 |
| The Chicago River. |
Sunday, March 5, 2017
Friday, March 3, 2017
Lost Towns of Illinois - Half Way, Illinois & Halfway, Illinois
There were two villages named Halfway, Illinois, both being in Williamson County, at different times and at different locations.
THE FIRST HALFWAY, ILLINOIS: 1894-1911
Half Way, Illinois was an unincorporated settlement in northeastern Williamson County, Illinois located about halfway between Marion and Corinth, Illinois.
Joseph Williams owned a general store in section 25 of Lake Creek Township, just a mile east from the spot where Vancleve Hendrickson opened the Oak Hill post office in his home on his farm (on the west township line in section 30 of Corinth Township) on October 30, 1871 and became its postmaster. James Hearn bought the farm and became the new postmaster on November 11, 1872. The post office was closed on December 15, 1876 and the Oak Hill community was without a post office for 18 years.
Williams’ store was across the road from his farmhouse. Williams opened a post office in his store on February 5, 1895 and named it Half Way.
In 1899, Williams sold his store to James Chadwell, the grandson of the early Preacher at the Corinth Zion Methodist Episcopal Church, and he became the postmaster on May 20, 1899. Chadwell sold to the Riggs brothers, Albert and Nicholas. Albert became postmaster on June 14, 1905. Williams sold his store to his grandson, Reverend James Chadwell and he became the postmaster on May 20, 1906. Chadwell sold to Riggs Brothers, Albert and Nicholis, and Albert became postmaster June 14, 1905.
The new town of Pittsburg R.F.D. Illinois[1], began in 1905 and Albert Riggs became its first postmaster on December 8, 1906. Nicholis Riggs became the postmaster of Half Way, the same day, and remained in that position until the post office was closed December 15, 1911.
THE SECOND HALFWAY ILLINOIS: 1916-1927
Nicknamed: Little Juarez
Halfway was a rough and very wet unincorporated settlement nicknamed "Little Juarez" in Williamson County, Illinois. The nickname "Little Juarez" came about from the general lawlessness, shootings and proliferation of gambling and booze, even during Prohibition.
One of the earliest references to the community dates to September 1916 when the circuit judge, D. T. Hartwell, issued an injunction against 31 saloons and clubs in nearby Herrin restraining them from "selling intoxicating liquors of any kind." The sheriff and his deputy (and future prohibition era Sheriff) George Galligan served the court injunctions on establishments on the 9th. A few days later one of the Marion newspapers noted that "Herrin is again dry," and that "now Energy and Halfway will become points of interest to Herrin tourists."
Following the onslaught of nationwide prohibition in 1920, Halfway became an even bigger destination with saloons (speakeasies) on just about all corners. Charlie Birger, an area bootlegger and gangster became the best known of the local operators. The speakeasy's became targets of Klan raids in 1923 and early 1924, followed by two targeted fires which eventually destroyed all of the buildings but Birger's.
On October 7, 1924, Birger's speakeasy burned at Halfway. This was one of the buildings which had been closed for a year under a government injunction and was where one room had been used for the sale of refreshments contrary to the law while the other had been prepared for a dance hall although it had not been opened when the injunction went into effect. At that time it was reported that it was controlled by Charlie Birger. The origin of the fire is unknown. The building was of frame and it and all its contents were a total loss.
In June 1925, a reporter described what was left. "For nearly a year, the lone building (Birger's joint) stood alone on the state concrete highway but nothing now remains but weeds, charred wood and broken bottles." Before the fires and the raids, "saloons, dance floors, restaurants and sleeping rooms made up the settlement."
Halfway's demise happened when the Coal Belt Electric Train Line experienced decreasing passengers. It was a commuter electric rail system that tied, Johnston City, Herrin, Carterville, Fordville (Energy) Halfway (Little Jureaz) Spillertown, and Marion via the commuter rail system. This train service cease operations in 1927.
Half Way, Illinois was an unincorporated settlement in northeastern Williamson County, Illinois located about halfway between Marion and Corinth, Illinois.
Joseph Williams owned a general store in section 25 of Lake Creek Township, just a mile east from the spot where Vancleve Hendrickson opened the Oak Hill post office in his home on his farm (on the west township line in section 30 of Corinth Township) on October 30, 1871 and became its postmaster. James Hearn bought the farm and became the new postmaster on November 11, 1872. The post office was closed on December 15, 1876 and the Oak Hill community was without a post office for 18 years.
