Thursday, September 30, 2021

World Communion Sunday is this coming Sunday

 Sunday October 3 is World Communion Sunday.  

As all my friends know, I am an amateur sleuth where World Communion Sunday is concerned.  Back in the 1990s I researched its history.  I had the joy of speaking with members of Shadyside Presbyterian Church and their families who remembered its origins there in 1933.  It was good to hear how the celebration came into being, and to record as much as I could learn about it.

You can find the article elsewhere on my blog and reprinted in other places as well.

Many many years later, I had the joy of serving as the Interim Senior Minister at Shadyside.  As one of my seminary friends said to me, "John, you are doing your dream job!"  And he was correct.  It was a delightful two years that was also the culmination of forty years of ordained ministry.  

Over the years, talking about World Communion  Sunday has been a part of who I am, as a lifelong friend of Shadyside.  Fast forward to the middle of the night, last night, when I received an email from Peter Bodnar who is the Director of Communications at Shadyside.  His message included the information that the new Senior Minister who has her inaugural Sunday this Sunday, was hoping to wear one of these discs, as part of the worship service, since the day is World Communion Sunday.  But, there were no discs to be found at the church.  

This came as a surprise to me.  I know that at one time all the ministers wore them.  On World Communion Sunday 2019, I wore one of them, which had been given to me personally.  I had encouraged the associate minsters to wear theirs, but they were reluctant to do so.  Even so, it seemed clear that they had them.  What's become of them since is something of an unanswered question.

At any rate, first thing this morning, I found my "Cal Wilson" disc in the home office, and then called Rev. Shelley and told her that I wanted to send it to her, for her use this Sunday, and whenever thereafter she deemed it appropriate.  

So, off to the USPS I went, and it is on the way - overnight mail.  It is scheduled to arrive tomorrow, so it will be there for Sunday's worship.




Here is the note that I sent with the World Wide Communion Disc today:

World Wide Communion Disc

Just a little bit history on this disk. It was created to be worn by the pastors of Shadyside Presbyterian Church on world communion Sunday. The inscription on the disc conforms with the inscription on the much larger disc in the center of the chancel at Shadyside.

When Calvin Coolidge Wilson was Associate Pastor at Shadyside, he spearheaded the creation of these. At about the same time, I researched and wrote an article that was published in the Presbyterian Association Musicians journal, outlining the history of World Communion Sunday.  When Cal retired from Shadyside, the church gave him a disc as a retirement gift keepsake. And then many years later, I had the joy of serving at Shadyside as the Interim Senior Minister.

In 2019, Cal was moving to be closer to his family, leaving the Pittsburgh area. One day he surprised me by coming to visit me at the church. In his hand was a box; in the box was his World Communion disc and chain. He knew how much I appreciated the history, and want to make sure that I had it, for myself.

It is a real treasure and a wonderful keepsake.

But even more, it’s part of the history of Shadyside Presbyterian Church. And I feel it’s very appropriate and fitting that it return to the church and be kept there for use on whatever World Communion Sundays the Senior Minister chooses to use it. Especially I think it’s a lovely item for this coming Sunday, as Reverend Shelley begins her time as Senior Minister.

So I hope that everyone through the years that has an opportunity to wear it at Shadyside will do so with joy, and appreciation the ongoing vitality and creativity of the congregation.


Tuesday, September 28, 2021

Looking at the Neighborhood...

 The past week or so has brought several occasions for me to take admiring glances at our neighborhood.




As you can see, it is very park like and lovely.  We enjoyed these same landscapes for 23 plus years when we lived here previously.  Those who follow me know that I enjoy what nature has to offer, whether here or elsewhere.  Some of my posts over that past several years have to do with northern scenery.  Which I also enjoy.  But every visit we made back to Florida over the past three years reminded me of how very lovely Central Florida is, both naturally and as planned by developers down the decades.



Both of our neighborhoods are what you would call planned suburban.  The one we lived in previously  was designed in the late 1970s, with a golf course at its center.  No, I do not golf.  But there is nothing as pretty as a well maintained course.  Our current neighborhood does not have that same feature in it, but it may have learned some things from earlier neighborhoods in the area.  Certainly by the early 1990s, the number of people golfing on a regular basis slacked way off.  And those who live here in Central Florida can rattle off the names of a number of courses that were here then and are here no longer, including Sabal Point Country Club, our son John leaded to golf, and Sweetwater Country Club.  Bothe of th one are now in fact newer streets with newly built homes and other amenities.

But as I said in an earlier post, I don't know of anywhere else where the general scenery as one drives along is so parklike and soothing.  Retention ponds are both necessary and mandated by local governments for the soughing off of excess water when we get our Florida rains.  Most of those are situated so that they not only reflect the blue skies and palm trees, but are also home to many water birds, and usually have a fountain feature somewhere in the middle of them.  And this is available to enjoy all yer long, since the pipes don't freeze and the ponds don't ice over.







This week, several neighbors reported seeing mama bears with their cubs, in they yards, not far from ours.  Annie and Steven see them on nearly a weekly basis on their ring camera.  And they live within walking distance of the high school in a neighborhood, not out in the country.  Red shouldered hawks, osprey, and bald eagles are all around (we like looking at the bald eagle nest when we go to Arby's for a fast meal).  Yes, natural beauty is available to people in many other places, but it seems more generally accessible here.  And it is one of the many reasons I enjoy living in Central Florida.




Collegiate Gothic Architecture Reconsidered

About Collegiate Gothic architecture. What are your thoughts?












