would become the first director of the Children’s Bureau a year later; and Florence Kelly, the reformer and writer who asserted that all American youngsters had “a right to childhood”—a phrase that child welfare reformers would borrow for decades. Other luminaries in attendance included Lillian Wald, a nurse who had founded the Henry Street Settlement House in New York City, and Booker T. Washington, who traveled from Alabama to talk about the “Claim of the Colored Child.” The program also included professors of education and health, superintendents of schools, physicians, and park and recreation administrators. Their lectures had titles such as “Social Service and the City Child,” “The Prevention of Blindness,” “Dental Hygiene” (complete with a slide show), and “Trades for Chicago Children.” While the conferences being held next door might have seemed rather detached and academic, the displays in the
Lucy Fitch Perkins’s Child Welfare Exhibit poster depicted Father Time handing the future of the world to a child.
Yesterday’s City | 45
Above: Many children participated in performances and demonstrations on the Coliseum’s main floor. Right: A newspaper article focused on four girls who demonstrated a native Bohemian dance.
Coliseum clearly showed children’s issues, both repelling and attracting observers. In its front-page story describing the opening ceremonies, the Tribune described the exhibit as “ruthless,” “laconic,” and “unpleasant,” but also hopeful and positive. The exhibits combined the urgency of the crisis in the lives of city children with the optimism of countless agencies and individuals dedicated to finding solutions (which emerged in Progressive rhetoric). The hundreds of booths were organized into three sections: home, public philanthropy, and private philanthropy. Many featured photographs, posters, charts, and hands-on demonstrations. Visitors first strolled through a series of displays related to the home life of children, including clothing, nutrition, toys, and sandboxes; simple, childfriendly furnishings; housekeeping techniques; and personal hygiene. Veering off to the left of the “Home” section, the “Civics” section dealt with organizations and efforts sponsored by state and local governments. To the right, the “Philanthropy” section featured institutions and programs funded by private sponsors. 46 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
The exhibit emphasized the importance of health care for children. A dentist demonstrated an examination on a boy with the help of two nurses.
Visitors encountered countless facts at these displays. In the “Home” section, for example, booths showed how a family with an annual income of nine hundred dollars could be fed and clothed in sensible fashion. Sample menus clearly marked the values of each food item. “It is the aim of the exhibit on foods and feeding,” the catalog assured readers, “to show not only what to avoid, but what to give. Tea, coffee, candy, sugar, beer and pickles are the things not to give.” Milk was presented as the perfect food item: it was inexpensive and offered the most nutrition for the cost. Another booth displayed clothing for six different age groups with exact prices for the homemade and store-bought items attached. The committee in charge of this display “gathered the best wardrobes in point of material, taste, and hygienic qualities possible to secure for the money expended.” Other information included the colors and types of textiles that wore the longest and faded the least. The exhibit on toys offered hints on their “playability, artistic quality, strength and durability and suggestiveness for toy
making at home.” Parents were reminded that play was one of the most important forms of education and were encouraged to have their children play with toys that required creativity and skills, such as building blocks and roller skates. One display showed how parents could create a home workshop for small woodworking projects for fourteen dollars. Yet another booth showed how the humblest tenement apartment could be made livable and attractive on a tight budget. Other booths featured more thought-provoking displays. At the booth sponsored by the Chicago Board of Health, an observer noticed a flashing red light, which at first annoyed her after a long day at the exhibit. Then she realized what each flash represented: the death of a child somewhere in the world from a preventable disease. Here, the observer wrote, the exhibit’s posters and displays “told it in a way that gets you. I watched woman after woman stand before it and then turn away with dimmed eyes.” Another dramatic exhibit showed an army of three thousand dolls revolving on a cylinder; Yesterday’s City | 47
every few seconds a scythe fell, dropping a doll into a bin. Each doll represented one of the infants who needlessly died in Chicago every year. One of the most unusual parts of the show—and a crowd favorite—was the “Living Exhibit” sponsored by the Chicago Public Schools. In twenty small rooms, students and their teachers conducted classes from 2:00 to 4:00 and 7:00 to 8:30 P. M . Girls demonstrated cooking and sewing classes, boys demonstrated printing and binding techniques, and groups of both boys and girls took part in art classes. Some classrooms also demonstrated the special educational needs of blind, deaf, and handicapped students. In these classrooms, the Chicago Tribune asserted, the children became “the most interesting feature” of the whole exhibit, which was a relief from the “somewhat depressing character of the booths on the main floor.” At the end of their tour, visitors could pick up souvenir
postcards, as well as a “health alphabet” issued for children by the City Health Department. As guests left the exhibit, they were asked to fill out cards answering the question, “What will you do better because of seeing the Child Welfare exhibit?” The best answers received a total of $400 in prizes. Of course, it is difficult, if not impossible, to measure the effects of an event such as the Child Welfare Exhibit. No one surveyed those who attended the exhibit about their responses, and no one followed the exhibit up with studies examining how many Chicago mothers actually changed their childrearing methods because of what they learned at the Coliseum in 1912. The new school of social work at the University of Chicago— the School of Social Service Administration—published an anthology of the papers from the exhibit called The Child in the City: A Series of Papers Presented at the Conferences Held During the Chicago Child Welfare Exhibit.
Above: The exhibit acknowledged that many families lived on limited budgets and tried to offer solutions. This display discussed how to clothe an entire family on a limited income. Below: Many children visited the exhibit; these youngsters viewed a series of posters on education.
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Some displays depicted the life-threatening conditions for children in the city’s lower-income housing, such as the “Dirty Air Is Death” booth (above) or one that graphically illustrated the high infant mortality rate (below).
Yesterday’s City | 49
Visitors watched children demonstrate trade skills that they could eventually use to earn a living. Boys crowded the printing office exhibition booth (above), while girls displayed their sewing skills (below).
The words of the journalists who described the exhibit can help to estimate the importance—at least at a symbolic level—of this archetypal Progressive Era exercise in education and advocacy. The Tribune characterized the exhibit as “graphic and human, as well as scientific and statistical . . . a lesson of scientific citizenship.” The experience of attending the exhibit gave visitors “a broad and yet vivid conception of the most constructive work a modern democracy can engage in, for the success of democracy depends upon the quality of democratic citizenship, and that quality is chiefly developed in childhood and youth.” Throughout the rest of the twentieth century, that “constructive work” would include the Children’s Bureau and Aid for Dependent Children, child labor laws and Head Start, Boys and Girls Clubs, and school lunch programs. All of these efforts to protect the “right to childhood” were legacies of the spirit and intent of the Child Welfare Exhibit. An appropriate epitaph for the exhibit, and a reasonable—if flowery—summary of its significance, appeared in School and Home Education, a journal published by the University of Illinois: 50 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
It is the voice of an awakened conscience, with reproach in its statement of facts and their implications. It is the voice of a throbbing heart with its tenderness and aspiration for the little ones. It is the voice of a mind beginning to understand not only that there is a problem, but with some idea of what must be done if we are to solve it. It is the voice of divine compassion with its realization of the solidarity of the human race.
Above: a teacher works with a deaf child. The Chicago exhibit’s attendance (right) surpassed that of the New York show. James Marten is professor and chair of the History Department at Marquette University in Wisconsin. He is the author of The Children’s Civil War (Univ. of North Carolina Pr., 2000) and director of the Children in Urban America Project, an online archive. I L L U S T R AT I O N S | 36, CHS, ICHi-26724; 37 left,
CHS; 37 right, CHS, DN-058026; 38 top, CHS, DN009188; 38 bottom, CHS, DN-0009185; 39 top, CHS, DN-0009186; 39 bottom, Chicago Tribune, May 12, 1911; 40 top, CHS, DN-0063953; 40 bottom, CHS, ICHi-38492; 41, CHS, ICHi-38491; 42, Chicago Tribune, May 11, 1911; 43 top, CHS, ICHi-26728; 43 bottom, CHS, ICHi-38489; 44 top, CHS, ICHi-38502; 44 bottom, CHS, ICHi-26720; 45, CHS, ICHi-38487; 46 top, CHS, ICHi-38503; 46 bottom, Chicago Tribune, May 26, 1911; 47, CHS, ICHi-38500; 48 top, ICHi-38490; 48 bottom, CHS, ICHi-38505; 49 top, CHS, ICHi38498; 49 bottom, CHS, ICHi-38499; 50 top, CHS, DN0009206; 50 bottom, CHS, ICHi-38504; 51 top, CHS, ICHi-38506; 51 right, Chicago Tribune, May 21, 1911.
