In June of 1974, Lake Street looked like this. (Photo courtesy of Oak Leaves 1974 Anniversary Issue)

Forty years ago, Marion between Lake Street and North Boulevard, was all ripped up — like it was again just seven years ago. Only back in 1974 they were “un-streeting” as opposed to “re-streeting.” Lake Street was torn up, too, from Harlem to Forest. 

Times were a-changing in the late spring/early summer of 1974. Unity Temple was undergoing an extensive renovation to “undo” a well-intentioned-but-misguided “resurfacing” of Frank Lloyd Wright’s masterpiece, an architectural crime committed in 1959, the very year Wright died. Maybe it contributed to his demise.

Meanwhile, the Wright Home & Studio was purchased from Mrs. Nooker, marking the beginning of Oak Park’s status as a true tourist destination [See All Wright walk marks milestone year, WJ Homes, May 14]. The Wright Trust, also formed that year, and the Hemingway Foundation now draw visitors from all over the world to our broad, leafy streets.

In 1974, Oak Park Township had just opened their new digs on Oak Park Avenue. District 97 was just beginning the process that would result in creating two junior high schools (eventually to become Brooks and Julian middle schools), altering the old K-8 neighborhood school model. 

Mills Tower, next to Pleasant Home in Mills Park, was under construction, and despite a cement strike (which also held up construction of the mall), work had begun on the new “civic center” at Lombard and Madison, described as a “square donut,” which residents today know as Oak Park Village Hall.

Big plans were in the offing for the land where the old village hall stood, Euclid Avenue and Lake Street, and extending all the way down Lake to East Avenue. The proposed development was called “Bishop’s Mews-Avenue Galleria” (a reference both to London and the old Bishop Quarter Military Academy). The proposal included both low-rise townhouses and commercial development. The plans called for “an enclosed shopping center with a 30,000-square-foot supermarket, a quality restaurant, and staggered specialty shops.” Bobbie Raymond, head of the fledgling Housing Center (1972), expressed hope that the supermarket would resemble the innovative Treasure Island on the North Side of Chicago.

Art Replogle, head of the public-private sector experiment known as the Oak Park Development Corporation (now the Oak Park Economic Development Corporation), was one of those spearheading the plan. In an Oak Leaves special section, published on June 26, 1974, Replogle and others delivered an upbeat assessment of Oak Park’s future. He touted the upcoming Stankus high-rise at Forest and Lake (now 100 Forest Place, but that didn’t happen for more than a decade), an impending West Suburban Hospital renovation that “may also expand their facility westward,” and mentioned that “Oak Park Hospital has a 5- to 10-year master plan and has been buying property in the area with plans of expansion” (Rush Oak Park’s professional office building didn’t become a reality for another 25 years).

The low-rise town houses on Lake Street east of Euclid were eventually built, but the commercial part of the dream never became a reality. Perhaps not coincidentally, a condo development was built at the turn of the century on the northeast corner of Euclid and Lake (across the street from the old village hall), which was called “The Mews,” so someone had a sense of history — or a sense of humor.

The Stankus tower, as most Dear Old Oak Parkers know, was the occasion of the first pitched development battle in the village and the idea was eventually ditched (so to speak) but not before the foundation had been dug. For over a decade, it was known ignominiously as “the Stankus Hole.”

Other village notables and officials, meanwhile, offered comments that still apply today. Village Manager Lee Ellis, for instance, praised local government for its stability, but noted prophetically, “The problem is maximizing citizen participation without sacrificing what’s best for the entire community.” He specifically mentioned a proposed shopping center at Austin and Madison, an attempt to upgrade the eastern edge of the village, which never saw the light of day. 

“Many area residents are opposed to the development,” Ellis noted. “It’s a very difficult problem.” Though democracy is messy, he added, “we will continually have to hash and rehash arguments. Our problems won’t disappear in a year or two. If people accept the fact that there will be differences of opinion and if we work together, we stand a better chance of solving our problems. I think it can and must be done. Otherwise, we can let our town die.”

Village President Jim McClure Jr. agreed. 

“We are presently at a crossroads, marking the end of the frontier psychology. Land is no longer unlimited. We must and will stop moving our suburbs farther from the metropolitan areas. We are beginning to realize that we must restore and rehabilitate what we already have. Europe understands the importance of preserving the past. The new frontier will be a re-evaluation of the essential worth of what we already have. We must now learn to keep and improve our communities by recognizing the need for change.” All very familiar. Though suburbs kept moving westward, Oak Park did restore, rehab and has been in the process of rebuilding, and though not everyone is comfortable with it, the need for change has been recognized.

Replogle said, “The attitude of the village trustees is very important. They are committed to the future of Oak Park, which is different than it has been.”

Things were certainly about to look very different in the vicinity of Marion and Lake streets. The cover of the Oak Leaves special section showed work in progress as pedestrians filed up and down narrow strips of pavement on each side. A photo taken before work began shows Marion “streeted,” with parked cars lining both sides and two lanes of traffic. The caption reads: “Marion St. and North Blvd. as it will never again appear.” 

Never say never.

The photos show no less than three shoe stores on that block of Marion Street at the time, along with Hair World beauty salon, Hayward Jeweler, and Lyon & Healy organs and pianos. A column by J.E. (Cap) Shelby, monikered “Cap’s Comments” and titled, “Mood music soothes shoppers,” includes a photo of Bernadette Seremak in the street, playing one of the Lyon & Healy organs “amid the rubble.” A company spokesperson said they would continue the practice in order to boost morale.

Further on, a full page ad from the Lake/Marion/Harlem Business Association shows sketches of the future mall under the heading, “We’re Putting The Park In Downtown Oak Park: The New Look of Car-Free … Tree-Lined Shopping and Browsing. Creating a New Garden Park in Oak Park. We’re Giving Nature Back to the Village in the New ‘People Only’ Shopping Plaza.”

It opened to much fanfare, but never really fulfilled expectations. So eventually Oak Park went back to the future. In 1988, the main part of the mall was re-streeted. Then in 2007, the last vestige of the mall on Marion Street was opened and the street bricked.

But much of what started here in 1974 took root and has grown. Change has been embraced. A new hole is about to be dug at Lake and Forest. Another may follow at the old Colt building site. 

We trust they won’t take over a decade to be filled.

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