Facebook Archives

The Ridge Historical Society is saddened to learn of the death of Board member Kevin Bourke. Kevin was a very enthusiastic supporter of RHS and local history and always willing to step up and lend a hand. Here he is at RHS during Open House Chicago (OHC) in September of 2019, greeting guests and discussing RHS, the Graver-Driscoll House, and local history. Kevin is in the red OHC t-shirt.

Here is a link to his obituary. RIP and thank you, Kevin. Our sincerest condolences to his family.

https://www.legacy.com/obituaries/name/kevin-bourke-obituary?pid=197788738

February – Black History Month –#3

By Carol Flynn

Our third person of distinction with a school on the Ridge named for him to be profiled for Black History Month is Judge Wendell Green.

Wendell Elbert Green (1887-1959) was a lawyer and judge who had a distinguished career in Cook County, Illinois. He was considered a brilliant defense attorney, with a “forceful expression.” As a judge, he was known for his “clarity of judgment” and professional decorum.

Born in Kansas, Green was the son of an Episcopalian minister and a social worker. He yearned to become a lawyer, but others convinced him that the opportunities for Black men were limited in this field. He earned a degree in pharmacy from the University of Kansas in 1908. He worked as a pharmacist for a few years, but he still dreamt of practicing law.

In 1913, Green married Loraine Richardson, who would also become well-known in Chicago as the first Black woman to serve on the Chicago Board of Education. He took a civil service job as a postal clerk in order to transfer to Chicago in 1916 so Lorraine and he could attend the University of Chicago. Green worked his full-time postal job, went to school at night, and took a second job serving meals on campus to pay their tuition. He was told by the dean of the school he would never be able to complete the law program.

He graduated in 1920.

Establishing a private practice, he built his reputation as a defense attorney who rarely lost a case. The Chicago Defender newspaper carried many stories about Green’s appearances in court. One pivotal event happened in 1924.

Green was defending a Black man against the charge of intoxication. One white police officer said the man had been intoxicated at an event; nine Black witnesses said this was not the case. Green asked for the charges to be dropped but the judge replied that in his opinion the nine witnesses were lying.

The judge said, “It has been my experience in this court that colored people lie on the slightest provocation. They will lie when there is no need to lie. That is why I believe one white witness against your nine.”

Green was speechless for a moment, then he addressed the court, “his voice charged with anger, re-sounding through the courtroom.” He berated the judge for not being fair and impartial; by law, color should not be the test for credibility. He said that veracity and perjury belonged to no particular race, that the lying and perjured testimony of white witnesses had done great wrong, and that the judge had no right to decide the case based on the color of the witnesses.

Green then withdrew from the case and, taking up his hat and coat, left the courtroom.

The courtroom sat in an “electrified” silence. Then the judge, with “a flushed countenance,” dismissed the defendant. Attendees of both races rushed into the corridor to congratulate Green.

Green served as a public defender, then as a Civil Service Commissioner appointed by Mayor Edward Kelly. In 1942, he was elected as a judge to the Municipal Court of Chicago.

Governor Adlai Stevenson appointed Green to fill a vacancy on the Cook County Circuit Court in 1951, and he won re-election to this position the following year. Green was the first Black person to reach this judicial level. During his time on the Municipal and Circuit Courts, Green tried cases ranging from a landlord accused of overcharging a tenant $1.25 on his rent, to a sensational case of a police officer charged with the murder of two young men following an off-duty altercation in a bar.

From 1956 to 1958, Green was assigned by his fellow Circuit Court justices to head Juvenile Court. He was the first Black judge to oversee associate judges hearing cases for runaways, truancies, and delinquencies. He helped set up a facility focused on psychological services and training for the juveniles who came before the bench. His effort to help young people is considered by many to be Green’s greatest legacy left to the city and the people.

