Chicago

Architecture, neighborhoods and that distinctly Chicago way-of-life.  Sweet home, Chicago.

 

Chicago’s Open House 2018

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This weekend was Chicago Open House, two days when more than 250 buildings are open to the public for a look-see.

Usually, my friend Dan and I go. We hike all over town to see a few of each of our short-listed sites. Last year it was pouring rain, and we concentrated on houses in the Prairie District. This year, Dan is in Spain (!!!) so I headed out alone with a long short-list that would take me from Edgewater to the Loop via Ukrainian Village. I managed to see six of my eight sites–sacrificing two when I dallied a bit longer than my schedule allowed.

Thankfully, the day was sunny, though cold. I laced up my shoes, dressed warm with layers and hit the road for the first of my many CTA bus / train rides of the day. First stop: That pink building along the lakefront in Edgewater…the Edgewater Beach Apartments.

Edgewater Beach Apartments

The apartments (in “sunset pink”) were built in 1928, as part of a resort hotel complex. The apartment building used to touch the beach, but lost its lake shore status when Lake Shore Drive rudely squeezed in between the complex and Lake Michigan. The hotel part of the complex was demolished in the early 70s. Today, the pink building smiles at the edge of the water, and saves an expanse of perfectly green grass for the neighbors to see–but not use.

Pink Edgewater Beach Apartments, facing South looking up
Edgewater Beach Apartments, facing South and looking up at the belly of the Maltese Cross design.
Edgewater Beach Apartments, looking North at the curve of the Maltese Cross design
Edgewater Beach Apartments, looking North at the curve of the Maltese Cross design.
On the lawn looking north at the Edgewater Beach Apartments
On the lawn looking north at the Edgewater Beach Apartments. This would have been the view from the demolished Edgewater Beach Hotel.
The lawn of Edgewater Beach Apartments is to be seen but not used by neighbor buildings
The lawn of Edgewater Beach Apartments is to be seen but not used by neighboring buildings.

 

Garfield-Clarendon Model Railroad Club

Wow. That’s about all I can say. Wow! A room filled with at least a mile of tracks, running a bunch of exact-replica trains, through miniature to-scale villages–and it takes thirty minutes for the train to run the whole track. There are blinking lights, working railroad crossings, train sounds, hills, tunnels, and a bunch of railroad guys making sure it all runs without incident. I couldn’t have been more impressed. And I could have stayed there all day finding all the tiny details–like a truck tire in the midst of being changed, water from the fire department boat, swimmers, rows of farm crops, the Metra clanging sound…wow. Just wow.

A conductor monitors the tracks at the Garfield-Clarendon Model Railroad Club.
A conductor monitors the tracks at the Garfield-Clarendon Model Railroad Club.
A conductor at the Garfield-Clarendon Model Railroad Club touches up the village.
A conductor at the Garfield-Clarendon Model Railroad Club touches up the village.
Trains pass by the parked Ringling Brothers train, and platforms full of tiny people at the Garfield-Clarendon Model Railroad Club.
Trains pass by the parked Ringling Brothers train (even the plastic animals should be free to go, you know), and platforms full of tiny people at the Garfield-Clarendon Model Railroad Club.
The Metra clangs through the village at Garfield-Clarendon Model Railroad Club.
The Metra clangs through the village at Garfield-Clarendon Model Railroad Club.

 

Ukrainian Village and the Holy Trinity Cathedral

I made my way to Ukrainian Village for the churches. First up was the Louis Sullivan-designed 1903 church, the Holy Trinity Cathedral. Cathedral was too heavy of a name for this small and elegant space. I loved the scale here: a pew-less church, intimate, with warm light spilling onto the floor, and a dove over the main arch of the entrance. Of course, there were the icons and the candles too. But after sitting absorbing that amazing light, having a lovely conversation about Louis Sullivan and Richard Nickel with a deacon-docent, and watching Sergei pull the rope that rang the bell for me–“in the name of Jesus”–this place found a way into my heart.

The onion domes of Louis Sullivan's Holy Trinity Cathedral in Ukrainian Village Chicago.
The onion domes of Louis Sullivan’s Holy Trinity Cathedral in Ukrainian Village Chicago.
Holy Water tank and funnel at Holy Trinity Cathedral in Ukrainian Village Chicago.
Holy Water tank and funnel at Holy Trinity Cathedral in Ukrainian Village Chicago.
A dove of peace Looking up as I entered the main room of Holy Trinity Cathedral.
Looking up as I entered the main room of Holy Trinity Cathedral, the Dove of Peace.
The light streams into the main room of Holy Trinity Cathedral.
The light streams into the main room of Holy Trinity Cathedral.

 

Ukrainian Village: St. Nicolas Cathedral

What Holy Trinity had in intimacy, this place had in grandness. The chandelier boasts 480 lights, the gilded altar shines in the front, the stained glass reaches in from 13 onion domes touching the rows and rows of pews. What astounding beauty. So much so that it felt untouchable, and unreachable.

A few of St. Nicolas Cathedral's domes.
A few of St. Nicolas Cathedral’s domes.
The grand and colorful St. Nicolas Cathedral in Ukrainian Village, Chicago.
The grand and colorful St. Nicolas Cathedral in Ukrainian Village, Chicago.
Looking up at the 480-light chandelier in St. Nicolas Cathedral.
Looking up at the 480-light chandelier in St. Nicolas Cathedral.

 

Ukrainian Village: Saints Volodymyr & Olha Ukrainian Catholic Church

If Holy Trinity was too small, and St. Nicolas was too big, was this just right for Goldilocks? This church felt old on the inside, but was only from the 1970s. I was struck by the blues, the stained glass rainbows, and the 50 cent candle votives on either side of the altar…oh, and the incense spoon.

