The RHS Facebook page is a rich archive of history-related posts by Carol Flynn, RHS Facebook admin and writer until mid-2025. Carol prolifically wrote a wide variety of meticulously researched local history articles for RHS. She continues to write for the Beverly Review and other media sources with articles particularly focused on local Ridge history.
March 2021



March 2021 – Oscar Wilde’s Visit to Chicago – Part 5 – Conclusion
Oscar Wilde left Chicago on February 15, 1882, to take his lectures on aestheticism to other Midwestern cities, including Detroit, Cleveland, Indianapolis, St. Louis, Milwaukee, and Dubuque. In Illinois, he made stops in Springfield, Rockford, Aurora, Joliet, Peoria, and several other small cities before he returned to Chicago on March 11.
He stayed again at the Grand Pacific, and that evening, gave another lecture at the Central Music Hall. The weather was bad, so this time the house was about two-thirds full. The Chicago Tribune described the audience as “cultured.”
Wilde wore a black velvet suit with knee britches, black silk stockings, a white lace tie, and white kid gloves. His topic was “Interior and Exterior House Decoration.” This was a new lecture he put together to premiere in Chicago, the first city he visited twice, necessitating a second lecture. This lecture would be later called “The House Beautiful.”
In this lecture, Wilde shared his views for proper architectural details. He said yes to terra cotta embellishments; he said no to iron railings. He liked red brick and brass door knockers.
He also discussed home furnishings and decorating. He said keynotes and gradations of colors should appear in rooms like the answering calls in a symphony of music. He said yes to area rugs and no to heavy furniture. He liked plenty of flowers and candlelight. He said china should be used, not kept hidden away in a closet. He said the only thing worse than no art was bad art.
Although this time he did not create the same kind of controversy as he had with his comments about the Water Tower, he was critical of Americans and their home decorations. His opinion was that much of it was “second class.” He was not advocating that people buy expensive items, but rather ones that were handmade, well-made, and pleasing to look at.
Following the presentation, there were two curious newspaper articles concerning a woman named Arabella Root De L’Armitage. She was a highly regarded vocalist with her own concert company.
The first article appeared in the Inter Ocean newspaper on March 13. It was a letter critical of Wilde’s talk on decoration, followed by a sarcastic poem, all attributed to Mrs. De L’Armitage. She said Wilde’s talk was full of “little nothings, idle visions, and absurd doctrines.” Her poem included lines like, “He entreats to love the beautiful, and in this he may be dutiful, a good son Oscar.”
Yet, the second article, in the Inter Ocean on March 18, reported that during this second stay, Wilde visited the Lyon and Healy piano rooms to hear her perform a new aesthetic piece, “Sunflower Song.” She wished to dedicate the song to Wilde if it pleased him.
Wilde displayed his considerable charm in the letter he wrote to her in response: “Your song, whose dedication is so courteously offered, I accept with rare pleasure, for what could come from a nightingale but what is beautiful.”
The true nature of Mrs. De L’Armitage’s feelings for Wilde are hard to interpret with these conflicting articles. Perhaps the song was a parody of aestheticism.
Scheduled to leave Chicago for his next commitment, Wilde sent a “pleasant letter of regret” to the Irish American Club in response to its invitation to attend a St. Patrick’s Day banquet. He spent that day in St. Paul, Minnesota, where he gave an impromptu speech on Irish patriotism, the only time he is known to have spoken on this topic, although it was a topic very dear to his mother, Lady Jane Wilde.
On March 19, the Chicago Tribune ran a surprising article. After being critical of Wilde for months, it stated: “It is humiliating to confess, but nevertheless true, that when a stranger visits Chicago his host has nothing to show him but that ‘castellated monstrosity’ – the water-tower, a number of high buildings, a labyrinth of dirty streets, hog-killing by machinery at the Stock-Yards…. Oscar Wilde was a personified caricature of the vagaries of art, but his criticisms of Chicago’s deficiencies in the artistic and beautiful were fair and timely…. Chicago should have an opera-house, an art-gallery, a museum, a great library, and schools of music, painting, architecture, and polytechnics ….”
Of course, Chicago would get all of these things with time – and they are among the best cultural institutions in the world.
Wilde spent the next eight months touring Canada and the western and southern sections of the U.S., then returning to New York. Of all places, he was a big hit with the rugged miners in western camps. In one escipade, he was challenged to a drinking contest by several of them. He left them passed out on the floor while he exited on his own two feet.
Returning to England, Wilde wrote his famous works. He married Constance Lloyd and they had two sons. But his career came to an end when he served two years in prison for homosexual acts. After that, he went into exile in France, where he died in November 1900 of meningitis at the age of 46. His gravesite with its modernistic sculpture had to be enclosed in glass to protect it from a constant stream of visitors.