Yesterday’s City | 51
MAKING HISTORY I
The Patron and the Artist: Interviews with Stanley M. Freehling and Richard Hunt T I M O T H Y J . G I L F OY L E
S
tanley M. Freehling and Richard Hunt both figured prominently in Chicago’s post–World War II cultural revival. A banker by profession, Freehling was in the words of one admirer, the “majordomo of the city’s arts benefactors.” The founding father of the Goodman Theatre’s modern era, he guided the once-unwanted department at the Art Institute of Chicago into a leading theater on the national stage. When the fortunes of the Arts Club went into decline, Freehling’s leadership resurrected the historic cultural institution. Freehling also raised millions of dollars for public art throughout Chicago as chairman of the Illinois Arts Council (1971) and the Percent for the Arts Program (1978). Jean Dubuffet’s Monument with Standing Beast (1984) in front of the James R. Thompson Center and Joan Miro’s Chicago (1981) across from Daley Center stand as testimony to his labors. Freehling’s multiple contributions to Chicago culture led one friend to dub the banker “the third lion,” a reference to the two lions that guard the Michigan Avenue entrance to the Art Institute of Chicago. The works of internationally renowned sculptor Richard Hunt are part of the permanent collections of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Museum of Modern Art, the Art Institute of Chicago, the Whitney Museum of American Art, the Cleveland Museum of Art, the Milwaukee Art Center, the National Museum of Israel in Jerusalem, and the Museum of the Twentieth Century in Vienna. Many consider Hunt to be the foremost public artist in the world. More than one hundred of his steel or bronze sculptures appear in indoor locations, urban plazas, and large outdoor sites all over North America. But Hunt’s art is most visible in the Chicago region. Millions of Chicagoans and visitors encounter his sculptures every day. North Side drivers pass Fox Box Hybrid (1979) in front of 900 Lake Shore Drive, while South Siders cannot miss Flight Forms (2002) beside Midway Airport at Fifty-ninth Street and Cicero Avenue. North Side L riders whiz by Eagle Columns (1989) in Jonquil Park at Wrightwood and Sheffield Avenues. Indiana commuters ride by Dune Growth (1985) and Interchange (1985) at the Gary Transportation Center on their way to Chicago. Bus riders pass below Freeform (1993) on the renovated State of Illinois Building at 160 North LaSalle Street. Illinois River Landscape (1984) looks down on pedestrians entering the Thompson Center across the street. Bookends (1997) highlights the third floor of the Evanston Public Library. 52 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
Stanley M. Freehling, the 2004 recipient of the Harold Washington History Maker Award for Distinction in Public Service.
Richard Hunt, the 2004 winner of the Archibald Motley Jr. History Maker Award for Distinction in Visual Arts.
Richard Hunt’s creation Freeform in front of Chicago’s State of Illinois Building. Making History | 53
Hunt grew up on the South Side near the intersection of Sixth-third and Halsted Streets, which at the time was a bustling corner of commerce. This bird’s-eye view shows the intersection in 1948.
Hunt was born on September 12, 1935, on Chicago’s South Side, the elder of two children. His father, Cleophus Howard Hunt, operated several barbershops in Chicago; his mother Victoria Inez Henderson Hunt was a beautician and librarian. “During the first four years of my life, we moved to several places in Woodlawn and then to Englewood,” remembers Hunt. Cleo Hunt eventually bought a building for his own storefront on Sixty-third Street near Racine Avenue. “We lived upstairs, and as a matter of fact, I had my first sculpture studio in the basement underneath the barbershop. “The neighborhood was very different from the Englewood that most people know today,” recalls Hunt. “It was a thriving area. Sixty-third and Halsted was the largest shopping area outside of the Loop. It was, in its own way, a diverse community.” When Hunt’s father opened his barbershop on Sixty-third Street, Hunt remembers him as one of the first African American store operators on the block. His neighbors included a Jewish “mom and pop” grocery store, an Irish tavern on the corner, and a sewing machine repair shop. Stanley Freehling, like Hunt, is a native South Sider. He was born on July 2, 1924, to Julius and Juliette Stricker Freehling in the Chicago Lying-In 54 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
Hospital on Hyde Park Boulevard. Freehling’s father died when he was six, so his mother and two older brothers raised him. The family first lived at Sixty-eighth Street and Crandon Avenue, and Freehling attended the nearby O’Keefe School. Later, when the Freehlings moved to the Shoreland Hotel in Hyde Park, Stanley attended the Harvard School for Boys at Forty-seventh Street and Ellis Avenue. After graduation, Freehling briefly attended the University of Chicago from 1942 to 1943, then entered the Army Specialized Training Program. Assigned to become a language specialist, he enrolled in Indiana University. After D-Day ended the army’s need for language specialists in 1944, Freehling was retrained as a cryptographer assigned to breaking codes. He was stationed in Guam in the Pacific. When the war ended, Freehling finished his education at the University of Stockholm in 1947, then embarked on a banking career. After completing a training program, he worked at the First National Bank of Chicago from 1947 to 1952. He eventually became a partner in his family-run investment bank Freehling Bros., later Freehling and Company. In 1987, he was named the investment executive director and special limited partner for SG Cowen Securities Corporation, where he remained until he became a vice president at Lehman Brothers in 2000. Freehling describes his ascendancy as a cultural entrepreneur as accidental. In 1950, “I was working at the First National, and Homer Livingston, who was chairman of the board of First National, was treasurer of the Art Institute,” he recalls. “They were silly enough to think that I should go over to the Art Institute and Homer should stay at the bank. So they shipped me over on loan to the Art Institute.” Freehling, with no training in art or art history, served as treasurer at the Art Institute. “I started to look at the art,” he remembers. “I bought a couple of things, and I got hooked.” Hunt got hooked on art much earlier. While attending William G. Beale Elementary School, Perkins Bass Elementary School, and Englewood High School on the South Side, Hunt began taking classes at the Junior School of the Art Institute. These classes were instrumental in his artistic education, and he eventually enrolled as a full-time student at the School of the Art Institute under the tutelage of Nelli Barr, Ray Fink, Herman Garfield, and Egon Weiner. He graduated in 1957. Artists Julio Gonzalez and David Smith inspired Hunt, specifically their use of direct-metal techniques to transform steel, aluminum, copper, and bronze into sculpture. Hunt taught himself welding and soon the torch became his mallet and chisel. Like many artists of his generation, he reveled in “found objects”—metal garbage and auto parts from industrial sites. His genius manifested in an ability to transform inorganic metals into organic plant- and insect-like forms, best illustrated by his Arachne. In 1957, the Museum of Modern Art purchased the piece and included it in their annual show, making Hunt the youngest African American ever to exhibit at the museum.
When he was growing up, Freehling and his family lived for a time in the Shoreland Hotel in Hyde Park. Above: The Shoreland Hotel area in 1960.