Saints Volodymyr & Olha Ukrainian Catholic Church's chandelier.
Saints Volodymyr & Olha Ukrainian Catholic Church’s chandelier.
Votives in Saints Volodymyr & Olha Ukrainian Catholic Church.
Votives in Saints Volodymyr & Olha Ukrainian Catholic Church.
The incense burner, with an incense spoon in Saints Volodymyr & Olha Ukrainian Catholic Church.
The incense burner, with an incense spoon at Saints Volodymyr & Olha Ukrainian Catholic Church.
50 cent votives in Saints Volodymyr & Olha Ukrainian Catholic Church.
50 cent votives in Saints Volodymyr & Olha Ukrainian Catholic Church.
Another set of 50 cent votives in Saints Volodymyr & Olha Ukrainian Catholic Church.
Another set of 50 cent votives in Saints Volodymyr & Olha Ukrainian Catholic Church.

 

Last stop:  The Cliff Dwellers

After my day of seeing out-of-the-way places, it was a bit of a shock to have to wait for 20 minutes to get to the elevators for the Cliff Dwellers site. Yes, it was a great view of the Lake, Grant Park, and the only time I think I’ve had a good idea of the Art Institute’s footprint.

The view of Sweet Home Chicago from the Cliff Dwellers place at 200 S. Michigan.
The view of Sweet Home Chicago from the Cliff Dwellers place at 200 S. Michigan.

 
Check out photos from the 2016 Open House Chicago and from the 2015 OHC. One of these days, I’ll post 2017’s Open House. Last year at this time, life was getting mobile. Stay tuned!

Creative Sustenance

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Over the past few months, I’ve been catching up on photo blogs from our travels. I wish I’d made time on the road to have done these blogs real time. But I was too busy enjoying the moments and I won’t let myself regret that. I find myself rolling the question of “what is the purpose of my blog?” around in my head a lot. Why do it? In the end, I’ve come to think of it as my creative sustenance.

Blogging on a regular schedule has been good for me–I’m writing more, doing something with my photos, making videos again, trying to discipline myself by editing with an aimed machete, and self-imposing deadlines to publish. I like thinking about these projects and topics for photography. I like the practice of writing, and shooting regularly. It gives me challenges. I’m trying new things. It gets me out. And in the end, that’s the best part of all.

Yesterday, my friend Debbie and I attended Filter Photo Festival’s Sony Photo Walk workshop. This was a two-hour, free event to sample the newest Sony mirror-less cameras. We checked in early, and checked out our cameras–I had the Sony a7-III, with the 55mm 1.8 Zeiss lens. And a few minutes later, we hit Chicago’s Magnificent Mile on a blustering Fall day.

Now, I’m not a reviewer of cameras. So, you’ll not be hearing any detailed techie stuff. What I can say is this:  the camera is crazy lightweight, the focus zones and super high ISO were impressive, it shoots video too, and I loved the pop-out screen and shutter silencer. Net: If I had a few grand laying around, I’d get one, with a couple of those sweet Zeiss prime lenses. Of course, then I’d have to buy a new Mac to fully update Adobe Creative Cloud to read the Sony A7-III cards…and well, this little hobby gets expensive. But I digress.

The point of this was to say that it is good to get out and try something new. I didn’t take any photos that light up my switchboard, but I spent time with a long-time friend, had celery in ceviche, accepted a broken pink rose from a friendly florist, and walked among tourists on a blustery Chicago day. Good stuff. Creative sustenance. I feel energized today.

Thank you Debbie for asking me to go, and thank you Filter and Sony for setting up photo walks to sample cameras!

I’d love to hear how others get creatively nourished. Any tips?

The Sony a7-III with the 35mm lens
The Sony a7-III with the 35mm lens.
Ben the Sony guy shows Debbie a camera feature.
Ben the Sony guy shows Debbie a camera feature.
Ben the Sony guy.
Ben the Sony guy.
The Drake Hotel has two of these dripping crystal chandeliers in the lobby.
The Drake Hotel has two of these dripping crystal chandeliers in the lobby.
Pink rose detail
We wandered into the Drake Hotel to get out of the rain and smelled flowers before we saw them. The florist gave me the most perfect rose–broken and unusable to him.
Bride Bridesmaids Michigan Ave Cold Chicago day
Bride & Bridesmaids near Michigan Avenue. It was 54 degrees and rainy. I’m cold just looking at them.
People parked under a construction awning in the rain. Michigan Ave, Chicago.
People parked under a construction awning in the rain. Michigan Ave, Chicago.
Debbie and Ben the Sony guy.
Debbie and Ben the Sony guy.
Walking in a Sony group down Michigan.
Walking in a Sony group down Michigan.
Watering the mums in Chicago, Michigan Avenue
Chicago’s already planted the mums on Michigan! And is watering…in the rain. 
Debbie in the elevator
Debbie in the elevator.
Debbie and Carol photographing in the mirror in the elevator.
Debbie and Carol photographing in the mirror in the elevator.

A Turtle’s Summer

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Do you ever feel cooped up? Frustrated by the same old-same old? Restricted, not in control, with zero spontaneity in your life? Furious with boredom? Restless with ennui? Well, this is a little story for those of us who feel that way.

Well actually, it’s a little story about a little soul who lives in a 1 x 3 foot tank–and has lived in those glass walls for at least 32 years. This is about Forrest, an Eastern Box Turtle.

Forrest lives next door. He’s lived there for eight years, belonging to a teenage boy. Prior to there, he lived with another kid for about 20 years. And it is likely he came from another aging kid before that. Lucky or not, Eastern Box Turtles can live to be 100-years-old. By current estimates, Forrest is in his thirties, if not older.

In any case, for eleven days this summer, we dog and turtle-sat for our neighbors. As I put fresh lettuce down for Forest that first day, I noticed the quiet in the room, the isolation in that tank. He sat staring into a corner. It was as if boredom had an odor that I recognized. I decided to take Forrest out to the backyard for a walk. Maybe it was a little bit risky–what if something happened to him? And maybe it would take a little too much time–I had a million other things to do. But, a little walk in the grass and some fresh air to add some spice and variety to his life seemed like a good thing to do. Give him something he could ruminate on in his memories for days yet to come.

