That Toddlin' Town!

My mother has, among unquantifiable amounts of receipts, magazines, mementos and junk mail, at least two years worth of pristine "Preservation" magazines, the journal of the National Trust for Historic Preservation.

I relate this, not to libel her housekeeping reputation, but simply to underscore that I have crossed the living room and ignored these particular periodicals literally thousands of times.

However, I've been on a bit of a history kick since reading Mayflower, by Nathaniel Philbrick (of which I found a copy in a Vegas hotel of all places), and so on my last visit I decided to flip through the back issues of "Preservation."

The beautiful buildings, the well-told adventures of renovation, and the urgency of rescuing threatened landmarks enthralled me. I was particularly struck by a lusty centerfold of a spectacularly frescoed grand hotel lobby: the Palmer House in Chicago.

The Palmer House??

As in the Hilton Palmer hotel that I've seen listed on pairing information for long ORD layovers??

No freaking way!

I rushed to the computer to confirm, and sure enough, my company actually puts us at one of the most glamorous and historic hotels in the Windy City. And not only that, but at that very moment a 4-day trip with a 30hr ORD layover was sitting right there in open time, one empty spot calling my name!

Being the fabulous line holder that I am (for November at least), I called scheduling and traded my trips around until I was Chicago bound.

I spent the next few days giddily flipping through maps and guide books. Inspired my the "Preservation" magazine, where some Chicago edifice seemed to be featured in every issue I themed my layover an architectural adventure and charged up my beloved Canon PowerShot Digital elph.

I arrived late on Wednesday night and had quite a time locating my room down the confusing but colorful halls decorated in a peacock motif and lined with glossy black and white photos of celebrities who had played the hotel's Empire Ballroom in its heyday.

Despite the luxuries room, I rose early the next day and rode the CTA to the University of Illinois at Chicago (UIC) campus to see Hull House, the original building from reformer Jane Addams famous "social settlement". I had read Twenty-Five Years at Hull House when I was in college.

The building was basically a turn of the century home, but I couldn't help thinking that even a soup kitchen or after school program must be more humanizing in a lovely brick structure with grand carved staircases.

It was a little sad for me however to realize that despite all her good work, Jane had some unsettling political objectives and that Hull House was so intentionally secular. It's sad that her work didn't give glory to God, especially since so many of her residents were immigrants that must have had strong religious backgrounds.

Of course there is always the bias of the museum curators, so I've dug up my copy of Twenty Five Years and I intent on rereading it soon.


Back downtown I headed to the Chicago Cultural Center, famed for it's Tiffany glass domes. Originally the city's public library, it now houses art exhibits, performances, and a visitors information center. It's free, open to the public and absolutely breathtaking!

The domes and mosaics were everything they promised to be, and after seeing them pictures so often, to actually stand in their sparking light was like meeting a celebrity.

In the lobby was an aromatic coffee shop and everywhere citizens were gathering to read, chat and soak up the setting. The building felt so alive.

And it continued like this the rest of the afternoon: turn corner, gasp, snap picture.
I walked for hours, down the "Miracle Mile", over the Chicago River, and through Millennium Park.

When it finally got too dark and chilly to continue (and I reminded myself I had a 4am van time the next morning), I went up to the third floor of the Border's bookstore and perched myself in the cafe window to reflect on the day.

A warm cup of decaf in hand and a stack of Chicago history books at my feet, I began to draft this post. Across the street, young ballerinas rehearsed on the upper floors of the Macy's building while below the animated and colorful holiday windows amused the many pedestrians. Occasionally an elevated train rattled by at my eye level.

I haven't been this enamored of a city in years.

I purchased City of the Century: the Epic of Chicago and the Making of America by Donald L Miller, the thickest and most highly recommended of the books I had browsed and dived in on my flight back to Houston.

It was such a wonderful layover, that I harbored no ill will to the driver who picked me up at 4am sharp. The only other people out were early morning delivery men and a couple stumbling back to the hotel from a very late night.

Maybe next time I'll get to see a little bit of their Chicago too.