Showing posts with label Marlys Marshall Styne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marlys Marshall Styne. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Old Postcard Wednesday--The Stevens Hotel, Chicago, Illinois




In its August 2006 issue,
Chicago Magazine featured a fascinating and surprising three-page article on the history of the Stevens Hotel that included these tidbits of information:

Only a few years after J. W. Stevens opened his grand Michigan Avenue hotel, the Depression devastated his family, inducing a series of calamities that included suicide, bankruptcy, and criminal charges. But from the debacle of the Stevens Hotel (now Chicago Hilton and Towers) emerged a young man who today, at 86, sits on the U.S. Supreme Court. . .

When the Stevens Hotel opened in 1927, the news papers wrote of a new Versailles rising on South Michigan Avenue. The colossal building soared 28 stories and occupied an entire city block between Seventh and Eighth streets. With 3,000 guest rooms, it was the biggest hotel in the world-and possibly the most opulent...

No one had seen anything quite like it before. Yet, just five years after the first two guests-Vice President Charles G. Dawes of the United States and President Gerardo Machado of Cuba-registered, the Stevens Hotel plunged into a disaster as grand as its founders' ambitions. The hotel went bankrupt, and the State of Illinois charged its owners with financial corruption. . .

Few, if any, of the thousands who pass through the cavernous Chicago Hilton and Towers, as the Stevens is called today, know the dramatic episode of Chicago history that unfolded there. But it is not just the tale of a gaudy Jazz Age venture laid low by the Depression. It is also the story of a remarkable Chicago family-a family that paid dearly when its reach exceeded its grasp, but attained new heights in the next generation. The youngest Stevens heir was seven years old when the hotel opened, and barely a teenager as the business crumbled around him. But John Paul Stevens would go on to become a justice of the Supreme Court of the United States, the office he still holds at the age of 86. . .

As mentioned in the above article The Stevens Hotel is now the Hilton Chicago, with a AAA rating of four diamonds. The official website here shows a photo of the front of the hotel, looking quite unchanged from the postcard. But times -- and Chicago along with them -- have definitely changed..........


New to the Chicago skyline is The Clare at Water Tower. This "first-of-its-kind, high-rise senior living community is situated on the Loyola University Chicago Water Tower campus in Chicago's Gold Coast," and its first residents moved in this week.

Marlys Marshall Styne, the author of two blogs, was among them. Her latest post at Never too Late! is a stark and honest expression of her life-changing decision to buy her new apartment home at The Clare, and the personal financial logistics involved in keeping with her plans during this economic recession. Still, true to form, Marlys ends on a note of gratitude and hopefulness. Readers thinking about making plans for their own senior years, or involved in the process of doing so for their parents, might gain from reading the pros and cons of such a move as outlined by Marlys in her previous blog posts on the topic. They might also look forward to her future posts at her writing blog -- Write Your Life! -- in which she'll be reporting on her efforts to encourage other residents at The Clare to write.

This panoramic view of Chicago is taken from the 53rd floor of The Clare, with its bird's eye view of the Stevens Hotel/Hilton Chicago situated across the street from Grant Park some two miles away.

For the rest of my life when I hear or read something about Grant Park the scene below is what I'll think of. (I can't be sure if The Stevens Hotel/Hilton Chicago and The Clare are in this photo.) My heart was there that evening, as it will be in Washington D.C. less than a week from now. By the time next Old Postcard Wednesday rolls around President Barack Obama will be in office on the job.
















Tribune photo by Chris Walker/November 4, 2008
Grant Park
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Sunday, June 8, 2008

Old Oak - August 2007

I'm trying something scary and different by posting one of my poems.

There were years in my past when I wrote lots of them, and most are quite mediocre. But when I read through them they serve as a looking glass into my troubled, searching-for-love teen and young adult years. They mirror the firecracker creativity fueled by alcohol in my early days of drinking. Later, they are a gasp of sick ego and longing for wholeness as alcoholism grabbed hold of my life. Finally, from the tender healing of early sobriety, they manifest a sigh...and then they stopped all together. I have speculation but no explanation for this: I wrote a poem for Mike to celebrate our wedding in 1995 and after that no more poetry came. Not until last August when this one did, and none since.

I want to acknowledge Marlys Marshall Styne who delights with her rictameters at Write Your Life!, and for advocating "writing for everyone." How empowering is that?! I ordered her book, Reinventing Myself - Memoirs of a Retired Professor from Amazon.com and it arrived this weekend. I'm anxious to read it after seeing the table of contents.


I'm not going to over-think these poems of mine, for which poetry review have a different meaning. On a personal level they really are a review of key stages of my life, mostly brazen vestiges of a careless past. Not the easiest things for me to review, let's say. Depending upon how this particular foray into sharing the most recent one goes, I might select more of those old poems to post. Or not.


Old Oak - August 2007

You sprawling giant

gave up one bough near

targets too precious and sealed your fate there

on the hill beside a middle school parking lot

that borders the soccer field where once stood

the acorn-bearing community you grew with 300 years ago.

The twisted limb you let loose after a gentle summer rain was greater than

trunks of the 100-year-old oaks growing on either side of the second soccer lawn

a block from the chipping machine that now sings with your branches.

It was an impressive, heavy bough full of green life

but your wound showed weakness inside despite the

smooth, tight-grained beauty of

these delicious-smelling logs

that must be

cleared quickly

before a new year of

history lessons take root.

(c) M Lydia M, 2007



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