If you had been asked that question in the first half of the 20th century, chances are your response would have been mostly positive. Here is a look that harkens back to the halls of academe in Britain, and evokes the aura of a world set apart for learning. Even before you know the reason for the building, it announces itself as serious, conservative, solid, venerable, imposing, permanent. Certainly, it can also incorporate elements of asymmetric charm and even a bit of whimsy. But the overriding effect is grand. 


Now, fast forward to the 1950s and the next several decades thereafter. What was being said about Collegiate Gothic architecture, then?


Not much good. Any of “the styles” were considered hopelessly passĂ©. Indeed, in the years I was at Penn State, one of the architecture professors - hello Roy! - gave an annual popular walking tour of the campus, for architecture students, mainly to poke fun at the many campus buildings with beaux arts, Romanesque revival, Georgian, or Collegiate Gothic leanings. In the know observers of the architectural scene could have told you about the International Style, and it’s contemporary offspring. These were considered worthy of note and of praise. But Collegiate Gothic?  Mere stage set dabbling. 


Of course, then as now, every city has a collection of Collegiate Gothic structures, most of which were conceived in the 1920s and 1930s, and still function as intended. Homes, schools, hospitals, churches, and more. They are part of the urban landscape. And can be found in many a village or open countryside.


There are subsets of the style. You might immediately think of the all-grey stone structures.  However, I am concentrating on a different look in this post.  One of these subsets is the red brick with finely crafted limestone trim genre. You probably have an example or two near you. Or may even live, work, or study in one of them.  Whether nearby, or your very own, how does it strike you?  Good?  Bad?  Indifferent?  


Where exactly does this red brick and whitish stone crisp style find its roots?  The answer is, in the realm of royalty. In one particular building. That is, Hampton Court Palace. Where red brick with stone detailing set the bar high for all that followed. Some photos of Hampton Court are interspersed with much newer buildings in the group above.  Can you tell which are which?


A visitor to Hampton Court may see elements of his college in Florida or apartment building in Manhattan. Of her local Methodist church, or quiet leafy suburb of character houses. Hampton Court is, at one and the same time, familiar and impressive to the American observer. "We have buildings like that, back home." And the architects would tell us, intentionally so. Stately, self-assured, dignified. In a way that even the finest International Style building seldom achieves. 


Do we admire these buildings enough to revisit them with the intention of settling aside the architectural critics’ penchant for dismissing them?  And are there lessons they can teach us about how we will live now, and in future?


Saturday, September 25, 2021

Charlie the gator!

Oak Island North Carolina has been a family destination since we were expecting son John. So more than 30 years. Every year we would drive down from Pittsburgh, and then we moved to Longwood, and we would drive up from Longwood. I always knew we were getting close, on the drive between 17 and Southport. Which meanders its way along the Cape Fear River estuary.


Year after year, we made the drive frequently. But in all those years we never stopped to see historic Brunswick Town. One day, it was just daughter Anne and I in the car. And I said to her, let’s go on this little side trip and see this Brunswick Town. So we got off the main road and we went down a little windy country road. Not far down the road we came to a big body of water on our right, that I later learned is Orton Pond. “Stop here, Dad,” said Anne.  She  wanted to take some photographs. So I pulled off, and we sat there at the side of the pond. Which was about eight or 10 feet lower than where we were parked. 


And she took the pictures from the passenger seat of the car. Neither of us got out.


After taking a few photos she turned to me and said, "I wonder if there any alligators in this pond?" At which point I focused my attention on the water and couldn’t quite believe what I saw. Because floating right there, not more than a foot or two off the shore, was a gigantic alligator. Both of us exclaimed about the fact that he’d been there all the time. In fact he showed up in some of the pictures that Anne had already taken.


When we got to the beach house Judy‘s mom and Judy were there. And I was telling them about this close encounter with the gator. And I said, "I wonder if there’s anything posted online about it." So I put in the words 'Brunswick Town' and 'gator'. And sure enough, a video came up, which has been on the Internet for a long time thereafter, but I can’t find it anymore.


In it, a husband and wife have parked us where we were parked. They got out of the car. And the wife says to the husband, "Where should I stand?"  She was right around the passenger front headlight. He said, "There is good." So she stood there with the backdrop of Orton Pond behind her. And then her husband called out in a very loud voice, “Hey Charlie! Hey Charlie!”


At that moment, from far across the pond, you could see movement. He focused in on it. Sure enough it was a big gator. He called out once or twice again and the big gator kept swimming directly to them. And ended up in the water in exactly the spot we had seen him the day we had stopped. I was fascinated. And figured that probably people over time have been feeding this gator, and the locals had dubbed him Charlie. 


Later in the week, our daughter‘s fiancĂ© Steven arrived by air the Wilmington airport. We went to pick him up. On the way back to Oak Island, I took the little side detour again. And parking where we parked before, I tried what the man in the video did. I called out, “Hey Charlie! Hey Charlie!”


And what I saw next was exactly the same as what was in that video. From far across the pond here came this giant alligator. And made a beeline directly for us. Until he stopped just offshore.


Which is plenty close enough. 


Charlie on the edge of Orton Pond



Charlie hovering just underwater near the shore, not the signpost




This is what is on the signpost



Charlie is hoping you will ignore the signpost



A look at Charlie's profile



Hey Charlie!


Here's a different video than the one I describe. Same gator. Same location. 


https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=EFcUXjROhHM


Thursday, September 23, 2021

Have You Settled In...?

That is a question I'm asked often these days.  

The answer is yes, and no.