Because Blacks were not allowed to join white legal associations, they started their own groups. Green was active in the Cook County Bar Association (CCBA), the oldest association for Black lawyers and judges in the country. In 1925, he was one of the thirteen founders of the National Bar Association (originally the Negro Bar Association). When the Chicago Bar Association finally accepted Black members beginning in the 1940s, Green joined. The Chicago Bar Association always gave the highest ratings to Green for his performance as a judge.

Green served as president of the board of Provident Hospital, the first Black-owned and operated hospital in the country, established in Chicago in 1891 to provide medical services and training to Blacks denied access at other institutions. Green was also a board member of the National Conference of Christians and Jews.

In 1973, the Chicago Board of Education voted unanimously to name the new school at 1150 W. 96th Street in Wendell E. Green’s honor.

February – Black History Month –#2

By Carol Flynn

The second person who has a school named for her in a Ridge community to be profiled for Black History Month is Reverend Johnnie Colemon.

Johnnie Colemon (1920 – 2014) was a religious leader who inspired tens of thousands of people. She was a trailblazer who opened paths for other African American women to enter the ministry. And even though she had numerous honors and distinctions, she always insisted people just call her Johnnie.

Johnnie was born in Alabama and raised in Mississippi. In 1943, she earned a bachelor’s degree from Wylie College, a historically Black college located in Texas. She moved to Chicago and became a Chicago public school teacher.

In 1952, a health crisis took her to the Unity Church, which was founded in 1889 as a spiritual healing ministry. Today it is part of the “New Thought” movement.

Johnnie visited Unity headquarters near Kansas City, Missouri, and immediately felt at home with the teachings. She was accepted into the Unity School of Christianity, but even though the church taught that each person was a unique expression of God, sacred and worthy, Black students were not allowed to live in the school’s cottages or eat in the school restaurant, and had to sit in a segregated, roped off section in church.

Johnnie voiced her objections to these arrangements, and many of the whites considered her “arrogant.” But an unused cottage was made ready for her, although it was set apart from those of the white residents. She was the first Black person to live on campus.

She became an ordained Unity minister in 1956, the first African American woman to do so. Returning to Chicago, Reverend Colemon started her own church, at first meeting in a YMCA, but in a few years raising the money for her own building.

In 1968, Rev. Colemon was elected the first Black president of the Association of Unity Churches, causing some churches to quit. She then withdrew her church from the Unity organization, in part due to the systemic racism, and also because her philosophies were developing in other directions.

At that time, she renamed her church Christ Universal Temple (CUT). She also formed her own denomination, the Universal Foundation for Better Living, that now has thirty member churches internationally.

Rev. Colemon’s influence spread. Her sermons with positive, practical, understandable messages were well-received and her congregation kept growing. By 1985, CUT had grown into a megachurch and needed a building to accommodate its size.

Financial loans were almost impossible to come by for an African American woman, but Rev. Colemon persisted, and succeeded in obtaining funding through loans and donations. She had a new facility built at 119th Street and Ashland Avenue. This facility included a 3,500-seat auditorium, chapel, bookstore, banquet facility, and prayer center. She started an institute to train ministers and teachers. Her following grew to 20,000 members.

CUT has been the site for memorable events, including a 2005 Father’s Day address by then U. S. Senator Barack Obama. Rev. Colemon lived on the same block as the Obamas in Hyde Park/Kenwood. She ordained actress/singer/author Della Reese a minister in the 1980s; they became close friends.

In addition to her ministry, Rev. Colemon also held civic positions. She was a director of the Chicago Port Authority and a commissioner on the Chicago Transit Authority Oversight Committee. Her awards, including honorary doctorates, are too numerous to list here.

In 1999, she built a private elementary school as part of the CUT complex, which was named the Johnnie Colemon Academy. Because of the necessary tuition, the school met with limited success, and beginning in 2001, the Chicago Board of Education (CBOE) took over the building for a public school.

The Johnnie Colemon name was kept for the school, even though today’s CBOE rules, in keeping with the separation of church and state, prohibit naming a public school for a religious leader.

Picture: Rev. Johnnie Colemon outside her new Christ Unity Temple when it opened in 1985. Ebony magazine.