And so, for the next eleven days, Forrest got to stretch his legs in his backyard. He got to smell the grass, the mulch, feel the dew and the sprinkler rain, and lift his head into the morning sun. I enjoyed those days very much. These photos are from those days.

Forrest Eastern box turtle in grass
Forrest would sit for a moment when first placed in the backyard. Maybe inhaling the fresh grass smell or feeling the morning dew between his toes. He’d stretch his neck to look through the grassy jungle and pick a destination.
Forrest the box turtle in his backyard
Forrest walked past leaves with caution, sometimes stopping to sniff or look. If startled, his head and feet would suddenly pull inside with a little air-tight suction sound. Forrest never waited long before bravely coming back out.
Forrest the turtle stretching his legs
Forrest stretching his legs. His tank is too small for him to stroll far. It surprised me how fast he walked when he got started. Forrest walked with purpose, from one end of the yard to the other. I had him outside for 20-30 minutes every day, and he walked around most of that time. 
Forrest digging a hole
Forrest digging a hole. Under the old swing set, there is a bit of mulch. Forrest burrowed into the mulch a few times, digging down quickly to make a little pit. He seemed to enjoy the dirt and the smells.
Forrest climbing into the area under the swing set
Forrest climbing into the area under the swing set. One of my favorite things to watch was Forrest climbing into the mulch area. His stubby back legs pushed on tippy toes until his flat stomach leveled out on top, then his front legs pulled everything forward until his back feet touched again.
Forrest's belly
Forrest’s beautiful yellow belly.
Forrest hiding under the garden plants
Forrest under the garden plants as the sprinkler passes over.
Forrest in the mulch.
Forrest in the mulch.
Forrest looking out his tank by the window.
Forrest looking out his tank by the window. His food bowl full in the foreground. 

 

Forrest kicked me into action. Or maybe it was that he saved me from action. There was something about his situation, about his life, that settled on me. Something that nudged me to try different things, to add new things to my routine.

I did some research to learn what else I could feed him to liven up his life. I brought him a grape, apple bits, arugula, spinach, romaine, carrots. I also learned that box turtles are slow crawlers, slow growers, give birth to few offspring, and are extremely long lived–yet the species is vulnerable due to death by agricultural machinery and cars. I learned a new word: ANTHROPOGENIC or human-induced mortality, as in what’s happening to the world’s species and environments because of human overpopulation.

I can sometimes see Forrest in his tank next door when I take our stairs, but the light has to be right and he can’t be hiding under his bridge or astroturf. I hope he enjoyed those eleven days. I did.

Heading Home

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Waiting for the ferry on Paros. These shoes were made for walking the world.
Us. Waiting for the ferry on Paros. 

The day had come. We were heading home. This was the final leg of our around-the-world trip.

We took a nearly-five-hour, non-stop Blue Star Ferry from Paros back to Athens at 10:45 a.m. We spent the time on the ferry reading, downloading photos, writing, and staring out the window. Our long-dreamed-about trip around-the-world was coming to an end. And we wondered, what’s next?

Back in Athens

We arrived in Athens on time, and checked into the same hotel, the Acropolis View Hotel. After freshening up, we went for an evening walk around the Acropolis and to find some dinner. We said “hey” to Boss the dog, sleeping inside the closed gates of the Acropolis. We dined at “God’s”—high expectations with a name like that–and filled up on delicious risotto-stuffed tomatoes, fava, and wine.

On the morning we left, we used the last of our traveling coffee packets, and sat out on our balcony, soaking up the sun and staring at the Parthenon. It’s tenacity seemed a fitting ending to our trip, and a reminder of home for us Nashvillians.

A panorama of Athens and the Acropolis. Greece.
A panorama of Athens and the Acropolis. Greece.

 

And then, we flew home:  ATH – LHR – ORD

First, we had a taxi ride with Michael to the airport. The car windows were down and open to the sunny sea air, and the Foo Fighters, ACDC, Supertramp blared from the stereo. Everlong will forever remind me of flying through foreign streets:  “…If everything could ever feel this real forever, If anything could ever be this good again…”

The four-hour British Airways flight left Athens at 1:30 p.m. BA ran out of vegetarian meals by the time they got to my seat. And because one passenger on board had a peanut allergy, no snacks with nuts were being sold and we were asked not to eat the peanut M&Ms we’d brought onboard either. BA also charged for water, payable by credit card only. And with that, British Airways officially became the least favorite of all the airlines we’d flown around the world.

It was a brief stop in London, and as we got to the gate on this dark, rainy night, we were asked some strange U.S. immigration questions before boarding the American Airlines flight. It was nine hours to ORD–plenty of time for a meal, a movie (the tearjerker, “Coco”), some reading, and some quiet time to reflect on our trip. We landed at O’Hare around 7:30 p.m., and were back at home by 9 p.m. We’d gone all the way around this big old world! It was good to be home. And yet, I’d go again in a heartbeat.

Around the world

  • 28,000+ miles
  • 6 countries, plus 4 more touched in transit
  • Our 7th (and 8th!) continent

Big planes, little planes, scenic rails, overnight trains, taxis, buses, bicycle rickshaws, remorks, tuk-tuks, small boats, big ferries, and miles of walking. From glaciers on the 8th Continent to the Great Barrier Reef, to the Taj Mahal and Angkor Wat, to Mt. Everest and the Parthenon…here’s to all the sunrises and sunsets, smiles, laughs, beautiful animals, crazy sights, tasty meals, and Nescafe along the way.