Does the new house feel like home?  Are we glad we are here? Are we enjoying being near the children and grandchildren?  Are we happy to watch the arrival of cold and dreary weather up north and still have balmy weather to enjoy every day?  Are we glad to be reconnecting with long-familiar faces and places?  Have we visited some of our old favorite places and tried some new ones?

Yes to all of the above.




Have you unpacked all the boxes?  Have you found places for all your things? 

Nope.  Not yet.

But these are still early days.



What we have discovered is that our new house is ideally suited to our needs.  Even before we hung one piece of art on the wall, we looked at each other and said, "It feels like home".  What a blessing that is, considering that we found and bought the house without ever setting foot inside it.  We like our house, we like our neighborhood, we like being back in Central Florida. When I drive familiar roads, roads that I know like the back of my hand, I am continually moved by the beauty all around.  I don't know anywhere other than Florida where retention ponds are enhanced by fountains flowing deep and wide, palm trees standing tall at most intersections, ibis and egrets on the morning lawn, eagles and ospreys overhead, the occasional bear lumbering though the neighborhood, ever changing sunrises and sunsets that take your breath away.  


Ample parking anywhere you go (and no parking meters or parallel parking).  That in and of itself is reason to be glad. And looking ahead, no snow, no ice, no winter coats, no mittens, and no boots.  Been there.  Done with that.

We miss our Pittsburgh friends.  But they know the way to the Sunshine State, and we hope to see them here before long.  We miss being at Shadyside Presbyterian Church; what a wonderful congregation!  And we know that they will always be in our hearts.

So then there is that other question I keep getting asked:

"What are you doing in retirement?"

First here is what I am NOT doing:  Going to evening meetings.  Directing a fall Stewardship campaign.  Practicing diplomatic management of a large and sometimes cantankerous staff (I would name names here, but I am saving that for the "Memoirs"!). Commuting morning and evening.  Dealing with church politics coming from outside the congregation.  Ugh.  Do I miss any of these things?  Not one little bit. I suppose somewhere on the planet is someone who enjoys them all.  I wish them well, and I am glad I am not them.

So here is what I AM doing in retirement"  Spending time with extended family.  Writing. (Including on this blog, where I am as I say, telling truth as it needs to be told).  Photography.  Reading.  Vintage shopping and vintage watch collecting.  Hymn writing.  Getting up and going to bed when I darn well please.  Whether it is earlier or later than what was once customary.  Not setting an alarm.  Attending whatever worship services I choose to on Sunday mornings, virtually, in casual clothes, no ties, no robe, no microphones.  Looking forward to a trip to the Holy Land.  Working on the house.  

Do you miss full time ministry?  No.  That was then.  Forty years of then.  It was a joy and honor to serve; but I cannot say that I am pining away for it.

Stay tuned for late breaking reports!






Inspiration? You bet!

 One of the joys of living in Central Florida all those years we were on Coble Drive was this...


Whenever there was a launch from over at the Cape, we could see it.  I don't mean that we hopped in our car and headed over to the coast to see it up close and personal.  Although we did that from time to time.  I don't mean that I took a ride in a private plane that was given a heading to track the launch from no more than 10 miles away, and up there in the sky.  Although I had the joy of doing that, too.


No I mean that we could step out our front door and watch the launch from our own little corner...


We hardly missed a launch in all of those years. Our usual pattern was to watch the countdown on WESH, and then when we heard them say, "Lift off", we went out the door and looked to the east, and a bright light appeared in the sky, signifying that the launch was happening.  And there it would go.  Up, up, and away!


It NEVER got old.


It was just as thrilling the 30th time as it was the first.


And then the Space Shuttle program ended.  The eastern skies became quieter.  Oh there were satellite launches from Patrick AFB and so forth.  But it wasn't quite the same.


And then we had a few years in Pittsburgh.  As much as we enjoyed our time beging back in the Burgh, there was no possible way we could watch a launch in the skies overhead.  We were simply too far away.


All that has changed.  We are back in Central Florida, living in our new house which is only a few miles from our old  house.  This past week was when the first all non-professional crew went up and went into orbit for several days.  We did our usual thing.  WESH was on.  The countdown happened.  We stepped out the door.  And there it was for us to see.  Inspiration4, on its September 16, 2021 Space Launch; SpaceX Dragon, in the sky over Central Florida.



The launch from our front yard.

Wow!  Wonderful!  What a thrill!


We are looking forward to watching many more such launches as time unfolds.  


A few moments later - booster separation


Photographs and text: Copyright © 2021, John A. Dalles.  All rights reserved.

Where are the Kids?

In a publication this week by Pittsburgh Presbytery, one of the presbytery staff members asks and attempts to answer the questions:


Why aren’t families coming back to church? Where are the kids?


I think he is looking in the wrong places.  The church that I am most familiar with, that I served for 23 years, has an abundance of kids that show up every Sunday, take part in Sunday school, come forward for the children sermon, and are involved in the greater life of the church. There’s no perceptible difference between the number of children participating now, and the number of children participating before the coronavirus. I attribute that to the faith and constancy of the families, and the outstanding leadership of the professional and volunteer providers of children’s ministry at the church.





Can their efforts be duplicated elsewhere? It is a question that remains to be seen. It must be taken on a case by case basis.


Certainly having an outstanding professional person on staff to create and direct children’s ministry can go a long way. The church of which I speak has this and more in its D C E.


There can - in contrast - be those who have a good theological background and who bring good content, but don’t have a personal appeal that connects with the children. If they don’t have that, then they might just as well not have the other things. In the church that I served here in Florida, the Director of Christian Education has that and more. As did others in that role in other churches I served.  It has a lot to do with why the children are there. The parents sense the unconditional positive regard, the depths of faith, and the spark of creativity that it takes to make children feel seen and welcome. It is a  tremendous asset, and one that cannot be easily defined. People either have these gifts, or they do not. And I’m not sure that they can be taught or cultivated. Perhaps they can.


