Little League Baseball And Caddie Economics

Last summer in a post that features a team photo of myself with the Morton Grove 1966 Little League North Side All Stars I said,

We posted this just short of half-century old nostalgic photo on my personal Facebook page back in 2011. We were reminded of it the last few days when a couple of my childhood friends somehow ferreted it out from among my hundreds of pictures posted, and clicked the Like button. It occurred to me that some among the broader audience of current and former Morton Grove residents who read my blog might find the photo of interest. Now the pictured individuals will have an opportunity to turn up in search engine results.

Sure enough, through the magic up the internet, I heard a couple of weeks back from a pictured teammate, Rich Kengott. Rich shared his copy of the team photo, which includes a contemporaneous caption identifying the players. 

Rich also sent a picture of the back side of the framed photo, which has my father's name and the address of the home I was raised in from 1953 to 1971.

Thanks to Dad for kindly distributing this framed piece of memorabilia to each of the players on the 1966 team.

I can see now the earlier post erroneously identified the fellow holding the crossed bats as Rich Lauson. We know now that was Bob Warren. I will correct it.

Our ties went beyond baseball. Rich and I started caddying together at Glen View Club in September 1964. Each caddie was assigned a number. But that first fall we did not get our own number as we were kind of like late season baseball farm system call ups who had not earned a permanent job. We caddied on our brother's caddie numbers. I recollect my number was 118a and Rich's number was number "a" something or other too, caddying off of his brother Ray's number, if I recollect his older brother's name correctly. 

Bless Rich for keeping the caddie badges which issued with his numbers from six out of our first seven full years. I remember the first year his number was 147 and mine was 145, mine lower probably because my first loop was a few days earlier than his the previous fall. Each year thereafter, my number was one lower than Rich's because whoever had been assigned 146 in year one fell out of the program

My numbers were 145 in 1965, 94 in 1966, 68 in 1967, 39 in 1968, 12 in 1970 and 10 in 1971. Rich's year 1969 badge is missing, but I recall I was something like number 19, which would have made him 20. If memory serves me right I was number 2 caddying weekends while working a factory job in 1972.

Rich kept detailed records on caddie pay. 

Here is some clarification on the caddie pay. 

1966 caddie badge # 95 earned July 5, 3.50 a bag and by Aug 9, 4.75 a bag; 1967 caddie badge #69 earned July 5, 4.75 a bag and Aug 5, 9.50 doubles; 1968 caddie badge #40 earned July 4, 9.50 doubles and July 21 and the rest of the year 10.50 doubles; 1969 caddie badge #13? I think it was in the 20’s, earned July 4, 10.50 doubles all year. 

I stopped recording after 1969. I continued to caddy for a few more years but also found a factory job with my best friend Bob Casey. We worked the next six summers for his neighbor Bob Palka at Detex Corporation in Chicago.

I remember taking the Skokie Swift down to the Howard Street L with Bob Casey to attend a Cubs game in 1967. Bob was kind of baby faced. He wanted to save 50 cents or whatever the fare difference was by paying the youth fare (age 12 and under). The CTA attendant asked what Bob's birthday was. He replied with a month and date late in the year. The attendant asked what year. Bob replied 1953. Bob paid the adult fare.

Here are a couple of pages from Rich's 1966 hard copy caddie record.

The $2.00 entries are for 9-hole loops. Back in the day we earned "winter" pay early and late in the year, which meant $4.00 (instead of $3.50) a bag for 18 holes and $2.00 (instead of $1.75) a bag for nine holes. Five of the nine dates in April were on weekends, two were on Fridays, and two were mid-week. We caddied after school when we could. The Catholic school kids were released earlier than us public school students and could parlay that into better after school earnings. Most of the caddies attended St. Martha's school in Morton Grove or Notre Dame High School in Niles.  

By the end of the golf season Rich was carrying doubles most of the time and was earning $4.75 a bag for 18 holes. Rich's records definitively identify 1966 as the caddie strike year (check this link for the story of that three and one-half hour work stoppage), indicated by the large (from $3.50 to $4.75 or 35 percent) increase in pay. For the year his earnings were $737.10 ($5,394.28 in 2016 dollars), not bad for a 13-year old kid in 1966. Spring, summer and fall of 1966, baseball and caddying, earning and saving money, finishing junior high and getting ready for high school -- it was a very busy and eventful time.

Found Again!

Readers of this blog know I have posted a number of times on the pre baby boom history of my hometown of Morton Grove, Illinois, and pipe up every now and again about goings on in or near my family's current residence of Bozeman, Montana. As these municipalities are geographically separated by the better part of a mile vertically and some 1,300 miles horizontally, and their populations are modest (Bozeman 37,280 and Morton Grove 23,270 in the last decennial census) you would not expect there would  be a whole lot of intersection between the two populations.