Leaving on our around-the-world trip, waiting for the el to O'Hare. Chicago.
Leaving for our around-the-world trip; waiting for the el to O’Hare. Chicago.
All that can't leave behind fit into two carry-on bags each.
All that we couldn’t leave behind fit into two carry-on bags each.
Boarding the train in New Zealand.
Boarding the train in New Zealand.
Bryan and a waterfall on the hike to Franz Josef Glacier, New Zealand.
Bryan and a waterfall on the hike to Franz Josef Glacier, New Zealand.
Carol photographing the Franz Josef Glacier, New Zealand.
Carol photographing the Franz Josef Glacier, New Zealand.
“Vegemite! It’s real!” Bryan in Australia.
Flying to Lady Elliot Island in the Great Barrier Reef. Australia.
Flying to Lady Elliot Island in the Great Barrier Reef. Australia.
A mama turtle returns to the ocean after laying eggs all night on Lady Elliot Island, Australia.
A mama turtle returns to the ocean after laying eggs all night on Lady Elliot Island, Australia.
Us at Angkor Wat, Cambodia.
Us at Angkor Wat, Cambodia.
Carol gets a blessing at Ta Prohm, Cambodia.
Carol gets a blessing at Ta Prohm, Cambodia.
With a tree at Angkor Wat, Cambodia.
With a tree at Angkor Wat, Cambodia.
Bryan on the Mekong. Cambodia.
Bryan on the Mekong. Cambodia.
Us at the Taj Mahal. Agra, India.
Us at the incredible Taj Mahal. Agra, India.
Bryan, Carol, and Carina in a tuk tuk going to Orchha. India.
Bryan, Carol, and Carina in a tuk tuk going to Orchha. India.
Happy Holi! Orchha, India.
Happy Holi! Orchha, India.
Carol on the overnight train to Varanasi, India.
Carol on the overnight train to Varanasi, India.
“Pardon me”, Bryan and a cow in Varanasi, India.
Us at sunrise in the Himalayas. Nepal.
Us at sunrise in the Himalayas. Nepal.
Bryan taking the bus down from Sarangkot, in the Annapurna Range, Nepal.
Bryan taking the bus down from Sarangkot, in the Annapurna Range, Nepal.
Mt. Everest from the air. Nepal.
Mt. Everest from the air. Nepal.
On the road to Kathmandu. Nepal.
On the road to Kathmandu. Nepal.
Us at the real Parthenon. Athens, Greece.
Us at the real Parthenon. Athens, Greece.
Bryan and the old dog of Lefkes. Paros, Greece.
Bryan and the old soul of Lefkes. Paros, Greece.
In the travel poster view. Santorini, Greece.
In the travel poster view. Santorini, Greece.

 

Thank you for reading

Select photos from our trip are available on Etsy.

Finally, if you liked this post and would like to stay in touch, please…

 

Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted photographer and blogger living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com.

Details and patterns

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Details make patterns.  Choices make habits.  Imagining makes art.  Believing makes seeing.

It’s been a while since I went out to wander and photograph just for the sake of wandering and photographing.  It felt good:  stretching my legs, stretching my imagination and shaking off this long strange summer.  This was the weekend at Open House Chicago 2016.

Sandstone held to a bell tower with metal band-aids and hair nets.  The bell tower survived the Great Fire in 1871, and still wears the blackened crown to prove it.  Saint James Episcopal Cathedral.

Six red galeros, hats of dead bishops, streaming from the ceiling of Holy Name Cathedral.  Hanging high behind the crucifix carved from one large piece of balsam wood, they wait for the day they collapse to dust and nothingness and return to the ground.

Ornate chandeliers are turned down low to let the stained glass windows tell their bible stories  in the 2nd floor chapel of Saint James Chapel at Archbishop Quigley Center.

Ivy climbs and clings to the detail on the Fourth Presbyterian Church on Michigan Avenue, in the morning shadow of the Hancock.  And in this church, at long last we get to go upstairs to the balcony…and there’s a pipe organ, gentle at first and then lighting up the guests with a loud pounce.

The 5th place was an art house in an old mansion.  Giant windows, rimmed in dark wood.  Pocket doors and white marble fireplaces in every room.  Studios for rent and live models seven days a week.  An open studio on the 3rd floor smelled of oil paint as I rounded the final set of stairs up.  The old floors were for dancing when this was a home and this level housed a ballroom. Now the wood floors showed wear from drops of paint as artists made their art.  At this moment, they were sans model, but they worked as if she were still there.  An imaginary model.  Cross breezes fluffed papers from the transom windows along the floor where the band used to sit.

The Monroe Building, with Rookwood tiles, and tiles, and tiles, and a working mail chute for the 14-story building.  This building and the one across the street, on the north side of Monroe at Michigan stand like sentinels, equal sized gate posts, greeting traffic entering Chicago on what used to be the main thoroughfare.

The chapel in the sky at the Chicago Temple.  The highest place of worship above street level.  Twenty two floors via elevator, then A through E floors via a cozy elevator, then 31 steps up to this tiny little Sky Chapel.  Stained glass windows line the room and limit views of the sky and the surrounding city.  The wood is ash, preserved forever from the Emerald Ash Borers that have killed so many trees in the Midwest.

Bell Tower details St. James Episcopal Cathedral
Sandstone held to a bell tower with metal band-aids and hair nets. The bell tower survived the Great Fire in 1871, and still wears the blackened crown to prove it. Saint James Episcopal Cathedral.
Holy Name Cathedral galeros
Six red galeros, hats of dead bishops, streaming from the ceiling of Holy Name Cathedral. Hanging high behind the crucifix carved from one large piece of balsam wood, they wait for the day they collapse to dust and nothingness and return to the ground.
Saint James Chapel at Archbishop Quigley Center stained glass windows
Ornate chandeliers are turned down low to let the stained glass windows tell their bible stories in the 2nd floor chapel of Saint James Chapel at Archbishop Quigley Center.

