Latest Posts

In 2021, gymnastics was the most viewed summer Olympic sport by US audiences (Source: Statista), and chances are if you’re reading this, you’ve done a summersault or two at some point in gym class. But how did this sport first gain prominence in the United States?

In 1811, centuries after the ancient Greeks coined the term gymnastikē, which is derived from gymnazo (nude physical training), a soldier named Friedrich Ludwig Jahn created an open Turnplatz (field) in Berlin, Prussia, where clothed young men could exercise on rudimentary gymnastics equipment in the hopes that they might not suffer the same defeat the Prussian army did at the hands of Napoleon. Later known as the “Father of Gymnastics,” Jahn invented much of the equipment central to the modern sport: parallel and horizontal bars, pommel horse, rings, and balance beam.

Practitioners of Jahn’s techniques formed nationalist groups known as a Turnverein (gymnastics association) and called themselves “Turners.” These Turners were active participants in many of the German uprisings of 1848 and 1849, and when these revolutions failed, “48-ers,” or liberal-minded defectors from the German Confederation immigrated to the United States throughout the 1850s where they continued to form Turnverein wherever large populations of Germans settled.

By 1906, there were 24 different independent Turner organizations in Chicago, all sharing a dedication to incorporating physical education into school curriculums and creating ample opportunities for exercise in their own community centers, or Turnhalles (Turner Halls). In addition to gymnastics classes, the Turnverein organized sports league opportunities for young and old, from fencing and wrestling to basketball and indoor baseball, as well as offering outdoor excursions and summer family camps outside the city. Classes were typically divided by age and gender (there were even gymnastics classes targeted at businessmen), and women were allowed a greater degree of participation in gymnastics and sports classes from the 1880s onward.

Beyond athletics, Turner Halls hosted practice sessions for drama groups, musical instrument corps, and choirs, that would perform at various pageants and Turnfests (gymnastics festivals) throughout the year. These halls also served as spaces for social gatherings for the public and members alike, ranging from dances to union meetings. Most Turner Halls also had at least one bar or biergarten!

Many Turnvereins also held socialist ideals, underscored by a 1919 program from the Turnverein Lincoln, or Lincoln Turners, declaring “A Turner is a—man—or woman—of liberal and harmonious education of body and mind—a believer in life and its beauty and its perpetuation ever nobler and inspiring ideals. Should be cheerful, happy, sympathetic, charitable, tolerant, striving for the truth and justice, and for promoting the social and economic condition of all” (Source: MSS Lot Lincoln Turners Box 3, Souvenir Program for the Grand Colonial Fair and Bazaar, 1919)

The Chicago-based Turn Verein Vorwaerts (Forward Turners) established a hall on Meagher Street near Canal Street, and their original rules and restrictions for this hall convey the mixture of strict discipline, solidarity, and fun for which the Turners stood:

1. No Turners allowed to relax during classes.
2. All class members must partake in all physical activities, meets and other competition.
3. Turners must serve as bartenders and waiters at all functions.
4. Turners must attend the funerals of all fellow Turners.
5. Playing cards in the Turner Hall on Sunday is strictly forbidden.
6. Failure to abide by rules and regulations immediately punished by fines and disciplinary action.
7. Repeat offenders expelled.

(Source: History of the Turnverein Vorwaerts by William R. Meyer, p. 4)

Turners frequently touted that their gymnastics training made them especially prepared for military service, and many served in the US army during the Civil War and both World Wars. In a 1919 extract from the Chicago Daily News, Commanding Officer Neuendorf observed that in his experience, “a military education as preparation for future military service is not desirable…a skilled ‘turner,’ an ambitious athlete, a man who takes long tramps, can grasp the specialized part of military training with ease” (Source: MSS Lot Lincoln Turners Box 3, Souvenir Program for the Grand Colonial Fair and Bazaar, 1919).

It turned out that gymnastics training also led Turners to become strong competitive gymnasts, and in 1985, one of the Chicago-based Turnverein, the Lincoln Turners, proudly noted that since women’s gymnastics was introduced at the Olympics in 1928, five women from their organization had represented the United States at the competition! Though memberships declined throughout the 20th century, the Turners played a critical role not only in establishing a vast network of German community centers, but also in helping popularize the modern form of gymnastics that continues to enthrall us today.

For further reading:

• Records of the Lincoln Turners, ca. 1885-1994.
• William R. Meyer, History of the Turnverein Vorwaerts : Forward Turners of Chicago, Illinois July 24, 1867 – February 12, 1956
• Turnvereins, The Encyclopedia of Chicago
• Learn more about one of Chicago’s surviving Turner Halls, the Turner Vorwaerts Hall here.

Since January 2024, CHM curatorial volunteer Nez Castro, a senior in history at University of Illinois Chicago, has been working with CHM curator of civic engagement and social justice Elena Gonzales on a key component of an upcoming exhibition. In this blog post, he writes about working on the Digital Communities’ Scrapbook, a crowd-sourced project.

The Digital Communities’ Scrapbook is an album of crowd-sourced photographs that will appear in Aquí en Chicago, an exhibition celebrating Latine communities’ historically persistent cultural presence in Chicago. Through it, visitors can view images from CHM’s collection and those I have gathered during the last six months of exploring Chicago. They can also share their own photographs, adding their memories to a larger story of the people, places, and events that form Chicago’s Latine history. The scrapbook will show the presence and diversity of these communities using these images. A critical part of this will be built of photographs submitted by visitors and readers like you.

In late February, I met with the Rodriguez family, who own Dulcelandia, a local candy and party supply chain. I visited their 26th Street location and met with founders Eduardo and Evalia Rodriguez and their children Marco and Eve. Eduardo and Evalia proudly shared family memories through personal photographs and newspaper articles, showing the growth of their children and their business, which they started in 1995. After scanning photographs, they even gave me delicious guava juice for the road!