But I received an email at my blog address the other day titled "Small World" (you can get to my email address by clicking through the "View my full profile link" on the right side of this page). The sender, who we shall refer to as Mr. Moody, wrote as follows,

Hi Grady:

I recently happened upon your Blog.  I am also from Morton Grove, and vaguely remember you from early childhood.  I lived on 9000 block of Moody Street,  went to Park View, then Niles West (Class of 76), and then on to Ann Arbor, Berkeley and beyond.  You were about 4-5 years ahead of me if my recollection is correct.

I relocated here (Bozeman) in 2000 in an effort to escape the city and the practice of law (and to flyfish, ski, hike, etc.)

It would be good to meet you sometime.  Keep up the Blog!

Mr. Moody

### West Something or Other St

Bozeman, MT 59715

(406) ###-####

We love making new friends, discovering long lost or previously unknown relatives, and assisting people seeking our help to connect with others whom they surmise we might be able to find or hone in on based on writings in our blog (though the story had a bittersweet ending, we were able to help a man adopted as an infant track down his birth mother). 

My life story seems to parallel (I attended rival schools in Madison and Palo Alto) my Bozeman neighbor more than a little bit. I responded.


Mr. Moody,

Great to hear from you!

Your name sounds familiar, like I met you playing golf here or something like that. Your name is not ringing a bell from back in the day.

We are ... just east of town.

I presume you've read my Morton Grove posts. If not, they are tagged Morton Grove in the right hand column of my blog.

Caddied for nine years at Glen View Club, got the caddie scholarship, went to U Wisc. then Stanford and lived and worked in the DC area for 34 years before retiring and moving to Bozeman.

Yes I graduated Niles West 1971 after attending Park View all the way through. Lived on the corner of Austin and Davis at 9101 N. Austin. I probably walked by your house on the way to or from Park View a thousand times.

I have accumulated a lot of research on the Poehlmann Bros. greenhouse operation that, depending on which side of Moody you lived on, would have been in your backyard (see greenhouses in image below). I'll get it written up sometime in the next couple of months.

Morton Grove, aerial view, 1939, courtesy USGS>

I have a question. The Bozeman Parks website says Southside isn't open for skating yet, Is that right? I promised to take my kids skating.

Until later.

Cheers,

Grady

The Poehlmann Bros. Greenhouses (shuttered but not yet taken down in this 1939 view) are the row upon row of structures between Moody and the (North Branch of the Chicago) river in the above right photo. Our correspondent grew up in a home on Moody Avenue between Lake Street and Davis Street. We actually blogged once about the route I walked in my childhood to Park View School down his block of Moody, and another time wrote on the block north of Mr. Moody's childhood home that has been taken back by nature. I learned how to ice skate in Harrer Park and attended Park View School grades K through 8, located since the 1950s where the Poehlman brothers once grew roses, carnations, mums, lilies, and other flowers and greenery for the wholesale florist market. 

I passed by Mr. Moody's childhood home the day Kennedy was shot.

My correspondent wrote back.

Grady:

Great to hear from you, too.  They still seem to be working on the ice each morning, but it does not appear to be open yet.  It should be open any day now.

Please feel free to give me a call (or knock on the door) when you head to South Side Park – my house faces the north side of the Park.

Mr. Moody

Just how small of a world is it?

Our daughter Blake skating at South Side Park in Bozeman, February 2014. Our correspondent's home -- quite literally -- is in the background. 

With below normal temperatures through most of December, it most certainly has been cold enough, long enough to lay the ice at South Side. We suspect some sort of a labor issue is responsible for the delay. When we get around to lacing our skates up, we will be sure to knock at Mr. Moody's door and say "Hi."

George Boznos and Sons: The Founding and Operation of Fabled Par King Skill Golf in Morton Grove, Illinois

When we grew up in Morton Grove Illinois during the late 1950s and through the 1960s, nothing represented the grandeur and the muscular vitality of the city of Chicago more than the Prudential building. Whether we were motoring along Lake Shore Drive or driving down to the Loop via the Northwest Expressway (as the Kennedy was initially known), we would gaze up and see the broad shouldered limestone edifice standing proudly above all. 

1950's view of the Prudential building, Chicago, from the lakefront.

Broadcast News Magazine, Vol. 112,
December, 1961

Back in the day WGN TV transmitted its signal over the airwaves from an antenna on top of the Prudential building. The antenna plus its supporting tower on top of the building rose a combined total of 914 feet above ground level, making it the tallest structure by far in the City of Chicago. 

The Prudential has a storied history. For two decades, from 1934 onward, through Depression and War, construction in Chicago had ground to a half. The skyline whose towers had popped up like weeds in the 1920's became frozen in time.

With an easement to build a trestle and breakwater a short distance from shore, the Illinois Central Railroad had controlled Chicago's lakefront since the 1850's. 
From the bank of the river southward, the IC had created a massive railyard, dominated by a huge sign for Pabst beer that as it met Michigan Avenue to the east was the most ambitious bit of construction on the site.

The Prudential Building would change all of that, When it was announced in 1951, it became the first structure to be built over Illinois Central air rights, and the opening shot in the revival of major new office construction. It included new viaducts along its perimeter, and a completely new street, the one-block Stetson Avenue, named after Edward Stetson, an I.C. board president. According to a post on the Connecting the Windy City blog, the air rights deed was 85 pages long and identified 500 small, individual pieces of property.