Making History | 55
By 1960, Hunt was a highly regarded open-form, direct-metal sculptor. Critics and curators have described his work as biological, anthropomorphic, formalist, abstract, lyrical, metaphorical, and subjective, but “hybridity” emerges as the most common theme: Large Hybrid (1974) at the Hirshhorn Museum & Sculpture Garden in Washington, D.C.; Planar Hybrid (1974) in the Nathan Manilow Sculpture Garden at Governors State University; Harlem Hybrid (1976) at Roosevelt Square in New York City; Fox Box Hybrid (1979) in front of 900 Lake Shore Drive in Chicago; and Active Hybrid (1997) at Rudy Park in Dowagaic, Michigan. In these and other works, Hunt mixes the ordinary and the unusual, synthesizing European modernism, American abstraction, Western religion, fantastic forms, and African American history. This interdisciplinarity allows Hunt’s art to evoke the past while standing firmly in the present. Whereas much twentieth-century art focused on art and object for its own sake, Hunt moved beyond this theme to history and social issues of contemporary life. Religion also appears as a frequent motif in Hunt’s work. “My father was Methodist and my mother was Baptist,” explains Hunt. “They were kind of ecumenical. Sometimes we’d all go to the Methodist church, sometimes the Baptist church.” Hunt attributes his interest in religion to multiple factors: “My background’s rooted in what you would call religious experience. As an African American, the life of the church and the community has traditionally been very close, partly because churches were the only social experience many Africans could have during slavery and segregation.” Hunt’s family eventually joined the Shiloh Baptist Church at Sixty-second and May Streets (now at Seventy-first and Racine Streets), and Cleo Hunt later became a trustee at St. John’s African Methodist Episcopal Church. In 1976, Hunt designed a cross for his father’s church. Over time, Hunt’s commissions included crosses in St. Matthew’s Methodist Church (1970) and Holy Angels Roman Catholic Church (1991), where he also designed the altar, lectern, and tabernacle. His other religious works include Jacob’s Ladder (1978) at the Carter Woodson Library; The Bush Was Not Consumed (1983) at Temple B’Nai Israel in Kankakee, Illinois; and St. Procopius (1997) in Lisle, Illinois. Freehling mirrored Hunt’s interest in multiple art forms when he was named to the Goodman Theatre Committee of the Art Institute. At that time, the theater was both a physical and institutional part of the museum. A decade later, when Freehling assumed the chairmanship of the committee, he faced the daunting task of eliminating the theater’s huge deficit. Freehling offered a drastic solution: get rid of the Goodman Theatre’s drama school. He believed separating the theater from the drama school would allow both to develop their own programs and independence. At first, the University of Illinois expressed interest in acquiring the school, but no agreement was reached due to conflicts of timing and logistics. In 1977, DePaul University made inquiries about acquiring the school. “I had a friend, a fellow named Bob Drevs, who was chairman of People’s Gas and DePaul,” Freehling recounts. “We 56 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
Religion is one of Hunt’s most frequent themes. Below: Hunt’s cross at St. Matthew’s Methodist Church on Chicago’s Near North Side (1970).
made a deal, for a buck.” On July 1, 1978, the Goodman School was sold to DePaul for one dollar and became the ninth college of DePaul University, where it has flourished ever since. Freehling notes, “I don’t think I ever got that buck.” At the same time, the Art Institute took steps to phase out its financial support of the Goodman. Again Freehling stepped into the cultural cauldron, convincing theater and museum proponents alike to “recreate” the Goodman as the Chicago Theatre Group, Inc., a new nonprofit corporation separate from the Art Institute. By the end of the 1979 season, the Goodman stood as a fully independent entity. Most importantly, under Freehling’s leadership, annual subscriptions to the Goodman rose from less than ten thousand to more than twenty-one thousand. In fall 2000, the new $43 million Goodman Theatre opened. Just as Freehling helped revive theater in Chicago, Richard Hunt transformed public art. Hunt’s individual gallery sculptures generated his early fame, but his greatest influence originated in the power of his public art. Transforming and fusing massive pieces of raw metal in open, public spaces attracted widespread acclaim and respect. Unlike gallery art, describes Hunt, public art involves “the process of conceiving that work is relating to either architecture or some other kind of space, whether it’s a park setting or an urban plaza, and the kind of activity that goes on in that place.” Hunt’s memorial to Martin Luther King Jr., I Have Been to the Mountain (1977) in Memphis, and his celebration of emancipation in the Freedmen’s Column (1989) at Howard University reflect his interest in the African American experience. Hunt expresses his love of poetry in Slabs of the Sunburnt West (1975), inspired by a Carl Sandburg poem, and And You, Seas (2002) in St. Joseph, Michigan, based on a Saint-John Perse poem. For Hunt, public sculpture offers a vehicle to combine self-expression with a larger public purpose. Public art also demands different talents from the artist. “The creative process is in a dialogue between the space’s requirements and what architects call ‘the program,’” Hunt points out. “So rather than something that’s selfgenerated, self-contained within its own boundaries, it interacts with space.”
Freehling is credited with rejuvenating the Goodman Theatre’s future, as this 1979 Chicago Tribune headline announces.
Making History | 57
Richard Hunt’s work often returns to the theme of civil rights. In 1977, he created a monument to Martin Luther King Jr., I Have Been to the Mountaintop, in welded corten steel in 1977.
Hunt’s introduction to public art originated with a commission from his friend, architect Walter Netsch. While designing the John J. Madden Mental Health Center in Hines, Illinois, Netsch requested Hunt to develop a sculpture for the site. “I had this opportunity to work with a serious, talented architect,” remembers Hunt. “It was a way to move from being solely a studio artist to becoming a public artist.” Hunt’s timing was fortuitous. Pablo Picasso’s Untitled (1967) in Daley Plaza, Marc Chagall’s Four Seasons (1974) in Bank One Plaza, and Alexander Calder’s Flamingo (1974) in Federal Center Plaza had ushered in a new era of public art, subsidized by both government agencies and private corporations. “As a high school kid, we were modeling in clay, using traditional figures,” Hunt remembers. “Then going to the Art Institute, one followed a beaux arts–oriented art education,” all of which was “aimed at exhibitions and galleries.” While the Works Progress Administration of the 1930s commissioned murals in public buildings, “the international style and ideas about economy mitigated against the adornment of buildings,” believes Hunt. Public art offered new opportunities and new problems. As a studio artist, “you don’t have to convey your ideas to someone else so that they can help you carry them out,” Hunt explains. Self-directed art requires only an idea or a sketch. By contrast, “commissioned works require drawings and models,” he emphasizes, “not only for me to develop the idea, but to communicate to the people who are commissioning it and allow for some sort of dialogue about how the idea is shaped.” In time, “you develop relationships with the engineer who translates things from the sketch or the model, with the shop manager, and maybe the person who operates the machine.” In the end, the public artist is compelled “to be comfortable in all the interactions that take place with people who aren’t artists.” Hunt’s and Freehling’s early achievements quickly generated new invitations and opportunities. Freehling’s success in reviving the Goodman Theatre was repeated on other projects. He proved to be a savior to the Arts Club of 58 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
The Arts Club of Chicago greatly benefited from Stanley Freehling’s involvement. This view of the club at its original location, 109 East Ontario Street, highlights the floating staircase designed by Mies van der Rohe. In the late 1990s, the club (and the staircase) moved to a new location one block east. Below: The Arts Club lobby featured some of the organization’s most impressive pieces of art from its collection.
Making History | 59
In Jacob’s Ladder (1977), which resides in the Carter Woodson branch of the Chicago Public Library, Hunt explored the African American drive for spirituality and education.
