Literally the crossing of two major railroad lines—the Illinois Central Railroad and the Lake Shore & Michigan Railroad—this historic community area has seen better days. In the second half of the nineteenth century and well into the twentieth, the rails ruled the city (and the nation) and Grand Crossing was king of the South Side. The trains brought a labor force of European immigrants from the North and blacks from the South; industry and trade flourished, and the neighborhood became a junction not just of steam and steel, but of cultures, as well.

The rest of the story is familiar—white flight ran its course and the railroad lost its scepter to new methods of transport. Grand Crossing tumbled off its throne. Today, though some trains still run, the neighborhood is in disrepair; streets haven’t been repaved in decades, overgrown lots dot the landscape, and most storefronts and homes are in need of—at the very least—a fresh coat of paint. But underneath Grand Crossing’s worn exterior, culture still runs deep.

best serious soul food
Army & Lou’s
Established in 1945, Army & Lou’s bills itself as one of the oldest black-owned restaurants in the Midwest. Maybe, but the thing that really sticks in your mind about this place is its unbelievably good food. As might be expected, the fried chicken is great, but if you’re going to order one thing, go for one of their phenomenal side dishes. The velvety, melt-in-your-mouth macaroni and cheese is nothing short of heavenly, and while the collard greens look a little soggy, they’re perfectly seasoned with bacon and are quite great. Anything you eat here should also be accompanied by a corn muffin (or two); even restaurants south of the Mason-Dixon line don’t make ’em this fluffy and sweet. Food from Army & Lou’s can be enjoyed at their quaint Grand Crossing location, or you can call ahead and order take-out. One word of advice, though—this food is not for calorie counters. 422 E. 75th Street. Open daily, 9am-10pm. (773)483-3100 (Clare Fentress)

best venue for plays you’ve never heard of
eta Creative Arts Foundation
Although it’s easily the South Side’s most established theater venue, eta Creative Arts Foundation is more than just a stage. Since 1971, eta has studied and celebrated the African-American experience in the performing arts by offering not only an impressive program of shows each year (four mainstage productions, along with a teen-billed series that runs on Saturday afternoons), but also adult theater classes, teaching workshops for arts educators, children’s summer camps, partnerships with neighborhood schools, and showcase opportunities for up-and-coming writers. eta is dedicated to casting black actors and actresses and producing works almost exclusively by underappreciated black playwrights. And although eta is located on a rather forlorn strip of South Chicago Avenue, the inside of the building is warm and vibrant; an art gallery and a large office area flank the theater. It’s unlikely you’d be able to walk in and not see something worth stopping for.  7558 S. South Chicago Ave. (773)752-3955. etacreativearts.org (Clare Fentress)

best broken electronics
The Cheap Store
There’s a layer of dust covering everything. Dirt is smudged on the floor, on the shelves, on the items on the shelves. A significant amount of said items are broken. No, this isn’t your grandma’s basement—it’s the Cheap Store. True to its name, this is a store where things are cheap. Located on a busy block of a run-down street lined with shops and cell phone stores (named Commercial Avenue, aptly), the Cheap Store sells everything from strollers missing a wheel (or two) to neat (if stained) furniture that will probably count as vintage in a couple years. But don’t let the dingy atmosphere scare you off—there are treasures to be found. On a recent visit, digging through a pile of junk uncovered some old-fashioned trunks ($10 each), and a dubious-looking clothing rack yielded choice finds (nothing more than $5). Some of the suspiciously inexpensive stereo systems probably work, too…but don’t bet on it. (N.b.: the Cheap Store is actually just southeast of Grand Crossing, in the South Chicago community area.) 8936 S. Commercial Ave. (773)734-0001 (Clare Fentress)

(courtesy of Taylor Mallory)

“Why not put food and entertainment all under one bun?” Taylor Mallory asks, reciting the slogan of his new food and music webshow, “Music Burger.” Wearing a smart sport jacket and his signature black baseball cap backwards, Mallory doesn’t look stressed, but the musician and teacher has a lot on his plate.

Having just graduated from Columbia College, he teaches an after-school class in music production at a South Side high school, works at a music production company, entertains at corporate events, is a wedding singer, and produces “Music Burger” episodes each week. The webshow was a “spontaneous creative idea” that came to Mallory as a way to promote Chicago musicians and bring people to his personal website through a food and music web series. Episodes of the show include a performance by a musical guest and Mallory teaching one simple recipe. The guests and the food are always related: Mallory says, “You think of going out to a nice restaurant and you think of a specific kind of music, like classical music, and then for a barbecue maybe you think of soul, or folk music.” He tries to do the same thing with “Music Burger”—in the most recent episode Mallory invited in an action-packed band, ENDISKIZE, and taught viewers how to make a protein shake. The project was originally entitled “I like food and people,” but that name was scrapped. Mallory explains why, leaning back in his chair, looking spaced out, and saying slowly, “I didn’t want to sound like a hippie.”

Three other Columbia College students work with Mallory on “Music Burger,” and the end result of their collaboration is near-professional quality web episodes. Additional help and advice comes from Ivan Dupee of Dupee Productions, whom Mallory describes simply as “a blessing.” The group is hoping the project will lead to distribution on major channels in the future, which would allow them to expand to other cities and provide exposure for even more artists. For now, musicians featured on “Music Burger” have come from the South and West Sides of Chicago, as well as the suburbs.