At 42 stories and 601 feet, the Prudential would fall just four feet short of overtaking the Board of Trade as Chicago's tallest building. Designed by Naess and Murphy, it broke ground on August 12, 1952. At nearly 22 million cubic feet, it was the fifth larger building in the city. Each of its 2,617 windows were double-glazed, and designed to allow both sides to be washed from the inside.

The Prudential was a compendium of superlatives. At 1,400 feet-per-minute, it's elevators were the world's fastest, and popping ears became standard elevator car conversation for first-time visitors. The Prudential had the biggest floor-to-floor heights. It's air conditioning capacity --  3,150 tons -- also set a record. Elevator service stopped at the 40th floor, and the world's tallest escalators carried visitors to the 41st floor and its observatory, which actually bested the one at the Board of Trade to become the tallest in Chicago. The panoramic views from Stouffer's Top of the Rock restaurant immediately made it a destination dining location for tourists and locals alike.

The Prudential building hole at Par King in Morton
Grove. A putt into the central elevator shaft went up
and over the top from where the ball would drop out
onto the rear green, tracking at or near the hole. 
A putt on either side would take an indirect route 
that made even a deuce difficult. 

It was a special treat for grade school students, Brownies or Cub Scouts on a field trip or families on a weekend excursion, to whoosh aboard the high speed elevators and climb up the sparkling escalators to the Prudential building's top floor, where they could experience the observation deck's uninterrupted vistas of Chicago to its borders and beyond. 

But we in Morton Grove did not need to travel 24 miles southeast to view the modern skyscraper. We had our very own Prudential building in the village on the grounds of the Par King Skill Golf course, where it stood out as a first among equals including scale-model replicas of national monuments like Mount Rushmore and the Statue of Liberty, and more whimsical icons such as the Old Lady Who Lived in a Shoe, The Three Bears and Humpty Dumpty. 

Morton Grove Little League All Stars, 1966

We posted this just short of half-century old nostalgic photo on my personal Facebook page back in 2011. We were reminded of it the last few days when a couple of my childhood friends somehow ferreted it out from among my hundreds of pictures posted, and clicked the Like button. It occurred to me that some among the broader audience of current and former Morton Grove residents who read my blog might find the photo of interest. Now the pictured individuals will have an opportunity to turn up in search engine results.

Morton Grove north side All Stars 1966. Starting top left: Tom Brown, John Tritschler, Kevin Dohm, Grady Foster, and Scott McKay. First Row: Richie Kengott, Michael Vincini, Rick Lauson, Bobby Brown and Ricky Klaser. Not pictured, Eugene Knepper and Bob Warren.

The names are as best as I can recollect, supplemented by several corrections and fill in the blanks supplied by Facebook friends. Additional corrections and amplifications are welcome (to email me go to the link on my profile page).

In the 1960s Morton Grove Little League (ages 8 through 12) was split into north and south divisions, with teams competing exclusively within division. Towards the end of each season separate all star teams were named for north and south to compete in the single elimination tournament against other towns that led eventually to the Little League World Series in Williamsport, Pennsylavania. As I recall the dividing line between north and south was Dempster Street. There were AAA, minor (blue hats) and major (green hats) leagues. When in the majors I played on the Senators in the north. Our games were played at Harrer, Mansfield, Palma Lane and National Parks. My coach was a gentleman by the name of Bob Gore, an insurance agent who lived in a home abutting National Park, down the first base line. I bought my first life insurance policy from Mr. Gore when I was sixteen years old.

My father coached a different team in the same league -- the Indians if I recall correctly. My dad used our lawn mower to create a practice field in the Forest Preserve clearing down the street from our house on Austin Avenue. Dad had the best drilled team in the league. They were repeat champions. The Senators were a perennial patsy for the Indians.  

The Bugle, July 14, 1966

The only time we played at a field with an outfield fence was in All Star games. With our sparkling white all star uniforms, professional umpiring, freshly raked and lined and mowed fields, playing in an All Star game to us felt like appearing in the big leagues. 

After initially posting this photo we happened across this Bugle article to the right when we searched using several of the players names, announcing the north -- and south --- all stars, in 1966, not 1965 as we had first assumed. Based on the article, I have made what I think will be the final corrections of the names.

I was a center fielder and pitcher who played only center field as an All Star because we were one and done. I don't recall the score other than that the game was close and low scoring. I remember shaking like a leaf as the drive rose towards me, but still catching a hard hit fly ball near the center field fence. I struggled at the plate. Our game was at Austin Park, which had a home run snow fence installed across the outfield special for the occasion. I wore the MG hat that signified my All Star status until it frayed around the edges. The uniforms were returned for use by the next year's team. So it was, growing up in Morton Grove in the summer of 1966.

Morton Grove During the Baby Boom: Carl Eckhardt, His Filling Station and the International Brotherhood of the Teamsters

We wax nostalgic in our Morton Grove history posts. The research is fun and interesting. The posts are pretty popular too. So I've been poking around, looking for fresh material on Morton Grove people, places and things from the "old days" suitable for research and writing. 