Williams’ store was across the road from his farmhouse. Williams opened a post office in his store on February 5, 1895 and named it Half Way.
 |
| Joseph H. Williams Dry Goods and Groceries. |
The new town of Pittsburg R.F.D. Illinois[1], began in 1905 and Albert Riggs became its first postmaster on December 8, 1906. Nicholis Riggs became the postmaster of Half Way, the same day, and remained in that position until the post office was closed December 15, 1911.
THE SECOND HALFWAY ILLINOIS: 1916-1927
Nicknamed: Little Juarez
Halfway was a rough and very wet unincorporated settlement nicknamed "Little Juarez" in Williamson County, Illinois. The nickname "Little Juarez" came about from the general lawlessness, shootings and proliferation of gambling and booze, even during Prohibition.
One of the earliest references to the community dates to September 1916 when the circuit judge, D. T. Hartwell, issued an injunction against 31 saloons and clubs in nearby Herrin restraining them from "selling intoxicating liquors of any kind." The sheriff and his deputy (and future prohibition era Sheriff) George Galligan served the court injunctions on establishments on the 9th. A few days later one of the Marion newspapers noted that "Herrin is again dry," and that "now Energy and Halfway will become points of interest to Herrin tourists."
On October 7, 1924, Birger's speakeasy burned at Halfway. This was one of the buildings which had been closed for a year under a government injunction and was where one room had been used for the sale of refreshments contrary to the law while the other had been prepared for a dance hall although it had not been opened when the injunction went into effect. At that time it was reported that it was controlled by Charlie Birger. The origin of the fire is unknown. The building was of frame and it and all its contents were a total loss.
In June 1925, a reporter described what was left. "For nearly a year, the lone building (Birger's joint) stood alone on the state concrete highway but nothing now remains but weeds, charred wood and broken bottles." Before the fires and the raids, "saloons, dance floors, restaurants and sleeping rooms made up the settlement."
Halfway's demise happened when the Coal Belt Electric Train Line experienced decreasing passengers. It was a commuter electric rail system that tied, Johnston City, Herrin, Carterville, Fordville (Energy) Halfway (Little Jureaz) Spillertown, and Marion via the commuter rail system. This train service cease operations in 1927.
Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.
[1] Rural Free Delivery (RFD) is a service which began in the United States in the late 19th century, to deliver mail directly to rural farm families. Prior to RFD, individuals living in more remote homesteads had to pick up mail themselves at sometimes distant post offices or pay private carriers for delivery.
Special thanks to David W. Jent's, Great-Great Grandson of J.H. Williams, founding Postmaster of Halfway #1, for location corrections and additional historical details.
[1] Rural Free Delivery (RFD) is a service which began in the United States in the late 19th century, to deliver mail directly to rural farm families. Prior to RFD, individuals living in more remote homesteads had to pick up mail themselves at sometimes distant post offices or pay private carriers for delivery.
Special thanks to David W. Jent's, Great-Great Grandson of J.H. Williams, founding Postmaster of Halfway #1, for location corrections and additional historical details.
Thursday, March 2, 2017
Lost Communities of Chicago - Mopetown
Mopetown was a tiny neighborhood tucked in between the Bridgeport and McKinley Park neighborhoods. Mopetown's borders were from Ashland to Hoyne Avenues and from 31st Street to 33rd Street.
Mopetown grew up as a collection of cottages inside a triangle surrounded by the tracks of the Santa Fe and the Chicago and Alton railroad lines.
The residents were a mix of Irish, German, Italian, Polish, English and Bohemian. The name Mopetown came from a German family name that somehow was translated to "Mope."
Mopetown was one of the last places in the city to get paved streets and sidewalks. The neighborhood was impossible to find. Pizza delivery? Forget it! Mopetown was isolated. Wolcott was the only street that gained access to the neighborhood.
The death blow to Mopetown came from the Stevenson Expressway (I-55) which wiped out much of it. The City of Chicago condemned the houses, the families moved away, they tore the houses down, leveled the neighborhood and built the expressway. After the expressway was built, there were six houses left. Then there were four. Then there were two.
"I remember Mopetown with good memories, oh, yes, I do," said Edith Vitalo, a South Sider who lived there on 31st Place as a child. "It was a desolate area out there, past Archer by the tracks, with all prairie around it. We were all as poor as church mice and everyone knew everybody else. Nobody had nothing, so there were no jealousies. We all shared what we had."
"During the tough times, during the Depression and Prohibition, a lot of them made ends meet by making booze -- white lightning," said Hopkins' wife, Janet. Her uncle, Dennis Starr, a local Republican organizer, held political meetings in the back of Funk's Pool Hall and was called 'The Mayor of Mopetown.'