Eve and Marco inspecting a candy shipment from Mexico, 1995. Photograph courtesy of the Rodriguez family

Trick-or-treaters lined up in front of Dulcelandia’s Kedzie location for their first Halloween in operation, 1995. Photograph courtesy of the Rodriguez family

That same day, I visited South Chicago and met with Roman and Maria Villarreal, artists and longtime residents, at their home. Every inch of their home was covered with paintings and sculptures, their own and other’s gifts to these pillars of local Mexican art. Maria searched her archives and found photographs of Roman painting murals, which are no longer on display, friends at old tamale parties, parades, park openings, quinceañeras, baptisms, and other milestones. Maria and Roman are dedicated to creating art, providing a perspective on the community that has seen decades of growth, destruction, and evolution in Chicago. Their hospitality was humbling; they lent me a book and even got tacos for us.

Frank Corona playing the guitar at a tamale party with the late Gamaliel Ramírez in the background, 1980s. Photograph courtesy of Maria and Roman Villarreal

Roman Villarreal painting a mural at the headquarters of the now-defunct Mexican Community Committee of South Chicago, 1980s. Photograph courtesy of Maria and Roman Villarreal

A few weeks later, the Kichwa Community of Chicago enriched the scrapbook with Ecuadorian and Indigenous perspectives. Being of Bolivian and Mexican heritage, I enjoyed learning about familiar ideas and Indigenous practices that I had heard of but knew little about. Both countries have Kichwa/Quechua speakers and were once part of the Tawantinsuyu (Inca Empire). Inti Raymi, the festival for the sun god, Inti, interested me the most. Growing up, I had vague ideas about this festival, knowing the name and some connection to the sun god. It felt was fulfilling to learn about how people dressed as Inti, the festival’s importance, and the water rituals attached to it. After this meeting, I felt more connected to my Bolivian roots and hope to help others feel the same through the Scrapbook.

Members of the Kichwa Community of Chicago dressed in traditional costumes and clothing for Inti Raymi, 2015. Photograph courtesy of the Kichwa Community of Chicago

Working on the Digital Communities’ Scrapbook has been an exciting opportunity to highlight the diversity of Latine Chicago. So far, I have traveled 600+ miles within Chicago, speaking to business owners, politicians, artists, nonprofit workers, and storefront employees. Through this effort, I have borrowed 142 images in addition to those already in the CHM collection. You can help us build this project by sending us your images (versión en español) adding to Chicago’s Latine history.

CHICAGO (July 19, 2024) – A historic letter, penned in 1898 by famed Potawatomi leader Simon Pokagon, has been donated to the Chicago History Museum by trustee John Low. The letter is important because it may shed light on Pokagon’s literary contributions, including whether he was the original author of the acclaimed book “Queen of the Woods.”.

In addition to the donation of the letter, Low and his wife, Barbara, were recognized at a luncheon hosted by Chicago History Museum president & CEO Donald Lassere for their recent gift to the Museum of $50,000 from the Joseph N. & Rosemary E. Low Foundation. The gift was made in memory of John Low’s mentor, the late Raymond D. Fogelson, renowned ethnohistorian and anthropology professor at the University of Chicago.

Museum president Lassere thanked trustee Low and his family for the contributions. “We are grateful to John and his family for this generous donation to the Museum and honored that John chose to have the Chicago History Museum be the new home for this historic letter—a document that is a part of our local history,” Lassere noted. “This letter will be available to current and future descendants of the Pokagon Potawatomi people—and others who want to learn more about the first inhabitants of Chicago and the Great Lakes region.”

The letter was presented to the Museum by Low, author, historian and professor at The Ohio State University. Low is also a citizen of the Pokagon Band of the Potawatomi nation, and his research on the tribe’s history led him to purchase the letter after his friend and fellow tribe member Mike Winchester spotted it listed in an online auction. “It is not often that you find an historic source-document like this come for sale,” Low said. “This letter was handwritten by Simon Pokagon and helps shed light on his authorship of a book by Pokagon printed shortly after his death.”

Simon Pokagon (1830‒1899) was a lifelong advocate for reparation of Indian lands and met twice with President Abraham Lincoln to plead his case. In 1893, Pokagon published “Red Man’s Rebuke,” which declared that American Indians could not celebrate the world’s fair anniversary of Christopher Columbus, whose arrival forever changed their traditional way of life. Pokagon went on to speak at the World’s Columbian Exposition to an audience of 75,000—calling for both colonizers and Indigenous peoples to work together toward common aims.

Simon Pokagon’s only full-length book, “O-gi-waw-kwe Mit-i-gwa-ki,” or “Queen of the Woods,” was published in 1899 shortly after his death and tells the story of his wife, Lodinaw. The romantic novel earned Pokagon the moniker “the Red Man’s Longfellow” by literary fans.

Some critics, however, including some Potawatomi tribal members, questioned whether the book was ghostwritten by Sarah Engle, the wife of Pokagon’s publisher and attorney. John Low noted that even today the question of Simon Pokagon’s authorship of this important book is still in question.

“Many critics have questioned whether ‘Queen of the Woods’ was the work of Pokagon,” Low stated. “If he is the true author of this book, then he will continue to be known as one of the first American Indian storytellers in the Western tradition of fiction writing.”

Low believes the Simon Pokagon letter gives some clues. In it, Pokagon writes about completing “Queen of the Woods,” which is proof that he was writing the book one year before the publication date. Moreover, he uses Potawatomi and Ojibwe/Odawa words in his letter, similar to the writing style in his books and publications.

Low suggests the letter confirms Pokagon’s writing abilities that make him the likely true author of “Queen of the Woods.” “The substantial length of the letter shows the writer to be very literate and capable of the writings ascribed to him,” noted Low.

Chicago History Museum director of collections Julie Wroblewski agrees with Low’s theory. “Although this letter was written in 1898, it’s as if Chief Pokagon is speaking to us today,” Wroblewski said. “It’s a simple letter to Pokagon’s friend that also shows the work of an accomplished writer.”

Wroblewski thanked John Low for the addition to the Museum’s archives. “This letter adds significant depth and context to the Simon Pokagon material at the Museum, including an original copy of ‘Red Man’s Rebuke,’” Wroblewski stated. “We are honored to add this important document to our collection to ensure it will be preserved and available for public access to future scholars and researchers.”