In 2017, he was among approximately 50,000 men pardoned for homosexual “crimes” that no longer exist in British law.
The aesthetic movement tapered off with Wilde’s death in 1900. It did leave the world some “beautiful” art, literature, and decorative items. Many of the influences and leaders of this movement continued into the Arts and Crafts and the City Beautiful Movements of the early 20th century.
Preservation movements to save historical and cultural structures were also influenced by aesthetic principles. The irony that he inadvertently helped Chicago’s “castellated monstrosity” survive to today would have been appreciated by Oscar Wilde.
In conclusion, Oscar Wilde said about himself: “Yes, I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”





March 2021 – Oscar Wilde’s Visit to Chicago – Part 4
At the age of 27, Oscar Wilde was a trend-setter in the aesthetic movement, which emphasized the appreciation of beauty in life in general, and the arts in particular. He was outspoken about his ideas for art and architecture, which led to a lecture tour of the United States in 1882.
There were many critics of aestheticism because it went against the moral values of Victorian times. The term “decadent” became associated with the aesthetic lifestyle.
Wilde started on the east coast with a prepared lecture on the “English Renaissance” which covered the art movement in England. However, his audience in the U.S. found this too lengthy and theoretical, so he revised it into a lecture on “The Decorative Arts,” which he premiered in Chicago on February 13, 1882.
He appeared to a standing-room-only crowd at the Central Music Hall, a commercial building and theater designed by the architect Dankmar Adler (of Adler and Sullivan fame) which was located at State and Randolph. The theater, which sat 2000, was known for its excellent acoustics design, which Adler would further refine for the Auditorium Theater. The Central Music Hall was torn down in 1900 to make way for the Marshall Field building.
The newspapers, forever wanting to be critical of Wilde, dismissed the large attendance. Wrote the Chicago Tribune, “Actuated probably more by motives of curiosity than any expectation of learning very much that was new, a large crowd of fashionable people gathered at Central Music Hall last evening to greet the much-advertised Oscar Wilde.” However, the newspaper still had to admit that for the 2000+ in attendance, “there was not the slightest suggestion of rowdyism or ridicule.”
The newspapers carried the entire text of Wilde’s lecture the next day. He started by praising the handicraftsmen who brought art to decorative items, and he was intolerant of machine-made items. His themes included developing “local schools of art” that would encourage and support young and emerging artists and craftsmen, and would foster an appreciation of art in all of the population, rich and poor alike. He was not opposed to commercialism in art, as “commercial men” had built the most artistic cities of the world. He believed that the nation which absorbed the artistic spirit into its heart would create such treasures as had never been seen before.
Wilde usually brought in local references based on his tours and observations of the host city. He did that in Chicago.
His first local reference, met by loud applause, was to the relief efforts from other cities after the Great Chicago Fire: “The swift legion of fiery-footed engines that bore to the ruins of your burning city the love, health and generous treasures of the world – that was as noble and as beautiful as any golden troop of angels that had ever fed the hungry or clothed the naked in the antique time.”
The second local reference made a more lasting impression on Chicagoans. To this day, Oscar Wilde has not been forgiven or forgotten for these comments.
Wilde praised the mechanics of the Chicago Avenue Pumping Station, then he said, “but when I came out and saw your water tower, that castellated monstrosity, with pepper-boxes stuck all over it, I felt amazed and grieved that you should so misuse gothic art, and that when you built a water tower you should try to make it as unlike a water tower as possible, and make it look like a medieval fortress.”
He was, of course, speaking about the structure that has become one of Chicago’s most famous and most loved landmarks, the Chicago Water Tower at 806 N. Michigan Avenue. Built in 1869, today it is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
The audience laughed and applauded his comments at the time, but the next day, a Chicago Tribune reporter took to task the “prophet of the beautiful” for his remarks that “wounded the pride of Chicago’s best citizens.”
“I can’t help that,” replied Wilde. “It’s really too absurd. If you build a water tower, why don’t you build it for water and make a simple structure of it, instead of building it like a castle, where one expects to see mailed knights peering out of every part?”
The conversation wrapped up when a horrified Wilde declined a visit to the Chicago stockyards to view the slaughter of pigs, one of Chicago’s popular tourist attractions of the day. As scheduled, he left the next afternoon to tour other cities.
In later notes that he wrote on his “Impressions of America,” he went into more detail about the pumping works. He said, “There is no country in the world where machinery is so lovely as in America. I have always wished to believe that the line of strength and the line of beauty are one. It was not until I had seen the waterworks at Chicago that I realized the wonders of machinery; the rise and fall of the steel rods, the symmetrical motion of the great wheels is the most beautifully rhythmic thing I have ever seen.”