While “Music Burger” is a lot of work, Mallory says it all comes together in moments like the one in the J Gridges episode, when he was standing in his kitchen and watching the band play and felt “this can really be something.” He loves to see the musicians he features talking up “Music Burger” on their own sites, and is proud to say that the project surprises people he meets. The drive behind his work comes from his conviction that the music industry lacks creativity, and he wants to push forward the “craft” of making music. And there’s another reason. “If it puts a smile on your face, then do it,” Mallory says.

The same belief that people should pursue what they enjoy runs through Mallory’s class in music production at Hirsch Metropolitan High School in Grand Crossing, the neighborhood just south of Woodlawn. He calls his teaching “organic,” responding to his own and students’ interests. Mallory moves on quickly from talking about this job, adding that he works in client relations for Dupee Productions and has various weekend gigs. He chuckles and says, “I know you’re thinking, ‘That’s a lot.’”

But Mallory never misses a beat, even asking for a publicity shot of himself with your reporter to hype this article. “Music Burger” has been picked up by Blip TV, a resource for video bloggers, and with Mallory at the helm more publicity is inevitable.

“The Man Who Saved New Orleans” is the latest play at eta Creative Arts Foundation. Written by Thomas Meloncon, it returns the narrative of New Orleans to the people who were kicked out of the city when Katrina moved in. It tells the story of the Prejeans, an African American family from the Lower 9th Ward who have been relocated to the Houston home of an evangelical cousin. A blind grandfather, a broken mother, a tormented son, and a silent daughter populate the cast list of the family drama that unfolds over two lengthy acts. A host of supporting characters, most notably a snarky, seductive fellow refugee named Eva (played by Ina Houston), add commentary but little complexity to the Prejeans’ struggles.

Each of the characters attempts to deal with the pain instilled by Katrina and its aftermath while grappling with immediate domestic trauma. Heartbreak, addiction, death, redemption—it’s all here. Arthur Prejean (Foster Williams, doing his best Ray Charles impression), the family patriarch, tries to hold everyone together by spouting mystical wisdom handed down from his black Indian ancestors, but his words are not enough. So Vincent Bourdeaux (Reginald Jackson), the inhospitable cousin, imposes his rigid Christian faith on the family, once again to no avail. Eva blames her family’s problems on white people, and the family joins her in finding a scapegoat.

And then things fall apart. Willie Jean (Nicole Black), Arthur’s daughter and caretaker, can no longer bear to see everyone else suffer, much less Johnny Boy (Randle Michael), her wayward teenage son, as he torments himself over the tragedies that unfolded in the wake of the storm. And Hattie (Chloe Johnson), the youngest of the family, resigns herself to silence. At first, each family conflict provokes characters and spectators alike to take sides. As characters scream and storm out, or crumble in pain, the audience is left to decide who is justified in their outbursts.

In the midst of the familiy turmoil, the play finally manages to establish a solid foundation for itself. All of the Prejean’s quarrels have run their course, and the family is finally left in a state of complete dejection. Should they turn to God or against their enemies? As discussions turn into arguments and points of view devolve into dogmas, an overwhelming sense of despair permeates the atmosphere of the play. No one is completely in the right; everyone is searching for the most convenient solution. The open set invites the audience to participate in the dialogue of the Prejeans, and director Artisia Green’s loose staging adds a heightened naturalism to the acting.

Unfortunately, the play wraps up this whirlwind of conflict too neatly. The title is an overt reference to Johnny Boy’s nickname, “New Orleans,” and his grandfather predictably pulls him out of his despondency and returns him to righteousness. Meloncon leaves questions of faith and family hanging, preferring to mop up most of the confusion with easy resolutions.

Still, the play leaves the audience with a lingering intuition that the Prejeans aren’t quite through the storm yet. The hope that the play ironically inspires is that their confusion will return, and that the family will continue to probe the confounding facts and motivations that surround their tragedy. They have yet to return to New Orleans to reclaim their city.
eta Creative Arts Foundation Main Stage Theater. eta Square, 7558 S. South Chicago Avenue. April 22-June 13. Thursday-Saturday, 8 pm, Sunday, 3 pm & 7pm. (773) 752-3955. $30 ($15 for students). etacreativearts.org

(Mehveş Konuk)

For the past three weeks, she has been working on a project in the Los Angeles area that assesses waste flow and finds creative ways to redirect it. The project involves three different locations: a public housing project in L.A., a hospital for Vietnam veterans in a mental health program, and a community of ranchers and members of the Shoshone Paiute Indian tribe in Owens Valley (where the city of L.A. obtains most of its water).

Klehm’s L.A. project has many independently evolving parts. She has developed two bio-filters, which contain a mechanical sand-gravel filter in addition to a soil-plant filtering component. One is constructed from a shipping crate, the other from 55-gallon barrels. Both filter rainwater and river water from the city. She is also cultivating wetlands for water filtration and purification. In Owens Valley, Klehm set up a large-scale earthworm composting and green waste program. “I’m working with the dynamic of my context,” explains Klehm. “The Latino community’s dynamic, the veteran’s dynamic, and this tiny town of ranchers and natives’ dynamic.”

