When Chicago’s turn came for National Geographic’s “ZipUSA” feature, covering a neighborhood nominated by readers, the magazine sent its correspondent to the steaming jungles of 60614–Lincoln Park to you and me.
Years ago there was a neighborhood bar I would see on the ride home to Ravenswood. It was somewhere along that east-west stretch of track between the Belmont and Paulina stops. In the early winter darkness, its homey entrance cupped in the glow of street lamps, it seemed a nest of light and warmth. One day out walking I came upon it and stepped in. The joint was a barren, bleach-smelling room with a fishing show on the tube and the beer doled out in cans. So much for that.
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This one is a long two-story building on the north side of Wilson between Wolcott and Ravenswood. Ten apartments take up the second floor, but after climbing the stairs and winding through the hallway, you see that number three is clearly the flagship. With the main room’s 17-foot ceiling and that massive slanting window, you get the feeling that one whole wall is missing. And where, in all these 564 square feet, do you put the couch?
Sullivan, protective of former tenants, says that the place has long been home to artists. It’s certainly easy to imagine great canvases stacked along the walls in the northern exposure of the “Paris window.”
Later, back on the train as it creeps past the great window again, I look into a place that–for all its massive beauty and furnished only with a stepladder and an old refrigerator–is more neighborly than that little bar ever was. Through the window I see Jerry leaning in the doorway to the dining area. No trim khakis or pink bathrobes for that guy.