Wilde spoke in other Midwest cities before returning to Chicago on March 11 for a few more days.
Next post: Wilde’s second visit to Chicago.

Ridge Historical Society
By Carol Flynn
One of the proposed museums affected by the now-withdrawn zoning proposal is the Emmett Till House.
Emmett Till's cousin, Spencer Wright, gave a presentation at RHS in 2015. This was a newsletter article written at the time. Wright passed away in 2017.
Emmett Till's story needs constant retelling.





March 2021 – Oscar Wilde’s Visit to Chicago – Part 3
Oscar Wilde visited the United States in 1882 to lecture on aestheticism. He was 27 years old. He had not yet published any of the plays or fiction for which he would become famous as a writer. He was, however, already famous for this wit, sarcasm, opinions, and conversation skills. He was famous for his flamboyant dress, “decadent” lifestyle, and love of “beauty” as the guiding principle of life.
He had agreed to the trip to the U.S. which was arranged as a promotion for the new Gilbert and Sullivan play, “Patience,” a parody of aestheticism. However, the play was soon eclipsed by Wilde himself. The trip was scheduled for four months, but was extended to almost a year because it was so commercially successful.
Wilde arrived in New York City on January 3, 1882. Within days, he posed in full aesthetic look for photographs taken by Napoleon Sarony, the leading portrait photographer of the day. These photographs define Oscar Wilde to this day.
After working his way through New York, Boston, Washington, D.C., and Philadelphia, and smaller cities like New Haven, Albany, and Buffalo, he arrived in Chicago on February 12.
The American press loved to hate Wilde. They reported his every move, outfit, and comment, while at the same time declaring him irrelevant. The newspapers in Chicago were no different. The articles in the Chicago papers offered detailed scenes of Wilde’s visit, almost like the plays he would later author.
Chicagoans had their first glimpse of Wilde when a reporter from the Inter Ocean newspaper interviewed him at the Grand Pacific, the luxury hotel he was staying at, now long gone.
Wilde’s room was decorated with rare old books and an antique desk with inlaid pearl done in Japanese style, a popular aesthetic trend. The “skins of wild beasts,” identified in another newspaper as buffalo, and a gold silk fringed shawl were draped on the sofa, which had been pulled up to an angle with the bright coal fire blazing in the grate.
Wilde reclined on the sofa, smoking Turkish cigarettes. He wore a quilted black silk smoking jacket with scarlet collar and lapels, with matching black “pantaloons” with scarlet piping down the side. The outfit was completed with matching scarlet necktie, handkerchief, and stockings.
He greeted the reporter with “languid grace.” The first question put to him was what he thought of Chicago.
“That is a difficult question to answer,” replied Wilde. “I don’t pretend to have seen the city yet, I have been here too short a time; but from what I have seen I like it much better than New York. It is wonderful to think how you have built such a large city in so short a time, especially after such a great calamity as your great fire. But of course it is a little sad to think of all the millions of money spent on buildings and so little architecture. But that will come in time, no doubt.”
When asked if he had seen any art yet in Chicago, Wilde replied he had seen the work of a sculptor named John Donoghue. He praised the work as “of the highest artistic quality, more beautiful than the work of any sculptor I have seen yet.” He said Chicago should be proud of this young artist.
Wilde showed the reporter a plaque with a medallion of a young girl that Donoghue created to illustrate one of Wilde’s poems from the book “Poems” he had published in London the year before. He gave gifts of the book out frequently.
[A few weeks later, the newspaper reported that Wilde offered to advance Donoghue the funds to have one of the artist’s works cast in bronze and exhibited in London. He also ordered more of the medallions to give as gifts.]
He was asked how he liked the American people, and he responded the people on the East coast were very cosmopolitan; he expected to find “real American life” in the West. He said he found the audiences in the large cities to be “intelligent, courteous, and sympathetic.” There had been a few instances of disturbances in smaller, “provincial towns,” but “the good sense and good feeling of the majority entirely stopped” the disturbances.
Wilde was asked about the results of the tour financially, at which he showed “surprise” at the “outrageous question.” He was even asked outright how much he was making per night, but he did answer the questions. He was making $1000 per night in the big cities, less in the smaller cities.
He said that he was surprised by many comments of the newspapers. “They think it a strange and awful thing that I should want to make a few dollars by lecturing. Why, money making is necessary for art. Money builds cities and makes them beautiful. Money buys art and furnishes it an incentive. Is it strange that I should want to make money?”
That concluded his first published interview in Chicago.
During this first visit, Wilde was the guest of honor at luncheons, dinners, and receptions where he interacted with prominent Chicagoans like Marshall Field. He “talked very pleasantly on the subjects of dress, dancing, etc.” He was pronounced “perfectly charming” by the ladies.