60 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
Chicago. Founded in 1916, the Arts Club introduced Chicago to the works of Salvador Dali, Marc Chagall, Robert Motherwell, and Pablo Picasso (who had his first solo show there in 1923). Over the course of the twentieth century, Arts Club members and patrons included Carl Sandburg, Saul Bellow, John Updike, Arthur Rubinstein, Martha Graham, and Archibald MacLeish. Mies van der Rohe designed the club’s famed “floating staircase” in 1951, the architect’s lone intact separately designed interior. But the Arts Club had hit severe financial straits by the 1980s. Its small endowment, mounting costs, dwindling membership (down to 750), and increased competition from commercial galleries and museums threatened the existence of the institution. Freehling quickly turned things around. In hopes of increasing the membership, he devised imaginative solutions such as a dinner-and-art auction benefit in 1986, and a supper cabaret in 1988 with a cast of Arts Club members and written by playwright Bernard Sahlins. By the mid-1990s, membership had risen to 1,250. Freehling’s most controversial strategy was his decision to sell Constantin Brancusi’s Golden Bird in 1990. He explains: “I chose the Brancusi because it was the only piece that would go for the kind of money that I wanted.” Sotheby’s and Christie’s auction houses estimated that the sculpture was worth between $10 and $20 million. But rather than simply selling the art to the highest bidder, Freehling devised a civic solution. He appealed to Art Institute president James Wood to purchase the Brancusi for $12 million, keeping it in Chicago while improving the Arts Club’s finances. The sale insured the continuation of the Club and provided much-needed funds for the expansion and improvement of the Club’s activities, including relocating in the near future. Even moving, however, proved to be controversial. The Arts Club relocated to 201 East Ontario Street in 1997 after developer John Buck bought and redeveloped the original 109 East Ontario Street site a block away. Freehling recruited architect John Vinci to design a new home for the club. The 19,000-square-foot building included gallery and reception spaces, a salon that converted into a two-hundred-seat auditorium, private meeting rooms, a large dining room, and a commercial kitchen. The Mies van der Rohe–designed staircase, salvaged from the club’s former location, linked the first and second floors. Just as Stanley Freehling never shied away from controversy in his artistic patronage, Richard Hunt’s art often challenged prevailing opinion. Two works illustrate Hunt’s ability to negotiate the difficult terrain of public art. In Jacob’s Ladder (1977), Hunt combined his interests in religion, classical music, and education. In the twenty-seven-foot atrium of the Chicago Public Library’s Carter Woodson branch, Hunt envisioned a metaphor for knowledge and opportunity. “There’s a spiritual, ‘We Are Climbing Jacob’s Ladder,’” explains Hunt, “and the idea of climbing related to education.” Two giant welded bronze arms reach down to the floor, each with large claws at the end. One claw holds a twisted ladder; the other is open and empty, referencing the biblical theme of human aspiration and the African American emphasis on education. The work also illustrates Hunt’s conception of sculpture. “Julio Gonzales talked of sculpture as drawing in space, and sculpture being the marriage of material and space,” Hunt reiterates, which became his goal in Jacob’s Ladder. Hunt likes to quote his friend, artist Isamu Noguchi: “Sculpture is an art of space.” On Chicago’s North Side, Eagle Columns (1989) in Jonquil Park represents another quintessential Hunt sculpture. Built on the site of a former streetcar barn and across from Hunt’s Lill Street studio, Eagle Columns stands as a monument to John Peter Altgeld, the still-controversial Illinois governor from
Eagle Columns (1989) stands in Chicago’s Jonquil Park as a testament to Illinois governor John Peter Altgeld, whom Hunt describes as “revered by many and scorned by some.”
Making History | 61
1893 to 1897 (who lived near Jonquil Park) who pardoned the men convicted for the deaths of seven policemen in Haymarket Square in 1886. Altgeld was, in Hunt’s words, “a humanist revered by many and scorned by some.” In Eagle Columns, Hunt transforms abstract metal into natural forms while simultaneously raising troubling memories about Chicago’s past. Similar to Hunt, Freehling rarely avoided a difficult assignment. Freehling’s success in reviving dormant cultural organizations attracted other interested institutions, and he rarely turned down a request for help. He remains a generous benefactor and knowledgeable advisor to the University of Chicago’s cultural institutions. As a life trustee of the university, Freehling served on the David and Alfred Smart Museum’s advisory Board of Governors after 1987, helping to increase the museum’s visibility in Chicago and to raise funds for programs and operations. In 1997, he cochaired the Smart’s annual autumn benefit, which attracted more than five hundred people, generating more than twice the projected funds. Freehling also served as an honorary member of the Court Theatre’s Board of Trustees and on the national steering committee for its capital campaign. Not surprisingly, Hunt and Freehling have crossed paths. After meeting while jointly serving on the board of the Illinois Arts Council in the 1970s, Freehling became a patron of Hunt. “Stanley was supportive of not only my work,” explains Hunt, “but he helped me get started with my first studio building.” When the artist found a suitable studio facility—a former electrical subgenerating station for trolley cars on West Lill Street—Freehling helped Hunt find an affordable mortgage. With forty-five-foot ceilings, a full-size crane, and a load-bearing support system, the studio enabled Hunt to forge the massive pieces of his oeuvre. But their relationship did not end there. “Over the years,” Hunt adds, Freehling “got me involved with various boards, such as Ravinia and the Arts Club.” Of all of the groups with which he works, Freehling says his favorite cultural organization is the Ravinia Festival in Highland Park. As chair of Ravinia’s board of trustees, he initiated a successful capital campaign in 1969. Freehling was instrumental in rebuilding Ravinia’s aging music pavilion, resulting in a wider stage, an enlarged orchestra pit, new dressing and locker rooms, and an improved 62 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
Freehling helped Hunt find an affordable mortgage for his Lill Street Studio (above).
Freehling (below) in the Ravinia office, 1967.
Freehling helped turn Ravinia from a quaint outdoor concert space (above) into a large, profitable festival series (left).
Making History | 63
The 2004 Making History Award winners (left to right): Jim McDonough (accepting the award on behalf of Ron Santo), James J. O’Connor, Carol Marin, Richard Hunt, and Stanley M. Freehling.
sound system. Freehling wanted Ravinia to be professionally managed, so he lured Edward Gordon from the Grant Park Orchestra in 1968. Gordon was ordered to “turn the place around” and shortly thereafter eliminated the $168,000 deficit. Freehling’s interest went past Ravinia’s finances and infrastructure. “I had a vision that we should change the look, the mixture of Ravinia,” he insists. “I thought it was stodgy, and it didn’t stay stodgy long.” Freehling went after younger audiences by staging a production of the rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar and by booking rock singer Janis Joplin. On one occasion, Freehling laughs, the crowd’s youthful enthusiasm grew so boisterous, “they had to call the police.” By 1990, Ravinia was among the most successful big-money arts festivals in the U.S. In 1971, Freehling established the Fund To Assure Ravinia’s Future; by 1998, it had accumulated $50 million. Some refer to Stanley and Joan Freehling as “Mr. and Mrs. Ravinia.” “I love Ravinia,” Freehling admits. “Of all the institutions that I’ve been involved in, Ravinia has given me the most pleasure.” Freehling worries about the new world of cultural philanthropy. As a banker, he is quick to note the disappearance of the First National Bank of Chicago and Continental Bank, while foreign enterprises control others such as the Harris Trust and LaSalle Bank. “In my day, Continental Bank and Inland Steel were big donors,” Freehling remembers, “Now, for Ravinia or the Chicago Symphony Orchestra or the Goodman Theatre to get money, they get sponsorships. That’s an entirely different thing than we ever did years ago.” Few would disagree that Freehling and Hunt evoke Chicago. Hunt’s “soaring and majestic figures are like that city in many ways: bold, unapologetic, with an ambition and sweep that is quintessentially and proudly Midwestern,” states Kinshasha Holman Conwill of the Studio Museum in Harlem. Hunt’s public sculpture and Freehling’s leadership have revived the city’s cultural landscape and earned them monumental places in Chicago’s history. 64 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
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. I L LU S T R AT I O N S | 52, CHS; 53, courtesy of Richard Hunt; 54, CHS, ICHi-
04694; 55, CHS, ICHi-38784; 56, courtesy of Richard Hunt; 57, “Good News from Goodman” by Linda Winer, copyrighted April 4, 1979, Chicago Tribune Company. All rights reserved. Used with permission.; 58, courtesy of Richard Hunt; 59 top, CHS, HB-17357J; 59 bottom, CHS, HB-17357B; 60–61, courtesy of Richard Hunt; 62 top, courtesy of Richard Hunt; 62 bottom, courtesy of Stanley M. Freehling; 63 top, CHS, HB-6587-N; 63 bottom, CHS; 64, CHS. F O R F U RT H E R R E A D I N G | An introduction to Stanley Freehling appears in Cassandra Fortin, “A Lion of the Arts,” Chicago Tribune, 30 Aug. 1998. An overview of the Arts Club is The Arts Club of Chicago: Seventy-fifth Anniversary Exhibition, 1916–1991 (Chicago, 1992). A good introduction to Richard Hunt can be found at www.h-net.msu.edu/~rhunt/begin.html. Biographical overviews appear in Contemporary Black Biography (Detroit: Gale Research, 1994) and the MacMillan Encyclopedia of African-American Culture and History (New York: MacMillan, 1998). An excellent summary and analysis of Hunt’s art since 1990 appears in Horace Brockington, “Richard Hunt: Overview,” in Museum of African American History, Detroit, Richard Hunt: Affirmations (Washington, D.C.: International Arts & Artists, 1998), 9–12. T H E 2 0 0 4 M A K I N G H I S T O R Y AWA R D S were underwritten through
a generous grant from Northern Trust with additional support provided by Exelon Corporation.