What does it mean to have a group of parents who are especially focused on creating involvement at the church so that the children can learn and grow in the faith? 


Read that sentence over a couple of times and realize that I’m not saying that we have a group of parents who are committed to having someone else do for them what they should be involved in themselves. It's hands-on parents, in the situation I’m speaking of. They make children’s faith formation their priority. They make time for it, they share in the doing of it, and they speak to the children appreciatively about it. Not only that, but as a group of parents, they keep each other accountable in this regard. In an era in which no one wants to be accountable for anything, that alone is worth its weight in gold.


If you find that your church does not have these elements, then you are probably wondering where the children of God have gone.


Questions concerning mask wearing and vaccination aside, these things are what it takes to have an ongoing program where children are welcome.


There’s probably a lot more that should be said about attitude. The  attitude is not, "We hope one day eventually they will show up". But rather, "We know they’re going to come". Does it sounds simplistic? Does it sound optimistic? Maybe it’s both of those things, but mostly it’s an attitude of trust, and expectation.


When we look at the Bible, we see that God's people are all about trust and expectation. 


In fact you can find that theme on every page of the Bible. Even some otherwise boring long passages of genealogy, or how to design the furniture for the Temple. Oh yes, even in some of those arcane ritualistic laws that most modern people forget about (unless one or the other of them provides fodder for some pet argument they are engaged in).


But I digress.  On every page of scripture, people are hopeful. On every page of scripture, people are expectant.  On every page of scripture, people trust in the Lord.


During a different kind of a crisis that we now call the Reformation, one of the church leaders that we look back to for guidance and direction had a similar approach. His personal motto was: The Lord will provide. 


Where did he get that? Of course, he got it from the account of Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac. There they were, heading out into the scrub, to offer a sacrifice. But there was no sacrificial lamb. Isaac asked his father. "Where is the lamb for the sacrifice?" And Abraham said, "The Lord will provide". And the Lord did provide. It was an 11th hour moment, to be sure.  But there was a lamb, stuck in a bush.  The point of the matter is the Lord did provide.


Trust that the Lord is going to provide for you, and then go ahead and do all the things that you need to do anyway. Faithfully. Trustingly. Expectantly. Hopefully. Move forward. And sacrifice something of yourself. Put your whole self into the effort. If it’s a children’s ministry, ask yourself. "How can I help make that happen? Can I teach or lead a fellowship group? Can I provide snacks for special events? Can I be a chaperone? Can I tell the person that we’re employee in the church they’re doing a good job. And can I do that on a regular basis to help them know that what they’re doing it soon and appreciate it?"


And what’s the opposite of that?  I hate to even mention it because of course it shows a lack of faith. A wringing of the hands. A wondering if God is going to do some thing. Wondering if God is going to answer prayers. And then taking the personal stance, "Well if nothing's happening I’m going to do nothing, too."


How ridiculous is that, really?


Now, some of you are going to tell me that going through Covid is kind of like going through a tunnel. Before we went through the tunnel, everything was bright and sunny. There was a path, and we knew how to find it. We knew where we were going. And then all the sudden we were plunged into this dark place, where we really didn’t have much of an ability to see where we were going, it was hard to get our bearings. Are you with me so far? It feels like Covid, doesn’t it?





Okay, what do we know about a tunnel? We know it is not a cave. Eventually we’re going to come out the other end. And what do we see at the other end? A whole new landscape opens up to us, doesn’t it? There may be things on that side we never dreamed of or imagined. It might be a sort of wonderland. A land of milk and honey. 


Now, that’s the kind of attitude that it takes for a successful program in the church, no matter what, and particularly having to do with children and youth.


But you’re not going to get to the end of the tunnel by sitting there midway in the dark, waiting for somebody to carry you out. And you’re not going to have a successful children's program, if you don’t put some effort into it yourself. If there isn’t a portion of every week that you have set aside to be actually helpful in the children’s and youth program of your church, so that you can become an asset and not a liability.


It’s just that some simple.


Where are the kids?  The answer is clear: Where are YOU?


Photographs and text: Copyright © 2021, John A. Dalles.  All rights reserved.

Wednesday, September 22, 2021

Walter Burley Griffin, Beverly, Chicago, (and More!)

So here’s a question:

If you are an architecture fan, and you have a few hours extra to spare while in Chicago, where will you go?

That is not an easy question to answer. Chicago is perhaps the foremost city in the world for great architecture. For a lot of different reasons. One can see the entire development of the skyscraper, simply by walking around the Loop.  I encourage you to do that if you have the opportunity. 

Or go directly west to the first suburb after the city limits, Oak Park, and you can bask in a collection of buildings from the prime era of the Prairie School movement, and even tour inside several buildings that were designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. Walk about, or press your nose to the glass of your vehicle, as you drive past many others. It’s sort of the architectural version of DisneyWorld. All quite beautiful, and a bit overwhelming.  

Or, just a smidgen to the west, is the sister suburb of River Forest, where you can see more of the same. And I should say in addition to the architecture that came out of Frank Lloyd Wright's Oak Park studio, you can also see wonderful work by many of his contemporaries. Some of them worked with him for a time--such as Isabel Roberts (who was in fact an architect), William Drummond, and John Van Bergen. Others did not.

If you want to see the most innovative school of the mid 20th century, then you want to see the New Trier High School.