It is an easy call to work toward a post or posts about the Poehlmann Bros. greenhouse operation, but not for today. The firm opened in Morton Grove in 1887 and was a major local employer until it succumbed to the Great Depression. Poehlman Bros. was a sprawling, nationally known and immensely successful business, at its peak said to be "the largest of its kind in existence." 

Ad in the Evening Times (Grand Forks N. Dak.), November 13, 1911. "We are distributors for this territory for the famous Poehlmann Bros. Co, the largest, most modern, best equipped flower growing establishment in the world, employing the most skilled workmen and producing flowers that command the patronage of the most critical public, from the Atlantic to the Pacific and from Winnipeg to New Orleans.

There is a mountain of accessible research material on Poehlmann Bros. It will take quite some time to sift through the materials and organize thoughts. In the meantime I've been looking for projects that can be digested and presented in more readily manageable chunks.

So I poked around looking for 1950s and 1960s material on Morton Grove public schools, especially District 70 and Park View School, which I attended, hoping to find newsworthy items. I used the name "Eckhardt" in a few searches, keying off of Edward E. Eckhardt, who was superintendent of schools and unquestioned authority during my nine years (K through 8) at Park View. Entering "Eckhardt" together with "Morton Grove" in search engines turned up plenty of hits in the news clipping services. But very little was on Edward. Almost everything was on his brother Carl. Some of the best finds are accidental. 

There are dozens of reports on Carl's decade long standoff with the International Brotherhood of the Teamsters. The brotherhood was an irresistible force. It encountered a man who was an immovable object.

Brother Carl and his modest two pump gas station on the northeast corner of Austin and Lincoln avenues, stood toe-to-toe against the the teamsters union. The union local he took on was so tough that it prevailed time and again in internal turf battles fought against the Jimmy Hoffa led national union. Carl insisted on principle. The teamsters insisted on dues and more dues. Carl withstood pressures that made his competitors wilt. Litigation and lobbying ensued. The resulting publicity revealed Carl's mettle and exposed the seedy side of the United States labor union movement. 

Morton Grove Before the Baby Boom: Fred Sonne -- Pilot, Innovater and Aerial Photographer

In this Morton Grove post we take a break from reprising the Dempster Street roadhouse era to honor a person's life.

We chronicle the accomplishments of one of Morton Grove's favorite sons, or I should say a favorite Sonne -- Fred Sonne that is. He was a machinist who wanted to be an engineer, an engineer who dreamed about becoming a pilot, a pilot who studied to be a photographer, and a photographer who aspired to serve his country. He was driven and committed. Fred Sonne combined his myriad interests and honed his varied skills to become inventor and pioneer in the fields of aerial photography and surveillance camera design. In so doing, he helped to shape the course of history.

The Fred Sonne Airfield.

Fred Sonne is remembered primarily today by Morton Grovers for the operation of Sonne Airfield. The Morton Grove Community Relations Commission honored Sonne for that with a commemorative street corner plaque, which states in part:

Sonne Airfield plaque, southwest corner of
Meade Ave. and Lake St., Morton Grove

The Fred Sonne Airfield, which operated from 1919 to 1932, was established in an open prairie that stretched from Dempster Street north to the forest preserve and between what is now Moody and Meade Avenues. Early air shows were held here featuring stunts such as wing walking, parachute jumps, and other aerobatics. Chance Lawson, a pilot hired for a local promotion, had to make an emergency landing at Wayside Woods, now known as Linne Woods. One of the wings was damaged during the landing. A local resident, Fred Sonne, repaired the damaged airplane. This incident started their friendship, and later on they became business partners. The two men purchased surplus World War I biplanes which they assembled and sold to other pilots. In later years as many as 30 planes were stored at the field.

 Plaque dedication ceremony announcement,

  The Bugle, November 19, 1998

Here is the Chicago Tribune's description of the serendipitous event that launched the young man's aviation career:  

Fate took a hand in the selection of a career for Fred T. Sonne by causing an ancient Jenny [Curtis JN-4] plane to crack up in May, 1919, on his grandfather's farm in Dempster Ave. some miles west of Evanston. 

The Jenny was being flown by George Russell, a World War I pilot, and Chance Losson to a nearby golf club for an exhibition. Sonne, then 20, retrieved and fixed the plane and thereby started a lifetime career in aviation.

***** 

The day before Memorial day in May, 1919, occurred the big event which changed the young man's life -- the crash of the Jenny plane in his grandfather's hay field. The occupants weren't hurt but the plane was a mess. Fred looked it over and figured he could fix it. He made a deal to rebuild it for a fourth interest.

Soon thereafter Fred quit his job with Otis [Elevator Co.] and entered into an "airplane partnership." 

Fred Sonne's formal education ended with his graduation from grammar school. But his actual education was lifelong. 

