The OId Homestead Is Not So Old

The suggested topic for the last week in March for #52Ancestors was The Old Homestead. My mind envisioned the shtetls of Europe or a farm or a ranch some where with lots of land or, even perhaps, a beautiful southern mansion. I knew that I might have had family living in a shtetl but, if so, I knew nothing about it. I knew names of towns in Romania in which they lived but nothing about HOW they lived.To the best of my knowledge none had lived on a farm, a ranch or in a mansion. Then I had a sudden realization. A new definition  for the homestead occurred to me. An Old Homestead was a place a family had lived for many years and many lifelong memories were built around life in that one place. the kind of memories one shares with their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, the kinds of experiences not available in today’s world, for the most part.That idea made it possible for me to have An Old Homestead. It was the apartment I lived in from the time I was three until I was married!

It was not in the country, it was not located in a small town. It was located in a small part of a big city. My Old Homestead is still located in the neighborhood of South Shore in the city of Chicago. For our family life in the Old Homestead began in about 1934. My parents were married in September of 1929. That date may sound familiar, that was a big month for most of America. It was really a disaster for those who lost a great deal and a disaster for those who could not find work of any kind. My parents did not fall into those categories. They had little, so there was nothing to loose. My dad was just starting out and was employed by a small law firm that managed to stay in existence. They were living in a small apartment when I was born in 1931. They rented a small house after that for, as the story goes, for two reasons. The first was the my brother, Michael, was on his way and the second was to see how the like living in a house as opposed to an apartment. Living in a house did not win. 

6846 Chappel Ave. in 2010

In, probably late 1934 or early 1935, my parents rented an apartment at 6846S.  Chappel Ave in South Shore area. The apartment was on the first floor and included one space in the detached two car garage and a nice yard off the alley. It had two nice size bedrooms and small bedroom, an unheated back room off of the master bedroom, 1 nice bathroom and 1 small bathroom near the back. A kitchen, of course, dining room and a living room. The could do laundry in the basement. The owners lived on the second floor and they changed several times while we lived there. My brothers and I went to O’Keeffe School and later Hyde Park High School. I was the first to move out. that was in December of 1953 when I married. My parents and both brothers moved to another apartment, still in South Shore, several years later.

That apartment was truly our Old Homestead. All of the important experiences of our young lives happened while we lived there. My maternal grandparents lived three blocks away and mom’s two brothers even were living there for awhile before they married. The school, O’Keeffe, was about two blocks away and we were walking distance from all our friends. At our exist from the school yard every afternoon Pete was waiting, standing at his white pull cart with every kind of candy would could want and/or get. Prices for these delicacies were between 1 cent and 10 cents.  That was when my life-long love affair with SNAPS (insert image) began. It is just last year that it was discontinued. There were long red licorice sticks and the small wax bottles filled with colored, flavored liquid. It was a day when you had a penny or a nickel to spend with Pete.

Open the door and down the shoot went the coal.

I do not believe my children, grandchildren, or great-grandchildren had or will have many of my childhood experiences.  I remember watching the milkman in his horse drawn cart, stop in the alley, and leave our bottles of milk and cream on the backdoor step. They would have been amazed by the knife sharpening man pull or push his cart or, later, ride his bicycle cart though the alley.  They have never known the sound of the bell or of hearing his voice as he let all know he was available to take care of their knives. The garbage man also came down the alley as did the ice man. Yep, how many of us around still remember the Ice Man. The ice man carried the ice with tongs and placed it in the appropriate box. Wish I could say I remember that clearly but I don’t. By 1940 many homes had refrigerators. I am not sure what year the shift occurred in my life. There is one other experience I do not believe the generations after mine experience.  On the side of the apartment building was a metal rectangular door with a very special purpose. This was the coal shoot. A very large truck would arrive and the coal would be dumped on the driveway. The driver and his assistant then shoveled the coal into the coal shoot. (insert image).

Future postings will provide more stories of life in the 30s, 40s and 50s at 68th and Chappel. It was wonderful growing up around My Old Homestead.