When asked how he liked Chicago’s top social circles, Wilde replied, “I like your society people very much. They have all apologized to me for their newspapers. Your newspapers are comic without being amusing. English papers are founded on facts, while American papers are founded on imagination.”
Wilde might have charmed Chicago’s social circles, but he had less success with its cab drivers.
Wilde was the guest of honor at a society reception on Michigan Avenue, and a cab had been hired to then transport him to the Prairie Avenue district to be the guest at another house, that of architect John Wellborn Root, the partner of Daniel Burnham. Root was the creative genius of the team, and his designs using steel support beams would later pave the way for modern skyscrapers.
It was a dark and chilly night, and the driver, Frank Trudell, the foreman of Beardsley’s livery stables, could not find the address. The cab bounced around the muddy, unpaved streets, much to Wilde’s annoyance.
“I say, you ought to know where this is,” said Wilde, sticking his head out the cab’s window.
“Yes, I ought to know a good many things,” retorted Trudell.
Finally, Trudell pulled to the curb and told Wilde he had to get out of the cab and hold the horses while he, the driver, looked for the house. Wilde balked at the suggestion. What did the driver take him for? He was no hostler.
Trudell said he was not going to drive up and down the street all night. Either Wilde held the horses, or they headed back to downtown.
“Oh come, I say now, you wouldn’t do that,” said Wilde.
“Oh yes I will,” replied the cab driver.
Wilde “stepped out into the bleak night in knee breeches and dress coat” and fine shoes with silver buckles, and held the horses.
The house was located, and Wilde, still irritated, told Trudell to wait to take him back to his hotel. After waiting an hour and a half in the cold with restless horses, Trudell knocked on the door and sent a message to Wilde. If he wanted a ride back downtown, he had to leave then because Trudell would wait no longer.
Wilde came out and they left.
Next post: Oscar Wilde’s Memorable Lecture in Chicago.





March 2021 – Oscar Wilde’s Visit to Chicago – Part 2
Oscar Wilde is one of Ireland’s most regarded writers. Before his literary career took off, however, he was already a celebrity and media star.
During his years at Oxford University (1874-78), he became a follower of the aesthetic movement, which promoted pleasing the senses and emotions through “beauty.” Primarily an art movement, aestheticism advocated “art for art’s sake,” that is, the arts – fine art, decorative art, literature, music – should exist and be enjoyed and appreciated for the pure beauty of the works, not for other purposes like political statements or moral lessons.
After graduating from Oxford, Wilde first returned to Dublin, where he reconnected with a childhood sweetheart, Florence Balcombe. She married another Irish writer, Bram Stoker, who twenty years later would publish a masterpiece that gave the world one of its most famous characters – Dracula.
Wilde wrote that his time with Balcombe was “the sweetest years of all my youth.” He announced he was returning to England probably for good, and he only returned to Ireland for two brief visits after that.
Moving to London, he set himself up in a bachelor flat and “entered society.” He soon became known for his charming wit, biting sarcasm, and brilliant conversational skills. He was mentioned and quoted frequently in the newspapers and society journals.
He had published poetry and lyrics during his college years, and now produced a book of poems, “Poems,” which sold out, although it was panned by the critics.
He continued his aesthetic lifestyle, and tailors began producing “high-art clothing” for men based on Wilde’s outfits – britches that ended at the knees tied with bows; silk, satin, and velvet jackets and pants; colorful neckties, handkerchiefs, and stockings; fur coats; outsized hats; and fancy shoes.
Soon Wilde was setting, not following, aesthetic trends. The newspapers called him the “apostle of the aesthetic school.” He began lecturing and writing on aestheticism with topics such as philosophy, fine and decorative arts, architecture, and fashion.
Wilde was not the only aesthete in London society – there were many, including the artist Edward Burne-Jones, whose artwork included stained glass, oil painting, ceramic tiles, jewelry, tapestries, and mosaics. Burne-Jones had worked with William Morris to create the tearoom at the Victoria and Albert Museum in the 1860s which remains famous today as a design from the early days of the aesthetic movement.
Said Burne-Jones about his art, which captures the essence of the aesthetic movement: “I mean by a picture a beautiful, romantic dream of something that never was, never will be – in a light better than any light that ever shone – in a land no one can define or remember, only desire – and the forms divinely beautiful.”
Wilde was the most flamboyant and outspoken of the aesthetes, however. As one newspaper said in 1881, “Two years and a half ago he came to London, and on being told to not say anything unconventional he did exactly the opposite; the consequence was that he became the fashion.”
Wilde, as well as all aesthetes, were controversial figures, with as many critics as fans. Their beliefs and behaviors contradicted the traditional moral values of the Victorian era. The term “decadent” became associated with the aesthetic lifestyle.