Images available here: https://chicagohistory.box.com/s/zzgg9voiqk38zb0utysw1qhlytnyfuq7

###

ABOUT THE CHICAGO HISTORY MUSEUM

The Chicago History Museum is situated on ancestral homelands of the Potawatomi people, who cared for the land until forced out by non-Native settlers. Established in 1856, the Museum is located at 1601 N. Clark Street in Lincoln Park, its third location. A major museum and research center for Chicago and U.S. history, the Chicago History Museum strives to be a destination for learning, inspiration, and civic engagement. Through dynamic exhibitions, tours, publications, special events and programming, the Museum connects people to Chicago’s history and to each other. The Museum collects and preserves millions of artifacts, documents, and images to assist in sharing Chicago stories. The Museum gratefully acknowledges the support of the Chicago Park District on behalf of the people of Chicago.

Mary Margaret Bartelme was the first woman judge in Illinois. In this blog post, learn about how she devoted her life to reforming the treatment of young people in the juvenile court system.

“There are no bad children. There are confused, neglected, love-starved, and resentful children, and what they need most I try to give them—understanding and a fresh start in the right direction.”

Mary Bartelme, Chicago, c. 1910–15. Library of Congress, Bain News Service photograph collection, LC-B2-2652-5

On July 24, 1866, Mary Margaret Bartelme was born in Chicago near Fulton and Halsted Streets to immigrants Balthasar and Jeannette, who hailed from what is now modern-day Germany. Along with her two sisters and brother, she grew up in the area that is now Fulton Market. Bartelme graduated from West Division High School (now Chicago Bulls College Prep) at age 16 and attended Cook County Normal School (now Chicago State University), from which she graduated at age 19. Afterward, Bartelme began to teach at Armour Street and Garfield Park schools.

Bartelme originally had her sights on medical school. However, she had a change of heart after meeting Myra Bradwell, who was the first woman to pass the Illinois bar exam but was denied a law license because she was married. Bradwell went on to publish a successful law journal—Chicago Legal News—and found lawmakers to support legislation she drafted, such as the first law prohibiting employment discrimination.

Two decades after the first American woman earned a law degree, Bartelme enrolled in law school at Northwestern University in 1892, specializing in probate and real estate law. After graduating, she was admitted to the Illinois bar in 1894.

Bartelme was an active women’s club member. She cofounded the Chicago Business Woman’s Club in 1894 and was a member of the Chicago Suffrage Club, Chicago Women’s Club, the Cordon Club, the League of Women Voters, and more.

In 1897, Illinois governor John R. Tanner appointed Bartelme to be Public Guardian of Cook County. She was the first woman to occupy this position, which she held for 16 years. Two years later, along with Julia Lathrop, Lucy Flowers, the State Board of Charities, and other reformers, Bartelme lobbied for and established America’s first juvenile court in Chicago in 1899. That year, with Louise DeKoven Bowen and Sara Hart, Bartelme established a detention home instead of adult jail for juvenile offenders.

Bartelme resigned from her position as public guardian in 1913 to become assistant judge to Judge Merritt W. Pinckney who presided over a growing number of juvenile court cases; Hull-House founder Jane Addams had recommended Bartelme for this position. During her tenure, Bartelme gave girls in the juvenile court system the opportunity to appear before a woman judge for this first time.

Portrait of Judge Mary M. Bartelme of the Cook County Juvenile Court in a Chicago court room, January 1924. DN-0076674, Chicago Daily News collection, CHM

A year after her assistant judge appointment, Bartelme donated her own house in Chicago to establish a “Mary Club”—a group home where girls could be safe and learn important life skills before they were placed in foster care. In 1916, she created a second Mary Club for white girls and five years later established a separate Mary Club for girls of color. By 1923, more than 2,600 girls passed through these houses. Nicknamed “Suitcase Mary,” she formed a program to provide suitcases filled with proper clothing and toiletries to young women coming out of the court system to help them establish a “respectable life.”

Judge Mary M. Bartelme, Juvenile Court judge of Cook County presiding as a Circuit Court judge in a naturalization ceremony at the County Building in Chicago, January 10, 1924. DN-0076483, Chicago Daily News collection, CHM

Elected judge in the Circuit Court of Cook County in 1923, Bartelme was, perhaps unsurprisingly, assigned to the Juvenile Court—the first woman to hold that position. She included social scientists in the hearing and sentencing portions of court proceedings. Bartelme believed the county should provide public services to juveniles and worked with the Juvenile Protective Association and the Chicago Park District to give young people an opportunity to experience city services. Though elected for a six-year term in 1927, the start of the economic depression just two years later undermined public financial support for juvenile services.

Bartelme retired in 1933 and moved to Carmel, California, with her brother until her death on July 25, 1954.

To recognize Mary Bartelme’s importance to the city, the Chicago Park District acquired a plot of land in 2006 on the Near West Side from the University of Illinois to establish Mary Bartelme Park, which was expanded in 2011.

Additional Resources

• Learn more about Myra Bradwell in our online experience Democracy Limited: Chicago Women and the Vote.
• View the catalog listing for the Mary M. Bartelme papers, 1904–1958, in the Richard J. Daley Library Special Collections and University Archives at the University of Illinois Chicago.
• Peruse our LibGuide on Women’s Studies.

As part of their work this summer, CHM curatorial research interns Tori Harris and Neive Rodriguez have compiled a list of resources on Chicago’s West Side. Both are students at the University of Chicago. Harris is studying anthropology and creative writing, and Rodriguez is studying history.

On August 8, 2024, the Chicago History Museum is hosting a screening of the short documentary Love Letter to the Westside (2024). In the words of the filmmakers:

“Our film is the capstone project of our partnership with the Community Leadership Fellowship. We, Jay Simon, Michelle Williams, Drea Slaughter, Ant Jones, and Corey Dooley, wanted to highlight the West Side experience and how Westside communities of Chicago were often absent from conversations surrounding Chicago history. In documenting the verbal history of a diverse group of Westsiders, we were able to offer our contribution to preserving Chicago’s vibrant and rich Westside roots and future. We encourage all Chicagoans to prioritize visiting and learning more about the Westside (the best side) of Chicago.”

In preparation for this event, we’ve compiled a list of resources about the city’s West Side from the Chicago History Museum’s collections and beyond.