Making History | 65
Index to Volume 33 This index includes author, title, and subject entries. In each page reference, the issue number comes first, followed by a colon and the page number(s) on which the reference appears. Illustrations are indicated in italics. If a subject is illustrated and discussed on the same page, the illustration is not separately indicated.
A Aaron, Sister St. Adele, 1:19 ABC-TV, 1:69–70 Abernathy, Ralph, 3:23, 27 Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (AIDS), 3:17 Addams, Jane, 3:37, 39, 44 Adolescents. See Teenagers African American teenagers, 2:22 television reporter, 1:58 Agnew, Vice President Spiro, 3:32 Aid for Dependent Children, 3:50 AIDS, 3:17 Aladdin’s Castle (amusement ride), 2:50 Allen, Elizabeth, 1:42 Allinson, Thomas W., 3:37 Allstate Insurance, 1:65 Alter, Peter T., and Leigh Moran, “A Compassionate Eye: The Photographs of Declan Haun, 1961–69,” 3:18–35 Alter, Peter T., “Chicago’s Global Communities,” 1:50–57 Altgeld, John Peter, 3:61–62 Alvarez, Vanessa, 2:33, 36–40 American Institute for Public Service, Thomas Jefferson Award, 1:56 AMR Corporation, 1:58 Amusement rides, 2:49–51 And You, Seas (sculpture), 3:57 Andrienne, Sister, 1:18 Annunciation Parish School, 1:12 Arachne (sculpture), 3:55 Arai, Harold (interview), 2:43, 45–48 Ariés, Philippe, 2:13 Arledge, Roone, 1:69–70 Art Institute of Chicago, 3:52 Arts Club of Chicago, 3:58–61 Aubrey, Mildred, 1:27
B Baby Week Campaign, 3:40 Balagot, Jordan, 2:4 Baltic Grammar School, 2:49 Bambino, 3:37, 39 Barr, Nelli, 3:55 Barton, Rachel, 2:8 Basker, Robert, 3:8, 11, 13, 17 Benson & Rixon Department Store, 1:60 Berry, Chuck (recording), 2:30, 31 Bicakcic, Bakir, 2:5, 33, 60–64 66 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
Bivins, Joy L., and Harvey J. Graff, “Coming of Age in Chicago,” 2:12–31 Black Panthers, 3:31 Black Star (picture agency), 3:18, 22 Blackstone Rangers, 3:28, 31 Blaine, Anita McCormick, 3:39 Blanco, Jodee (interview), 2:60–64 Blanco, Jodee, Please Stop Laughing at Me, 2:60 Bobs roller coaster, 2:50–51 Bogan High School (Chicago), 3:29 Bookends (sculpture), 3:52 Books for soldiers (1917), 1:32 Bowen, Louise deKoven, 1:37, 42, 46, 48 Boynton, Virginia R., “Girls, We Must Enlist!”, 1:26–49 Boys and Girls Clubs, 3:50 Bradford, Jim, 3:13, 14, 16, 17 Brancusi, Constantin, 3:61 Breckinridge, Sophonisba, 3:39, 40 Brennan, Edward A., 1:58–72 Brennan, Edward J., 1:58 Brennan, Lois, 1:70 Brennan, Margaret (Bourget), 1:58 “Bringing Attitude to Histor y: The Teen Council,” article by Raymond Yang, 2:32–35 Broomell, C. C. (Mrs.), 1:49 Brown, Sister Mary Editha, 1:4 Buck, John, 3:61 Bunch, Lonnie G., 1:71, 2:4 Burda, Beverly Ann, 1:9 The Bush Was Not Consumed (sculpture), 3:56 BVMs. See Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary
C Cabrini Homes, 2:41, 42, 45, 46 Calder, Alexander, 3:58 Caldwell, Sister Mary Remi (Rose), 1:21–22 Calumet River, 2:56 Cameron Elementary School, 1:21, 23 Camp Fire Girls, 3:40 Camp News, 2:57 Carolan, Sister Mary Adrienne, 1:18, 20 Carousel horse (Riverview), 2:51 Carson Pirie Scott, 1:41–43 Casey, Sister Mary St. Florence (Miriam), 1:10, 17 Catcher in the Rye (novel), 2:6 Catholic Charities, 1:23 Cecile, Sister Jean, 1:20 Chagall, Marc, 3:58 Champagne, Carmelite Martinez, 1:14, 16
Champagne, Hugh, 1:14, 16, 17 Champagne, Louis, 1:14, 16 Champagne, Sister Mary Clare Therese (Eloise Carmelite), 1:4, 14–17 Charles F. Gunther store, 2:16 Charlotte, North Carolina, photographs of, 3:34, 35 Charlotte Observer (newspaper), 3:18, 20 Chicago Ashburn neighborhood, 3:29 Black Belt, 2:22 Cabrini Homes, 2:41, 42, 45, 46 Cardinals (football team), 2:49 “Chicago’s Global Communities,” 1:50–57 Civil Rights Movement, 1:65; 2:22; 3:28–31 cultural revival, 3:52 gay population (See Gay Rights) housing projects, 2:46 Italians in, 2:46 juvenile court system, 3:40 Marquette Park, 3:38 open housing marches, 3:28 Our Lady of the Angels school fire, 1:4–25 police, and homosexuals, 3:4, 9, 12, 13 public art, 3:52, 57–58 South Shore neighborhood, 2:55 teenagers in, 2:4–64 Uptown community, 1:56 Chicago Board of Health, 3:47 Chicago Child Welfare Exhibit, 3:36–51 Chicago Coliseum, 3:36, 37, 38 Chicago Commons, 1:46 Chicago Gay Alliance, 3:13, 16 Chicago Historical Society Declan Haun Archive, 3:18 “My History Is Your History,” 2:17 Teen Chicago exhibition, 2:12–31 “Chicago Natives: Interviews with Edward A. Brennan and Carole Simpson,” article by Timothy J. Gilfoyle, 1:58–72 Chicago Public Library, books for soldiers (1917), 1:32 Chicago Public Schools, Child Welfare Exhibit, 3:48 Chicago School of Civics and Philanthropy, 3:39 Chicago (sculpture), 3:52 Chicago Symphony Orchestra, 3:64 Chicago Telephone Traffic Union workers, 1:20 Chicago Theatre, 2:43 Chicago Theatre Group, Inc., 3:57 Chicago Wards. See under Ward Number, e.g. Sixth Ward Chicago Woman’s Club, 1:27–28; 3:39 “Chicago’s Global Communities,” article by Peter T. Alter, 1:50–57 The Child in the City: A Series of Papers Presented at the Conferences Held During the Chicago Child Welfare Exhibit, 3:48 Child welfare, 1:28, 30–32 Child Welfare Exhibit, 3:36–51 architectural model, 3:38 cartoon, 3:42 floor plan, 3:43
Children dental care, 3:47 health care, 1:30–33; 3:40, 44, 49 immigrant, 3:39 Children’s Bureau, 3:40, 50 “Children’s Year” (1918), 1:30 Cicero, Illinois, 3:28–30 “Citizen of the Year Award,” 1:18 Civil Rights Act, and sexual minorities, 3:4 Civil Rights Movement, 1:62, 65; 2:22, 3:19, 22 Clarke, Mary Frances, 1:4 Coal shortage, 1:28, 30 Cogley, John, 1:18 Coldwell Banker Real Estate Group, 1:65, 70 Coliseum (Chicago), 3:36, 37–38 “Coming of Age in Chicago,” article by Joy L. Bivins and Harvey J. Graff, 2:12–31 Coming of Age (Teen Chicago play), 2:10, 34 “A Compassionate Eye: The Photographs of Declan Haun, 1961–69,” article by Leigh Moran and Peter T. Alter, 3:18–35 Conflicting Paths: Growing Up in America (book), 2:5 Congress of Racial Equality, 3:28 Congressional election (1962), 3:20 Cooper, Roberta (interview), 2:49–54 “Corn Kitchens,” 1:37 Council of National Defense, 1:27 Court Theatre, 3:62 Cussen, Monsignor Joseph, 1:12, 22, 24