“A lot of people don’t really see what I do as art-making,” Klehm pauses. “But I really don’t care. Others say this is art. I call it ‘social ecologies.’ I use aesthetic strategies to re-enliven dialogues around land use. And I engage people and help create a system that works for them.” Although Klehm has been in California for the past several weeks, most of her projects are based in her hometown Chicago, a historic center for community-based art forms.

For example, in 1993, the arts organization Sculpture Chicago joined with artists and local community organizations to create eight large-scale public art projects in several Chicago neighborhoods. The project, entitled “Culture in Action,” included a neighborhood parade that brought Mexican-Americans and African-Americans together, a hydroponic garden for HIV and AIDS patients, and a block party organized by neighborhood youth groups. Despite the project’s attempt to create a new dialogue between the artist and community, seventeen years later almost none of its effects remain. Most of the works in “Culture in Action” didn’t last; Klehm wants to make sure that hers do.

A few years ago, Klehm started the “Seed Archive Project.” Housed in Chicago, the archive is a public-access surplus of seeds, which Klehm gives to anyone committed to sowing and growing them. The project has an estimated eighteen-year development period. Klehm also started a “Neighborhood Orchard” near her Little Village home. The project has been developing for eight years, and continues to grow. Klehm began the community apple orchard when her neighbor, Trevino, refused money for a favor, asking her instead to plant him an apple tree. The orchard now takes up three-quarters of an acre. In 2007, Klehm built “Greenhouses of Hope”: two 2,500-square-foot earthworm compost sites in Chicago’s Pacific Garden Mission, a homeless shelter on South Canal Street. The project is continuous and ongoing. “Everything I do, I birth, has its own momentum, and eventually projects move away from me. I just have to keep up with them.”

Klehm, who grew up on a farm, clearly knows how to keep up with nature, but reconnecting urban residents with their landscapes is more difficult, and she knows what happens when community projects become dependent on a single individual. Twenty years ago, Klehm planted a hundred fruit trees in Grand Crossing. Today, only two remain, and they are now located at the Experimental Station at 61st and Blackstone. “People may want urban gardens, but they don’t know how to take care of them, or what it means to build an ecology and maintain it. That’s the missing piece, and that’s the hardest thing to teach because we’ve been so divorced from those long-term rhythms.”

As Klehm’s career continues to take her to new places, the resilience and relevance of her projects will be tested. But she has confidence in both her work and the communities they engage. “What I do is teach a system and see how people grab onto it. People I work with become collaborators. We are all on equal ground.”

(Mehveş Konuk)

The housing crisis is responsible for much of the movement in Woodlawn, according to Mattie Butler, executive director of Woodlawn East Community and Neighbors (WECAN). “People are moving because they lost one place, so they move in with relatives or friends and in about a month they have to move out because their friends start to have a problem [paying their rent or mortgage]. They keep on moving within Woodlawn till they exhaust their options.” WECAN provides affordable housing and supportive services to Woodlawn residents, like those displaced by the 557 foreclosures that occurred in the neighborhood this past January. With many cases still pending, Butler predicts that the worst of the foreclosures is yet to come.

Woodlawn is also one of many neighborhoods in Chicago undergoing gentrification—or, at least, it was before the housing market collapsed. “We have more affluent people who have moved to Woodlawn, but now they’re not moving that often because the housing market has got a great big hole in the bottom of it,” Butler says. But this hasn’t prevented the displacement of low-income residents. “We were having a problem with poor people being pushed out because rental housing was used for condo conversion, but it didn’t stop fast enough to keep people from being moved,” explains Butler. Developers were hit by the foreclosures too, and now, at the same time as many struggle to afford housing, “there’s a lot of new construction sitting on the ground, vacant and boarded-up.”

The foreclosure crisis is also driving an increase in movement throughout the South Side. According to Carlos Nelson, executive director of the Greater Auburn-Gresham Development Corporation, people in his neighborhood “are typically moving around just for additional housing.” They tend to stay within about a five-mile radius that includes Englewood and Grand Crossing. Jacques Conway, a member of the community organization Teamwork Englewood, adds, “People move frequently based on how many times they run out of money to stay in a particular apartment. Often, when they know they have to move or they will be evicted, instead of paying their landlord back – which they know they can’t do – they use it as a security deposit to rent at another place. They usually stay in the community, but either move when they get behind on rent, or when the building is in such disrepair that they don’t want to rent there anymore.”

This process can quickly become a self-perpetuating cycle, as each move leads to greater instability. In a November 2009 report, researchers at D.C.-based think tank the Urban Institute dubbed this process “residential churning.” “Churning movers,” or people who move frequently without improving their situations, made up nearly half of all moving families in ten U.S. cities surveyed in the study (Chicago was not among them). These families tend to be young and low-income, and dissatisfied and disconnected from their neighborhoods, though they rarely move far outside them.

One woman who fits the profile of a churning mover is Cheryl*, a 38-year-old mother of three. She has moved around a lot in her lifetime, twice due to evictions. “I had to start over once, then I got divorced and I had to start over after that. Now I’m at a place in my life where I’m starting over again.”

One eviction followed her divorce. With her husband gone and without a job, “I didn’t have the means to care for the apartment or pay the rent,” she says. The second happened because, she says, “I was living a life at that time where I was reckless—I wasn’t too smart. Today I’m a different person. I think more about the consequences of my actions.”