You could do an all Joseph Lyman Silsbee tour of the city, or an all Mies van der Rohe tour, or an all Louis Sullivan tour, and barely scratch the surface.  Don't forget about beloved Uncle Dan Burnham...

If you want to see one of the first planned suburbs with meandering streets anywhere in the world, then you want to go out to Riverside, where you will enjoy works by a number of notable architects, all residential. Frederick Law Olmsted who designed Central Park in New York City was the genius behind Riverside.  It is still a suburb in great demand, more than 125 years later.

If you’re thinking that this is about a week's worth of architectural sightseeing (and you haven’t quite got started yet), you are correct.

In the midst of all of that Chicago Architectural Wonderland is a little street that sometimes gets overlooked. People say to themselves, "We don’t have time to go there and do that and see that and so forth". I understand that. Over the course of many years of visiting in Chicago, I never got there. Until a trip to Chicago that had absolutely nothing to do with architecture provided me with a few extra hours to do as I pleased. In Beverly is a cluster of homes designed by Walter Burley Griffin, one of the architects working with Frank Lloyd Wright in Oak Park, who contributed to the development of prairie style architecture.


There’s a street in Beverly that is like a miniature Oak Park with many a home designed by 
Walter Burley Griffin, in full collaboration with with his wife Marion Mahony Griffin, also an "alumni" of the Oak Park studio. 

The photos that I made that day, are without question, the highlight of my visit to Chicago four years ago. 


Quite apart from the reason for going to Chicago, I spent a very pleasant several hours strolling past these various 
Walter Burley Griffin designed houses. And photographing them from the public sidewalk, which I always encourage people to do when they go to see architecturally significant homes, because most of the homes are still private residences and lived in by people who, though they may be very appreciative and take good care of them, are not actually thrilled to have people tripping across their lawn, peeking in their windows, coming up on the porch, and so forth. Trust me, you don’t want to do this. Even if you think to yourself, "Well other people have surely done it." Let me say again: Don’t.

The impression that one gets when visiting these 
Walter Burley Griffin homes is that they are modest. They are definitely middle class homes, anything but pretentious. So they would not appeal to people who are impressed by vast square footage and a superabundance of dubious glitz. They sit comfortably on their lots, but they don’t announce themselves dramatically. If one were to drive down the street knowing nothing whatsoever about architecture, one might notice there’s something different in their style from other homes that one sees, but there is nothing that would make one's chin drop open and say, "Wow look at that place!"

As I say, the houses are mostly modest. They whisper or hum; they do not shout.  

They’re mostly stucco. And they tend to have dark brown wood trim. Those who have studied prairie style architecture will say they are firmly in the genre of similar homes, such as the Willits or the DeRhodes or the Ziegler, or ever-so-many other houses in the Midwest that are part of the Oak Park studio's output. 

That’s no surprise. Because Walter Burley Griffin had a lot to do with developing that style.

Walter Burley Griffin was a valuable and hard-working member of the Oak Park studio staff. He eventually had a falling out with Wright over not being paid. It’s funny about employees, but they do like to be paid for their work.

People who are cavalier about money, and Frank Lloyd Wright is the top of the list in that regard, sometimes get their feathers ruffled when someone who has worked hard for them has their hand out and says, "You owe me three months back salary", or something similar.  Funny, that.

So, the association with Wright ended. Griffin was out on his own designing buildings, quite successfully, with the able collaboration of Marion Mahony Griffin, an architect in her own right, and Walter’s wife. 

In Beverly, this cluster houses is part of the result.

People who are slavishly devoted to the point of blindness to Frank Lloyd Wright will point to these little houses in Beverly (if they bother at all), and say, "Look how Walter borrowed from Frank in order to create these houses."  Well, please take a deep breath. Because the reality is the opposite.  Many of the stylistic elements that one thinks of as quintessential Prairie Style were developed by 
Walter Burley Griffin while working for Frank Lloyd Wright.

What happened next?  After Walter designed these lovely little houses, he won a prestigious international competition, that many architects entered, to design the new capital city of Australia, Canberra.

The result of winning that competition was that he was engage to make it into reality. Which meant leaving the United States and going to Australia.  There, Walter Burley Griffin and Marion Mahony Griffin are justifiably remembered and honored as extremely gifted architects. As national treasures. The lake at Canberra is named in their honor.  I don't know of a body of water in Washington DC named for Mr. Wright, do you?

Meanwhile back in United States, Frank Lloyd Wright was struggling to recover from the damage that he inflicted upon himself by running off to Europe with his mistress, Mamah Borthwick Cheney, and the resultant loss of business. Wright's world was egocentric in the extreme.
  The day was good if it was good for him, and it was bad if it was bad for him. The world of architecture was good if people were showering him with praise. And if they didn’t bother to praise him, he praised himself, long and loud, as he was won't to do.

But Wright did not stop at praising himself. He continued by putting down other people who had ever work for him.  If they went on to their own successes, they fell afoul of him.  

Wright was extremely jealous of Walter's success. It came just at a time when Wrights architectural career was on the skids. Wright never got over his bad habit of trying to erase others'  accomplishments. He did with the other Oak Park era folks as well. To his discredit. He, and the world, would’ve been better served had he said in effect , "Look at what a wonderful judge of talent I am, to have found these people and brought them into my studio, and let their talent shine as they worked for me."

But Wright wasn’t that kind of a guy was he?

