Once upon a time, in the village of Oak Park, there was a proud little building called the Arcade. Born in 1906, polished up in 1922, and lovingly restored in 2008, it stood as a reminder that history matters. So much so that in 2007, the village bestowed upon it the title of “historic landmark.”
The people were pleased. They had created a council of wise ones — the Historic Preservation Commission — to guard such treasures. And guard it they did. Four times, the commission said “no” to a towering, 10-story newcomer that threatened to overshadow the Arcade. Four times! In most fairy tales, that’s the part where the dragon retreats.
But lo and behold, in our modern-day fable, a new village board is here. And this board decided that housing density was the magic word that trumped all others. Forget affordable housing — why bother, when the project just happens to land one unit shy of the requirement? Forget history, too. “Density!” cried the board, and suddenly the rules, the guardians, and the landmark itself all shrank into background scenery.
And so the Arcade’s story took a turn. It still stands — for now — but dwarfed by promises of profit and a developer’s clever arithmetic. The moral of the story? In Oak Park, history is optional, density is destiny, and once upon a time may soon be all we have left.
Robert Milstein, Oak Park
