Chicago: Farewell, Sweet South Side
“They’re overreacting,” I thought to myself.
I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to leave. Our apartments were in a well landscaped courtway building, which was nestled in the hub of South Shore conveniently located by Chicago’s renowned Lakefront and Lakeshore drive expressway. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_Shore,_Chicago)
Not only that, Stony Island Avenue and the historical Hyde Park were just minutes away; there you could find a tantalizing assortment of restaurants and stores on days when traveling further west to Ford City Mall or Further south to River Oaks wasn’t feasible. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyde_Park%2C_Chicago%2C_Illinois)
I guess my sentiment had gotten the better of me because I was born and raised on the southeast side of Chicago. Why, as a teenager, my stomping grounds were the strips of Stony Island and Jeffery Avenue. I have a bond with those streets and feel a sense of ease whenever I’m in the vicinity.
I loved what big name companies were doing to the area. For instance, a LaSalle Bank, a Starbucks, and a Fifth Third Bank have all emerged on Stony Island in recent years. On 75th street, in place of a structure that couldn’t decide whether or not it wanted to be an unoccupied eyesore or a Zayre, Goldblatts or Ames from year to year, now stands a Staples and a Walgreens.
The potential for vast economic growth has always been present on the south side; with new homes and condominiums being constructed, as well as new businesses, it seemed my neighborhood and its residents were in for a long overdue extreme makeover. My love continued to grow for the southeast side as it went through its transformation and I even fell for the dwelling on Constance.
The atmosphere was calm. There was an argument every now and again from a couple who lived across the courtyard, but nothing ever got out of hand. But then again, why would it? The tenants were a friendly, professional mix of the young, the black and up and coming: a doctor, mail carrier, law office assistant and a real estate agent, just to name a few. The grounds were clean and secure. The smell of flowers always emanated in the halls which were bright and inviting. The tenants themselves were hard working and just as interested in keeping our surroundings beautiful, safe and peaceful.
There’s a saying that goes, “it only takes one family to move in and cause disarray on a block” Well, in this case, that family was the new property management. Their hostile takeover was in January of 2004. Within one month the building started going straight to hell.
The problems first began when veteran tenants were consistently locked out. It didn’t help that the appointed caretaker of the building rarely showed up when there was a problem. I remember being locked out on a few occasions when I was nine months pregnant. I also remember another tenant climbing over the wrought iron fence surrounding the complex on an icy day, endangering himself just to get us into the courtyard. The gate was never fully repaired and periodically, it was left wide open for anyone to walk into.
Then, new occupants moved into the empty apartments. That’s when a ton of problems started. There were reports of stereos and televisions blasting at all hours of the day and night, teenagers rolling blunts (marijuana and tobacco) in the vestibule and grown men bringing their gang affiliations from wherever they lived previously.
There was a conflict going on and not only was it happening in our building, it seemed this was happening all over the area. The concerns of South Shore residents had already been expressed in news reports and more recently, I cringed at stories in local papers which stated our neighborhood high schools were going through a drastic change for the worse. For example, according to a March 12th report in the Chicago Sun-times, teachers at Hyde Park Career Academy were quitting teaching altogether out of “fear”. (Chicago Suntimes March 12, 2006 “Teachers quitting out of ‘fear'”)
I tried to hold on to the sweet southeast side as I remembered it at my childhood home on 78th and Paxton. What I recall is a beautiful block lined with single family homes, smiling neighbors and a group of young people who had the opportunity to play outside under the protective eyes of neighbors who were doing well. Years later on Constance, it appeared neighbors were still watching, but instead of protective eyes, these were the eyes of young hoodlums watching our every move.
In the course of one summer, I saw a pleasant block turn into a gathering place for gang bangers and drug dealers. While they went about their business on the avenue, the women coming in from work, the children getting off of the school bus and the hard-working brothers rebelling against street life were way too close to becoming future casualties from the ruckus closing in on us.
“What’s going on?” I wondered.
I didn’t have to speculate too much before answers started pouring in. Some I’ve discussed this with blamed it on the projects being torn down and its residents being thrust into the South Shore area. Some blamed it on a problem generation and a “ghetto” mentality that seemed to be plaguing parts of the black community. I point the finger at the offending individual. And in our case: the property management.
One, rent was lowered immensely for incoming tenants and also; it seemed proper screening of new tenants was overlooked just to fill the vacant apartments.
Two, because of lax upkeep on the grounds surrounding the building, apartments became infested with giant waterbugs. Also, minor repairs were not taken care of. Even while we moved into our new home, the tub and sink in our apartment, reported clogged two weeks before was still clogged up.
Last of all, the building itself was no longer secure; gangs and prostitutes infiltrated the back entry and alleyway and used condoms littered the back porch. Since the janitor and management refused to keep the back entryway and basement secure, it wasn’t even safe to empty the garbage anymore. In addition, the fact that a couple of apartments were broken into wasn’t immediately revealed to tenants.
Eventually, bickering between new and old tenants started, almost to the point of physical altercations. Unfortunately, an after hours emergency number for the property management was non existent. Calling management in the morning after the incident did no good and calling the police during the incident just made the situation worse.
After numerous negotiations with the unresponsive property management, who was only interested in squeezing veteran tenants out of their high rental payments, most of the old tenants moved, bought homes or condos or just moved into another apartment building altogether. My family is among those who bought a house. We took refuge in a nice, quiet area in the south suburbs, amazingly, right next door to another new homeowner who left the southeast side for some of the same reasons.
Yeah, I know. You can run, but you can’t hide. Every neighborhood has its share of riff raff, including the ‘burbs. But, wouldn’t my children have a better chance at life in a house in the burbs? Yeah, violence happens everywhere, but why should my babies have to live right in the bowels of the thugs and the drug dealers that certain slumlords don’t mind renting to? Why should they have to dodge the gang bangers on the way home from school and the gunfire that sometimes rang out during the night on Constance Avenue. They shouldn’t have to. I never had to. Not on the sweet southeast side of Chicago.
References:
Chicago Suntimes March 12, 2006 Teachers quitting out of ‘fear’
http://www.chicagosuntimes.com