Ridge Historical Society – For Valentines Day

A Sparrow: Love in a Cottage

By Carol Flynn

According to a Chicago Tribune column from one hundred years ago, here is an old English superstition.

On Valentines Day, the first bird a maiden sees in the morning will determine her future marriage situation. If she sees a goldfinch, she will many a millionaire; if she sees a bluebird, she will live in poverty. If she sees a blackbird, she will marry a clergyman; if she sees a redbreast, she will marry a sailor.

If she sees a flock of doves, she will have good luck.

If she sees a sparrow, she will find love in a cottage. Chances are, in Chicago, and on the Ridge, the first bird a maiden will see is an English sparrow, also called a house sparrow. These birds were brought into the United States by collectors in the mid-1800s and introduced throughout the country. Early city park planners in Chicago released them into Lincoln Park. They are now the most widely distributed birds in the wild.

The Ridge has a vast collection of houses that can be considered “cottages.” There really is no specific definition of a cottage architecturally – in fact, there is a lot of similarity in the definitions for cottage, bungalow, cabin, and like structures.

Some general characteristics of cottages are that they are smaller frame houses, one or 1.5 floors, with dormers and small porches. They are usually thought of in terms of coziness and charm. In the United States, cottages are often associated with vacation properties.

Here are some pictures of well-known cottages in Beverly and Morgan Park displaying a variety of architecture styles. Both the original as well as a more current view of each cottage is shown. Some have been substantially altered but the charm is still there.

February – Black History Month

By Carol Flynn

Last year we started a series on the people for whom schools in our Ridge communities are named. We paused that series to cover other things.

For Black History Month, we will profile the five people of color who have schools named in their honor. We covered three last year, but we will start with repeating those, then cover the other two.

Percy Julian has the distinction of having a high school named for him.

Percy Lavon Julian (1899-1975) was a research scientist who received over 130 chemical patents during his lifetime. He was inducted into the National Academy of Sciences in 1973, the first African American chemist to receive this honor. He was a pioneer in the chemical synthesis of medicinal drugs and human hormones from plants. His work led to treatments for glaucoma and infertility. When researchers showed the effectiveness of cortisone in treating rheumatoid arthritis, Julian improved the process for producing cortisone, greatly reducing costs.

Dr. Julian spent his life trying to overcome racial discrimination in education and employment. In his later years, he stated, “I feel that my own good country robbed me of the chance for some of the great experiences that I would have liked to live through. Instead, I took a job where I could get one and tried to make the best of it. I have been, perhaps, a good chemist, but not the chemist that I dreamed of being.”

Percy Julian was born in rural Alabama; one grandparent was an emancipated slave. He attended segregated schools until a white teacher who had taught Julian’s parents pulled strings to get him admitted to DePauw University in Indiana.

The school accepted him but would not allow him to live in the dorm. He found a boarding house, but they would not feed him. He went for days without eating before he found a place that would serve him. He later found work firing the furnace, waiting tables, and doing other odd jobs in a fraternity house; in return, he was allowed to sleep in the attic and eat at the house.

He was years behind the white students academically and took remedial classes at night while attending college classes during the day and working as a ditch digger. Despite all of this, he graduated first in his class and was valedictorian.

The practice at DePauw was to help students find post-graduate opportunities, however, the school would not help Julian because of his race. He was discouraged from pursuing a Ph.D. or employment in industry, and advised to find a teaching job in a “Negro college in the south.”

He received a scholarship to earn his master’s degree at Harvard University. However, because white students objected to a Black instructor, he was refused a teaching assistantship that would lead to a Ph.D.

Julian was awarded a fellowship to the University of Vienna, Austria, and earned his Ph.D. in 1931. In Europe, he was welcomed into the social, intellectual, and academic life he was denied in the U.S. He made life-long friends in the European community and helped Jewish friends escape the Holocaust.

Returning to the U.S., finding employment was difficult. Julian took a position teaching at Howard University, the historically Black university in Washington, D.C.

