Louis Sullivan on the Prairie, We Visit a Jewel Box Bank

It's been a crazy, whirlwind holiday week. We spent Christmas Day at my uncle's up in Racine Wisconsin. I don't think I've been to his place since we closed on our house last winter, so I found myself poking around his addition as if for the first time, seeing how it was constructed. He had added a family room sometime when I was in high school with a half bath and a separate wood-lined sauna. I've been trying to figure out just how we can add a sauna to The Box House, but there's only so much square footage available. Still, I was intrigued with the fact that there is a shower in the sauna as well, allowing the tiny room to do double duty. I neglected to take photos, so maybe next time.

It was kind of funny seeing my cousins--the earliest Christmases I can remember feature us playing with our new toys under the Christmas tree. This time, we sat around the tree talking about building inspectors, home renovation projects, and DIY improvements!

Boxing Day found us on the road for the nine-hour trek to Kansas City to see Ted's family. We got a really, really late start, so the roads were clear of traffic. We did run into some absolutely crazy weather, however. The temperature steadily climbed from 50 to 70, and somewhere in Missouri the emergency broadcast system kicked in on the radio to warn us of tornadoes and torrential rains ahead. Within 15 minutes--I'm not kidding, it was that fast--the temperature dropped from 70 down to 33. We watched in amazement as the thermometer dropped before our eyes. Just outside of Kansas City, the skies opened and we were pummeled with rain. But we did make it to Overland Park in the suburbs safely. I know it's Kansas, but tornado warnings in December seem a bit extreme.

The trip was pleasant, although much too short. All-too-soon we were headed home. This time we took the Iowa route, stopping in Grinnell, just east of Des Moines, to stretch our legs for an hour or so. We knew that there was a Sullivan-designed bank in the downtown area of this college town, but had never seen it before. We do love Sullivan, and mourn the fact that a number of his buildings have been lost, including the Pilgrim Baptist Church, destroyed in a careless fire. So we were kinda excited to see this bank. (Those who are unfamiliar with architect Louis Sullivan, check out the biography on Wikipedia or peruse the books Louis Sullivan: The Poetry of Architecture or The Early Louis Sullivan Building Photographs, which features this bank on the cover.)

Sullivan designed a number of what have come to be known as Jewel Box Banks. There were eight of them in all, and all are still standing. Based on the photos I've seen, this is my favorite.

By the time we got to Grinnell, it was already four o'clock, so the winter lighting wasn't great for taking pictures. So here's one from the bank's web site:

And a historical view:

Another recent view:


More details of the ornamentation can be found here. Unfortunately, some moron smashed the eastward-facing winged lion a few years ago:

We saw the pieces in the lobby, and, according to the Poweshiek County blog, bank owner Wells Fargo is looking into options for restoring or replicating the terra cotta figure. There was a guy working on the building's exterior while we were, but he didn't seem to know much about the details of the restoration. And I did kinda want to go, "Arrrgh, what are you doing?" when he propped his ladder against the remaining lion. But he was friendly enough, and seemed very proud of the bank, telling us how the ornamentation he was working on was installed before he was born.


Sullivan always gives me shivers!

We spent about an hour prowling around downtown Grinnell, exploring other historic buildings, and then jumped back into the car to head home. Well, we had to stop at Mom's other house first before we got all the way back home. The new tenants are moving in this weekend, and we still need to clear out a few things. So, after being on the road all day, the last thing I wanted to do was pack up the car with more of our junk, but what can you do?

The new people were there this evening to bring some of their stuff in early and begin setting up. It was the first time in 31 years I had to ring the doorbell to get in--well, with the exception of those times I lost or forgot my keys! What a strange feeling to have someone else answer the door, and even stranger that I'm not really free to wander around wherever and however I want!

Oh well. It's not really our home anymore, anyway.

I hope everyone is enjoying the holidays!


Carson Pirie Scott & Co. building designed by Louis Sullivan. State and Madison, Chicago.

Al Capone's House for Sale

Being a Chicago girl, I'm well aware of the impact Al Capone had--and continues to have--on the city. In 1997, I did a round-the-world backpacking trip with a friend from college, and wherever we went--India, Egypt, Thailand, Nepal--people would say one of two things to us: "You're from Chicago! Do you know Michael Jordan? He's the greatest basketball player in the world!" or "Chicago! Al Capone! Eh-eh-eh-eh-eh!" (That last bit was a simulated Tommy Gun.)

Before moving here, we lived a few miles south in Uptown, a northside neighborhood whose heyday was the 1920s. Gangster history there abounds. The Green Mill jazz club, about two blocks from our condo, is probably the most famous. It was owned, in part, by Al Capone's henchman "Machinegun" Jack McGurn. McGurn was a murderous bastard, who cut up comedian/singer Joe E. Lewis pretty badly when he refused to renew his contract with the Green Mill. The story plays out in Frank Sinatra's movie The Joker is Wild.

Anyway, I'm always amazed by the infatuation people have with Al Capone, and how they can romanticize the prohibition-era activities of his and other gangs of the time, yet complain bitterly about the gangs currently plaguing Uptown. They're pretty much the same, in my mind.