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Fourth Presbyterian Church ivy
Ivy climbs and clings to the detail on the Fourth Presbyterian Church on Michigan Avenue
Fourth Presbyterian Church Michigan Avenue
The pipe organ rings out at the Fourth Presbyterian Church on Michigan Avenue
Marble fireplace detail Palette & Chisel
Marble fireplace mantel detail from Palette & Chisel.

 

palette & chisel live model art studio
Palette & Chisel artists taking a break in the 3rd floor ballroom studio
palette and chisel chicago model art studio
Palette & Chisel: Imagination.
Monroe Building Chicago rook wood tiles
The Monroe Building, with Rookwood tiles, and tiles, and tiles. Muted earth tones in the foyer, just waiting to wow you when you go through those doors.
The Monroe Building Rookwood details make patterns
The Monroe Building, with Rookwood tiles, and tiles, and tiles.
The Chapel in the Sky Chicago Temple
The chapel in the sky at the Chicago Temple. The wood is ash, preserved forever from the Emerald Ash Borers that have killed so many trees in the Midwest.
Stenciling on ceiling of Chicago Temple
Chicago Temple ceiling stenciling.

Now and Then – Ravenswood Gardens, Chicago

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Fifteen brick structures mark the entrance to the streets of this 100+ year-old neighborhood near the river. These sentinels stand in pairs, trios or quartets along Rockwell between Montrose and the el tracks at Rockwell. Some have planters on top, others a concrete ball resembling a bed knob. They mark the streets of Ravenswood Gardens, a community planned in 1909 by William Harmon. Photographed on film with a Seagull and a Rolleicord.   Now and Then – Ravenswood Gardens, Chicago

Details…They don’t make them like they used to!

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At this year’s Open House Chicago, sponsored by the Chicago Architecture Foundation, I went to see the interiors of buildings not normally open to the public.  And what struck me most were the rich details…the ornate little extras, little treats for the eyes built in to the old spaces.

Whatever happened to those days of craftsmanship?  When those little flourishes mattered?   Now it seems that buildings are mundane.  Character has disappeared in favor of efficiency, productivity, mass production and bottom lines.

Nope.  They don’t make ’em like they used to!

Staircase spiral steps chicago motor club
In the Chicago Motor Club building (now a Hampton Inn), there is the muraled map of the old U.S. highways and parks, some exquisite– picture grandma’s-silver –detail around the elevators, and a wavy curve to the staircase in that same smooth silver.
Union Carbide hard rock virgin old dearborn bank building
A view of the Union Carbide Building (built in 1929, now the Hard Rock Hotel), supposedly built to resemble a champagne bottle with gold foil at the top…as seen from the Old Dearborn Bank Building (built in 1928, now the Virgin Hotel).
oriental palace theater chicago
Built in 1926, this place is lusciously FULL of ornaments…Isis, seahorses, cats, jesters, plush red seats and elaborate lanterns and chandeliers.
Chicago model miniature
An accurately scaled model of Chicago made in plastic…right down to the Bean.
Elevator floor indicator santa fe building chicago
Elevator floor indicator in the building that houses the Chicago Architecture Foundation.
Fine arts building elevator chicago
The Fine Arts Building elevator…still manually operated, with a grated door and up/down bulbs, these elevators make the smoothest sound.
stairwell fine arts building chicago
Practicing violins, pianos and voices echo through the stairwell of this old building, still an artists community, just as the Chicago’s Fine Arts Building was meant to be.
lyre banister knob stairwell fine arts building chicago
Well worn and appropriately detailed banister knobs in the stairwell of the Fine Arts Building in Chicago.
File Gumbo fiddle violin maker
At the William Harris Lee & Company stringed instrument shop in the Fine Arts Building Chicago. Seeing these workstations where violins, violas, cellos, and stand-up basses are lovingly carved and brought to life was a highlight of the day! And who knew that a little File Gumbo spice is built-in?
violins cellos whlee stringed instrument makers
At W.H. Lee & Company, Violins, Violas and Cellos wait. Fine Arts Building in Chicago.

Sailing Lake Michigan on the Tall Ship HMS Bounty

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Sailing Lake Michigan on the tall ship, The HMS Bounty – August 2010

Lately, we’ve been a little obsessed with tall ships–the beauty of the sails and the awe of the masts’ heights. So, we booked passage on a tall ship as it made it’s way to Chicago for the Tall Ships Parade and festival. Our ship was the HMS Bounty. The Bounty was built in the 60s for “Mutiny on the Bounty”. It also had a part in the “Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest”.

 

Getting to the HMS Bounty

Our journey began on Sunday, August 22, 2010. We loaded up the backpacks and took the el into the loop, walking over to Union Station. We had tickets on Amtrak’s Hiawatha Express to Milwaukee. The Bounty was currently in Port Washington, WI and we were to meet her there.

We had to stop first to see the Great Hall at Union Station, famous to us from the scene in the Untouchables where Kevin Costner and Andy Garcia get Capone’s accountant and save the baby in the carriage during the shoot out. Such a Great Hall it is too. I wish the days of train travel were still just as cool as that Hall reminds us.

$22 one way/each. And packed to the gills on this Sunday afternoon. The ride was only an hour and a half, past the rail yards and the loop, into the suburbs, and with just a glimpse of the midwestern prairie before reentering Milwaukee’s suburbs.

Next step was to find transportation to Port Washington. Bryan negotiated $50 for a cab to take us there…only about 30 miles north. Arrived at the quaint little town on a crisp, sunny day around 3:30 in the afternoon. Stopped for a drink and a bite at a pub sitting just above the little festival. And there they were…the masts of the Tall Ships sticking up above everything else in the harbor.