For the Mapaholics: City of Chicago Sanborn Fire Insurance Maps

Originally created to evaluate buildings for insurance policies, Sanborn Company maps document cities across America from the 1870s until 1977. By tracking how a neighborhood changed over time, historians can learn many things about it: demographics, wealth, population numbers, and more. This website has links to all the Sanborns of Chicago online for free and public use.

Pictures taken from Sanborn Map Company, Chicago Volume 12, originally published in 1923 and corrected to 1949. These are the physical maps from CHM’s research collection at the Abakanowicz Research Center. If you look closely, you can see the original “copy and pasting” method–quite literally, copying a piece of a map onto a separate sheet of paper and pasting it over the old part of the map with glue.

For the Visual Learners: Historical Photos from the CHM Images Archive

Children eating lunch at the William Penn School, an open air school at West 16th Street and South Avers Avenue in the North Lawndale community area of Chicago, August 16, 1913. DN-0060920B, Chicago Daily News collection, CHM.

We’ve gathered images from across the Museum’s collection into this gallery for your viewing pleasure. These pictures include scenes from Civil Rights Movement actions in the Austin neighborhood to snapshots of everyday life in Humboldt Park.

For the Manuscript-Mesmerized: The Marillac House, the Greater Lawndale Conservation Commission, and the Lawndale Community Committee Records

Chicago’s West Side has long been a site of community activism, driven by both religious and secular organizations.

Exterior view of the Marillac House on West Jackson Boulevard, Chicago, 1949. ST-17600027, Chicago Sun-Times collection, CHM.

The Marillac House was a religious organization dedicated to alleviating poverty and other social ills in the West Side. Made up mostly of nuns such as Sister Mary William concerned for the deep-seated issues they saw in their neighborhood, the Marillac House ran programs and participated in protests across the city for integrated housing and schools. Alongside Marillac House, clergy at St. Agatha’s Parish in North Lawndale supported the fight for Civil Rights. One such clergy member was Father Daniel Mallette, who joined forces with nuns from Marillac House and beyond to picket the Illinois Club for Catholic Women for its refusal to admit Black members.

Mallette protesting outside of the Lewis Towers, location of the Club. Unsurprisingly, Mallette faced criticism for his actions. “I think it is very dangerous for the Catholic Church to get entangled in politics,” one angry “ex-member” of St. Agatha’s warned Mallette in a letter. From the Chicago Daily News, July 2, 1963.

Fighting side-by-side with the Marillac House and St. Agatha’s, secular organizations such as the Greater Lawndale Conservation Commission (GLCC) and the Lawndale Community Committee (LCC) were dedicated to improving life in Lawndale and the greater Southwest Side. The GLCC served as a liaison between their disparate block clubs within their community and between the community to the City of Chicago social councils, whereas the LCC was more concerned with campaigning for housing and investment in Lawndale.

The records of the Marillac House, the personal papers of Father Mallette, the materials from the GLCC, and the materials from the LCC can all be found in the Abakanowicz Research Center at the Chicago History Museum. The interview with Sister Mary William can be found in the online records of the Studs Terkel Radio Archives.

For the Future-Oriented: The Soul City Corridor Project

An artistic imagining of Soul City Corridor. Already, the City of Chicago has started revitalizing Chicago Avenue to prepare for the incoming Black-owned businesses and community resource centers.

The Soul City Corridor aims to create a celebration of African American culture, business, and ingenuity in the heart of Austin. Over the next 15 years, Chicago officials aim for Austin to become a Chicago community enclave similar to Little Italy, Ukrainian Village, or Chinatown. To learn more, check out the Austin African American Business Networking Association website or the project plan and proposal for more details of what it will look like in the coming years.

We hope to see you at the viewing on August 8! Until then, check out some of the resources that helped inspire the film:

• Forty Blocks: The East Garfield Park Oral History Project
• 40 Blocks – The East Garfield Park Oral History Project documentary film
• “West Side Voices” in Chicago History magazine

July 2024 marks 45 years since the infamous “Disco Demolition Night” promotional event at a July 12, 1979, Chicago White Sox twilight doubleheader against the Detroit Tigers that erupted into chaos. To encourage attendance, the White Sox hosted WLUP 97.9 rock DJ Steve Dahl, who was known for mocking disco and had been fired from a previous radio job when the station switched from rock to disco. They asked fans to bring a disco record to the ballpark in exchange for 98-cent admission, and those LPs were to be gathered and then blown up in a controlled explosion between games.

Some of the overcapacity crowd storms the field at Comiskey Park on Disco Demolition Night, Chicago, July 12, 1979. ST-17500752-E1, Chicago Sun-Times collection, CHM; photograph by Chuck (Charles) Kirman

That season, the White Sox had been averaging 15,000 attendees per game at Comiskey Park, which at the time had a seating capacity of 44,492. With the promotion, along with discounted admission for the simultaneous “Teen Night” promotion, the Sox were hoping for 20,000 attendees. A record crowd showed up—officially 47,795, but an estimated more than 50,000 got into ballpark and approximately 15,000 to 20,000 people lingered outside. During the first game, the crowd of mostly young people was disruptive, throwing uncollected LPs, empty bottles, lighters, and firecrackers onto the field, stopping the game several times.

Crowd sets rejected records on fire at Disco Demolition night in Comiskey Park, Chicago, July 12, 1979. ST-17500981-E1, Chicago Sun-Times collection, CHM; photograph by Jack Lenahan

Though a crate of records was blown up by Dahl in center field between games as planned, as the Sox started to warm up for game 2, attendees started to rush onto the field. With security focused on keeping gate-jumpers from entering the ballpark from outside, the crowd could not be held back. An estimated 7,000 people were on the field for 40 minutes before security and police in tactical gear were able to remove them. In that time, a bonfire was set in center field, a batting cage was destroyed, and bases were stolen. Ultimately 39 people were arrested, and the Sox had to forfeit game 2.

Bill Veeck, president of the Chicago White Sox, tries to reason with umpires and Sparky Anderson, Detroit Tigers manager, after a crowd rushed the field during Disco Demolition Night, Chicago, July 12, 1979. ST-18000030-0009, Chicago Sun-Times collection, CHM; photograph by Kevin Horan

Though Dahl claimed afterward that there was no intentional bigotry behind his anti-disco stance, Disco was originally connected to Black, Latine, and queer spaces before it saturated the mainstream market and met with backlash, often from white, heterosexual, male rock-music listeners. Ushers at Comiskey Park noted that attendees also brought funk and R&B records—other genres associated with Black artists—to be destroyed. Nile Rodgers, cofounder of the disco band Chic, said that in looking at the footage the next day, “it felt to us like a Nazi book burning.”