That fascination is playing out tonight over and over again on the local news, as Al Capone's House, a two-story red-brick building at 7244 South Prairie Avenue, will soon be on the market. I'll be curious to see how his notoriety will drive up the price, already estimated at $450,000. In a serious housing slump where few things in the city seem to be moving, I bet this one will sell.

Image courtesy Chicago History Museum. Original caption: Exterior view of the home of Al Capone, viewed at an angle from across the street, located at 7244 Prairie Avenue in the Greater Grand Crossing community area of Chicago, Illinois. An automobile is parked along the curb in front of the house. DN-0088054, Chicago Daily News negatives collection, Chicago Historical Society.

Annual Humiliate the Animals Photo

Mom dragged out some old holiday pictures this week, and among them was one of her dog, Harley. "Fuzzy ol' man," I smiled when I saw the photo, marveling at how gray he looked here. It's not how I remember our Harley at all. I remember him as a frisky young pup, a mostly-black-lab-with-a-bit-of-springer-spaniel puppy that my dad found at Pet Rescue in Bloomingdale, near their house. The photo is from 2006, Harley's last Christmas with us. He had reached the respectable age of 12, not bad for a big dog.

Like many families, we keep up certain traditions during the holidays. One is to eat herring at Midnight on New Year's Eve, an old Polish custom said to bring luck for the rest of the year. (New Year's Eve was also my grandmother's birthday, and she taught us the tradition.) Another tradition is the annual "Humiliate the Dog" picture, where we dress up our critters in bows and other holiday finery and make them sit still for a photo.

Here is another photo of Harley when he was seven or eight. You'll notice his martyred expression didn't change much over time. He was never particularly happy with getting dressed in his holiday best, but the rest of us thought it was hilarious.

Harley always got a treat afterward for putting up with us; a big rawhide bone or a delicious pig ear.

We had planned on dressing up Maggie this year, but our groomer beat us to it. She comes to our house in her mobile dog-grooming van. We decided earlier this year to have her come to us, because Maggie--who was abused terribly by her first owner--is very much afraid of cars, and panics if we leave her anywhere. Maggie knows the groomer's van, and tries to drag us back inside when she spots it, but settles down well enough once she's inside.

This time, when the groomer brought Maggie back to the door, she handed us a holiday card as well. And look! The picture on the front is of Maggie! What a nice surprise!

She looks about as un-merry as can be! When she came back into the house smelling like dog shampoo and wearing a tartan scarf, the kittens didn't recognize her, and went scurrying away, hissing and growling. Poor Maggie! The jaunty little scarf didn't last.

And now with the kittens, the tradition is morphing into a more general Humiliate the Animals one. Mom brought home these adorable kitten costumes, and I waited until they were napping to put them on so they wouldn't struggle. No way I wanted to combat those claws.

Seamus.

Bella.

They do not look happy. I don't blame them. There's no dignity in jingle bell collars or Santa hats. Hee hee.

Do you ever dress up your pets in silly costumes? If you have a photo you'd like to share, you can either mail it to me at blog(a)compassrose.com or post a link to it in the comments section. I'll include them all here.

Happy Holidays, y'all!

Box House History

Inspired by Andy at Building a Better Bungalow, I got a free 14-day trial membership to Ancestry.com to see what I could dig up from the 1930 Census regarding The Box House, which was built in 1925, 1926, or 1928, depending on which records you believe.

It was a little more complicated than just plugging in the address. For whatever reason, that wasn't working. I would get an "address unknown" sort of message. I found another source online that indicated what enumeration district our street fell under, and then pulled up that document on Ancestry.com, checking it page by page until I found the address for The Box House.

Well, I found out that both units of our two-flat were occupied by renters during the census. The downstairs unit, the one we're currently occupying, had a George and Ethel May Tetlow who lived here with their children, George Jr. and Betty Lou, and George's mother, Nellie. Nellie was born in England, and Ethel May's family came from Canada. George was, unsurprisingly, the breadwinner of the family, working as a salesman for an oil distributor. Checking back to the 1920 and 1910 censuses, I found out he had worked as an auto mechanic and a chauffeur. It seemed he always lived within a few blocks of The Box House.

The upstairs unit, which we are currently renting out, also had tenants back in 1930. George Melberger, originally from New Jersey, worked as a department manager for an insurance company. He lived at The Box House with his wife Claudia and his daughter, also named Claudia, age 15.

Both units were paying a rent of $75 a month, which is $968.26 in today's currency. It was the cheapest rent reported on the block. The other rental properties on our street were renting at $88-$110 a month. Most of the houses were owner-occupied, most of the people in them American-born, and most had foreign-born parents. The block seemed primarily English descent, with a smattering of folks of Belgium and German heritage. Each household had at least one radio, and everyone could read and write.

I couldn't glean who owned The Box House from the census info, but it seems obvious it was built as an investment property, as both units were rented out shortly after it was built. I recall one of my neighbors saying The Box House and the next two properties were all built at the same time, so it's possible that one of the owners of those houses owned this one, too. But that's pure speculation. I'll have to dig deeper and haul myself down to the library and/or historical society for the next phase of research.