D Daley, Mayor Richard J., 1:23; 3:28 Daley, Steve, newspaper column on Carole Simpson, 1:68 Dance trends, 2:27, 30 Daughers of Bilitis, 3:8 David and Alfred Smart Museum, 3:62 De Barr, Arlene, 1:15 Dean Witter Reynolds Organization, 1:65 DeCock, Sister Mary Donatus, 1:17, 18 Dee-Jay Foods, 2:19 DeGraff, Deanne (interview), 2:49–54 Delinquency, 2:14 D’Emilio, John, 3:7 Demos, John, 2:13 DePaul University, and Goodman School, 3:56–57 Detroit Free Press (newspaper), 3:18 Detroit Lions (football team), 2:49 Devine, Sister Davidis (Lenore), 1:9 Dill Pickle Club (Chicago), 3:5 Doud, Jacqueline Powers, 1:18, 21 Draft protests, 2:58–59 Dress code, teenagers, 2:50 Dubuffet, Jean, 3:52 Dune Growth (sculpture), 3:52 Dunham, C., 1:34 DuSable High School, 2:22 Index to Volume 33 | 67
E Eagle Columns (sculpture), 3:52, 61–62 Edward Jenner Elementary School, 2:47 Egan, Monsignor John “Jack,” 1:18, 24 Elderkin, Claire, 2:5, 33, 34 Eleventh Ward, and IWC efforts, 1:46, 49 Elizabeth McCormick Memorial Fund, 3:37 Emmons, Helen R., 3:38 English brides of servicemen (Korean War), 2:54 Ennis, Gerald, 1:18 Ennis, Rose Dempsey, 1:18 Ennis, Sister Mary (Rosaleen June) Geraldita, 1:17, 18, 21, 25 Ethnic relations, 2:43–44, 46, 47
F Fair Labor Standards Act (FLSA), 2:15, 18 Farrow, William III, 2:7 Fashion show (Charlotte, North Carolina), 3:34 Federation of Day Nurseries, 1:30 Fink, Ray, 3:55 Fire codes in Chicago schools, 1:23 Fire safety, 1:9 Flamingo (sculpture), 3:58 Flight Forms (sculpture), 3:52 Flu epidemic. See Influenza epidemic (1918) Food conservation program, 1:37–45 Food Production and Conservation Committee, 1:37 Foods, canning, 1:38–39 Four Seasons (sculpture), 3:58 Fourteenth Ward, and IWC efforts, 1:46 Fox, Charles, 2:5, 33, 34 Fox Box Hybrid (sculpture), 3:52 Frances Cabrini Homes. See Cabrini Homes Francis W. Parker School, 2:45, 47, 48 Freedmen’s Column (sculpture), 3:57 Freeform (sculpture), 3:52, 53 Freehling and Company, 3:55 Freehling, Juliette Stricker, 3:54 Freehling, Julius, 3:54 Freehling, Stanley M., 3:52–65 Freehling Bros., 3:55 Friendship and Freedom (newsletter), 3:5 Fulton, Ari, 2:5, 6, 33, 55–59 Fun Lounge raid, 3:4–7 Fyffe, Colin C. H., 3:37
G Gardens, Victory, 1:29 Garfield, Herman, 3:55 Gauger, Louis, 3:4 Gay Pride parades, 3:12, 15 Gay rights movement poster, 3:17 protests, 3:10–11 “Standing Up for Gay Rights” (article), 3:4–17 Generation Gap, 2:14, 22, 24, 26 Gerber, Henry, 3:5, 7 Gertz, Tom, 3:16 68 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
Gilfoyle, Timothy J. “Chicago Natives: Interviews with Edward A. Brennan and Carole Simpson,” 1:58–72 “The Patron and the Artist: Interviews with Stanley M. Freehling and Richard Hunt,” 3:52–65 “Girls, We Must Enlist!”, article by Virginia R. Boynton, 1:26–49 Glaspell, Susan, 3:36, 47 Glenmary Sisters (Catholic mission), 3:21 Golden Bird (sculpture), 3:61 Goldwater, Barry (campaign), 3:24 Gonzales, Julio, 3:55, 61 Goodman Theatre, 3:52, 56, 57 Gordon, Edward, 3:64 Gott, Peter, 3:34 Grace Episcopal Church, 3:44 Grace, Sweet Daddy, 3:21 Graff, Harvey, and Joy L. Bivins, “Coming of Age in Chicago,” 2:12–31 Graff, Harvey, Conflicting Paths: Growing Up in America (book), 2:5 Granada Theatre door, 2:37 Greer, Jerron, 2:33, 34, 49–54 Griffin, Sable, 2:5, 33 Grocery store (1985), 2:19 Gunther candy store, 2:16
H Handschiegel, Thomas, 1:12 Harlan High School letterman sweater, 2:21 Harlem Hybrid (sculpture), 3:56 Harris (coach), 2:44 Harrison Technical High School, 2:20 Hart, Pearl, 3:8, 11 Haun, Charlie, 3:18 Haun, Declan, 3:18–35 Hay, Harry, 3:7 Hay Elementary School, 1:23 Hayden, Tom, 1:62 Head Start program, 3:50 Health care, for children, 1:30–33; 3:40, 44, 49 Heber, Alana, 2:5, 33, 34, 45–48 Henry Booth Settlement House, 3:37 Henry Street Settlement House (New York City), 3:44 High school bullying, 2:60–64 peer groups, 2:39–40 yearbooks, 2:14 History museums, and teenagers, 2:11 Hodgkins, Mae Press, 1:41 Homophile movement. See Gay Rights Homosexuals. See Gay Rights “Hoover Costumes,” 1:41 “Hoover pledge cards,” 1:42 Hopkins, W. R., 3:38 Housing projects. See also Cabrini Homes ethnic relations in, 2:46 Hoy, Suellen, “Stunned with Sorrow,” 1:4–25 Hull-House, 1:41, 3:39 Hunt, Cleophus Howard, 3:54 Hunt, Richard, 3:52–65 Hunt, Victoria Inez Henderson, 3:54
I “I have a dream” speech, 3:22 I Have Been to the Mountain (sculpture), 3:57, 58 Identity, personal, sources of, 2:5 Illinois Arts Council, 3:52 Illinois National Guardsmen, and civil rights march, 3:30 Illinois River Landscape (sculpture), 3:52 Illinois State Council of Defense (SCD), 1:27 Illinois Veterans of Foreign Wars, 1:18 Illinois Woman’s Committee (IWC), 1:27–49 Immaculata High School, 1:12 Immigrant children, 3:39 Infant mortality rate (exhibit), 3:47–49 Infant Welfare Society, 1:30–31 Influenza epidemic (1918), 1:46–48 Interchange (sculpture), 3:52 Internment camps (WWII), 2:45 Interviews, by teenagers, 2:36–64 Italians, in Chicago, 2:46 IWC. See Illinois Woman’s Committee (IWC)
J Jacob’s Ladder (sculpture), 3:56, 60, 61 Japanese internment camps (WWII), 2:45 Jenner Elementary School, 2:47 John J. Madden Mental Health Center, 3:58 Johnson, President Lyndon B., 3:4 Jones, Ira, 3:5, 8, 11, 17 Jones, Landon, 2:4, 5, 9, 33, 34, 41–44 Journal writing, 2:6 Justice (photograph), 3:19