HMS Bounty docked in Port Washington WI
HMS Bounty docked in Port Washington WI

On board the HMS Bounty:

The lady on the front of the HMS Bounty
The lady on the front of the HMS Bounty
HMS Bounty information
HMS Bounty information

We boarded, met some of the crew and got the introduction to life on board the Bounty. The crew works 2 shifts per day…broken into 4 hour increments. 12-4, 4-8 and 8-12. AM or PM, doesn’t matter, you work 12a-4a and again noon-4pm. We got the 8-12 shifts, though not required to do them seeing as how we’d paid $125/night per person and brought our own bedding to be aboard.

HMS Bounty crew only sign
HMS Bounty crew only sign
First night aboard The Bounty
First night aboard The Bounty
Spiders sailing on the Bounty
Spiders sailing on the Bounty

The captain began prepping for departure in the morning on Monday, 8/23. He started by quizzing the crew on “how would we sail out of here…no motor?” We were docked between 2 other ships and the wind was light, but in the wrong direction vs what we needed. Lots of debate and discussion about the location of the anchor, the direction of the sails, and the ruddering to avoid the dock, the other ships and squeezing through the breakers.

Captain Robin Walbridge, "how would we sail out of here, no motor?"
Captain Robin Walbridge, “how would we sail out of here, no motor?”

Anchor up and sails down around noon as we pulled out of the harbor. The crew climbed the ropes and unfurled the sails from high above deck. “Ease Out and Haul Away!” “Two. Six. Two. Six.” “Don’t give any back.”

Rigging on the Bounty
Rigging on the Bounty

Miles and miles of rope, reaching up to the sails and wrapped around pegs on deck. There’s a special way to coil the ropes so that they are “belayed”–neatly stowed, but ready to go. I heard terms like mizen, bosun (the boatswain, responsible for the rigging), mainsail (said man-sail). I watched people tie-off knots and climb like monkeys up the rigging and then stand like tight-rope artists on a rope while folding and unfolding sails.

The tall sails of the HMS Bounty
The tall sails of the HMS Bounty
Bryan on the rigging of the HMS Bounty
Bryan on the rigging of the HMS Bounty

And holy cow…what a gorgeous sight when those buttery yellow sails came down and caught the wind! The sheer height of them stretching into the blue sky and catching the sun behind them so that only rays peered around. They covered the ship in shade. Life got quiet once we sailed. Work began on tarring the ropes and finishing a yard.

I sat in the sun–staring up at the sails and snapping away. Bryan got harnessed up and climbed the ropes into the crow’s nest. A long peaceful day of sailing–quiet, breezey, and a warming sun.

Bryan coming down the rigging on the Bounty
Bryan coming down the rigging on the Bounty
Bryan relaxing on the Bounty
Bryan relaxing on the Bounty
Carol on deck, taken by Bryan up in the rigging of the Bounty
Carol on deck, taken by Bryan up in the rigging of the Bounty
The deck of the Bounty
The deck of the Bounty
The wheel, deck and sails of the Bounty
The wheel, deck and sails of the Bounty

Golden Hour was about the best ever. The golden orange on the wooden deck floors, the passing colors over the parchment and butter sails. The moon rising in a baby blue sky. A Maxfield Parrish sky as the green sailing lights were lit beneath the sails. The white of the sails against the darkening blue sky as the crew climbed up to lower the royals for the night. Magic. Just magic.

Moon rise over Lake Michigan
Moon rise over Lake Michigan
Sailing in a Maxfield Parrish evening
Sailing in a Maxfield Parrish evening
HMS Bounty during golden hour
HMS Bounty during golden hour
The Bounty
The Bounty
Night sailing aboard The Bounty
Night sailing aboard The Bounty

That evening, we took a juice with our flask of rum and had a nip. And slept like babies with the gentle rocking of the boat, with the rum and the day of sun easing us to sleep.

I should mention Dina and the galley. This woman cooks 3 meals a day in a galley where everything moves. She made bacon, waffles, eggs, roast pork, etc. over the 2 days we were there. Delicious food. Everyone washes their own plates. Those on duty pass the line and someone else washes for them. Coffee is always available.

I awoke before dawn. Dark and cold on deck. Red, safety lights lighting the galley and the navigation shed on deck. It was a cloudy morning, trying to spit some rain. Fortunately for us, it never mustered the strength and the day turned into another sunny, cooler day.

Early morning on deck of the HMS Bounty
Early morning on deck of the HMS Bounty

Today, we watched as the crew hung the yard on the stern mast. A process that took over an hour, with 3 crew members up in the rigging.

As we entered the Chicago area around 1:30, we could see Evanston, and then the skyscrapers of downtown Chicago. The crew was getting excited…some of them had never been to a city this size before.

Bryan up in the rigging again
Bryan up in the rigging again
Bryan up in the rigging again
Bryan up in the rigging again
Bryan
Bryan
Hello Chicago!
Hello Chicago!
Sailing into Chicago
Bryan works the sails on the HMS Bounty as it sails into Chicago

Arrival in Chicago and the Tall Ship Parade:

Small boats approached us–“Welcome!” they’d shout and snap some pictures of the giant Bounty. As we entered the Chicago area proper, more tall ships arrived too…as did more small sailing boats and motor boats and coast guard and police and fire boats. Everyone who had a boat appeared to be in the area between 2-5p as the tall ships arrived. We tooled around waiting for all the tall ships to arrive so we could line up for the 4 p.m. Parade into Navy Pier.

A gilligan boat brought 3 “media” guys to the Bounty to do stories. They had trouble getting close enough to climb up and over. But finally made it. One guy came with a 1960 National Geographic and asked about the original nail from the original Bounty that was supposed to be on ship somewhere. Jesse calmly and without drama told the guy that the nail was in the scrapyard. Broke his heart, that did.

It was crazy crowded in the water. The Coast Guard and Police boats had megaphones and kept announcing “PLEASE STAY 100 YARDS AWAY FROM THE TALL SHIPS”. Still, some sailboats passed dangerously close–perhaps not realizing that we could not turn or stop quickly enough to avoid hitting them if something happened. It’s amazing how many boats were around us–and how many of them I snapped taking pictures of us.