Fred Sonne was born Feb. 9, 1899, on Argyle St., [Chicago] near the present " L" station. He was the second child in a family which included six boys and one girl. When Fred was a year old the family moved to Morton Grove. His father, William W., was an engineer for the Automatic Electric company, and prior to that he had worked for Western Electric company 

Fred went to grammar school in the suburb. The youngster went to the Lutheran church in town. He was especially fond of his grandfather, Fred Huscher, who had a farm near Morton Grove.

When Fred was about 10 the father became ill and thereafter worked only intermittently. So the youngster and his older brother both pitched in to help supply the family with an income. Fred delivered newspapers and worked on his grandfather's farm.

Bright in his studies, the boy skipped a couple of grades and so was graduated from grammar school in 1911 when he was 12. He immediately went to work for an uncle, Fred Jr., who had a coal and ice business in Morton Grove.

After leaving grammar school Fred continued his reading under the guidance of a teacher who was anxious to see him continue his education. 

Foreman Takes Interest in Young Sonne.

About 1914 he got a job with Otis Elevator company, starting as an apprentice. He first worked in the wood shop and six months later moved to the machine shop.

Charles Klein, a foreman, took an interest in the boy when he saw how interested he was in his work. Klein gave him books to read on machine tools and taught him how to sharpen tools.

The foreman gave the youngster some advice:

"Learn to let the machine work for you. Make the machine work as hard as it can and run it to the limit of its capacity."

By heeding this advice the boy found he could get twice as much out of a machine as older men in the shop. In World War I Fred tried to get in naval aviation but was unable to do so. He worked on rudder posts for Liberty ships which the Otis plant produced.

John and Bonnie: A Profile in Oil, Finance, Politics and High Society

I admit to being a skeptic and little impressed by power, position or authority.

In part, the ‘tude goes back to my days as a caddie. I learned the lesson young. I was the youngest at the caddie shack (a converted polo pony stable actually) the first time I caddied in 1964 at the ripe old age of ten. I continued caddying most every day each summer and weekends spring and fall, through 1971. I completed my caddie career after my first year of college in 1972, when I caddied summer weekends to supplement my weekday summer factory job earnings.

I caddied at Glen View Club in Golf Illinois, whose membership included well known doctors and lawyers, financiers, old money rich, merchandisers, bankers and many leading industrialists. It was an exclusive enclave imbued with tradition.The club's pedigree dates back to 1897. Glen View Club once hosted a U.S. Open golf championship. 

On the golf course, my loops (caddie slang for the people we caddied for) were taking a break from their business or professional lives. From a couple of feet, I would see them as they really were -- least so I thought. Do they play by the rules? Does my loop wallow in adversity or dig down deep to overcome it? Is the person focused or flighty? Fast or slow? Is the guy/gal sullen or sunny? Is he/she generous or stingy? Kind or mean? I saw these people as real human beings, exposing their full range of virtues and flaws, no matter how high or mighty might be their station in life.

I recall a particular Glen View Club member -- a gruff and reserved guy who had a paunch and wore wrinkled Bermuda shorts that exposed his pasty white legs. This guy was a woeful golfer who hacked the turf unmercifully and could not clear a water hazard to save his soul. He seemed incapable of improvement. I kind of wondered why he golfed at all. There was little joy and he was totally inept.

He sometimes played couples golf with his much younger wife. His wife was his opposite -- pretty, sunny and vivacious. She affected a Southern belle persona and syrupy accent – more than a bit melodramatically. On the golf course the wife wore short culottes and dressed colorfully and fashionably, her haired dyed golden blonde. She was a pistol. 

Her name was Bonnie. His name was John.

Addendum to the Lincoln Tavern Post

Earlier this week, when we linked to our Lincoln Tavern post on the We Grovers From Morton Grove group on Facebook, we were invited to join the Morton Grove Historical Society group as well, and did so promptly, where we came across a post that linked to an aerial shot of Morton Grove, said to have been shot in 1938-39. Here is the aerial shot.

One of the reasons I like this overview is it shows that Chick Evans (nee Northwestern) golf course actually had some sand traps back in the day. Further, it showed the golf course layout and bunkering at Glen View Club were exactly then as during the 1960s and 1970s when I caddied there. At the time, much of Morton Grove was an abandoned development (roads cut through and sidewalks installed), much like many of the recession ghost towns sprinkled throughout the United States following the 2008 financial meltdown. There are lot of other interesting gets, like seeing that much of the area that is now St. Paul/Miami Woods was farm land at the time. But this post is about Lincoln Tavern.

To make some sense of the aerial photo in terms of seeing what the Lincoln Tavern looked like, I enlarged and cut out the local portion, wrote in street names and edited in a pointer to the tavern. Here it is.

Note how large the Lincoln Tavern was. The building, plus the ample frontage off of Dempster, took up half the block. On the northeast corner of the same block is the building that was the Dempster Inn and then the Stumble Inn during the Depression, which later became Val's Tavern. Although Poehlmann Bros. bankrupt florist business had been long shuttered, greenhouses remained at that time in the area north of Dempster and west of the Lincoln Tavern, where Park View School and Harrer Park are located today.