A man sells “Disco Sucks” t-shirts outside of Comiskey Park on Disco Demolition Night, Chicago, July 12, 1979. ST-18000030-0014, Chicago Sun-Times collection, CHM; photograph by Kevin Horan

The “disco sucks” movement was largely a marketing gimmick, targeted to the young white male demographic, as rock radio stations found that creating “disco sucks” clubs increased their listenership. Disco, which was already declining in popularity by 1979, went on to influence house music, EDM, Europop, new wave, dance-punk, and hip-hop and has seen revivals in the 21st century. Rather than destroying the genre, Disco Demolition Night is remembered as an extreme promotional event and one of only five MLB games to end in a forfeit since the post-1960 expansion era.

See more images from Disco Demolition Night at CHM Images.

As Chicago’s 2024 Democratic National Convention (DNC) approaches, the news seems relentless with its coverage. How have past conventions been covered and viewed by the public? The upcoming 2024 DNC presents a perfect opportunity to look back at how the media influenced the perception of these events.

1940

The atmosphere of the 1940 convention was initially unusually quiet and controlled. President Franklin D. Roosevelt had the support of the public for an unprecedented and controversial third term, but the silence about his candidacy rendered news reporters and delegates uncertain about the convention’s direction.

Events aimed at influencing public opinion were mounted at the DNC, with the most (in)famous of these being the “voice from the sewers,” orchestrated by Chicago mayor Edward J. Kelly. In the silence following FDR’s announced desire to avoid reelection, a mysterious voice from the crowd boomed, “WE WANT ROOSEVELT.” Delegates and Kelly-planted demonstrators joined in, sparking a 45-minute hubbub and turning an initially dull convention into a “conflagration,” according to the Chicago Defender. FDR was overwhelmingly renominated by the convention delegates and reelected by the American public.

1940 DNC at the Chicago Stadium in Chicago, July 15, 1940. ST-17605664, Chicago Sun-Times Collection, CHM. Various newspapers reported on the event with vastly different opinions. For example, The Washington Post claimed it “saved [the convention] from dropping dead of acute ennui,” and Life Magazine decried it as “one of the shoddiest and most hypocritical spectacles in its history.”

1968

If newspapers controlled the narrative in 1940, television ruled in 1968. When 10,000 Chicago Police Department (CPD) officers and 6,000 Illinois National Guardsmen attacked anti-Vietnam War protestors across the city, 83 million people watched in horror. Inside the convention, news reporters and delegates were assaulted by police, live on camera. News channels across the world decried the violence they witnessed.

Views of the 1968 DNC at the International Amphitheatre, Chicago, August 26‒29, 1968; ST-17102896-0017, Chicago Sun-Times collection, CHM. Hubert Humphrey became the nominee, but he lost the presidential election to President Richard Nixon.

However, City Hall used the media to orchestrate a counterattack justifying the CPD’s actions, and people began to doubt what happened. The Chicago Tribune praised Daley as “saving” the convention “from utter chaos,” and the New York Times emphasized that Daley received support from 90% of Chicagoans. A few weeks later, the Tribune ran a story on FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover’s interpretation of events, in which he criticized the media for magnifying “so-called ‘police brutality.’” Thus, while the media provoked outrage, it also covered the cracks it had revealed.

1996

Leading up to the 1996 convention, the public was aware of the comparisons between ’68 and ’96. Protests meant to emulate the ’68 demonstrations gathered in Grant Park and outside the newly built United Center, and police were trained to head off these protests at even higher numbers than before. Democrats took great pains to placate concerns, leading to headlines like “TALE OF 2 CONVENTIONS: The 1968 Gathering May Have Been The Worst Of Times, But Democrats Say 1996 Will Be The Most Harmonious Ever.”

Exterior view of the United Center during preparations for the 1996 DNC, June 25, 1996, Chicago; ST-30002442-0080, Chicago Sun-Times collection, CHM. Democrats took great care to soothe concerns that this convention would become the chaotic 1968 DNC and played up inter- and intra-party unity. President William J. Clinton was renominated and would go on to win another term in office.

Since the ’68 DNC, conventions had become more family-friendly than firebrand. Speakers shifted from politicians to actors and athletes, and there was more coverage of the original Broadway cast of Rent performing “Seasons of Love” than the protests just outside. The Chicago Tribune attributed this dramatic difference to homogenized political parties with no serious issues to debate, while Florida’s Sun-Sentinel thought it represented “society’s shift from turbulent idealism to cautious cynicism.” This appeal to a wider audience demonstrated, more than anything, how the ’96 convention played to a safe TV spectacle.

2024

Each of these previous DNCs and today’s media coverage will influence our perception of the event. Will we see strategic media ploys coordinated from top party officials? Unpredictable protests that shake our political system? A trouble-free, carefully calibrated TV spectacle? In August, we will certainly find out.

Preparations at the United Center for the 1996 Democratic National Convention; ST-30002442-0066, Chicago Sun-Times collection, CHM

Chicago has been the nation’s most popular political convention city, in part because of its geographic centrality. Learn more about past political nominating conventions and find more CHM resources on the history of these conventions.

About the Authors

Caroline Hugh is a Chicago History Museum Curatorial Research Intern for Summer 2024. She is a current University of Chicago student in History, Urban Planning, and Law, Letters, and Society.

Tori Harris is a Chicago History Museum Curatorial Research Intern for Summer 2024. She is a current University of Chicago student in Anthropology and Creative Writing.