He then accepted a research fellowship back at DePauw, and his career as a research scientist began. However, when the fellowship ended, he was denied a teaching professorship there and had to find new employment. He was told by DePauw University “the time wasn’t right” for a Black professor.

DuPont offered a job to Julian’s research partner at DePauw, who was white, but declined to hire Julian, apologizing that the company was “unaware he was a Negro.” He turned down another position because Blacks were not allowed in the town past sundown.

Julian accepted a job at Glidden company in Chicago where he was able to continue his research. He left there in 1953 and formed his own company, which he sold in 1961 for $2.3 million.

The Julians were the first African Americans to move into Oak Park. Attempts were made to burn their house down, and a bomb was thrown at the house. The police reported they could not identify any suspects for the crimes. White neighbors formed a group to support them but even so, threats continued for many years.

Chemistry was the break-through “technology” of the early and mid-1900s. Dr. Julian achieved great things – by any standards, he was much more than a “good” chemist. But for him, the issue was how much more he might have accomplished if given the same opportunities available to white chemists. After his death, he received recognition from the schools he attended, but as one DePauw scholar noted, the university finally had to embrace Julian because he became a success, Julian did not become a success because the university embraced him.

The Percy L. Julian High School opened at 10330 S. Elizabeth Street in 1975. In 1993, he was featured on the Black Heritage stamp, a series initiated by the U.S. Postal Service in 1978.

Just to let everyone know – the new RHS website will be up and running next week. I got distracted by the "ring adventure," helping a student with a history fair project, and trying to find a location to get the COVID vaccine. These issues are settled now so back to the website. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)

Just a little research project …. the kind we love.

By Carol Flynn

An unfortunate gentleman reported he lost his wedding ring in the snow over the week-end and is trying hard to find it.

This prompted Sarah Batka to post that she found a wedding ring about 6-8 years ago while gardening at her house on Artesian Ave. There were initials and a date inside the ring. But she had no luck in finding the owner. She held onto the ring.

Clare Duggan tagged me at the Ridge Historical Society, wondering if we could help find the person to whom that ring belonged. I said sure, this is the kind of research project we love, let’s see what we can find.

So Linda Lamberty, RHS Historian, and I got on this Sunday night. We started with our usual sources – government and building records, newspaper archives, genealogy sites, etc. And we found the likely owner of the ring. She was the granddaughter of the couple who had lived in the house at one time. She now lives in San Antonio, Texas.

The woman was on Facebook, and around 2:30 a.m., I sent an enthusiastic if somewhat disjointed message to her. Was this ring by chance hers?

She replied later Monday morning – it was hers! She lost it 50 years ago in the snow at her grandmother's house! She was amazed that it had been found all these years later. We got together by phone and had a teary-eyed conversation.

The ring belongs to Karen Berk Autenrieth, who married Robert Autenrieth on April 16, 1966. The inscription inside the ring reads “R.A. to K. B. 4-16-66.” It’s a beautiful ring – heavy gold, and in surprisingly good condition for being in the dirt for 50 years – a little scratched up, but not bad at all. Pictures of the ring and inscription are attached.

I now have THE RING in my possession, and it is my duty to get it to San Antonio before February 14, when Karen’s family is gathering, and want to witness her open the package with the ring in it. I have a new appreciation for Frodo Baggins. I'll be nervous until I know it arrives there safely. (I’m feeling like maybe I should drive down there in person to deliver the ring – and crash the party ….)

We’d love to have Karen and Sarah share their parts of the story.

And to the gentleman who lost his ring this week-end: We hope you find it – it has to be there. Don’t give up hope! Maybe we can stage a “walk the grid” community search party when the snow melts.

@Sarah Batka, @Karen Autenrieth

Chicago got some snow from last night into today – about 3.5 inches in the Beverly/Morgan Park/Mount Greenwood area. Not bad by Chicago standards.