Note that on the northwest corner of Austin and Dempster, you can still see the footprint of The Dells back in the woods, though it is hard to say how much of the building remained. Note also, across the street, on the northeast corner of Austin and Dempster, is Murphy's steakhouse, which was in the frame white building there, very much the same through the 1950s and 1960s, when I grew up in Morton Grove. One of the buildings across from Murphy's on the block southeast of the Austin and Dempster intersection housed Club Rendezvous, location of the deadly fire on March 24, 1935.

Morton Grove Before the Baby Boom: Life and Times at the Lincoln Tavern

The Lincoln Tavern is the third establishment we feature in this Morton Grove roadhouse series.

I grew up in Morton Grove in the 1950s and 1960s in a house on the corner Austin Avenue and Davis Street. From kindergarten through eighth grade, I attended Park View school. 

Most school days in seventh and eighth grade, I participated in after school intramural sports, and then detoured on the way home. I cut across Harrer Park or walked up Moody Street to Dempster Street, turning east on Dempster down to Austin. Along the way I sometimes stopped for a treat at Yadron's Deli (candy or a chocolate milk), Jean's Bakery (a chocolate eclair) or at the counter of a small diner style restaurant (a chocolate milkshake) whose name I have lost in the fog of time. That was my self indulgence. All the rest of the money I made caddying went into the bank for eventually funding college and starting a lifelong habit of saving and investing.

I did not understand it at the time, but my homeward route looped along Morton Grove's prohibition era roadhouse row. 

Previously we recounted the drama and contretemps surrounding fights for control of  the Lincoln Tavern's near neighbor, The Dells. We re-published contemporary reports on the deadly fire that consumed Club Rendezvous, one block further up Dempster Street. Now we feature the Lincoln Tavern. The Lincoln Tavern was notable among Morton Grove roadhouses for its huge capacity, sultry entertainment and the prominent performers who were featured therein. 

Introducing The Lincoln Tavern.  

Location, location and location were behind it. The roadhouse district along Dempster Street in Morton Grove was near enough to the Chicago Loop and the ritzy residences on the Gold Coast and up to the north shore suburbs to be accessible, but sufficiently distant and isolated to have an air of mystery and country cachet. Tavern offerings were illicit. Local and county police were complicit.

Morton Grove Mapped Through Time

I love maps. I love studying them, learning from them and comparing one to another. I know that I can get from here to there these days using my smart phone or GPS. But still, when I'm planning a trip, I stop at the local AAA office and gather up the relevant foldout regional, state and local maps. Looking at a big foldout map gives a sense of perspective and space that doesn't jump out from a tiny cell phone screen or my notebook computer. The foldouts are dogeared by the time we finish a trip, my kids shaking their heads all the way, wondering why I would use the maps at all.

The United States Geological Survey (USGS) recently came out with a spiffy new product that publishes PDF format topographical maps of various locations in the United States through much of the 20th century. The maps show streets, depict the topography, and show human-made features individually or represent them in densely developed areas by a color shading scheme.

There are ten different Morton Grove maps in the series, mostly post WW II. I downloaded maps from 1900, 1929, 1953 and 1963, and cropped down to the respective areas that encompass Morton Grove. These will appear in images below. But first, we need to look at a couple of baselines to get some perspective. Here is a high level schematic showing Morton Grove's borders today.

Morton Grove modern borders.

Golf Road is the northern Morton Grove border, plus there is a narrow commercial strip north of Golf Road, between Waukegan Road and Harlem Avenue. Washington Road is Morton Grove's western border south of Golf Road down to Dempster Street, except for the final few blocks where the border kinks in to Ozark Avenue. South of Dempster the western border lies just East of National Avenue, until it turns east to follow generally Caldwell Avenue. Morton Grove's southern border runs along Oakton Street and an industrial/commercial area just south of Oakton between the river and the tracks. The south border moves a couple blocks further south to Mulford Street starting at Gross Point Road. Starting at Mulford and moving up, Morton Grove's east border is Long Ave, until it turns towards and then along the Edens Expressway starting just south of Lincoln. North of Dempster, the eastern border is Linder Avenue.

When I was a kid, we referred to everything west of the river as the west side. The part of town east of the river and north of Dempster we called the north side. The area south of Dempster and east of the river, which was where Morton Grove was originally settled, we called the south side. East side was not in our lexicon. I will maintain that terminology in the following discussion.

Morton Grove, Illinois, 2013 land use map.

To give a current reference point, I looked at the above 2013 land use map published by a village planning consultant. Single family residential is white, multi-family residential is orange, commercial is scarlet, industrial is mauve, institutional (schools, churches and municipal) is blue, open space (parks and forest preserve) is green and vacant is light blue. 

Note there are very few light blue blots. For most practical purposes, Morton Grove is fully developed. 


In contrast, in 1900 there were only about 100 buildings (black dots below) in all of what encompasses Morton Grove today.

USGS 1900 Morton Grove topographic map.

Bathgate Meets Morton Grove

You can take the farmer out of the farm, but you can't take the farm out of a farmer. 