Sources

• Turner Catledge, “Roosevelt Dominates Convention at Chicago: Convention Host,” The New York Times, July 14, 1940, sec. The Week In Review.
• “CBS 2 Vault: Live at the 1996 Democratic National Convention after President Clinton’s Acceptance Speech – CBS Chicago,” CBS News, March 30, 2022.
• Richard F. Ciccone, “Reflections on a Dying Tradition: The ’96 Conventions Were Little More Than Wakes for a System That Has Been on Life Support for the Last 20 Years,” Chicago Tribune, August 30, 1996, sec. The Democratic Convention.
• Bernard F. Donahoe, Private Plans and Public Dangers: The Story of FDR’s Third Nomination (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1965).
• Susan, Dunn. 1940: FDR, Willkie, Lindbergh, Hitler–The Election amid the Storm (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2013).
• Willard Edwards, “’68 Convention Seen as Last of a System: Chicago Democratic Convention of 1968 Has Far Reaching Political Consequences,” Chicago Tribune, September 1, 1968.
• Evening Standard, August 29, 1968.
• “The Daley Report,” Fifth Estate Magazine, Sept. 19-Oct. 2, 1968.
• Donald Janson, “Daley Demands Television Time to Defend Police,” Special to the New York Times, September 4, 1968.
• “President Roosevelt Answers a Call to Run for a Third Term,” LIFE, July 29, 1940.
• Richard Moe, Roosevelt’s Second Act: The Election of 1940 and the Politics of War. Pivotal Moments in American History (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013).
• David Nitkin, “Tale of 2 Conventions: The 1968 Gathering May Have Been the Worst of Times, But Democrats Say 1996 Will Be the Most Harmonius Ever,” Sun Sentinel, August 25, 1996.
• Reprints from the World Press [on Chicago during the Democratic Convention], vol. 6 (St. Louis: Focus Midwest, 1968).
• Richard J. Daley. “Mayor Richard J. Daley Inaugural Address, 1967,” Chicago Public Library, April 20, 1967.
• “Vox Populi,” Washington Post, July 20, 1940.
• Enoc P. Waters, “Race Democrats Represented By 25 On Convention Floor: New York Democratic Standard Bearers Prominent Leaders at 28th Democratic National Convention,” The Chicago Defender (National Edition), July 20, 1940.
• James Yuenger, “Hoover Lauds Chicago Cops: Defends Actions in Hippie Clashes,” Chicago Tribune, September 19, 1968.

We are proud to announce that Hojarasca® Cookies will be available in the Museum’s North & Clark Café, featuring the original recipe created by Francisco and Celia Bonilla, founders of El Nopal Bakery®. In this blog post, CHM historian Jojo Galvan looks back at the legacy of El Nopal and this taste of Chicago history.

Customers arriving at the 1961 inauguration of the El Nopal Bakery® in Pilsen. The iconic El Nopal® neon sign can be seen reflected in the top left corner of the image. Courtesy of Frank Bonilla

Chicagoans with a sweet tooth likely have a favorite panaderia (Mexican bakery) among the dozens of options on every street across the city’s South and West Sides. The panaderia experience is usually no frills, where visitors can expect a fairly similar setup no matter where they go. Baking trays lined with colorful pieces of pan dulce (sweet bread) fill up the storefront, sometimes behind glass vitrines, other times piled up on baking racks. Self-service is the name of the game. With plastic trays and metal tongs available to shoppers, the selection of goodies isn’t all that different from picking groceries at the supermarket. While some staples, like medialunas/cuernitos (croissants) or mantecadas (sweet buttery muffins) can be found in just about every bakery, the way to stay competitive and develop a dedicated clientele is by offering regional specialties, or, like the legendary El Nopal® bakeries did, offer up original recipes that blend new and old flavors to set you apart from the competition.

The 1961 inauguration of the flagship bakery in Pilsen was blessed by a priest from the nearby St. Francis Church, in University Village. The Bonillas, and their one-year-old son, Frank, are second and third from the left. Courtesy of Frank Bonilla

The El Nopal® bakeries were a twin set of neighborhood bakeries on the city’s Lower West Side that quickly rose in popularity due in no small part to the creation of the Hojarasca® (Spanish for tender leaf) cookie. El Nopal was the dream of husband-and-wife team Francisco and Celia Bonilla, who met in athe bakery where Celia worked in San Antonio. After moving to Chicago, Francisco found work as an artisanal baker in the kitchen of the Palmer House Hotel until they opened their first location on January 1, 1954, at 330 S. Halsted. By 1960, the store moved to its flagship location on 18th Street, and in 1974, a second location opened on 26th Street in the Little Village neighborhood. Through El Nopal®, the Bonillas introduced other products that are now staples in Chicago, the most notable being the Rosca de Reyes (King Cake), traditionally eaten on January 6 to celebrate Epiphany, sometimes called Three Kings Day.

During their more than 60 years of operation, a visit to the El Nopal® bakeries became a rite of passage for anyone traversing through the West Side, from politicians and celebrities to everyday Chicagoans, and a testament to the persistence of the Latine presence across the city. The bakery even makes a cameo in the 1988 action film Above the Law starring Steven Seagal and featured in a number of scenes in the music video for Carlos Santana and Michelle Branch’s 2002 chart topper, “The Game of Love.” The Pilsen location closed its doors in 2013 after the passing of Celia Bonilla, who had been running the business alongside her son, Frank. In 2015, the Little Village location shuttered its doors when Frank decided to retire.

Manuel, who served as the master baker for El Nopal®, visited from Mexico to work with North & Clark Café manager Olga Castrejon on baking according to the traditional recipe.

El Nopal’s best sellers, the heart-shaped Hojarasca® cookies are known by many names (Biscochitos, Mexican Shortbread Cookies, Wedding Cookies, etc.), but the recipe created by the Bonillas is one of a kind. Crafted from a highly guarded blend of specific flour, spices, and baking techniques, the recipe was, for years, known only to the Bonilla family and El Nopal®’s master baker, Manuel, who resides in Mexico. However, as part of the larger Aquí en Chicago project, and thanks to a partnership between Frank Bonilla and CHM’s North & Clark Café, the Museum is thrilled that El Nopal®’s Hojarasca® cookies will once again be available for purchase, with batches made daily in the Museum café following the same recipe that made the Bonillas legends amongst Chicago’s panaderos.

Available daily while supplies last.

A fresh batch of Hojarasca® made at the North & Clark Café.

This blog post would not have been possible without the research of Deborah Kanter, author of Chicago Católico: Making Catholic Parishes Mexican, available at CHM’s Museum Store and online.