Cheryl currently lives in Englewood with her children and partner, and she wants to move. “There’s a lot of open [criminal] activity here,” she explains. She would like to live in a more culturally and economically diverse neighborhood such as Oak Lawn, where she lived several years ago, or Hyde Park. In the latter, she says, “everything’s convenient. It’s a thriving area. There are lots of different places that my children can become a part of—a wealth of things going on in the area.”

Cheryl’s evictions pose an obstacle—she has “horrible credit,” she says, and her partner has none. But as she tries to start over this time, she’s in a much better position. “I have a different team of people with me. I have a companion now who helps me with everything, which makes it a lot easier. I have resources now.” She’s also working with an organization in Hyde Park to try to find an affordable apartment there.

Cheryl may have been a churning mover in the past, but she’s in a good position to become what the Urban Institute calls an “up-and-out mover” if she relocates to a higher-income community with more opportunities. The very fact that she knows about neighborhoods like Oak Lawn and Hyde Park puts her at a significant advantage.

Chicagoans tend to be familiar with neighborhoods in which their own racial group predominates, according to the 2008 study “Racial Blind Spots: Black-White-Latino Differences in Community Knowledge.” The study, led by University of Illinois-Chicago professor Maria Krysan, found that people decide where to move based primarily on information from social networks and realtors, two sources that usually resemble them racially, thus reinforcing the already extreme segregation of Chicago’s neighborhoods.

But as Krysan and her colleagues found—and Cheryl attests—people want to live in more diverse neighborhoods than they actually do. The fact that African-Americans, for example, tend to congregate in particular neighborhoods has more to do with the fear of discrimination elsewhere, plus the aforementioned “blind spots,” than with an innate preference to be around people of the same race.

A new nonprofit called MoveSmart is trying to remedy these racial blind spots by providing movers with easy access to housing-related information. Their “Neighborhood Finder” allows users to plug in their priorities—low density or high, good schools, banks, farmers markets, libraries—and see which areas fit them best.

According to Executive Director Justin Massa, the idea for MoveSmart was born over coffee with two other fair housing advocates in Chicago. “We started realizing that lots of housing counselors don’t have access to all the rich information that’s out there.” After a lot of brainstorming, he says, “We finally got around to the concept of taking lots of data that’s complex and honing it down into a system where average people can address their own needs.”

(courtesy of Zol87/Flickr)

Now, an agency called Housing Choice Partners (HCP) has a contract with the CHA to counsel former public housing residents with Section 8 vouchers (federal rental subsidies). “We work with them pretty intensively,” says Executive Director Christine Klepper. “We lead tours so they can see what we call ‘opportunity areas,’ which are areas with a lower poverty rate and a lower [minority] population. We talk about considering the quality of schools, researching the crime rate, what kind of amenities are nearby.”

“So often, low-income people, don’t necessarily think about those things, because they’ve never had a choice,” Klepper explains. “They just kind of look around them and make decisions based on what’s nearby.” HCP’s counseling has measurable success: the average participant moves from a census tract with 60 percent poverty to one with 30 percent. But, Klepper says, “A neighborhood that has 30 percent of its residents in poverty is still a pretty distressed neighborhood. [The first move] is just a stopping point.”

Although most people don’t want to move far from the communities they know, Klepper says that “families that move to opportunity areas are always more satisfied. They like their neighborhoods better, their landlords better, their units better.”

Sometimes, we need a big move in order to get a fresh start. In economic hard times, and across the intensely divided geography of Chicago, the services that organizations like MoveSmart and HCP provide to residents can mean, at the very least, a move in the right direction.

(Elly Fishman and Ellis Calvin)

Comer, the son of a railroad employee, graduated from Paul Revere Elementary in 1942. In 1963, he started Lands’ End Clothing Company, and in 2002, he sold it to Sears for $1.9 billion. Of that fortune, $100 million has since been poured into developing and revitalizing his childhood neighborhood.

Revere School Community, part of Chicago’s 5th Ward, is a 15-block neighborhood in the eastern part of Greater Grand Crossing. It encompasses Revere Elementary and the surrounding residential areas, and is home to 2,500 people.
According to recent U.S. Census data, over one-third of Greater Grand Crossing’s 38,619 residents live at or below the poverty level; 91.3 percent of the elementary school students participate in the city’s free and reduced-priced lunch program, live in foster homes within the community, or both; and the high school graduation rate is less than 50 percent. In the Revere community, the median household income is $27,916, while the median salary in the Chicago metropolitan area is $46,911. The rates of crime, delinquency, unemployment, and residential instability are also significantly higher in Revere than in Chicago as a whole.

Revere, like many parts of Greater Grand Crossing, was a working-class neighborhood built around the railroad. The quiet streets of Revere are marked by a mixture of time-worn single-family houses, scattered vacant lots, and small parks. Many of the houses are abandoned, windows boarded and doors held shut by vines. But now, after a $27 million investment in new Revere housing, a third building style dots the neighborhood. Scattered throughout Revere are sixty modern saltbox houses. The contrast of new and old in Revere is jarring.

After his visit to Revere in 1998, Comer was rattled, and decided to act immediately. Greg Mooney, now president of the Gary Comer Youth Center, was one of the first people Comer recruited to help facilitate conversations between the community members and developers. “Gary started asking about the social issues that parents and students encounter in the neighborhood. The more he learned, the more he wanted to support the community,” says Mooney. Over a series of Saturday breakfast meetings, residents began working with a team of professionals to organize around issues in the neighborhood. Three years later, in 2001, the Comer Science and Education Fund (CSEF) was established.
Comer was not only inspired to compensate for deficits in the community; he also made an effort to capitalize on its assets.

