There is a building on my block that I frequently refer to as “the crack house.” It’s not that I know that drugs are sold there, or that any illegal activity goes on at all, but it always seems to be a bit shady. There’s a permanent plaque on the building advertising furnished rooms for rent and sketchy folks are always hanging around and out the windows.
So, the other day I was approaching the building and I saw 3 people outside of it standing on the corner. One was a scrawny, young girl with brown hair bleached out to a sick orangish yellow color. Her skirt was skintight and barely covering anything, her shirt the same. If there were any more cleavage showing it wouldn’t be a shirt anymore. If this girl was not a prostitute she was doing a damn good job impersonating one. She was standing in her stiletto heels talking to a middle-aged black man who looked like he was about one step above homelessness and was sitting on his bike. The third person in their group was what seems to be the hooker’s friend. Just as used up looking, but chubbier and with slightly more clothing on. The group, especially the women, look like they’ve just gotten done with a hard night of partying despite the fact that it’s 5:30 in the afternoon.
Three doors down from “the crack house” is a land marked building marked with the year it was built - 1883. On the other side of “the crack house” are two brand new, expensive condos. In the closest one lives a young family with two sons. I would estimate the boys’ ages to be 2 and 4 years old. Sometimes I feel for the family’s living situation.. like the time when I saw the mother walking with her sons past “the crack house” and the older boy stopped by some trash thrown on the lawn and bent down to reach and touch it. The mother had to quickly step over and scold him before he got his hands into something really nasty. This is just a small example of what I’m sure they have to deal with on a daily basis with “the crack house” as their neighbor.
So, this time when I was walking by the father of the family was watering the newly landscaped sliver of yard that is closest to the road. The hose was draped across the sidewalk and he was about 10 steps away from “the crack house” and the threesome that is gregariously talking outside of it. The father looked happy to be watering the brightly-colored flowers. I imagine his wife and kids inside preparing the family’s dinner.
A few paces ahead of me walking on the sidewalk was an old Polish woman. She was nicely dressed with a scarf on her head. She was walking slow, stooped over, almost in half. The father, who was watering the flowers, stopped to move the hose out of her way on the sidewalk. They exchanged very brief pleasantries. The father’s act of kindness, going out of the way to move a hose that could easily be stepped over, seemed ridiculous knowing that in 10 more steps she’d be walking past the littered lawn of “the crack house” and the shady characters that come with it.
And then there was me: A single 20-something woman breezing by the old lady, smiling at the father, and avoiding eye contact with the threesome. I was wearing a flowing skirt I’d just purchased at The Rack and listening to my iPod, thinking of the things I needed to get done that night. I didn’t represent the hipsters and I didn’t represent the yuppies. I was somewhere in the middle.
If only at that moment I had been carrying a burrito from one of our many local taquerias or if a car sporting the Puerto Rican flag and blasting music would have raced by to add some Latin flair, this would have been the perfect scene to capture the essence of Wicker Park. Historically land marked buildings that are beside brand new condos that are beside housing projects. An older Polish population rubs elbows with a large Hispanic population that mixes with families and hipsters. The rich and the poor and the in-between. We somehow all cohabitate.
15 responses so far ↓
1 JP.. // Jul 29, 2004 at 7:29 am
A perfect Chicago moment….
2 corie // Jul 29, 2004 at 9:06 am
In some senses, a NY moment, as well.
3 DM // Jul 29, 2004 at 11:27 am
It is a newer chicago moment. The neighborhood is only temporarily diversified. Chicago is very segregated if you really thing about it. Not NYC at ALL. In truth the neighborhood was once mainly of hispanic nature. But then it became “cool” to live there (probably why you are living their Rachelle). As a result, it’s a little diverse, new condos and bars, higher rent and way high property taxes, etc. As a result most of the people that grew up in Wicker Park and Bucktown are having no choice but to leave…they can’t afford to live there anymore. I grew up in Bucktown. My parents own a building (my grandparents building) for 40 plus years and are having to sell for this reason. It’s very sad. So don’t worry…the “crack house” won’t be there too much longer. They’ll get pushed out too.
4 cheekychk // Jul 29, 2004 at 12:57 pm
Also, not to quibble, but, if I think I have it right, you live south of Divison Street…which means that you would be in East Ukrainian Village, not Wicker Park. Same problems as DM said, though, so I guess it doesn’t matter…as a former East Village resident, though, I like to see it recognized and not just rolled into “Wicker Park”. Please ignore if you do live north of Divison.
5 rachelle // Jul 29, 2004 at 1:13 pm
yeh, i’m one block south. so to get technical i’m in the ukrainian village.. but one block? i identify more with wicker park.
6 cheekychk // Jul 29, 2004 at 1:23 pm
I understand. It’s just that you actually live in a different neighborhood, one that has it’s own character and issues and beautiful sites and great bits. It’d be nice to see that recognized as well. You actually had an nice East Village moment…I guess I just always want to stick up for that little neighborhood that no one ever mentions.
7 rachelle // Jul 29, 2004 at 1:53 pm
yeh, i gotcha
if people ask me where i live i’ll say wicker park.. and if they ask more specifically i’ll say that i’m actually a block into ukrainian village. im in a weird kind of border/in between place.
8 Kumbaya // Jul 29, 2004 at 3:14 pm
I love you, you love me, we’re a happy fa-mil-ly!
What an open, accepting, diversified place Wicker Park is.
Too bad that if you’re a white male who doesn’t wear those two-tone Italian Urban Hipster shoes, you’re called “corporate” to your face.
Yeah, real inclusive there.
9 rachelle // Jul 29, 2004 at 3:25 pm
well, saying that we cohabitate doesnt mean we always cohabitate nicely. i mean, that’s what the rash of sexual assaults and the gunfire that’s sometimes heard means, right?
10 Elaine // Jul 30, 2004 at 11:34 am
Yea for pushing out crack-houses! Boo for good folks having to move out though. Do they have rent control in Chicago?
11 ChrisM // Jul 30, 2004 at 4:01 pm
Rachelle on the map you might be in the East Ukrainian Village but in your mind and in your heart you are in Wicker Park!
12 ChrisM // Jul 31, 2004 at 8:55 am
Rachelle since I first read this blog entry the three characters you chronicle have been playing in my mind. Some how they seem famaliar to me, somewhere I’ve seen them. But where? Then it came to me. On The Jerry Springer Show! You do live in Chicago after all
13 tiffany // Aug 4, 2004 at 1:30 pm
i love that story rachelle. so sweet and so nice. i feel that way sometimes too, but then am drastically snapped out of happiness when there is ham and cheese and eggs from someone’s breakfast strewn all over the stairs on the 5th, 4th, 3rd and 2nd floors. so gross, but that’s just a small part of the wonder of boerum hill.
miss you! glad to hear all is going well in chicago. chat again soon!
14 rachelleb.com // Mar 20, 2005 at 10:23 am
Crack House No More?
East Ukrainian Village, Chicago The building in my neighborhood that I always call “the crack house” is all boarded up now. Either this is bad because it means the building has deteriorated even more, or it’s good because it…
15 rachelleb.com // Aug 31, 2005 at 6:39 am
Flaccid
Crack House, East Ukrainian Village, Chicago Looks like they’re finally gutting out the crack house. See also: » Crack House No More? » A Slice of East Ukrainian Village - - - - - - - - - -…
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