George Du Maurier, a cartoonist and writer for Punch and Harper’s, leading magazines that helped bring the aesthetic movement to the U.S., often caricatured Wilde.
Artist William Powell Frith produced a painting titled “The Private View at the Royal Academy, 1881,” depicting Wilde with his followers viewing artwork, while his critics stand behind him, observing him. Aesthetic women’s fashions, with their bright colors and softer, flowing lines, contrast with traditional attire, which used somber colors and features like bustles.
Dramatist W. S. Gilbert and composer Arthur Sullivan, the creators of comic operas such as the “Pirates of Penzance,” parodied the aesthetic movement in a new play, “Patience.” They modeled one of the characters on Wilde.
To promote the play in the U.S., their theatrical producer Richard D'Oyly Carte talked Wilde into a trip to America to lecture about aestheticism.
It was in this context, the role of ambassador for aestheticism, that Oscar Wilde visited the United States in 1882 on a lecture tour. Soon, the Gilbert and Sullivan play stopped being the focal point, and Wilde’s visit in and of itself became the noteworthy historical phenomenon. The trip was originally planned for four months but was extended to almost a year because it was so commercially successful.
The tour included two visits to Chicago, which made a memorable impact on the city.
Next post: Oscar Wilde’s visit to Chicago.




March 2021 – Oscar Wilde’s visit to Chicago – part 1
St. Patrick’s Day is over but it’s still National Irish American Heritage Month, so we can fit in one more Irish story.
Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde was born in Dublin, Ireland, in 1854. He is considered one of the greatest Irish writers. He wrote poetry, essays, and articles. His plays, such as The Importance of Being Earnest, considered his masterpiece, continue to be performed today. He also wrote fiction, mainly short stories, and his novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, is a classic.
Many people know him for his epigrams, or brief statements that are memorable and interesting. There are hundreds of great Wilde quotes, and some good ones include:
“Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.”
“The truth is rarely pure and never simple.”
“Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.”
“The nicest feeling in the world is to do a good deed anonymously – and have somebody find out.”
“They've promised that dreams can come true – but forgot to mention that nightmares are dreams, too.”
“No man is rich enough to buy back his past.”
“I can resist anything except temptation.”
“A man who does not think for himself does not think at all.”
This could go on for pages.
Before Wilde became famous for his literary career, however, he was already a celebrity and media sensation. As a young man, only in his 20s, he became the embodiment of, and spokesperson for, the Aesthetic Movement.
Aestheticism as a philosophy emphasized pleasing the senses and emotions through beauty and good taste as more important than moral, political, or societal concerns. It was primarily an art movement although it influenced other phases of life. It grew out of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood of the mid-1800s through people like artist/poet Dante Gabriel Rosetti, and influenced such artists and designers as William Morris and Edward Burne-Jones. Aestheticism advocated “art for art’s sake” rather than art for any other purpose such as a moral lesson or political statement.
Oscar Wilde was raised by parents who were considered intellectuals. His father was Ireland’s top eye-and-ear surgeon, running his own hospital. He was knighted in 1864. Sir William Wilde also wrote on Irish archeology and folklore. He was known for his philanthropy, treating the poor for free at the back of Trinity College in Dublin.
Wilde’s mother was an Irish nationalist, strongly supporting freedom from English rule. Lady Jane Wilde was an early advocate for women’s rights and education for women. She spoke ten languages fluently. She was a poet, she wrote for fashionable magazines, and she collected and wrote about Irish folklore.
Oscar had an older brother, and a younger sister who died at age 9 from meningitis. Oscar and his brother were baptized in both the Church of Ireland (Protestant) and the Roman Catholic Church, according to his biographers. He had a lifelong fascination with Catholicism, and even traveled to Italy as a young man to meet the Pope, but he did not really practice in either church.
When Oscar was young, the Wilde home was a site for cultural and social life in Dublin, and he met many of the leading writers, artists, politicians, scientists, and “influencers” of the day. He learned to speak German and French fluently. He excelled as a student at Trinity College and Oxford University in England.
When Sir Wilde died in 1876, it was discovered he was practically bankrupt. Lady Wilde lived with her older son Willie and relied upon her writing to make a living. Willie studied law but never practiced. He earned a meager income as a journalist, drama critic, lead newspaper writer, and editor. Willie was considered witty and humorous, but he was plagued by alcoholism and living in his younger brother’s shadow. The brothers lived together during college years, but were estranged for most of their adult lives.