K Kane, Matt, 2:5, 33 Kelley, Anna Laing, 1:12 Kelley, Bill, 3:16 Kelley, James, 1:12 Kelley, Sister Mary Seraphica (Anna Virginia), 1:4, 12, 14 Kelly, Florence, 3:44 Kett, Joseph, 2:13 Kindergarten, in Chicago, 3:39 King, Martin Luther, Jr. Birmingham, Alabama, 1:62, 3:23 Chicago open housing marches, 3:28 funeral, 3:32, 33 “I have a dream” speech, 3:22 Montgomery, Alabama, 3:26 Selma, Alabama, 3:26, 27 Kingsley, Sherman C., 3:37 Korean War, English brides of servicemen, 2:54 Kuda, Marie, 3:16
L The Ladder (journal), 3:8 Lake View High School grade book, 2:21 Lancaster, Roland, 3:11 Landers, Ann, 3:12
Lane Tech High School prom, 2:23 Lane Tech High School megaphone, 2:21 Langworthy, Mary L., 1:34, 49 Large Hybrid (sculpture), 3:56 Lathrop, Julia C., 3:44 Lehman Brothers, 3:55 Lewis, Ramsey, 2:47 “Liberty Chips,” 1:37 Liberty Loan parade (1918), 1:30, 37 Life magazine, 3:18 Lindblom Technical High School, 2:39 Lion dancing, 1:57 Lipman, Paul, 2:7 Livingston, Homer, 3:55 Loretto Hospital, 1:21 Lowden, Frank O., 1:27 Lucas, Robert, 3:28 Luna Park (amusement park), 2:26 Lyng, Bridget Butler, 1:4, 12 Lyng, John, 1:12 Lyng, Michael, 1:12 Lyng, Sister Mary St. Canice (Mary Ellen), 1:4, 12
M Madonna High School jacket, 2:63 Maenza, David J. (interview), 2:41–44 Maher, Sister Madeleine (Kathryn), 1:23 Making History Award winners Brennan, Edward A., 1:58–72 Freehling, Stanley M., 3:52–65 Hunt, Richard, 3:52–65 Simpson, Carole, 1:58–72 Malaysia, Vietnamese refugee camps in, 1:55 Maloney, Yvette (interview), 2:36–40 Mandela, Nelson, 1:71 March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, 3:22 Marin, Carol, 1:71; 3:65 Marks, Harold E., 1:11 Marquette University, 1:61 Marshall Field Histor y Maker Award. See Making History Award winners Marten, James, “‘No Beer for Babies’: The Child Welfare Exhibit,” 3:36–51 Mattachine Midwest (Chicago), 3:4–17 Mattachine Midwest Newsletter, 3:9, 13, 14 Mattachine Review (journal), 3:7 Maurer, Wesley, 1:62 Mayer, Kay, 2:7 McCarron, Walter E., 1:11 McCollough, Bishop Walter, 3:21 McCormick, Cyrus, Jr., 3:37, 39 McCormick, Elizabeth, 3:37 McCormick, Mrs. Harriet B. (Hammond), 3:37 McCutcheon, John T. (cartoon), 3:42 McDonald’s (c. 1958), 2:18 McDonough, Jim, 3:65 McElligott, Sister Agnes Loretta (Alice), 1:23 McManus, Monsignor William E., 1:4, 8, 18, 20 Medill School of Journalism, 1:61 Index to Volume 33 | 69
Mehren, Sister Giles, 1:19 Mellender, Teresa, 1:49 Meyer, Archbishop Albert G., 1:8, 24 Mies van der Rohe, Ludwig, 3:61 Milwaukee Journal (newspaper), 3:7 Miro, Joan, 3:52 Monument with Standing Beast (sculpture), 3:52 Morality efforts, in World War I, 1:33, 37 Moran, Leigh, and Peter T. Alter, “A Compassionate Eye: The Photographs of Declan Haun, 1961–69,” 3:18–35 Mount Carmel Cemetery, 1:24 Mundelein College, 1:9 Municipal Pier, 1:37 Museums, and teenagers, 2:11 Music, jazz, 2:27 Musical instruments, Vietnamese, 1:50 “My History Is Your History” (CHS project), 2:7
N National Broadcasting Corp., 1:69 National Geographic (magazine), 3:18 The National March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights, 3:14 Navy Pier Patriotic Service League rally, 1:37 University of Illinois-Chicago, 1:62 NBC Nightly News (television program), 1:69 Neighborhoods, ethnic relations in, 2:46 Netsch, Walter, 3:58 Newsbreak (television program), 1:69 Newsies, 2:15, 16–17, 3:41 Newsweek (magazine), 1:9; 3:18 Nguyen, Hai Minh, 2:5, 33, 34 Nguyen, Tam Van, 1:50–57 Niemann, Sister Joachim (Marcelline), 1:23 Nixon, Richard M., 3:32 “‘No Beer for Babies’: The Child Welfare Exhibit,” article by James Marten, 3:36–51 Noguchi, Isamu, 3:61 Norman, Art, 1:56 Northwestern University Medill School of Journalism, 1:61 Settlement, 1:46
O O’Connor, Eva Ennis, 1:21 O’Connor, James J., 3:65 Ogilvie, Richard, 3:4 Old Town School of Folk Music, 2:8 O’Neill, Sister Mary Helaine (Nora), 1:18 Open-housing marches, 3:28–29 Oral history, 2:4–7 Orr Elementary School, 1:23 Our Lady Help of Christians, 1:18, 19 Our Lady of the Angels school fire, 1:4–25 Our People (television program), 1:65 70 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
P Pair-o-Chutes (amusement ride), 2:49–50 Paper Lion (book), 2:49 Paper salvage program, 2:36 Parent-Teacher Organizations, 1:30 Parents and Friends of Gay Men and Lesbian Women, 3:16 Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays (PFLAG), 3:16 Parker School, 2:45, 47, 48 Patriotic Food Show, 1:38–41 Patriotic Service League, 1:33–34 “The Patron and the Artist: Interviews with Stanley M. Freehling and Richard Hunt,” article by Timothy J. Gilfoyle, 3:52–65 Peer groups, high school, 2:39–40 Percent for the Arts Program, 3:52 Perkins, Lucy Fitch (exhibit poster), 3:45 Personal identity, sources of, 2:5 Photography, 3:18–35 Photojournalism, 3:18–35 Picasso, Pablo, 3:58 Pirie, Margaret, 1:34 Planar Hybrid (sculpture), 3:56 Please Stop Laughing at Me (book), 2:60 Plimpton, George, Paper Lion, 2:49 Plovanich, Matt, 1:21 Police, and homosexuals, 3:4, 9, 12, 13 Poling, John D., “Standing Up for Gay Rights,” 3:4–17 Politics, Republican National Convention, 3:32 Pool hall (c. 1910), 2:27 Portelli, Alessandro, 2:7 Posters Bambino, 3:37 Child Welfare Exhibit, 3:45 Gay Rights, 3:17 World War I, 1:30, 35, 36 Prendergast, Sister Celia, 1:19 Preschool childen. See child welfare Presidential inauguration (1965), 3:25 Pride Parade, 3:12, 15 Progressive Era, 3:39, 40, 50 Protest, 3:32 Public art, 3:52, 57–58. See also Hunt, Richard Public playground, first in Chicago, 3:39
R Racial groups, in schools, 2:47 Ralphie (Puerto Rican gang member), 2:29 Ravinia Festival, 3:62–64 Reagan, Ronald, 1:70 Reeducation camps, Vietnamese, 1:50, 52, 54 Refugee camps, Vietnamese, 1:55 River Park, 2:53 Rivers, Angela, 2:32 Riverview Amusement Park, 2:26, 49, 50, 51–52 Roller coaster, 2:51 Roosevelt, Theodore, 3:39 Rubenstein, Rebecca, 2:10