But this same date – January 26-27 – in 1967 saw the greatest snowfall in one storm in Chicago's history – a whopping 23 inches incapacitated the city for days. It was a full-blown blizzard with gusting winds up to 50 miles per hour creating drifts of 15 feet.

RHS does not have any good pictures of that blizzard from the community so if anyone would like to share pictures – and stories – that would be great. One woman shared the story that she went into labor and no cars could get through so her family had to take her by sled over to Little Company of Mary Hospital.

Chicago had so much snow, they actually loaded it onto railroad cars and sent it down south to melt. This photo is from the Chicago Tribune, February 11, 1967.

Martin Luther King, Jr., stated: “We are not makers of history. We are made by history.”

One point he was trying to make is that to understand the present, we need to study the past.

Today, Martin Luther King Jr. Day, is an appropriate day to announce that beginning in February, Black History Month, the Ridge Historical Society will explore the history of race relations and integration in the Ridge communities. This fits in well with the 2021 theme of “The Black Family: Representation, Identity and Diversity.”

Introduction: Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Visit to the South Side of Chicago

Excerpted from a Time Magazine article by Olivia B. Waxman, updated January 16, 2020

Martin Luther King, Jr., is usually associated with civil rights activities in the southern states, but in 1966, he spent time in Chicago.

In January of 1966, he moved into an apartment on Chicago’s west side to call attention to the poor living conditions of people of color in many of the northern cities. The slogan for the Chicago campaign was simply “End Slums.”

On August 5, 1966, he planned to lead a march in Marquette Park – centered around 69th Street and South Kedzie Avenue – to a realtor’s office to call attention to discrimination in the housing market.

He was attacked by a swarm of about 700 white protesters hurling bricks, bottles, and rocks. One rock hit King and knocked him to one knee. His aides rushed to shield him, and he remained in a kneeling position for a few moments until his head cleared. That is the picture included here.

Afterward, King told reporters, “I’ve been in many demonstrations all across the South, but I can say that I have never seen, even in Mississippi and Alabama, mobs as hostile and as hate-filled as I’m seeing in Chicago.”

President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the Fair Housing Act into law on April 11, 1968, one week after Dr. King’s assassination. It was an important step in equalizing opportunities, but it was just a beginning step.

Follow RHS for the series in February.

Photo from the Chicago Tribune.

The history posts from the Ridge Historical Society have been totally lost in recent days because of the continuing turmoil in the country, and understandably so. Still, I feel the need to complete this story that I started. Then I will take a rest from any more posts until the new RHS website is up and running, which will be by February 1. Future stories will be found on the website, not on social media. I will post links to the website stories on Facebook.

Upcoming series will include: The history of the 19th Ward; stories related to the history of integration and race relationships in Ridge communities; case studies on pandemic relief efforts (history in the making); artists on the Ridge; a continuation of the series on people for whom schools on the Ridge are named; the "cult" that called Beverly "home;" more on Dan Ryan Woods; more on Beverly Gardens and Prohibition stories; and many more stories.

Thank you for your support – continue to watch the RHS page for what's next!

Excitement on the Ridge in 1921 – Part 5

By Carol Flynn

Eddie Morris was arrested for the murder of police officer John Mullen on January 8, 1921. The newspapers and his lawyers reported Morris was “fighting for his life” from the bullet wounds inflicted by police but the prison doctor said he would recover.

The State Attorney’s office promised a trial would begin within 30 days. If Morris was too weak to come to court, the trial would take place at his bedside.

Witnesses were brought to his hospital room to identify him as the shooter. The grand jury brought an indictment against him on January 11.

Morris’s mother, wife, and a sister visited him the next day. His mother tearfully insisted Eddie “did not have the heart to kill anyone” and that someone was trying to shift the blame to him.

Morris was carried into court in a chair for his arraignment on January 20. John McEvilly was also charged. Both pleaded not guilty.

During all this time, the third man, Eddie McBride, was still a fugitive. He was finally arrested on February 4th at a rooming house on the near west side. After being “grilled” for twelve hours, he confessed that Morris had done the shooting and he had driven the get-away car. His story agreed with that of the other witnesses.