The following photo is classic for both our On the Road to Bathgate and our Morton Grove series. Leading the wagon is my mother, Evelyn Foster. Trailing is my father, George W. Foster, posing (more or less) as a hayseed farmer. In between is Rilley (son of) the Pig. The picture was taken at the corner of Austin Avenue and Dempster Street in Morton Grove, Illinois, the very same intersection where the notorious The Dells roadhouse was once located.

It is the annual Morton Grove Days parade, circa 1965. My dad served on the board of Morton Grove Days, a community carnival and fair which raised considerable sums that helped to support civic ventures, including closest to my dad's heart, fields for Little League baseball. A chip off his father I. J. Foster's block, my dad always loved a fair and was active in promoting the same.

One year, dad put his signature on Morton Grove Days by introducing an event from his youth in rural North Dakota -- a greased pig wrestling contest.  Dad found a pig farmer out by Gurnee who was willing to lend one of his swine. They named the pig Riley. 

Morton Grove Days has long
supported civic investments. This
August 4, 1950 article in the Daily
Herald references the purchase of and
improvements for Harrer Park.

As the sun went down on the carnival midway, and sufficient beer garden libations had been consumed to infuse wrestling bravado, Riley was lathered in lard and released in a muddy pen. With hundreds crowded around, fair goers were challenged to wrestle Riley to the ground. The pig, however, was bigger, stronger, faster and more agile (probably smarter too) than the he-men he faced. The would be wrestlers ended up with nothing more than fistfuls of lard and a profile caked head to toe in mud. They never had a chance. It was hilarious seeing them slide into, slither and wallow in the muck.

Sure enough, the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (do-gooders as my father called them) filed a complaint. After consultation with his management team, Riley submitted an oped piece for publication in the local weekly newspaper, the Morton Grove Champion. 

The pig said he was living the life of Riley. When Riley returned to the farm his new found fame dictated wearing sunglasses to deflect excessive public attention. By virtue of his Morton Grove Days performance, Riley became the most popular pig in the pen. He could not help but notice that when he was away from the farm, a number of his brethren had gone to bacon. Riley thanked the Morton Grove Days Committee for giving him the opportunity to defer the same fate.

The next year, the greased pig was christened Rilley, with a double "l." My dad claimed Rilley was son of Riley, but anyone who knows anything about how pigs are raised, knows that production pigs are relieved of the ability to sire young ones at a very tender age. A little hyperbole never hurt anyone.

A big thank you to the childhood chum who sent me the parade photo on Facebook!

Caddying for the Cubs

Looking across North Branch of the Chicago River to
the 17th green at Glen View Club.

Glen View Club in Golf, Illinois, where I caddied from the ages of 10 to 18 was and is a private country club. Its membership during my tenure from 1964 through 1972 was mostly corporate and conservative, old money being much preferred over the nouveau riche. Glen View was the sort of place that invited you to apply for membership. You did not approach it.

With a fixed and stable membership, it was pretty much the same lineup that showed up to play golf time after time. Ladies day was Tuesday mornings. Doctors played Wednesday afternoons. Saturday mornings and Sundays before 11:00 am were reserved for men. Husbands and wives and some cobbled together pairs, played couples golf, teeing off from 11:00 am on Sundays into the late afternoon. Many of the caddies had regular loops, and there were regular groups of players.  

If there was to be anything new and exciting it was generally in the way of guests and so it was for me one Monday morning in the late 1960s or early 1970s. The club pro, Ed Oldfield Sr., hosted a foursome of Chicago Cubs, on a rare major league baseball midsummer off day, to play as his guests. The foursome was made up of Ron Santo, Glenn Beckert, Kenny Holtzman and Peanuts Lowery.

Morton Grove Before the Baby Boom: The Complete Story of The Dells

Canopy over The Dells front entrance, 1934.

Welcome to the third in our ongoing Morton Grove roadhouse series. This jam-packed post documents the story and the times of  the establishment known as The Dells.

It was originally the home of the Huscher family before it was converted into a "swanky roadhouse." During the late 1920s and early 1930s, The Dells eclipsed its competition. Located at the northwest corner of Austin and Dempster, it became the best known and most patronized of the roadhouses in my hometown of Morton Grove, Illinois. The Dells offered live music and entertainment, dancing, fine food, comfort and ambiance. 

The Dells was an incredibly popular and successful commercial enterprise. It boasted a spacious dance floor, broadcast its music performances over the radio airwaves, and, because it was not subjected to the musician union local controls within the city, freely imported nationally renowned musicians and entertainers. The Dells had tasty cuisine -- steak, poultry, seafood and even frogs legs -- in a well appointed setting on a tranquil wooded lot.

There was more, of course, because The Dells' prosperous run was concurrent, not the least bit coincidentally, with the Volstead Act and prohibition. Additional attractions included beer, liquor and gambling and gangland wars over the profits of the same. The Dells was said to be owned or controlled by Al Capone and his gang. It is commonly referred to as the most notorious of the Morton Grove roadhouses.

Morton Grove Before the Baby Boom: Club Rendezvous Goes Up In Smoke

Club Rendezvous before the fire.