From the early 1970s to 1989, St. Sebastian Catholic Church in Chicago was a home for Catholic members of the LBGTQIA+ community. CHM curator of religion and community history Rebekah Coffman talks briefly about the church’s history, its place in the city’s LGBTQIA+ history, and the broader history of the Roman Catholic Church’s relationship with the LGBTQIA+ community.

Images from the 20th Annual Pride Parade on Broadway Avenue in the Northalsted neighborhood, 1989, from CHM, Lee A. Newell II Visual Materials, 1997.0093, box 3.

For decades, Pride in Chicago has been affiliated with the North Side neighborhood of Northalsted, formerly known as Boystown, in the Lake View community area. The city’s first Pride parade was held in June 1970, one year after the Stonewall Uprising, and has become a principal annual recognition of LGBTQIA+ history and presence in Chicago. Parades also served as protest, asserting visibility and claiming the right to take up space in the public sphere.

Stonewall marker on the Legacy Walk on North Halsted Avenue in the Lakeview community area. Photograph by Rebekah Coffman, 2022.

As Northalsted has continued to grow in its global recognition as an LGBTQIA+ inclusive neighborhood, so too has the commemoration of LGBTQIA+ histories. For example, the Legacy Walk on North Halsted Street, running between Belmont Avenue and Grace Street, is an outdoor museum consisting of a series of ten steel monuments memorializing biographical histories and legacies of LGBTQIA+ individuals around the world. Inaugurated in 2012, it was initially inspired through the Names Project AIDS Memorial Quilt in 1987. Each steel monument holds four bronze plaques, making 40 total, with new figures added annually. These monuments have made, and continue to make, LGBTQIA+ histories public that may otherwise be lesser known, hidden, or forgotten.

Interior view of St. Sebastian Church, August 31, 1953. Photograph by Hedrich-Blessing, CHM, HB-16434A

While more people may be familiar with these community markers and public displays, LGBTQIA+ history in Chicago is found in many lesser-known places around the city that do not have the same public memorialization. St. Sebastian Catholic Church is a story of one such lesser-known history.

View of St. Sebastian Church being moved down West Wellington Avenue in the Lakeview community area of Chicago. March 15, 1915. DN-0064260, Chicago Daily News negatives collection, CHM.

The home of St. Sebastian Catholic Church was built as a simple wooden structure in 1886 on the corner of Wellington Avenue and Bucher Street (now Wilton Avenue), initially housing the congregation of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. In 1912, the congregation divided, and those who stayed at Wellington and Bucher became known as St. Sebastian’s, with Our Lady of Mount Carmel moving to a new chapel at Belmont Avenue and Clark Street. The physical structure of St. Sebastian’s was moved a couple of years later to the corner of Wellington Avenue and Dayton Street.

Over the next decades, St. Sebastian Catholic Church became known for serving a diverse body of worshippers, welcoming Polish, South American, Asian, and Puerto Rican churchgoers and holding a weekly Spanish mass. From the early 1970s to 1989, the church was an important place for the LGBTQIA+ community as the home to a weekly welcoming and affirming mass.

Dignity/Chicago newsletters, November 1977 and August 1980.

At this time, affirming masses at St. Sebastian’s were held on Sunday evenings and stewarded by an independent organization known as Dignity/Chicago. Formed in January 1972, Dignity/Chicago is a local chapter of DignityUSA, a national organization whose mission is “to work for respect and justice for all gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender persons in the Catholic Church and the world.” It was founded to serve as a support for LGBTQIA+ Catholics, so they are “affirmed and experience dignity through the integration of their spirituality with their sexuality, and, as beloved persons of God, participate fully in all aspects of life within the Church and Society.” By the 1980s, the national organization had 110 chapters nationwide, and the local Chicago chapter grew to over 150 members.

Religious service held in Lincoln Park as part of Pride week, June 22, 1977. ST-17300370-0009, Chicago Sun-Times collection, CHM

Despite this growing acceptance and presence in the Catholic church locally, the global church’s stance remained firmly positioned against full LGBTQIA+ inclusion. In 1986, the Vatican published a document titled On the Pastoral Care of Homosexual Persons, which sought to clarify the global Catholic Church’s position. While the directive claimed to affirm dignity for all people and permitted pastoral care to LGBTQIA+ people, it explicitly called homosexuality an “intrinsic moral evil,” instructing bishops to pull their support from organizations that contradicted the church’s official stance, including their use of Church buildings and facilities.

For some time following the edict’s pronouncement, Cardinal Joseph Bernardin permitted St. Sebastian’s priests to continue leading mass with Dignity. However, in May 1988 it was announced that services would be taken over by the archdiocese, with services led by pastors from five other churches who would lead “in accord with church teaching and discipline.” This approach had divisive results, with some saying they felt more supported by the Catholic church under diocesan leadership while others felt unwelcome.

Broadway United Methodist Church in the Northalsted neighborhood. Photograph by Rebekah Coffman, 2022.

In May 1988, a majority of Dignity members voted to move their services to a non-Catholic facility and in June began worshipping at nearby Resurrection Lutheran Church. They would hold mass in several welcoming Protestant churches before finding a new permanent home at Broadway United Methodist Church in 1992.

Outlines cover and detail from p. 16, February 1989. CHM, Outlines, HQ75.C45 Folio.

For LGBTQIA+ parishioners who chose to stay at St. Sebastian’s, through discussion with Cardinal Bernardin and LGBTQIA+ leaders, the affirming Sunday evening mass began to be led by the Archdiocesan Gay and Lesbian Outreach (AGLO), a ministry of the Catholic Church. However, by this time general attendance across all services at St. Sebastian’s—three English speaking, one Spanish speaking, and AGLO’s mass—was declining and financial challenges were growing. These issues compounded exponentially when a basement fire broke out in July 1989, creating hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of damage, essentially hollowing out the church building completely. The fire ultimately became the final straw in the congregation’s vitality and in December, Cardinal Bernardin announced St. Sebastian’s would not be rebuilt, closing officially on June 30, 1990.

Sanctuary of Mount Carmel Catholic Church, Photograph by Rebekah Coffman, 2022.