Around 4, we began lining up. Our Bounty was the finale, behind the Flagship Niagra. We sailed into the breakers and past a crowded Navy Pier. Ships firing whatever “cannons” they had on board in a salute to Chicago. And the Chicago Fire Department boat giving us a water cannon salute as we turned and headed back out of the breakers to drop sails. Really proud moments…the city looked beautiful, the ships were amazing and seeing this all from the deck of the best ship of them all was too much! 🙂

Parade of Tall Ships in Chicago
Parade of Tall Ships in Chicago
Photo by Dan Kasberger - 8/24/10: HMS Bounty II with full sails on Lake Michigan near the Port of Chicago for the 2010 Great Lake Tall Ship Challenge. She sails no more. Strike the Bell slowly....
Photo by Dan Kasberger – 8/24/10: HMS Bounty II with full sails on Lake Michigan near the Port of Chicago for the 2010 Great Lake Tall Ship Challenge. 
Tall Ship Pride of Baltimore
Tall Ship Pride of Baltimore
Tall Ship Schooner Roseway
Tall Ship Schooner Roseway

We motored around while the sails were furled, and then we entered the breakers again as the sun was going down, and made our way over to our dock on the North side of Navy Pier. I heard the Navy Pier dock crew ask over the radio if we needed a guiding boat to dock. The Bounty captain politely declined. As did Niagra. We motored past the lighthouse as the light turned it pink.

Chicago Lighthouse
Chicago Lighthouse
Crew going up to furl the sails
Crew going up to furl the sails
Carol on the HMS Bounty
Carol on the HMS Bounty
The Bounty crew furls the sails
The Bounty crew furls the sails
Furling the sails
Furling the sails
Chicago Fire Department's water cannon salute
Chicago Fire Department’s water cannon salute

Again, people welcomed us and clapped from the dock. The crew threw ropes over so the little navy kids could catch them and tie us off. The docking process took maybe 20-30 minutes as we eased into the space and tied off. Bryan exited quickly…he was already nearly 2 hours late for work. I left about 30 minutes later. I turned in the near dark to take one last photo of the Bounty resting at dock.

Navy Pier welcomes The Bounty
Navy Pier welcomes The Bounty
Goodbye Bounty
Goodbye Bounty

POSTSCRIPT 10/30/12: She sails no more. Strike the Bell slowly….

On 25 October 2012, to avoid Hurricane Sandy, the Bounty left New London, Connecticut, heading for St. Petersburg, Florida. “A ship is safer at sea,” wrote Captain Robin Walbridge. Initially the Bounty was going on an easterly course to avoid Hurricane Sandy. Later, the ship would turn towards the category II hurricane, which was not turning towards land as had been expected. According to crew, The Bounty was motor sailing—using engines and sails. “We were moving as fast as I’ve ever seen the boat move under power,” said shipmate Faunt. “We worked those engines hard.” Waves grew to 20 feet, wind was gusting at 70 mph and it took two people to hold the wheel.

The initial request for Coast Guard assistance was sent in an email by the captain to the vessel’s organization. At about 8:45 p.m. EDT on 10/28, the organization relayed the request to the Coast Guard about Bounty’s situation. The ship was taking on water, had lost electrical power due to water flooding the starboard generator, and the crew was preparing to abandon ship. Some of the 16 people on board had been injured from being thrown about by the crashing waves.

The C-130 rescue plane had equipment outages on its rescue flight, including its anti-icing system and its weather radar, and because of the turbulence caused by the Hurricane, the crew was sick. Because of the poor visibility conditions, the pilots conducted the search at approximately 500 feet in an attempt to locate the vessel visually. Shortly after midnight on 29 October, the Bounty was discovered. “I see a giant pirate ship in the middle of a hurricane.”

Photo from Wikipedia - 10/29/12: Bounty with decks awash in the Atlantic Ocean during Hurricane Sandy shortly before sinking approximately 90 miles southeast of Hatteras, North Carolina.
Photo from Wikipedia – 10/29/12: Bounty with decks awash in the Atlantic Ocean during Hurricane Sandy shortly before sinking approximately 90 miles southeast of Hatteras, North Carolina.

Bounty was listing at about a 45 degree angle on its starboard side. The plane dropped life-rafts but had to leave the vessel and crew on their own in rough seas and 58 mph winds because they ran low on fuel. It would be more than an hour until the first Jayhawk helicopter arrived to begin the dangerous rescue attempt around dawn. The storm had washed the captain and two crew overboard—one of the latter had made it to a life-raft, but the other two were missing. Claudene Christian, one of the two missing crew members and who claimed to be related to HMS Bounty mutineer Fletcher Christian, was found by the Coast Guard. She was unresponsive, and later pronounced dead at a hospital. The other missing crew member was long-time captain, Robin Walbridge.

A formal investigation into the sinking concluded that Captain Walbridge’s decision to sail the ship into the path of Hurricane Sandy was the cause, a “reckless decision”. The ship had persistent problems with leakage, “bondo Bounty” some would say. But the ship was considered to be “in the best shape of her life” in October 2012. Walbridge had tempted fate before. In each instance, some combination of bravado, skill, and luck had returned the ship home safely.

Captain Robin Walbridge’s body was never found.

Chicago to Amman

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Jordan, Israel, and Palestine = September 28 – October 18, 2008

The Holy Land. The Land of Milk and

Honey. Jerusalem, Gethsemane, Bethlehem, Petra, Mt. Nebo, The Promised Land, and the Dead Sea. Religious stories, history, and politics all in one tightly-wound place.

Chicago to Amman, Sunday, September 28, 2008

We began talking about this trip a year ago. Despite that, the details came together rather late. The day of our departure, I was still making arrangements. I didn’t even begin packing until a few hours before we left for the airport.