"My family was quite poor then when we'd go down to Mopetown to see Uncle Dennis and Aunt Ellie Starr," Janet Hopkins said. "You could always get something to eat down there. I remember my Aunt Ellie would be standing in the kitchen of her small cottage over a black fire-burning stove. She'd be wearing her apron and Uncle Dennis' shoes, and there'd be two big pots cooking on the stove. One was homemade soup and one was homemade white lightning. The houses that sold the hooch down there were called 'blind pigs.' Uncle Dennis ran one, and you never knew who'd you meet in Uncle Dennis' house down in Mopetown."
"It was an easy place to raise kids and a great little place to live," said Mary Wilkens, whose tidy house belies the expressway traffic that rumbles past her front door. "My windows were always open, my door was always open and the kids could sleep outside on the porch. Everyone had big families, everyone was poor and everyone watched out for each other."
"No one in Mopetown went hungry or went cold during the tough times," Mary Wilkens said. "We all walked the track," she said, referring to Mopetowners' habit of going over to the railroad tracks and getting coal that fell off the railroad cars [to heat their homes]. They also would go over to the railroad yard where the train employees habitually threw out sacks of fruit and vegetables because there would be some spoilage.
Russell Wilkens and his wife, Mary -- the last family -- in the last house, in Mopetown has finally moved out in 1990. The Wilken's family had to. One side of their simple brick-frame home at 1845 West 31st Place simply crumbled and collapsed. The old place couldn't remain standing any longer.
Understandably, Mary Wilkens, 71, the last housewife remaining in Mopetown, left with tears in her eyes. "We've lived here in Mopetown for 60 years," she said. "I loved it down there. We had all sorts of privacy. We were the hidden neighborhood. The kids could run free, you could move and breathe and never lock a door. It was paradise even though nobody was rich. But it's over now. Mopetown has disappeared into a dream and I'm still alive. I'm lost not living down here anymore."
So that's it for Mopetown. It doesn't exist anymore... except in historical stories like this one.
Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.
The residents were a mix of Irish, German, Italian, Polish, English and Bohemian. The name Mopetown came from a German family name that somehow was translated to "Mope."
Mopetown was one of the last places in the city to get paved streets and sidewalks. The neighborhood was impossible to find. Pizza delivery? Forget it! Mopetown was isolated. Wolcott was the only street that gained access to the neighborhood.
 |
| No one ever worried about their electric bill because they never got one. Just about everyone had a 'jumper,' an illegal tap to the utility pole. |
"I remember Mopetown with good memories, oh, yes, I do," said Edith Vitalo, a South Sider who lived there on 31st Place as a child. "It was a desolate area out there, past Archer by the tracks, with all prairie around it. We were all as poor as church mice and everyone knew everybody else. Nobody had nothing, so there were no jealousies. We all shared what we had."
"During the tough times, during the Depression and Prohibition, a lot of them made ends meet by making booze -- white lightning," said Hopkins' wife, Janet. Her uncle, Dennis Starr, a local Republican organizer, held political meetings in the back of Funk's Pool Hall and was called 'The Mayor of Mopetown.'
"My family was quite poor then when we'd go down to Mopetown to see Uncle Dennis and Aunt Ellie Starr," Janet Hopkins said. "You could always get something to eat down there. I remember my Aunt Ellie would be standing in the kitchen of her small cottage over a black fire-burning stove. She'd be wearing her apron and Uncle Dennis' shoes, and there'd be two big pots cooking on the stove. One was homemade soup and one was homemade white lightning. The houses that sold the hooch down there were called 'blind pigs.' Uncle Dennis ran one, and you never knew who'd you meet in Uncle Dennis' house down in Mopetown."
"It was an easy place to raise kids and a great little place to live," said Mary Wilkens, whose tidy house belies the expressway traffic that rumbles past her front door. "My windows were always open, my door was always open and the kids could sleep outside on the porch. Everyone had big families, everyone was poor and everyone watched out for each other."
Understandably, Mary Wilkens, 71, the last housewife remaining in Mopetown, left with tears in her eyes. "We've lived here in Mopetown for 60 years," she said. "I loved it down there. We had all sorts of privacy. We were the hidden neighborhood. The kids could run free, you could move and breathe and never lock a door. It was paradise even though nobody was rich. But it's over now. Mopetown has disappeared into a dream and I'm still alive. I'm lost not living down here anymore."
So that's it for Mopetown. It doesn't exist anymore... except in historical stories like this one.
Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.
Tuesday, February 28, 2017
Frankenstein's Bar, 2235 West Howard Street, Chicago, Illinois.