The trial of all three men, Morris, McEvilly, and McBride, began on March 16, 1921, and witness after witness described the shooting.

In summary: The three men, all armed, intended to rob the restaurant. They drank with three 15-16 year old girls for about 45 minutes. McEvilly and Morris stayed inside the restaurant, while McBride and two of the girls went outside to the car. Morris had an altercation with the coat check woman and pulled a gun. The employee alerted the owner. The owner called the police. Officer Mullen was just half a block away and came immediately to the restaurant, apparently fetched by a restaurant employee.

By now, bystanders inside and outside of the restaurant were starting to take notice of the commotion, which increased the number of witnesses who observed what happened next. When Mullen entered the restaurant, Morris came up behind him and stuck a gun in his back, telling him to raise his hands. Morris was reaching for Mullen’s gun when a bystander shouted a warning to Mullen. Mullen began to turn, and Morris shot him at point-blank range. The coroner said the bullet actually entered Mullen from the front, not the back.

Morris then ran out the door, where McBride and the girls were waiting in the car. Morris said he had just shot a “dick,” a long-time slang term for a detective or police officer, and they had to get away fast. They threatened to kill the girls if they talked. They drove away.

McEvilly was discovered hiding in the men’s room, where he tried to stash his gun, but he was taken into custody, along with the third teen-aged girl.

The prosecution called for the death penalty for Morris, and the case went to the jury at 10:00 p.m. on March 26.

On March 27, Morris was found guilty of the crime and sentenced to life in prison. McBride and McEvilly were acquitted of the charges against them.

Law enforcement officials were not happy with the sentence that Morris received, or the verdicts for McBride and McEvilly. Chief of Police Charles C. Fitzmorris said in a Tribune article that Morris’ sentence was another “sad fact of nobody cares.” Morris could be released from prison one day to again walk the streets of Chicago and defy the law. McBride and McEvilly were free now to continue their careers of crime.

The same was the sentiment of State’s Attorney Robert E. Crowe, who had stated there was no other sentence possible for this murder but the death penalty. Crowe would go on to fame for prosecuting the infamous Leopold and Loeb murder case in 1924. In that situation, lawyer Clarence Darrow saved the two killers of Bobby Franks from the death penalty. He tried to use the defense of insanity, but the judge let them off because of their youth.

Aftermath

Eddie Morris spent the rest of his life in prison in Joliet. His name still came up in the news. He tried to escape from prison by leaving a stuffed dummy in his cell while he hid in a sewer catch basin. He was found after two days and placed in solitary confinement. The 1940 U.S. Census lists him as an inmate in Joliet, and he had to register with the draft in 1943 for World War II, which he did in Joliet. He died in 1951 at the age of 59, presumably while still in prison. He was buried in Missouri, where his mother was.

Eddie McBride was identified as “Clarence Kelly” who had escaped from San Quentin prison in California early in 1920 while serving time for a San Francisco robbery. He said he would never go back to prison, he would not survive there. While being returned to San Quentin in May 1921, he escaped by jumping out a train car window. In 1923, a mutilated corpse was found near Geneva, Illinois, with its hands and other identifying marks cut off and face burned. One law officer, involved in the Mullen murder case, was sure that was McBride. The theory was that this was retaliation for having turned against Morris. However, physical evidence did not support this being McBride. The body was buried without identification. No other mention of McBride or Kelly is found after that time.

John McEvilly was still showing up in Chicago newspaper stories in 1949 at the age of 52. He was stabbed in the side and taken to the hospital but refused to identify his assailant. When the police investigated, his wife Shirley admitted she was the one who “accidentally” stabbed him. McEvilly was described as the “erstwhile hoodlum and political henchman” of Titus Haffa, an ex-alderman. McEvilly was frequently questioned by the police about jewelry robberies, and was accused of stealing ballot boxes and threatening the candidate running against Haffa in 1928, but he could not be positively identified.