I’ll go on, below, to talk about each of these houses individually.  But I do also want to say that a happy sidelight of this happy side trip was that there was a gentleman moving a car out of his driveway and onto the street as I was quietly sauntering past looking at one of the houses and taking as subtle a photograph as I could, so as not to be intrusive. He noticed me, invited me into his Walter Burley Griffin home, gave me a tour, and told me about the many years of living in his home. He introduced me to his wife, who may or may not have been somewhat surprised to see a stranger in her home...

Do you hear that? Someone in Chicago who was a stranger and who wasn’t expecting me, invited me into their home. Showed me around. Made me feel welcome.

Which reminds me of Matthew 25:35:

"I was a stranger - and you invited me into your home."

How does St. Paul put it in Romans 12:13?  Oh yes:

"Always be eager to practice hospitality."

BUT NOW, ON TO THE HOUSES...!


The story of how Griffin came to Beverly is an interesting part of local history.

The land that includes what is now Griffin Place was part of a “gentleman’s farm” owned by Samuel J. Wells, a meat packing company buyer.

Wells was born in 1858 in Birmingham, England, and immigrated to the U.S. in 1872. There are several mentions, in 1877 and 1883, of patents being granted to a Samuel J. Wells of Chicago, if that is the same man. The patents were for a hair loop to help with braiding hair, and a trunk fastener.

Wells’ older brother, Thomas, owned a large amount of stock in the Continental Packing Co., where Wells worked as a buyer. In 1908, Wells opened his own company as a commissioned buyer of hogs.

His wife was Helen Nash, and the 1900 U.S. Census listed the Wells Family living at 10407 S. Wood St. Their original house still stands, although it has been significantly altered and the address changed due to city renumbering. The 1910 U.S. Census listed Wells as a “squab raiser.” Those young domestic pigeons were a culinary delicacy.

In 1909, Wells’ daughter, Helen, became engaged to Russell L. Blount, manager of the real estate department for a bank. By that time, Wells was interested in developing his Beverly land for housing, and he gave the couple a lot on which to build.

Frank Lloyd Wright had built several homes in Beverly, including the Evans House on Longwood Drive, introducing the area to this innovative new Prairie style. It’s possible that Blount was actually interested in hiring Wright, but a visit to Wright’s studio led him to meet another architect working there, Griffin.

He designed a house for Blount, and during construction, Edmund C. Garrity, a plumbing contractor made Blount a substantial offer for the property; so, Blount sold him the “wedding” house. Thus, in 1909, the first Griffin home, the Edmund C. Garrity House, was built at 1712 W. 104th Pl. The cost was $4,000.

Spurred by the need for a home of his own and encouraged by the sale of the first house, Blount decided to become a developer and secured more plans from Griffin. Several more houses were built, and then in 1912, Griffin won a prestigious international competition to—literally—design Canberra, the capital city of Australia.

Griffin moved to Australia, where he remained until another commissioned project took him to India in 1935, where he died unexpectedly a few years later.

After Griffin left, Blount continued to build houses based on Griffin’s designs - three based on the Van Nostrand House (Williams, Hornbaker, and Clarke), and one based on the Salmon House (Furneaux) - and later worked with other architects. 

Blount also continued to work in banking, and he was an officer with the Commonwealth Trust and Savings Bank, which was a successful bank of its time.

Blount and Wells started up several construction companies in the area, including the Longwood Hills Construction Co. and the Tracy Ridge Company. One of the original Griffin homes was actually built for Wells, but Wells never lived in the house and rented it instead to Walter D. Salmon, for whom the house is named. Salmon later bought the house.

Unfortunately, the story does not have a happy ending for either of the men who brought Griffin to Beverly.

On Aug. 14, 1915, Wells, 56, and his son Raymond, 22, were killed when their automobile was demolished by a train near Aurora. It was not clear how the accident occurred. They were out for an afternoon of sightseeing, and Wells was considered an excellent driver. But, who was actually driving the car at the time and why the auto was on the tracks remains a mystery.

On Nov. 16, 1933, Blount, 57, was shot in the chest at his home, 1740 W. 104th Pl., and died three days later in the hospital.

At the time, he owned a mortgage brokerage and was the manager of a currency exchange. Three men came to his home in an apparent kidnapping attempt, intending to take him to the currency exchange to force him to open the safe. He drove them off with a tear gas gun shaped like a fountain pen, but Blount was shot in the process.

Blount’s next-door neighbor, Walter Salmon, was also the vice president of Blount’s mortgage concern. Salmon reported that Blount had been held up several years prior at his office. He also reported that the kidnappers would have found no money at the currency exchange, as it had all been taken to the bank via armored truck earlier in the day.

At the coroner’s jury, Blount’s son, Lauren, reported that his father feared kidnappers the week before. The jury returned a verdict that Blount was killed by persons unknown.

Beverly’s Griffin homes were all but forgotten for decades until a 1973 article in The Prairie School Review brought them back to the public’s attention. The article praised Blount for his courage and vision in promoting early modern architecture.

The Harry G. Van Nostrand House
1666 W Walter Burley Griffin Place
1911

This is a small house that was built as a speculative rental property.  Harry G. Van Nostrand was the first renter.  The exterior shows the typical stucco and dark wood construction popularized by the Prairie Style.  The geometric design in the front gable over the screened porch is a recognizable motif used by Griffin often, to create interest without adding cost.  The house plan is compact.  The long-time owners utilized the screened porch as a fair weather living room. The floor plan is a smaller version of the Garrity House, below.

The Edmund C. Garrity House
1712 West 104th Place
1909

The Garrity House - also  known as "The Wedding House" - was the first of the Walter Burley Griffin houses to be built in Beverly.  It was originally intended to be the home of Russell and Helen Blount, as noted above.  However, it was sold to Mr. Garrity before they ever there.  Originally the home was finished in the  usual light color stucco with dark brown wood banding. Over the years, it has had modifications to the color scheme.  The photo shows it in its 2017 livery.