At the time of Comer’s first visit to Revere, Arthur Robinson was a teacher at Paul Revere Elementary. Robinson also ran an after-school program, the South Shore Drill Team, which caught Comer’s attention. Robinson founded the drill team in 1980 with four original members in order to offer an activity with regimented discipline and a vibrant community as an alternative to gang life. Now, over 300 students are involved with the team. “Gary was inspired to build a practice space that would be South Shore Drill Team’s home,” says Mooney. Eight years and $35 million later, the South Shore Drill Team had a new practice space, and Revere had a new youth center.

In some ways, the Gary Comer Youth Center, on 72nd Street and South Chicago Avenue, resembles a colorful car dealership. It is a building that advertises itself, with red-and-blue-checkered walls and a large glass pillar resembling a smokestack with the center’s name scrolling across the top. It’s no wonder the Revere streets are quiet, as around 300 children spend their afternoons in the youth center each day. Another 300 high school students from Gary Comer College Preparatory High School are temporarily housed in GCYC until they move into a new $7 million building across the street in June.

(Ellis Calvin)

In 2007, the Comer Foundation hired the Neighborhood Capital Institute, a collaborative, mission-driven Chicago development firm, to assess the needs of the neighborhood. This was a first for both parties. “What we tested at Revere was driven by the residents’ stated values: how do you start looking at any neighborhood—with at least one school—as a ‘learning-centered neighborhood?’” says Ruth Wuorenma, the president of NCI. “How do you organize a neighborhood to have a campus feel? To reinforce, in the physical environment, that education spaces are priority areas for the community and can be a cohesive force?”

On any given weekday around 3pm, Paul Revere Elementary School finishes its school day. Kids pour out of the building, lingering in small groups against the fence and near parked cars. Teachers tell them to move on. While some go home, many travel in large groups across the street to the GCYC. Mooney explains that this transition from school to after-school is the most important in the day.

“Chicago has a shorter school day than any other urban district,” says Mooney. “There is an overarching need for a first-rate education program. But in order to have a robust program, where students are progressing, education must extend well beyond the school day.” It is the connection between school and after-school that will tie a “campus feeling” together in Revere.

Once a more cohesive community—one centered around education—begins to form, the next step is creating education programs. Bill Gerstein, a former principal at South Shore High School who recruited students from Revere, believes in workforce development. “Change really happens around the role of schools and workforce development strategies. You somehow have to get people to earn money. And the only way to get students to earn more money is to have an education concentrating on developing the necessary skills,” says Gerstein.

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, unemployment among 16- to 19-year-olds in the United States is 26.4 percent. Unemployment among black youth, however, has reached 43.8 percent. Without jobs, youth are disconnected from business networks and rapidly lose social capital as well. Unemployment is not just the absence of income, but also of an informal education that is integral to creating a sustainable community.

The most recent investment in Revere is the new charter high school, the Gary Comer College Preparatory High School. GCCP is one of nine campuses in the Noble Network of Charter Schools, each running a rigorous curriculum and discipline system created to prepare students for college education. However, the risks are high. “Noble Street Schools have very high standards. They have really good numbers. There are a lot of kids who just don’t care about that. And what are you going to do with them? Can’t just sweep them under the rug,” says Gerstein. If college prep schools get their students into college, it’s a success. If they don’t, what will make them employable?

These are the kinds of questions that the Comer Foundation asks. CSEF has invested $2 million in employment training programs in the Revere community. They also have youth and adult classes on subjects like computer programming, home budgeting, and managing debt.

“Gary’s interest was always to be the seed capital, recognizing that there needed to be other groups investing in the projects,” says Mooney. Comer has certainly catalyzed interest in the neighborhood. CSEF, after acquiring land for $2.5 million, is now working with the City of Chicago to bring the 5th Ward its first public library. They are also working with the Chicago Park District on rehabilitating parks in Revere.

It’s an open question whether this kind of change is imitable in communities that don’t benefit from someone like Comer. “When I was at South Shore, we used to ask Larry Ellison to donate to the school,” Gerstein reflects. Ellison, the multi-billionaire who founded Oracle, attended South Shore High School in the early 1960s. Ellison never responded to Gerstein’s requests. “Revere is a self-contained area. That’s why they call it Pocket Town. I don’t know any other place like it.”

It is Friday afternoon, 3:15pm, and Elgin Smith, one of three art teachers at GCYC and a recent graduate from the School of the Art Institute, begins his lesson for the afternoon. He is teaching Abstract Expressionism. Smith plays a variety of Michael Jackson hits, with each tempo meant to inspire a brushstroke. As his six young students dance and paint, across the hallway, a group of Gary Comer College Prep students clad in khakis and polo shirts walk silently in a perfect line to their classroom. At 6pm, the South Shore Drill Team begins their nightly practice in the gym, and a healthy dinner is served to those children staying late.