While a student at Oxford University from 1874 to 1878, Oscar Wilde became an advocate of the Aesthetic Movement, influenced by writers/mentors Walter Pater and John Ruskin. Wilde adopted aesthetic mannerisms. He grew his hair long, wore showy outfits, and affected languid dramatic poses. He scorned sports but he occasionally boxed, a sport the Irish love, and famously drove off four fellow students who attacked him.
He decorated his room with symbols of the movement like peacock feathers, lilies, sunflowers, and art objects. Wilde entertained guests extravagantly, serving them on popular blue china. He famously said, "I find it harder and harder every day to live up to my blue china." This became a slogan for his fellow aesthetes.
Next post: Oscar Wilde moved to London and entered society, which led to a trip to the U.S., including Chicago.

Ridge Historical Society
March 19, 2021
Chicago Municipal Code Zoning Issue
Here are the actual images of the Chicago Municipal Code concerning proposed changes for cultural institutions and "house museums."
Right now, cultural organizations get a "P" for setting up in any residential district – and P means "permitted by right." They don't need any special permission.
In Alderman King's original proposal, dated 12/16/20, she proposed that all cultural institutions get a "-" or dash, which means "Not Allowed" in all residential areas except for the densest highrise areas, and then they would need an "S" – special use approval required.
Note that the Ridge Historical Society is in an "RS" district, so this proposed change would make RHS "not allowed" whether we have special use approval or not. RHS might be "grandfathered in" as an existing institution but that could be challenged and there is no guarantee for protection in the future.
This is the ONLY proposal right now that anyone has seen on this issue so it is the one people are replying to. King claims she submitted an amended proposal but not even the Zoning Committee had seen that as of their video meeting in February.
We have NO idea of the actual proposal the Zoning Committee is looking at during their next meeting, March 23, 2021. It has not been shared with the public.
The Ridge Historical Society
March 18, 2021
Chicago Alderman Sophia King is proposing a change to the Municipal Code of Chicago that would prohibit “cultural exhibits and libraries” – including small local historical societies/museums like the Ridge Historical Society – from being established in residential areas. The proposal was never shared with communities or organizations that may be affected by it before it was submitted to the Zoning Committee for vote. The Committee will deal with the proposed changes on March 23, 2021.
Cultural institutions and “house museums” have existed peacefully in residential areas for decades. They enhance communities by preserving the history, arts, literature, and stories that so richly contribute to the unique characteristics of Chicago’s diverse neighborhoods. Especially now, as groups long unrecognized and unappreciated for their contributions to society are just coming into their own, it is misguided to curtail these efforts.
RHS is located in the historic Graver-Driscoll House in the Ridge Historic District and the Longwood Drive Landmark District. Our understanding is that RHS would be grandfathered in as an existing organization but that does not guarantee future protection.
The RHS Board has written to the Zoning Committee to add our opposition to the proposed changes to that of many other organizations and private citizens who are taking a stand. We have shared our concerns with our own alderman, who is not a member of that committee. We hope this proposed change will die in committee and not go to the City Council for vote.
Comments for the March 23 meeting must be submitted by 9:00 a.m. on Friday morning, March 19. Comments should be sent to staff member Raymond.valadez@cityofchicago.org. The issue is “OPPOSITION TO ALDERMAN KING’S ZONING ORDINANCE LIMITING CULTURAL EXHIBITS, LIBRARIES AND HOUSE MUSEUMS IN RESIDENTIAL AREAS.”
Depending on the outcome of the March 23 meeting, further action may be needed.




The Month of March – Part 6, Conclusion with Frank and Kate Egan
This post will bring to a conclusion our stories about the Frank and Kate Egan family, an Irish American Catholic family that lived on the Ridge one hundred years ago. Their frequent mention in the local newspapers gave us a glimpse into their lives that we don’t often find.
Through Ancestry, we connected with a great-granddaughter who shared some wonderful family pictures and history with us. Another distant relative supplied information via comments on one of the posts. We love connecting with family members of the historical people we profile, and we thank them for their contributions.
We’ll start out with one addendum to Part 5 on the Egan daughters. We found a newspaper picture of Marie Egan DuMais from 1931 that we are including here. She was installed as the chief ranger of the St. Margaret’s chapter of the Women’s Catholic Order of the Foresters. Her sister Florence was named treasurer.
March is National Women’s History Month, National Irish American Heritage Month, National Nutrition Month, and National Craft Month, and the Egans brought all four themes together for us.
The cement block house that the Egan family built at 1414 West 95th Street has to be the ultimate craft project. Mother Kate Egan was much of the creative force behind the project. The house became the center for family activities. There were many newspaper mentions of them entertaining there. Kate came from a large family and out-of-town relatives – from Denver, Austin, Seattle, Los Angeles, New Mexico – stayed at Kate’s house.