Following St. Sebastian’s closure, surviving relics, church staff, and some parishioners moved to nearby Our Lady of Mount Carmel parish, which continues today as the “mother church” of AGLO. In a July 24, 1989, Chicago Tribune article titled “Parishioners keep faith after fire,” Juan Mosquera, a Cuban migrant who came to Chicago in 1962, is quoted saying, “The real church, the people—English, Spanish, gay—we are still here. We party together, we cry together.” Today, the global Roman Catholic Church still does not fully doctrinally affirm LGBTQIA+ people and lifestyles. However, recent shifts, such as Pope Francis’s authorization of blessing same-sex couples in December 2023, are evidence of the continuing legacy of decades of strives for full inclusion.

Additional Resources

• Listen to Studs Terkel interviews with LGBTQIA+ activists, artists, and writers between the early 1960s and the early 1980s
• View our 2D materials relating to LGBTQIA+ peoples and history at the Abakanowicz Research Center
• Use our LibGuide to aid in your research relating to LGBTQIA+ peoples and history
• Visit the LGBTQ Religious Archives Network

In this blog post, CHM curatorial fellow Elizabeth Barahona recounts the police violence against Republic Steel organizers in what came to be known at the “Memorial Day Massacre” with a focus on the harm done to two Latino workers.

Content warning: This post contains images of violence and police brutality.

On Memorial Day, Sunday, May 30, 1937, several hundred individuals—white, Black, and Latino men, women, and children—were peacefully protesting at Republic Steel on Chicago’s far Southeast Side. The demonstrators presented the steel company with demands that included recognizing their union, ratifying a labor agreement, raising wages, enhancing workplace safety, and ceasing unfair labor practices such as suppressing and retaliating against union activities.

The National Labor Relations Act of 1935 had guaranteed workers the right to organize into trade unions, engage in collective bargaining, and participate in collective actions like strikes. So, the protesters approached the Republic Steel plant with hope. After all, just a few months earlier, in March 1937, U. S. Steel, the country’s largest steel producer, had agreed to a union arrangement, setting a precedent for others like Republic Steel to emulate.

Families began the day at the union headquarters, a quaint establishment known as Sam’s Place. Dressed in their Sunday best—suits, white dress shirts, dark pants, complemented with a variety of fedora, panama, homburg, and poorboy hats—they planned a parade at the conclusion of the protest march. Unfortunately, the day did not go as planned.

Republic Steel had anticipated their demonstration and acquired more than $50,000 worth of tear gas to supply the Chicago police merely ten days prior. They also procured distinct white clubs fashioned from hatchet handles—vastly different from the standard police nightsticks. The Chicago police intentionally increased their force to 264 officers that afternoon.

Police confronting strikers outside Republic Steel during what became known as the Memorial Day Massacre; some police can be seen holding white hatchet handles, Chicago, May 30, 1937. DN-C-8769A, Chicago Sun-Times/Chicago Daily News collection, CHM

As the protesters marched, they faced a formation of uniformed police officers. What followed was a harrowing display of state force: police threw tear gas canisters, fired bullets, and used their clubs to brutally bash the heads and bodies of the demonstrators.

The aftermath of the violence was catastrophic: ten lay dead, 40 were shot, and more than 90 were wounded.

Among the injured was Ms. Guadalupe “Lupe” Gallardo Marshall, a petite 31-year-old Mexican immigrant and volunteer social worker at the Hull-House Settlement. Marshall stood among the 200 women at the march. Police officers beat her, but even as she tried to escape, she defended her unconscious fellow protestors. Police forced her into a packed wagon, alongside other injured demonstrators, where despite her own injuries, Marshall attended to other victims. The wagon deliberately roamed the city, delaying its arrival at Burnside Hospital on the South Side.

Lupe Marshall can be seen in this photograph of picketers rushing to Republic Steel strikers on the ground, May 30, 1937. Courtesy of the Southeast Chicago History Society, Archive ID: 1981-077-079k, gift of Edward Sadlowski.

At the South Chicago Police Station, the police detained other injured protestors for up to three days. One of those detained was Max Guzmán, a 26-year-old Mexican steelworker, who had been struck in the head by an officer. Without providing medical care, police fingerprinted Guzmán at the station, interrogated him about alleged communist ties, and when they learned he was not a US citizen, threatened him with deportation.

When the dust settled, influential newspapers such as the New York Times and the Chicago Daily Tribune, owned by the staunchly antilabor and McCarthyist McCormick family, presented an inaccurate narrative, accusing the protesters of everything from initiating the violence on police, to being under the influence of drugs and subscribing to communist ideologies.

Fortunately, journalists and cameramen from other media outlets, including Paramount News, attended that day. Paramount executives initially withheld the footage they captured, fearing that its release to the public might cause significant unrest or backlash, but it was ultimately released during a monumental US Senate investigation into the event.

Another Chicago Daily News image of police confronting strikers, Chicago, May 30, 1937. DN-C-8769B, Chicago Sun-Times/Chicago Daily News collection, CHM

From the footage, the Senate committee determined that the police made many baseless allegations, including lying about carrying regulation equipment-night sticks and instead carrying hatchet-handle clubs and tear gas. The investigation exposed the truth and debunked other police claims, revealing their aggressive, unprovoked tactics and the subsequent cover-up. The Senate concluded that the police did not properly prepare their officers with clear instructions, used excessive force in their interactions with protestors, and did not carry out an honest investigation of the events.

As the newsreel footage played across cinemas nationwide, the truth of the “Memorial Day Massacre” became undeniable. This event, the victims, the survivors, and the media’s role in shaping its narrative underscore the everlasting importance of documenting and challenging power. And the resilience and sacrifices of Latinos such as Lupe Marshall and Max Guzmán, especially in the face of police brutality, underscore the pivotal role they played in the struggle for justice and equity in Chicago.

Women protesters picketing at City Hall in support of Republic Steel strikers after what is known as the Memorial Day Massacre, Chicago, June 2, 1937. DN-C-8805, Chicago Sun-Times/Chicago Daily News collection, CHM

Additional Resources

• See the Southesast Chicago Historical Society’s Memorial Day Massacre story
• Listen to Dr. Lewis Andreas talk to Studs Terkel about being at the Memorial Day Massacre
• See the PBS documentary Memorial Day Massacre: Workers Die, Film Buried (2023)