“Life is lived in neighborhoods,” says Wuorenma. “The best thing you can do for a community is to help them create a nest. A nest is what planners would call a ‘great place,’ where each piece strengthens the others. It is a place you feel safe. A place you can come home to.” Revere’s future can’t be predicted. But Mooney seems to have it right. “You can never meet all of the needs. We try and be as responsive as possible, but invariably—the needs are far greater than the resources available.” After twelve years, and a total $100 million in investments, it seems as though Revere has begun to build a new nest on top of old tracks.

(courtesy of eta Creative Arts)

Under the direction of Kemati J. Porter, the play opens on the home of Marcus Goldwater (Mark H. Howard), a young writer and veteran of the Iraq War, whose son has just gone missing and whose heartbroken wife walked out the door shortly thereafter. To fill the absence, Marcus’s father Leon (Dale Benton) comes to stay with him, quite literally bringing the baggage of his own father in tow. The ensuing story takes place over one evening of weighty conversation, as Marcus waits by the phone for the daily call from a detective he has hired to find his son. While the bulk of the story centers on the relationship between Marcus and Leon, the ghost of Leon’s father Bernard (George C. Stalling) intermittently cuts in, and Marcus’s recollections of his marriage pull his wife Yvette (Olivia Charles) back onstage.

A tale of the tendency of familial history to repeat itself, “Fathers and Sons” is grounded in astonishingly solid
performances, with each actor embodying, but never overacting, his character. Howard is restrained in his portrayal of a fragile and exhausted man at the cusp of losing it all. When he does lose grip of his self-possession, the process feels organic rather than schizophrenic. As the frustrated son who has given up on his father, Howard’s chemistry with Benton is instantaneous and familiar. Benton’s Leon is awkward in his search for redemption, but not awkwardly depicted. When Leon finally gets his moment of salvation, one cannot help but feel catharsis.

Charles’s and Stalling’s performances, while not as central as those of Howard and Benton, can hardly be called minor. The latter adds a needed dose of humor to the play, never losing the sparkle-eyed wisdom death has brought his way. Charles’s Yvette infuses the story with a touch of femininity, while avoiding the stereotyped female character as either a source of endless, humorless practicality, or a fount of silly romance.

The actors are helped along by the way the play, written by Michael Bradford, manages to deal with highly emotional material without dipping into the sphere of schmaltz. Bradford doesn’t rely on the ease of tired artistic platitudes, and there truly are no cringe-worthy lines in the production. Those that come out as particularly poetic are simple, satisfying, and within the realm of reality.

“Fathers and Sons” did hit a few technical snags, with some awkwardly disjointed trumpeting piped in to correspond to Charles’s playing. The set, which involved two poles indicating the walls of the house, occasionally obscured the actors. On the whole, however, these obstacles were both forgivable and forgettable, reduced in importance by the captivating characters and the tension of the story.

Like its Russian counterpart, “Fathers and Sons” explores the meaning of the ties that bind generations of men together. The story reminds us that twin lights of hope and the possibility for redemption glow behind the immediacy of chaos.
eta Creative Arts Foundation, 7558 S. South Chicago Ave. Through April 4. (773)752-3955. etacreativearts.org

best vegan soul food
Soul Veg
What do you do if your religion’s strict vegan diet renders most restaurant food off-limits and you’re tired of cooking for yourself? If you’re the African Hebrew Israelites of Jerusalem, founded more than 40 years ago by a West Side steelworker named Ben Carter, you start your own restaurant and cook up the South Side’s best vegan soul food. Soul Vegetarian East, or Soul Veg for short, is the only Midwestern outpost of a worldwide chain of Soul Vegetarian restaurants. You may think you’re familiar with its output from the frozen versions found in student-run coffee shops on the University of Chicago campus, but there’s really no comparison between those and the hot, fresh dishes at the 75th Street location. Many believe that the real highlights of the menu are the little things: the battered tofu bits appetizer, the sweet and garlicky barbecue sauce that comes with many side dishes, the Prince salad dressing that improves anything it touches, and the soy ice cream flavors that change by the day and, on a recent visit, included a silky, creamy carob-peanut blend. Among the main courses, the jerkfu wrap and the veggie gyro are standouts. 205 E. 75th St. Monday-Thursday, 8am-10pm; Friday-Saturday, 8am-11pm. (773)224-0104 (Sam Feldman)

best barbecue
Uncle John’s Barbecue
Chicago may be the unquestioned capital of pizza, hot dogs, and Italian beef, but it’s a barbecue backwater, and the places that rise above mediocrity or worse can be counted on one hand. Foremost among them is Uncle John’s Barbecue, a cash-only takeout stand at 69th and Calumet. Behind an anti-robbery window, owner and former commercial meat dealer Mack Sevier smokes up a terrific and supremely affordable rib tip and hot link combo. The coarsely ground and distinctively seasoned links are made in-house, and it shows in every bite. Tips are delicious, studded with gristle but smoky and flavorful enough to justify the mess. On top of it all, the sauce is first rate: dense, tangy, and sweet but not cloying; follow the regulars and ask for a mix of hot and mild. A single $9 order spills out of a Styrofoam tray and feeds two easily. The only downsides are the total absence of seating and the tense surroundings. Fortunately, Uncle John’s is only a short bike ride from Promontory Point and the lakefront beaches. Grab a grape drink from the vending machine, pack up your order, and you’re ready for a perfect late summer picnic. 337 E. 69th St. Monday-Thursday, 11am-11pm; Friday-Saturday, 11am-1am. (773)892-1233 (Michael Joyce)

