Washington Heights Postal Station, Chicago, Illinois, 1895.

Washington Heights Postal Station, Chicago, Illinois, 1895.

In 1894, the delivery area of the Chicago Post Office almost doubled with Chicago annexing many suburbs. This provided free home delivery to nearly 97% of the city's inhabitants when 59 independent Post Offices "now within the City of Chicago boundaries" were consolidated within the Chicago Post Office.

Most of the discontinued Post Offices, like Washington Heights, were converted to stations of the Chicago Post Office which provided full service to customers but were administratively subordinate to the Chicago Post Office a technicality which allowed the stations’ customers to receive free home delivery of mail. 

The Founding of Orangeville, Illinois.

In the days of the settlement of the West, many towns were named for some prominent settler or land owner. But in the case of the town of Orangeville, nobody knows for sure.

It is speculated that some of the early Pennsylvanians who arrived in that vicinity might have come from Orangeville, Pennsylvania. The town’s early history is intriguing nonetheless. Let's explore it as it is depicted in the “History of Stephenson County 1970,” a local publication in keeping with the national bicentennial observance.

In the Beginning
In 1838, three years after the founding of Freeport, Illinois, John Curtis built a small dam on Richland Creek and constructed a grist mill, a sawmill, and a log cabin. However Curtis died in the early 1840s leaving his efforts idle.  However, in 1846, John Bower purchased the land, had it surveyed and platted a town on the east side of the creek.

Not so strangely he named it Bowersville and brought wagon loads of lumber from Galena and Chicago to entice settlers to the village carrying his name. It is believed that the first ones to accept his invitation were Daniel Duck, origin unknown, and Daniel Riem, who came from Pennsylvania by horse and wagon with only $3 to his name. It is said he sold one of his horses for $50 to buy the land and his wagon for enough to fence the land in.The history tells us his family lived the first year in a “shanty with a leaky roof.”

The second year a neighbor gave him a log cabin which he tore down and rebuilt on his farm. By the beginning of the third year, he had finished a good house and converted the log cabin into his cabinet-making shop.

A larger and better mill, three and a half stories high, was built in 1849 at the corner of High and Mill streets. With its three-run of buhrs, it could grind 200 bushels of grain a day. That was true if Richland Creek behaved itself and did not flood the town as was known to happen in that vicinity.

The aforementioned John Bower built the first hotel. The Frink & Walker’s General Stage Coach came to Bowersville once a week at first and twice a week later, carrying passengers and mail. 

The Stagecoach wasn't as glamorous as the movies made them out to be.

Benjamin and James Musser built the first store in Orangeville. In 1854, a post office was established and the name of the village was somehow changed to “Orangeville.” William Wagenhals was the first postmaster.

Central House is an 1860s hotel building located in the 800-person village of Orangeville, in Stephenson County, Illinois. The building was built by Orangeville founder John Bower and operated as a hotel from its construction until the 1930s, when it was converted for use as a single family residence. The three-story building was the first commercial brick structure in downtown Orangeville. Architecturally, the building is cast in a mid-19th-century Italianate style. Central House was added to the U.S. National Register of Historic Places in 1999.

A Strange Infestation
The history tells us the years 1859 to 1861 were known in Orangeville as the “pigeon years.” It explains that passenger pigeons roosted and had their hatching grounds at the north end of the township, “and in the mornings the roar could be heard for miles and sounded like the distant roar of a train or waterfall. When the birds left their roosts in the morning or returned at night, they were so numerous as to darken the sky so that it seemed a cloud was obscuring the sun. Sportsmen came from far away and camped to see and shoot them.”

In 1866, Charles Moore and his son, E.L. Moore, bought the mill and renamed it, not surprisingly, “Moore’s Mill.” The original mill was rebuilt in 1867. Subsequent owners over the years were men named Hefty and Legger. In 1902, Sylvester LaBorde took charge and in 1906, his brother Alva took over. C. W. Bennett bought the mill in 1907 and built a new dam, installed a gasoline engine and started the village’s first electric plant.

Becoming a Full-Fledged Village.
As soon as Orangeville became a village, things began to happen. Charles Moore was named president and William Wagenhals, George Erb, W.S. St. John and Jacob Kurtz were trustees. Soon the village government was building bridges, installing oil street lamps and in 1895, building a village hall on High Street. The waterworks was built in 1897, and a brick water tower went up in 1910.In 1911, C.W. Bennett installed 20 electric street lights for $500. These, we’re told, were turned off at 11 p.m.

The vigilant village board made a ruling in December 1886 that the Freeport-to-Monroe stage could not stop inside the village limits if it was carrying dynamite. Ironically, though, dynamite was to figure in mightily in the village’s destiny. The history tells us that while the contractor for the completion of the Illinois Central Railroad branch from Freeport to Madison, Wis., was grading the line in 1887, there was a strike which resulted in the hiring of a new gang.It so happened a careless workman who was “drying out the dynamite in an oven allowed it to catch fire and set off the caps. The resulting explosion of 200 pounds of dynamite and a half-ton of black powder stored nearby made the townspeople think there had been an earthquake.”

In 1887 when the railroad reached Orangeville, daily mail service had begun and a grain elevator, depot and stockyards were built making use of the rails. 

An Enterprising Village
James Musser and his brother Benjamin opened a general store in 1866 which the history tells us “soon became one of the largest in northern Illinois.” In 1879 James Musser added the first banking and loan business in the back of his store. Other businesses soon to appear were a drug store, shoemaker, saddle and harness making shop, plus a gunsmith who also made watches.

The large Orangeville creamery was started in 1879 by D.A. Schoch and Harrison Bolender. The cooler could hold 180,000 pounds of butter, and it took 180 tons of ice to maintain a year-round temperature of 40 degrees. The 10 employees ran machinery which churned 1,400 pounds of butter a day. When the original owners retired, they sold it to a corporation which ran it until 1915.

For a number of years, Milferd Bolender’s coin business attained wide interest and was known nationally by collectors. 

The Borden Dairy Company had a plant in Orangeville from 1917 until 1933. The quarters of that became the home of a cheese factory beginning in 1935, first by the Lakeshire Marty Co., and then after 1955, by the Lugano Cheese Co. which made pizza cheese. The factory was closed in 1968.

The first Orangeville newspaper, known as the Alert, commenced publishing in 1883, but was taken over in 1889 by The Courier. The latter was published by half-brothers, William McCall and Frederick Winter. The history tells us that McCall was the son of Brigadier General William H. McCall Sr., who served in the West during the Civil War and had “the painful duty to adjust the black caps on (Lincoln’s assassin) Booth and his accomplices before they were executed.

”William Jr. grew up in Oneco with his grandparents. His son, James E. McCall, was author and illustrator of a book he wrote about his World War II imprisonment by the Japanese.

McCall and Winter were followed on the Courier by Harry Hartzell, who sold it to Stiver Clay in 1938. The Courier soon became one of the chain of newspapers owned by Associated Publishers of Durand. For 23 years, the regathering and reporting was done by Mrs. Glen Bolender. The Courier, at the time the history was published, had become a section in the “large combined paper Scope.”

by Harriett Gustason, The Journal-Standard.
Editor Neil Gale, Ph.D. 

The Chicago River.

The Chicago River.

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.

Joseph H. Williams Dry Goods and Groceries.

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.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

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[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. 

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.

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.

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.