At one time, assuming during the Great Depression and World War II years in the 1930s – 40s, when families looked for new ways to bring in income, the Egan family ran the house as a “tourist lodge,” and advertised permanent rooms for men. This was the time that “motels” were beginning – “MO-tor” and “ho-TEL” combined – indoor rooms to stay in conveniently located along major autoroutes, replacing earlier motor camps.
It was mentioned in the papers several times that Kate suffered from severe flare-ups of “rheumatism,” which back then encompassed osteoarthritis, rheumatoid arthritis, gout, and any other illnesses that affected the joints. Rheumatology was just coming into its own as a medical specialty.
Kate stayed active with her grandchildren. One article had her going to two First Communions, the Lane Tech High School prom at the Medinah Temple, and graduation for the grandson who had the prom, all in a space of two weeks. Her grandchildren, and nieces and nephews, were frequent guests at the big house.
In 1927, Frank and Kate Egan and Phillip DuMais donated the statue of St. Margaret of Scotland for the new church the parish was constructing. The statue was in memory of Bernard Egan, the son who died of influenza in the army during WWI, and George DuMais, the husband of Marie Egan, killed in an accident at the Blue Island train yard. The statue can be seen in a niche high above the outside front doors of the church, right below the roofline.
Frank and Kate celebrated their golden wedding anniversary in 1933 with a Mass at St. Margaret of Scotland Church, a breakfast, and an open house for friends during the day. One article brought up some reminiscences by the couple.
During the Great Chicago Fire, when he would have been just 14 years old, Frank hitched up his father’s express team to help people rescue their household goods. Apparently, the frightened horses ran away and there was an accident; the chaos and danger in the streets at the time can only be imagined.
Their 50th anniversary coincided with the beginning of the Century of Progress, and Frank recollected he managed an exhibit in the Machinery Hall during the 1893 World’s Fair. It could have related to sewing machines, as his expertise was in that area.
Frank died on December 1, 1939, at the age of 82, and was waked at their home, then buried from St. Margaret of Scotland in Mt. Olivet Cemetery.
In 1941, daughter Marie held a surprise 77th birthday party for her mother Kate.
Kate died on January 22, 1947, at the age of 82. Her last story involves her funeral procession from St. Margaret of Scotland Church and burial in Mount Olivet Cemetery.
Kate was buried the same day in the same cemetery as was Al Capone, the infamous bootlegger from the days of Prohibition. Capone, aged 48, died in his home in Florida, and his remains were brought up to Chicago for burial. At that time, Capone’s father and one brother were already buried in Mount Olivet Cemetery.
It was a freezing cold, windy day, February 5, 1947, when the funeral cortege for Capone arrived at the cemetery at the same time as that of Kate Egan and her family. Fifteen limousines conveyed Capone’s mother, wife and son, brothers, and other family members and friends. A few “gawkers” and media people braved the cold to watch. There were about forty people in attendance, very small by standards set during the 1920s for gangsters. The service was said by Monsignor William Gorman, the chaplain of the Chicago Fire Department, who had been Capone’s mother’s parish priest at one time. The ceremony was brief, and the family did not linger.
According to Egan family folklore, the family was scandalized that famous people turned out for Capone’s funeral and it was conducted by Monsignor Gorman, while a good Catholic mother like Kate got only a small cortege and a local priest.
Of course, a good Catholic mother like Kate was the expected norm, and Kate couldn’t possibly have competed for public attention with a notorious bootlegger and alleged murderer who dominated Chicago and the newspapers for over a decade.
One paper reported that Msgr. Gorman did say at Capone’s gravesite that the ceremony was “to recognize his penitence and the fact he died fortified by the sacraments of the church. The church never condones evil, nor the evil in any man’s life.”
The Capone graves were later relocated to Mount Carmel Cemetery, but the Capone gravestone still stands in Mount Olivet Cemetery.
However, this was not a story about Al Capone. This was a story about a typical Irish American Catholic family who lived on the Ridge one hundred years ago and contributed to the rich history of the community.
This concludes the series on the George F. Egan family.



The Month of March – Part 5, the Egan Daughters
We’ve been looking at the George Francis (Frank) and Kate Egan family, an Irish American family that lived on the Ridge one hundred years ago. We shared some information on the sons, George, Jr., and Bernard, in the last post. This post will look at the daughters, Florence, born in 1892, and Marie, born in 1898.
Like most Irish American Catholic families at the time, activities centered around family, the Church, and Irish organizations. We see this with the Egan daughters. The family belonged to St. Margaret of Scotland Parish at 99th and South Throop Street. Florence and Marie were both involved in multiple activities and organizations, often following in their parents’ footsteps.