best theater
eta Creative Arts Foundation
At its core a theater performing African-American-centric plays, eta is also an incubator for talent. Founded in 1971 seeking the “preservation, perpetuation and promulgation of the African-American aesthetic in the City of Chicago” and beyond, eta runs five major plays each year, mainly new works. In addition, eta also offers a wide range of performing arts for children and families as well as two art galleries, a library, and a variety of educational programs. Running until mid-November, this fall’s first major performances is “Resurrection,” Daniel Beaty’s study of the emotional complexities faced by black men. 7558 S. South Chicago Ave. (773)752-3955. etacreativearts.org (Michael Joyce)

best place to buy reptile meat
Market Fisheries
Your prizewinning gumbo recipe calls for turtle meat, but in Chicago that’s being quoted at $20-plus a pound, and you’re told you can buy no fewer than ten. What are you going to do? Visit Market Fisheries, where you’ll pay half that, and can satisfy your alligator needs to boot. If you’re looking for cheap crawfish, crabs, or frog legs, along with actual fish, you’ll find that too. A no-frills but full-service fishmonger, it offers extraordinarily low prices and great service in a slightly frenetic atmosphere. Bonus: the hairnet-clad counterperson will clean your picks, and cut them as requested. 7129 S. State St. Open daily by 10am; closes 6:15pm except on Wednesday, 7:15, and weekends, 3:45pm. (773)483-3233 (Michael Joyce)

Barbara Ann's Bar-B-Que; photos by Ellis Calvin

Like any obsession, barbecue can be categorized extensively and analyzed exhaustively. Common in North America since long before the Revolution (George Washington’s diary notes a Virginian “barbicue” in 1769), the process of slowly cooking meat indirectly over a wood fire spread across the South and West, by the late ‘90s fueling at least one phenomenological investigation (Holley and Wright, 1998) along with plenty of less scholarly literature on the subject. That said, barbecue in the U.S. tends to fall into a few broad regional categories. Thousands of towns vie for the title of barbecue capital, but Memphis and Kansas City are clear favorites. In both cases, thick, sweet, tomato-based sauces coat tender meat, but that’s not the only way of doing barbecue. In the Carolinas, mustard- and vinegar-based sauces on pulled whole hog predominate, while the diversity of Texan approaches defy easy description, from sauceless Eastern European-influenced hot-smoked meats to Mexican-style barbacoa, originally made from a leaf-covered cattle head.

But back to Chicago, specifically the original Leon’s at 82nd and Cottage Grove. A once-proud establishment with several South Side locations, in its time Leon’s has earned praise from the Woodlawn-raised rapper Common as well as the usual TV and newspaper reviewers. My party orders slabs and links, which arrive quickly. Perhaps too quickly, since the fries are underdone. More importantly, everything is covered in a sickly, corn-syrupy sheen. The sauce tastes as bad as it looks—some horrible cross between ketchup and Karo. Whether sauce even belongs on barbecue is a matter of no small debate. Plenty of established barbecue traditions rely on dry rubs and no sauce at all, and even in the sauce camp plenty of connoisseurs ask for it on the side, certainly not slathered. For my part, I haven’t met any smoked flesh so sublime that no sauce could improve it, but Leon’s paltry offering is too awful to even qualify as depressing. The ribs, on the other hand, grasp towards redemption. Smoky and reasonably succulent, they’re a good effort. Unfortunately, the hot links are a dull, finely ground hash. We don’t finish our meal, but we do stop at Dat Donuts next door. It’s a travesty that any breakfast should trump barbecue, but for the moment it’s apparent why Chicago ‘cue is so easily dismissed.

Our earlier trip to Barbara Ann’s proves that it doesn’t have to be this way. A few blocks north of Leon’s on Cottage Grove, it was founded by Mississippi veteran, lawyer, developer, and restaurateur Delars Bracy in 1967 and named after his daughter—the current owner—who now supervises an all-female pit crew. Attached to an identically named motel, the place sets a high bar. Over an oak, charcoal, and hickory fire, a variety of pork meats slowly cook in the hot smoke. The low heat allows sugars and amino acids to react, browning the surface in a reaction that biochemists don’t understand well. Underneath, carbon monoxide from the smoke reacts with myosin fibers to turn the inner edge of the meat bright red. If there’s such a thing as Chicago-style barbecue, we’re near the epicenter.

That question has been hotly debated, but the answer seems to be a clear yes. For starters, there’s the meat. Chicago’s claims to fame (again, we’re a city that can’t settle for doing just one thing right) are hot links and rib tips. At their best, links are coarsely ground, with melt-in-your mouth chunks of fat and hogflesh dense with sage and red pepper. Barbara Ann serves particularly good ones. Tips are more of an acquired taste. Gristly, flavorful rectangles of flesh a bit bigger than your finger but stuck on a knob of cartilage, they’re cheap, tasty, and not entirely edible. An impressive fraction of a Styrofoam tray full of tips ends up discarded, and nothing quite brings you down from a barbecue reverie like hitting a knob of gross. But what reveries tips inspire. After hours in a glass and steel “aquarium-style” smoker, they’re distinctly crisper and meatier than their Southern counterparts. Add some mixed sauce (equal parts hot and mild sauce, perfectly smoky and sweet) to complement the succulence and the smell alone dissuades us from looking for tables or chairs. Barbara Ann’s has neither, but the parking lot does us fine.