S Sacred Heart (statue), 1:13 Sahlins, Bernard, 3:61 St. Anne’s Hospital, 1:9, 21 St. Canice, Sister Mary (Mary Ellen), 1:4 St. Ita’s Parish, 1:12 St. Patrick’s School, 2:46 St. Phillip Anise School, 2:44 Saint Phillip’s School, 2:46 Salazar, Adam, 2:5, 33 Salinger, J. D., Catcher in the Rye, 2:6 Saturday Evening Post (magazine), 3:18, 24 Scatena, Marie L., “Teen Chicago,” 2:4–11 Schiffler, Sister Ruth, 1:22–23 School and Home Education (journal), 3:50 School fire safety, 1:9, 22 Schools, ethnic relations in, 2:46 Schroeder, Sister Mary Savina (Cecilia), 1:19, 22 Schupp, Rev. Ronald, 3:17 Sears Merchandising Group, 1:65 Sears, Roebuck and Co., 1:58, 61, 62, 64–67 Sears Tower sale, 1:67 Sears World Trade, 1:65 Selma, Alabama, 3:26–27 Service Flag Committee, 1:46 Settlement Association of Chicago, 1:30 Seventh Ward, and IWC efforts, 1:32 Sexual relations, teenage, 2:27, 50 SG Cowen Securities Corporation, 3:55 Shoreland Hotel, 3:55 Shuttlesworth, Fred, 3:23 Silver Streak (amusement ride), 2:50 Simpson, Carole, 1:58–72 Simpson, Doretha Viola (Wilbon), 1:59 Simpson, Lytle Ray, 1:59 Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 1:4–25 Sixteenth Street Baptist Church bombing (Alabama), 3:22, 23 Sixth Ward, and IWC efforts, 1:30 Slabs of the Sunburnt West (sculpture), 3:57 Smith, Constance, 3:38 Smith, David, 3:55 Smithsonian (magazine), 3:18 Social transformations, and youth, 2:13 Société Mattachine, 3:7 Society for Human Rights, 3:5, 6, 7 Soldiers, books for (1917), 1:32 Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Committee, 1:46 Solomon, Hannah J., 1:49 Sotomayor, Danny, 3:15 South Shore Community Academy commencement, 2:22 South Shore neighborhood, 2:55 St. Procopius (sculpture), 3:56 “Standing Up for Gay Rights,” article by John D. Poling, 3:4–17 State Council of Defense, 1:27 State of Illinois Building, 3:52–53 Steel mills, 2:55–56 Steinecker, David, 3:16 Stonewall Riots (New York), 3:5, 14
Street vending, by children, 3:41 “Stunned with Sorrow,” article by Suellen Hoy, 1:4–25 Sykora, Sister Frances Jerome, 1:14 Szeto, May, 2:33, 34
T Taylor, Val, 3:16 “Teen Chicago,” article by Marie L. Scatena, 2:4–11 Teen Chicago exhibition (CHS), 2:12–31, 35 Teen Chicago Rocks the House (performance), 2:8 Teen Council, 2:5–9 “Bringing Attitude to History: The Teen Council,” 2:32, 33–64 Teenagers African American, 2:22 bedrooms, 2:24–25, 26 “Bringing Attitude to History,” 2:32–35 bullying, 2:60–64 clothing (1940s), 2:44 “Coming of Age in Chicago,” 2:12–31 culture, 2:18, 20 delinquency, 2:14 dress code, 2:50 employment, 2:15–19 “Generation Gap,” 2:14, 22, 24, 26 high school attendance, 2:20–22 and history museums, 2:11 history of, in twentieth century, 2:12–31 interviews by, 2:36–64 myths, 2:22, 24 sexual relations, 2:27, 50 stereotypes, 2:22, 24, 34 Television, women in, 1:58, 69–71 Telling, Ed, 1:65 Terkel, Studs, 2:7–8 Thirty-second Ward, and IWC efforts, 1:45, 46 Thirty-third Ward, and IWC efforts, 1:45 Thomas, Richard, 1:72 Thomas, Valerie Ann, 1:9 Thomas Jefferson Award, received by Tam Van Nguyen, 1:56 Tierney, Sister Lorraine, 1:21 Tuskegee Institute (Alabama), 1:62 Twentieth Ward, and IWC efforts, 1:32 Twenty-first Ward, and IWC efforts, 1:46
U Uccetta, Serge, 1:12 United House of Prayer for All People, 3:21 United States Children’s Bureau, 3:40 University of Chicago Chicago School of Civics and Philanthropy, 3:39 School of Social Service Administration, 3:48 Settlement, 1:46 University of Illinois at Chicago, 1:62 Untitled (sculpture), 3:58 U.S. Office of Education, school fire safety survey, 1:9 Index to Volume 33 | 71
V Valley Mould and Iron Co., 2:56 Vaughn, Erin, 2:5, 12, 33 Venereal diseases, 1:33–34 Victory gardens, 1:29 Vietnam Moratorium, 3:32 Vietnam War, 1:50; 2:56–59; 3:32 Vietnamese lacquer panels, 1:52 Vietnamese musical instruments, 1:50 Vietnamese New Year, 1:57 Vietnamese reeducation camps, 1:50, 52, 54 Vietnamese refugee camps, 1:55 Villareal, Roman (interview), 2:55–59 Vinci, John, 3:61 Visiting Nurse Association, 1:30 Von Stuben High School, 2:50
W Wald, Lillian, 3:44 Wallace, George, 1:62, 3:24, 25 War brides (Korean War), 2:54 War Exposition (1918), 1:32 Ward, Sister Jean Helene, 1:14 Washington, Booker T., 3:44 Washington, Mayor Harold, 3:17 Water Bug (amusement ride), 2:50 Watts Riot, 1:65 WBBM Newsradio, 1:65 WCFL Radio, 1:65 Wendell Phillips High School, 2:22 White City Amusement Park, 2:28 Wigutow, Victoria, 2:5, 33 Wilson, Woodrow, 3:39 The Windy City Times (newspaper), 3:16 WMAQ-TV, 1:65 Woman’s City Club of Chicago, 1:27, 49 Woman’s Commitee of Illinois. (See Illinois Woman’s Committee [IWC]) Women health care concerns, 1:33 in television, 1:58, 69–71 volunteer services (See Illinois Woman’s Committee [IWC]) Wood, Alice, 1:30, 31 Wood, James, 3:61 Wood, Marion, 2:7 World Book Encyclopedia, 1:20 World News Saturday (television program), 1:69 World War I coal shortage, 1:28, 30 draft, 1:34 food conservation efforts, 1:27–29, 35–45 Illinois Woman’s Club, 1:26–49 morality efforts, 1:32 posters, 1:30, 35, 36 servicemen’s hospitality efforts, 1:45–46 women volunteer services (See Illinois Woman’s Committee [IWC]) 72 | Chicago History | Spring 2005
World War II paper salvage program, 2:36 teen memories of, 2:37–38 WTTW Radio, 1:65
Y Yang, Raymond, 2:12, 33 “Bringing Attitude to History: The Teen Council,” 2:32–35 Yarros, Rachelle, 1:33 Yearbooks (high school), 2:14 “Yesterday’s City: ‘No Beer for Babies’: The Child Welfare Exhibit,” article by James Marten, 3:36–51 Young Chicago Authors, 2:8 “Your Legal Rights” (Hart), 3:8