In 1919, the local paper reported Florence and Marie spent the Fourth of July in Indiana and both came home with “a nice sunburned complexion.” They were members of the One-Two-Three Club, and they entertained the club at their house; the Egan house was a stop for the club’s progressive hiking party, where refreshments were served at the stops.
After their brother Bernard died in 1918 from influenza while he was in the army, the family became involved with the Gold Star Mothers. Florence and Marie were mentioned in the local paper for assisting at the candy booth for the Gold Star Mothers’ bazaar held at the Coliseum.
Florence served as an officer with the St. Margaret’s chapter of the Women’s Catholic Order of the Foresters, which formed following the men’s organization, to offer sick, funeral and death benefits. She was also a member of the Daughters of Isabella, the women’s auxiliary of the Knights of Columbus.
Like her parents and many Irish American Catholics, Florence was very active in efforts to secure Ireland’s freedom. She became the recording secretary for the Joseph Murphy Council of the American Association for the Recognition of the Irish Republic.
In 1921, she and the president posted an open invitation in the newspaper for people to attend a meeting of the group. She attended an outing with the group at Riverview Park that fall. Most impressive, she led the grand march at the Council’s benefit dance that summer.
That year, she and a friend hosted a Halloween party at the family home at 1414 W. 95th Street, which also served as the housewarming party for the house, which the family had famously built themselves from cement blocks. Reported the local paper: “Spooks, witches and brownies … all enjoyed themselves in the pretty new home … at the genuine old-fashioned Halloween party.”
Florence enjoyed travelling. She liked day trips to visit family and friends in outlying areas, and she also visited local resorts and places like Starved Rock.
In the fall of 1922, she visited Buffalo, New York, and she decided to move to New York and make it her home. The paper gave her location as Herkimer, a town south of Utica. But she was back home on the Ridge by spring 1923.
In 1924, she married Benjamin McGovern from Buffalo, New York. The newspapers noted she was treated to many showers and parties. She had one son. The marriage ended in divorce and Florence and her son moved into the large family house with her parents.
Florence continued her social activities. In the 1930s she was active with the Catholic Daughters of America, and the women’s auxiliary of the American Legion, where she served as president of a local unit and attended conventions in Springfield.
She had a summer home in McHenry where she entertained guests. Florence eventually moved to Arizona.
Marie, the younger sister, married George DuMais in 1920. Friends from all the clubs, and relatives, feted Marie with showers and parties.
DuMais worked for the Rock Island railroad. They moved to Portland, Oregon, for a brief time. Kate, Marie’s mother, spent a winter out there with her daughter. They moved back to the Ridge, and they bought a summer home in Wisconsin, along with a cousin from Kate’s side, the Murnans.
In October of 1924, George DuMais was crushed between two train cars in the Blue Island switching yards and died in the hospital a few hours later. His funeral was from St. Margaret of Scotland Church and he was buried in Mount Olivet Cemetery. This left a devastated Marie a widow at the age of 27 with three small children; the third was born about a month after George died.
A descendent of the DuMais family responded to the RHS Facebook posts about the Egan family and reported this about Marie: “Marie Egan (later Marie Egan DuMais) was my great aunt.
“As I recall family history retelling the story, George DuMais worked for the Rock Island, and he was killed in a workplace accident. Marie was offered a cash settlement, or a promise of a lifetime job. Her son was only 5 or 6 at the time and she was pregnant with [another child]. She took the job.
“She worked as the ticket agent at multiple stations between 91st and 119th streets on the suburban line, ultimately ending up at 95th and Wood. The station included an apartment where she lived for many years, and where we would occasionally spend a night when her grandchildren, my cousins, would come to visit. Her son was a career Air Force officer and lived
in many places around the country.
“The Rock Island lived up to their commitment, and she worked long past the normal retirement age.
“When she finally retired, she was the longest tenured employee of the Rock Island.”
Her address for many years was listed as 10301 Walden Parkway, the 103rd Street station. All of the stations had second floors that were often lived in by the agents. This station no longer exists, it was replaced in the 1960s.
Marie also participated in clubs and activities.
Florence and she were both members of a cards club, the Beverly Five Hundred Club.
In 1943, the Ridge Court members of the Catholic Daughters of America (CDOA) held a supper followed by cards and games at the Food Research Institute downtown at Jackson and State Streets. The Food Research Institute fostered “better homemaking,” and developed new food formulas, tested and developed recipes, and staged food photography. It put on lunch and dinner events and was a popular venue for women’s clubs. This connects us to National Nutrition Month, which is also celebrated in March.
Florence was the chairman of the event. A few weeks before, the CDOA selected committee chairs for the year. Marie was appointed chair of the committee on caring for the sick, and Florence was appointed chair for “Americanism and national defense.”
Neither Florence nor Marie remarried.
Next post: Conclusion on Frank and Kate Egan.