This pink and blue fantasy is probably not what the Griffins had in mind when they designed the house, but no matter, it brings a bit of whimsy and more than a taste of the islands to often-dreary Chicago.  The home sold in recent years and has undergone an exterior color scheme change since I took the photo in my famous visit to Chicago in 2017.  Certain elements of the home suggest that Marion had a great deal to do with this particular design.  The window fretwork especially.  The protecting cantilevered pergola at the center of the front facade is also a stylistic device Marion used elsewhere. And that Wright would later "borrow" on houses such as Fallingwater. 
 
About the client / first resident: Edmund C. Garrity was born in Illinois in 1880. By 1940 he lived at 8011 Maryland Avenue in Chicago.  Edmund C. Garrity died in Chicago on December 3, 1950.  His obituary states the following:

Mr. Garrity was born near Chatsworth, a son of the late Mr. and Mrs. M. Garrity. He went to Chicago as a young man and has continued to make that city his home since and gained prominence in the Chicago business world as the owner and operator of the National Plumbing and Heating Company. He was associated in the business with his three sons, who now carry on.  He is survived by his wife Mary Jane, and four sons, Edmond, Jr., Donald E. and John J. Garrity; two brothers James, of Pontiac and Leo F. Garrity, of Chicago and two sisters, Mrs. Margaret O'Brien and Mother Una. His final resting place is the St. Mary's Cemetery in Chatsworth.

By the way, uninformed writers tend to sometimes call Walter a landscape architect (yes, he did landscape designs and well as houses and other buildings), and they sometimes get further mixed up and attribute this to Marion or call her a "delineator" (which she was in addition to being an architect, and quite talented in that regard).  Please, people, give them their due.  There's certainly every reason to be proud to be a landscape architect or a delineator  Even so, in the Griffins' case, both were architects.  Read all about both of them on their Wikipedia entries.

The Russel L Blount I House
1724 W Griffin Place
1909

The Prairie School movement made a concentrated effort to create inexpensive homes. Or perhaps better stated, affordable homes.  If you see a genuine Prairie School such as the Blount I, you will note that it is essentially a cube (which more or less flies the the face of Wright's "breaking out of the box" concept.  This is one of many Prairie School houses, whether architect-designed or kit houses from Chicagoland, that makes use of the economical and compact use of materials.  Inside, it has a plan that is semi-open and revolves around the central fireplace.  in that and in other respects, it is part of the family of houses  based on the $5000 "Ladies Home Journal" house (see my previous post, and see the Blount I plan, below). As with most of the Beverly houses, this one displays the use of stucco and dark wood. 


The Harry F. Newland House
1737 W. Griffin Place
1912

The Newland house is particularly pleasing with its use of wood for the first floor and stucco for the portion of the second floor from the windowsills upward.  This provides a visual grounding for the house, and ties the window design together upstairs, as if the windows were more numerous and grouped together, as is often the case in Prairie School houses.  Obviously, this arrangement of paired windows is simpler to achieve and permits a greater flexibility in plan, in a smaller house.  To avoid looking boxy, the house has the front projecting one story gabled wing, In this case, it was probably an open porch, later enclosed somewhat effectively.  Many of the Prairie School houses had this exact same remodeling feature at some point along the way, so that the owners had full use or what would otherwise be a May to September space in the Windy City.  This house was begun by Griffin and completed by Spencer and Powers, who were also noted Prairie School architects of the era, and who are usual listed as the architects of record for this house.

Harry F. Newland was born in England in 1866.  He married Gladys Perryer.  Their son Harry Montague Newland was born in 1889.  

The Arthur G Jenkinson and William N Clarke Houses


The Blount I House



Blount I House - First Floor Plan

The William N Clarke House
1731 W Griffin Place
1913

The Clarke House is a variation on the Van Nostrand House which is hard to guess, because it is shifted on the lot 90 degrees, and has lost its porch.  Even so, the Clarke House may be the purest statement of Griffin's aesthetic in this cluster of houses, as it follows precise geometry and its spare use of wood banding dramatically emphasizes the overhanging gable.  The wood banding that follows the slope of the roof gable has the visual effect of diminishing the perceived height of the house, and therefore tying it more artistically to the ground - a way of emphasizing the horizontal line of the prairie.  Observers often mention that this house seems the most Asian inspired of the group, and they would not be incorrect.  The corner windows do a good deal to help the house break out of the box, especially from the inside looking out.  Somewhat unusual for many of the Prairie School houses, the grouped windows here in the gable, and elsewhere on Walter Burley Griffin Place, are of an even number.  So often Wright used group windows, but almost without exception, there were an odd number of them (5 rather than 4, for example).  The Jenkinson House (below) is another instance of Griffin's freedom to use the more static even number of grouped windows than odd. 


The Arthur G. Jenkinson House
1727 W Griffin Place
1912

Perhaps the best feature of this house is the interplay between the tall "shoulders" of the corners and the downward flare of the centered window design.  Imagine both of them gone, and a  unified exterior of wood or brick, and suddenly the house becomes much more conventional in nature.  The dark wood board and batten cladding has the horizontal line that Prairie School architects so consistantly  strived for.  The banding (one could almost say it is half-timbering) is bold and pleasing.  As with the neighboring Clarke House, the sedan floor banding follows the line of the gable, and for the same reason, to visually tie the house to the ground.  For another view of the house see the next photo.