Fortunately, the best is yet to come. A week later, we’re at Uncle John’s at Calumet and 69th. Founded in 2006 by Barbara Ann’s former pitmaster Mack Sevier, the restaurant is cash and carry only. That doesn’t deter the link-and-tip combo-seeking crowds. After moving to Chicago in 1962, the Arkansas-born Sevier worked for a poultry company before opening his own meat business in 1973, with stints at several barbecue places until he joined Barbara Ann’s in 1994. Behind another aquarium-style smoker for hours every day, he regulates the oak, elm, hickory, and mulberry fire, controlling its temperature and smokiness.

Sevier’s pedigree ought to impress—Barbara Ann’s has been a South Side favorite for decades, and his tenure as pitmaster there earned rave reviews. In fact, one of them is posted above the bullet-resistant counter at Uncle John’s, with his name highlighted and Barbara Ann’s crossed out. We follow the advice of one prominently posted review and order the link-and-tip combo again. Even the excellence of Barbara Ann’s doesn’t compare to what we get a few minutes later. For $9.50 and tax, we’re presented with two slices of white bread and a cupful of coleslaw atop a sheet of wax paper. The real bounty is underneath that: two peerless coarse-ground links and a mess of rib tips on top of a pile of fries, all doused in Uncle John’s excellent homemade barbecue sauce. There’s too much of it all to fit in the Styrofoam box, and after his first bite even my friend from Kansas City is impressed. We go back two days later.

Alas, South Side barbecue has long been critically underappreciated. When the popular Tribune columnist Mike Royko challenged the city to best his rib recipe in a 1982 open competition, he was blown away by what the South Side had been cooking up for decades. Even today, Chicago’s best-known BBQ restaurants—the ones in Slow Food books or on “Check Please!”—tend to be north of Wacker. Fortunately, the tide is changing. The increasingly-influential “Chicago culinary chat site” LTHforum.com has been a vocal proponent of Barbara Ann’s and Uncle John’s for several years now, awarding both places “Great Neighborhood Restaurant” awards. The Trib is in on the act now, calling Uncle John’s the best tips in the city in a 2007 article. National respect may be closer than any pitmaster realizes.

Brownies and cupcakes at Brown Sugar Bakery; Ellis Calvin

Brown Sugar Bakery recently moved to its current location at 75th and Calumet and expanded the space to include a comfortable seating area. With free Wi-Fi, it’s easy to spend a whole afternoon taking in the smells; the caramel- and chocolate-colored walls reflect the palette of Hart’s delicious creations. “This is my best seller,” she states proudly as we pick out a slice of caramel cake. It’s easy to see why the four-layer concoction is so popular: each layer is topped liberally with a caramel as sweet as it is creamy, whose consistency lies somewhere between a dessert sauce and an icing. The gigantic single-serving is only $3.50—a bargain, especially if you get several kinds to share among friends. “I make all my cakes from scratch,” Hart continues. These days, when the yellow cake we’re most familiar with comes in a box, Hart’s back-to-basics approach comes as a welcome treat.

There are still some new tricks to be found up Hart’s sleeves. “Oh, you liked my cupcakes?” she asks as we lick the last crumbs of one from our fingers. “I’m thinking about injecting them,” she smiles. The cupcakes are already larger-than-life, and come in several varieties. Each one is less than $2, and is easily split between two people. We opted for the “Turtle,” a swirl of caramel and chocolate icing topped with chopped pecans. This permutation also comes in cake form: four vertiginous layers of alternating chocolate and yellow cake. Seated temptingly nearby were the red velvet and strawberry shortcake variations.

But what is this unassuming fellow tucked between the banana and bread puddings? “That’s sweet potato pie,” Hart explains. “I don’t mess around with that.” A thin buttery crust is home to a spiced filling that only remotely resembles what one has seen on Thanksgiving tables past. Hart has mastered the exact ratio of cinnamon to cloves, and the result is too fabulous to be limited to one piece. We watched as our group recreated Zeno’s paradox on a single serving of sweet potato pie, until someone was bold enough to steal the last tiny morsel.

When a place has so many options, you’d be nuts not to ask for a recommendation. Hart was an expert guide: “If you want to know my favorite, it’s the pineapple coconut cake.” Another four-layer yellow cake, this one is segmented with pineapple filling, covered in a cream-cheese icing and sprinkled generously with coconut flakes. It was a subtler, less overpowering flavor combination than the ever-popular chocolate and caramel, and it effectively demonstrated Hart’s ability to satisfy a wide range of tastes.

Both Hart and her sister, Shonda Stuart, stress the idea that Brown Sugar is an enterprise. Hart calls herself “a businesswoman” above all else, even more than a chef or baking enthusiast. The bakery was busy filling catering jobs and other orders as we ate, and even is available for wedding cakes. Her sister, Shonda Stuart, notes the important role that the bakery serves in the community: “We’re giving people products that they love.” Perhaps because of this business of “spreading happiness,” she describes working at Brown Sugar as “a respite.”

Brown Sugar Bakery, 328 E. 75th St. Monday-Saturday, 11am-7pm. (773)224-6262 begin_of_the_skype_highlighting              (773)224-6262      end_of_the_skype_highlighting.