Belle and the backpacks
Belle and the backpacks

We were nervous about this trip. The “Holy Land” brought to mind images of stone throwing, skeletons of blasted buses, and bleeding, crying people stumbling from bombed-out buildings. Add to that the fact that our economy was crashing–everyday there was news of another bank failing, another dismal Dow day, another company laying off thousands of workers. Plus this was one of those trips we call a “working vacation”: a location requiring mental and physical exertion…a very different culture, hiking, climbing, and two languages each with their own alphabets and reading right-to-left.

We packed light in two new backpacks–4 pairs of pants, 8 shirts, a rain jacket, a fleece, the Blackberry now enabled as a phone–to keep in touch with calls and with a new app called Twitter…”just in case”, 2 cameras, a video camera and lots of memory cards. I even left the film camera behind…a first for me! Our packs *together* weighed only 22 kg.

The Royal Jordanian flight left Chicago around 9 p.m. on Saturday night from the International Terminal. The area before security bustled with activity–bars, restaurants and shopping. On the other side of security, it was eerily quiet and empty. We bought big bottles of water for the ride and walked the long hallways. A man knelt quietly in a corner performing his prayers towards Mecca. A woman with everything but her face covered walked with a little girl dressed in a short frilly pink dress and a miniature head scarf.

About 10 TSA agents were on duty at the gate–scrutinizing each and every passenger. No pleasantries, no smiles, just a hard stare at your face, your baggage, your every move–some people were motioned over for a carry-on bag search. It took a long time to board the plane. And it was full. Overhead bins stuffed to the max, many seats filled with moms holding children in their laps.

We pulled away from the gate around 9:30 p.m. and drove slowly to the runway. The old plane took its time picking up speed and lifting off…and then took a scary amount of time to elevate. It would be 12 hours before we landed in Amman.

The plane was old–small, shared screens showed a few movies, exercise videos, and the occasional flight map to tell everyone where we were. The flight map always started with a diagram of the location of Mecca’s Kaaba in relation to the plane. We were served dinner shortly after take-off. And we settled into seats 8A & 8B with our neck pillows, water, and things to read. Lap children were laid out to sleep across their parents on the seat-back tray tables. Because it was Ramadan and we had only had a few hours of night, Ramadan fasters were offered another meal just before we passed into daylight again. The flight attendants asked in both Arabic and English, “Are you going to fast?”

The night and day flight passed slowly. Reading. Sore eyes. Headache. Getting up to stand for a bit. Dozing. Saw bits of the 3 movies: the new Indiana Jones, Leatherheads and a Jackie Chan movie. And finally, we began the descent. I opened the window shade to see white houses in the red brown earth of Israel and Jordan.

We landed around 5 p.m. in Amman. Paid our 10 JD (1 Jordanian Dinar is ~$1.40 U.S.) to get our Visas, waited an eternity for our bags and finally–headed out to meet our ride.

Jordan visa
Jordan visa
chicago to amman
chicago to amman
Jordan flag
Jordan flag

Chicago to Reykjavik: and Hurricane Floyd!

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ICELAND!  IRELAND! 

“Why Iceland?” was the question we heard most. There was something about the isolation, the hardiness and raw beauty of the place that intrigued us. Glaciers, massive waterfalls, volcanos, fjords and green grass. Would we see the Northern Lights?

And then a return to Ireland–Carol’s 7th trip to beloved Eire. Green grass, fresh air, mist, music (ceol agus craic), and that special something that is in the nooks and crannies of Dublin. Slainte!

The route: Iceland to Ireland
The route: Iceland to Ireland, via Baltimore Minneapolis and London…

Chicago to Reykjavik and Hurricane Floyd!

We awoke on the morning of our long awaited journey…to find that Hurricane Floyd was pummeling it’s way up the East coast.  We were scheduled to fly from Chicago to Baltimore on Southwest and then to Iceland.

Hurricane Floyd map
Hurricane Floyd on September 16, our departure date.

But Floyd was expected to hit full gale in Baltimore about the time our flight was to land there. The Chicago to Baltimore flight was cancelled, and we expected the IcelandAir flight to Reykjavik from Baltimore to be in the same situation (though they told us they couldn’t confirm cancellation until after 2pm–which meant we couldn’t swap departure cities until the first flight canceled.)  Since we were booked in one-nighters all the way around Iceland, missing the planned date of arrival was like yanking the table cloth off of a fully-dressed table.

I spent the morning on the phone with United, American, Southwest, and IcelandAir trying to re-route us through Minneapolis. After a tense 3 hours of being on hold with nerve-racking music, watching the Weather Channel (also nerve-wracking music), hoping that Floyd would just up and blow away, throwing last minute things in the suitcase, chewing my nails, and speaking with over three dozen people across 6 airlines, I ultimately used air miles and spent another $500 on airfare…and got it worked out. Now, we’d leave the U.S. on IcelandAir via Minneapolis. The connection to Minneapolis on American would leave Chicago in just 2 hours!

Holy Cow! I’ve been on the phone all morning–still needed a shower and to do the final packing. It was an intense hour…passport, undies, socks, film, camera, tops & bottoms, toothbrush…Hug the dogs, turn out the lights.

We made it with little time to spare. Barely time to get to the gate.

Landing in Minneapolis, Bryan comments “We’re gonna make it after all” in that sing-songy voice of the Mary Tyler Moore show…Immediately lifting the day’s stress…we’re going to ICELAND!

Minneapolis to Reykjavik
The IcelandAir ticket is confirmed and we board for the 5 hour 40 minute flight to Iceland. And there’s a 5 hour time difference.

I noted in my journal that the sky was “Maxfield Parrish blues”, with tons of stars and crisp light. Thin clouds below us, water below that. Sunlight on the fringe of the horizon.

“You’re gonna make it after all….”