Arthur G. Jenkinson was born August 18, 1885 in Michigan.  He was the son of a Presbyterian minister.  Arthur died on February 1, 1974. His final resting place is Mount Auburn Cemetery in Harvard, Illinois.  He was married to Hester T. Guild Jenkinson (1891-1957).  She was a talented vocalist and sang in many local concerts.  On June 19, 1913, she and Arthur were married.

When Hester Thompson Guild was born on 1 October 1891, in Arlington Heights, Cook, Illinois, United States, her father, William Wyckoff Guild, was 43 and her mother, Adella Marie Thompson, was 34. 


Hester was born to real estate agent W. William Guild and his wife Adell, and grew up in Arlington Heights, Illinois. She was active in both church and high school activities including writing for the school magazine and participating in oratory contests. She was a talented vocalist and sang at many local concerts. On June 19, 1913, she married Arthur Gilbert Jenkinson, the son of the Presbyterian minister. Arthur worked as a carpenter and builder. Hester and Arthur are known to have lived in Tracy, Chicago; Maine Township, Illinois; and South Bend, Indiana. Hester T. Jenkinson passed away July 31, 1957 at about 65 years of age. Arthur G. Jenkinson passed away in February, 1974, at about 89 years of age.


She married Arthur G Jenkinson on 19 June 1913, in Arlington Heights, Cook, Illinois, United States. She lived in Maine Township, Cook, Illinois, United States in 1930 and Park Ridge, Maine Township, Cook, Illinois, United States in 1940. She died on 31 July 1957, at the age of 65, and was buried in Mount Auburn Cemetery, Harvard, McHenry, Illinois, United States. 


Hester Jenkinson at age 22 can be seen here:

More about Arthur's step-father here:

Rev. Henry S. Jenkinson, who was pastor of the Arlington Heights Presbyterian church from 1913 to 1925, died Saturday at his home 1669 W. 104th place, Chicago. Funeral services were held Tuesday with interment in Mount Hope cemetery. Among the pallbearers were Henry F. Muller and Burton Noyes of Arlington Heights.
The deceased was one of the oldest members of the Chicago Presbytery. He was ordained in Canada in 1881, came to Chicago in 1891, serving as Presbyterian pastor at South Chicago, Seventh church, Scotch Westminster, West Pullman, and Arlington Heights. He retired from the ministry and moved to the family home in Beverly when he resigned from the Arlington church in 1925.
Rev. Jenkinson was born Oct. 9, 1856 in Sheltenham, Gloustershire, England, coming to America in 1869. Mrs. Jenkinson died 13 years ago. He is survived by his two daughters, Edith and Jennie, and a son, Arthur G. of Park Ridge. - August 3, 1945


The Jenkinson House

In the view from the sidewalk, the house takes on a symmetrical aspect that is almost ecclesiastical in nature.  Before the projecting porch was enclosed, the blend between outdoors and indoors wold have been less rigid, visually.  This is another iteration of the $5000 house type, but so deftly done, the house seems anything but boxy.  This might be a  good place to mention that the front door to the house is not located in a place that is obvious.  It is hidden, from casual passers-by on the sidewalk, and this is on purpose.  It is also quite unlike 99 percent of the builder houses or houses designed by architects not of the Prairie School.  The interest in providing privacy as well as an indoor-outdoor connection prompted the positioning of the main entry in a subtle location, so that one "discovered" it as one approached the house, and such a discovery, it is assumed, was done by those who were invited, or friends of the owner.  The resultant sense of mystery and charm is one of the delightful hallmarks of Prairie School design.  


William R. Hornbaker House
1710 W 104th Street
1914

This is a little gem of a Prairie School house and is a variation of the Clarke House.  If you think it is veering toward the Tudor-esque you are not alone.  Aspects of the house suggest that aesthetic, but even so, the familiar Griffin motif of the wood following the line of the gable is present here.  Tudor homes would never have used such a design detail.  See as well that the windows, while grouped as is expected in a Prairie School house, are even in number, not odd in number.  A Griffin "give away".  I doubt the second floor window box was part of the original design but it is inoffensive, and in fact has some connection to the planting boxes used in the various versions of the $5000 houses.


William Russell Hornbaker, 1870 - 1933
William Russell Hornbaker was born on month day 1870, at Yountsville, Indiana, to Albert T Hornbaker and Susan Elvira Hornbaker (born Price) Albert was born on October 6 1846, in Ripley, Montgomery, Indiana, USA. Susan was born on June 22 1847, in Cass County, Indiana, USA. William had one sister: Sarah Price Hornbaker William married Mary D Hornbaker (born Rogers) in 1893, in Illinois. Mary was born on July 1864, in New York, USA. They had one son: Albert Rogers Hornbaker William then married Esther R Hornbaker (born Perry) in 1916, at age 46 in Illinois. Esther was born on November 5 1871, in Clifton, Iroquois, Illinois, USA. William passed away in 1933, at age 63 in Florida.



Ida E. Wiliams House
1632 W 104th Street
1913

This is the sister of the Van Nostrand House shown first on the list. So it is pleasant to compare them.  Both have L shaped plans thanks to the offset front porch.  This one is enclosed, and may have been from the get-go.  The fenestration certainly looks authentic.  Note the clever use of the angles in the central portion of the windows there.  Other similarities include the horizontal wood banding, to make the house look longer rather than taller.  Just like when a person wears horizontal or vertical stripes.  It is subtle but effective in both houses. 

A collage of the Walter Burley Griffin Place Houses

Have a look at the following, which is the 1973 Prairie School Review article by Paul E. Sprague that reignited the interest in these houses after many years of obscurity:


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