Frankenstein Lunch Lab & Boogie Castle was a few doors west of the Fish Keg.
I went there most Thursday nights in 1979-80. I got in even though the legal drinking age for beer and wine in Illinois had just changed from 21 years old to 19 years old.
I'd often stop at the Fish Keg, pick up a pound of fried shrimp, fried perch or some other delicious fresh fried fish, 1/2 order of French fries and go into Frankenstein's, sit down at a table or the bar and order a beer with dinner. YUMMY!
They had a nice-sized dance floor, a pinball machine, and played good music.
I'd often stop at the Fish Keg, pick up a pound of fried shrimp, fried perch or some other delicious fresh fried fish, 1/2 order of French fries and go into Frankenstein's, sit down at a table or the bar and order a beer with dinner. YUMMY!
They had a nice-sized dance floor, a pinball machine, and played good music.
Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.
"The Magic Door" TV Show, a part of Chicagolands Sunday Morning Programming. (1962–1982)
 |
| Tiny Tov and his Acorn House in Torahville. |
 |
| Temmie Gilbert |
While it's difficult to pinpoint a single "creator" for "The Magic Door," the combined efforts of Irv Kaplan, Henry Mamet, Mindy Soble, Alan Secher, the Chicago Board of Rabbis, and WBBM-TV all contributed to its success and lasting impact.
There were two main theme songs for the Magic Door. The first was based on an Israeli Children's song, "A Room Zoom Zoom."
Tiny Tov would travel back to biblical times in the series' early days by riding on his Magic Feather. Tiny would say, "Aleph bet, gimel hay, magic feather, move away!" Later on, the program evolved into moral topics. A "Hebrew Word of the Day" would be related to whatever values were taught. Each week, Tiny would educate children on Jewish history, sharing stories from the Torah and discussing Jewish tradition. Every episode would include a brief Hebrew lesson, stepping through the Aleph-Bet (Hebrew alphabet).
The character of Tiny Tov was created by Irv Kaplan, who later moved to Israel and was instrumental in creating Israeli Public and Educational Television. Only one Tina Tova was played by Fran (Uditsky) Moss.
There were three Tiny Tovs in all. From 1970, Tiny Tov was portrayed by Emmy-nominated actor Jerry (Jerome) Loeb until he moved to California in 1973. The second Tiny Tov was played by Charles Gerber, who also created the song lyrics. The third Tiny Tov was played by (Rabbi) Joe Black.
Copyright © 2017, Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D. All rights reserved.
"Ah room zoom zoom, ah room zoom zoom, gily gily gily gily gily a sa sa. Come through the Magic Door with me, just say these words and wondrous things you'll see."The second theme song was written by Charles Gerber and was set to a melody from Beethoven's "Pastorale" Symphony No. 6:
"Open, come open the Magic Door with me, with your imagination there's so much we can see. There is a doorway that leads to a place. I'll find my way by the smile on your face."Set in "Torahville," the main characters of the series included "Tiny Tov" (a character "reduced" to appear as a kind of miniature elf) and his cousin "Tina Tova." Tiny lived in a nicely decorated house made of an acorn; the entrance was called "The Magic Door."
Before Tiny would enter his dwelling, he would sing "A Room Zoom Zoom." Go ahead, sing it loud and proud!
In addition to Tiny and Tina, there were other puppet characters, including Boobie Beaver, Icky Witch, Rabbi and Mrs. Moreh, Deedee, Max the Mailbox, Rumplemyer Dragon, Bunny Rabbit, Buddy, Worthington Warlock, Scrunch, and human characters also participated. All of the characters were Jewish except Reverend Raymond from nearby Chapeltown.
The character of Tiny Tov was created by Irv Kaplan, who later moved to Israel and was instrumental in creating Israeli Public and Educational Television. Only one Tina Tova was played by Fran (Uditsky) Moss.
There were three Tiny Tovs in all. From 1970, Tiny Tov was portrayed by Emmy-nominated actor Jerry (Jerome) Loeb until he moved to California in 1973. The second Tiny Tov was played by Charles Gerber, who also created the song lyrics. The third Tiny Tov was played by (Rabbi) Joe Black.
The Magic Door Theme Song
WBBM TV The Magic Door 25th Anniversary Show.
Rabbi Joe Black as Tiny Tov on "The Magic Door." Circa 1979
[runtime 00:08:08]
I received an email on May 11, 2019, from Marty Zitlin, co-producer of The Magic Door show from 1977 to 1981. He included this picture of their 1980-81 Chicago Area Television Emmy Award for The Magic Door Series.
Copyright © 2017, Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D. All rights reserved.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)