While The Dells was the renowned crown jewel of the clubs in Morton Grove during the roadhouse era, Club Rendezvous was part of the supporting cast. Located east of The Dells, on the south side of Dempster, towards Marmora and Menard Avenues, Club Rendezvous was built in a converted, classic Chicago-style brick bungalow, with a frame addition slapped on to the front. 

It was an intimate setting, with limited ingress and egress, which offered drinking, dancing and dining, and held out for revelers the possibility of whatever else its name implied. The club was frequented by Northwestern University students who drove four miles west out Dempster to escape the dry environs of Evanston for raucous and celebratory nights out. There was one way in and one way out.

Our first post in this Morton Grove roadhouse series, about The Dells, involved a fire and arson and no lives lost. In this post, as will be the sadly be the case in other roadhouse stories, there were victims.  

During Prohibition, there developed north and northwest of Chicago an area known as the roadhouse district.

The center of this district is the small village of Morton Grove, population 1,974. Within its confines exist or existed most of the larger roadhouses, as well as innumerable small “neighborhood” drinking spots for the working man. The Club Rendezvous, on Dempster street east of Austin avenue, was one of the better known small dance and drink places. Chicago Tribune, March 26, 1935.

Mr. and Mrs. Elmer (Al and Rose) Cowdrey were the Club Rendezvous proprietors. On the surface it seemed that they lived a rather normal and mundane life. The Mrs. entertained her friends for tea or its substantial equivalent.

The Daily Herald, May 5, 1933.

Along the way, nevertheless, the couple's home had suffered serious fire damage. The home was repaired and the Cowdrey family moved back in to resume their tranquil domestic life.

The Daily Herald, November 10, 1933

But digging beneath the veneer of normality, the goings on at the Cowdrey residence raised more than a few questions.

Morton Grove: Before the Baby Boom

A very popular post on this blog, Growing Up in Morton Grove, has received frequent attention from others who grew up in the northern Chicago suburb in the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s. 

I grew up in a cape cod style house at the corner of Austin Avenue and Davis Street. Two and one-half blocks down the street was a small strip mall, where the Rexall Drug Store, a National Tea grocery store, Dahm's department store, Jean's Bakery, a Ben Franklin 5 & 10 and a dry cleaner were located. Across the parking lot from the grocery store was a record store and a diner-like restaurant. There were some medical offices in back. The stores were tiny by today's modern scale, but they were my world as a child.

One of my favorite things growing up was stopping in at the bakery for a scrumptious chocolate eclair -- the best ever, yummy. My mother would send me to buy three large butter crust bread loaves, sliced, at the bakery. I can still smell the fresh aroma to this day. I can still smell the ground coffee at the rear of the National Tea. The five and dime was a source of a piece of candy or a play thing now and again. My dad had his work shirts washed and starched at the cleaners. The record store was where we bought our first Beatle's 45s. I saved nickels to buy packets of baseball cards, stale gum included, at the drug store. 

Morton Grove map of 1930s roadhouses.

This serene scene of youthful innocence had not always been so, however. The exact northwest corner of Dempster Street  and Austin Avenue in Morton Grove, Illinois where the shopping center was located, had once been home to a roadhouse, speakeasy and gangland haunt known as The Dells. Think Al Capone, his mobster contemporaries, cronies and henchmen and you got it. From time to time, I'll be writing on The Dells and others of the goings on during the 1920s and 30s up and down Dempster Street and south down to Lincoln Avenue.  

For this first post, let's whet our appetite by reprising a report on the The Dells' ignominious end.

Freeport Journal Standard, October.8 1934

CHICAGO MACHINE GUNNERS SET FIRE TO ROADHOUSE

-------------

NEIGHBORING FIRE DEPARTMENTS

LEND THEIR AID IN VAIN

-------------

Chicago, Oct. 8.--(AP)--Four men, armed with sub-machine guns today kidnapped the watchman at the Dells roadhouse in suburban Morton Grove, spread gasoline throughout the main floor and set fire to the place. Firemen form surrounding suburbs were unable to check the flames. 

The Dells for many years was one of Chicago's most widely known roadhouses. It was from the Dells that John Factor, wealthy speculator, was kidnapped. Roger Touhy and several members of his gang are now serving terms in the state prison at Joliet for the kidnapping. The resort was closed early this summer when State's Attorney Thomas J. Courtney ordered its liquor license held up. 

Paul Ott, watchman, told police that the four men drove up to the roadhouse in an automobile, forced their way in and made him a prisoner. Although he was bound and blindfolded, Ott said he could tell from their conversation that the men covered the floors with gasoline. 

The "torches" then drove him about a mile to Lincoln avenue, Morton Grove, and then threw him from the car, Ott said. 

Despite the efforts of fire departments from Evanston, Morton Grove, Niles Center, Park Ridge, Glenview and Northbrook, the roadhouse, valued at $75,000, was destroyed.

There are many stories to be told. Let the telling begin.

Five of the boys had the presence of mind to pose for this photo as The Dells burns to the ground, October 7, 1934.