Block 6: “Soul City”
Block 6: “Soul City”
I’m back out West today on 46 E. Lotus, right next to the legendary MacArthur’s Restaurant. Everybody knows MacArthur’s for their soul food, but I would venture to say it goes beyond that– it’s the staff’s deep-rooted connection to the West Side community that makes it great. Celebrities from all over stop in to MacArthur’s, sort of like Ben’s Chili Bowl in D.C., and they take photos that are then hung on the wall. I always say you ain’t famous in Chicago until your picture is hanging at MacArthur’s.
I’m greeted at the beginning of the block by a little library. If you haven’t seen these before they’re small wood boxes that look like birdhouses but are filled with books that neighbors donate to whomever may be passing by. The difference is, this little library was stuffed with canned goods and toiletries. Love that. It really sets the tone for the whole block.
There’s only a few days left in summer and Mrs. Graham’s block is alive. It’s the West Side off of Madison so people are outside, for sure. A worker was on the roof of Mrs. Graham’s three-flat. She told me she’d finally been a beneficiary of the “Roof Lottery.” It’s an incredible program the city runs that offers grants to income-eligible homeowners for roof and porch repairs.
“Dang! My boiler needs to be replaced. Is there a lottery for that?!”
“Yeah,” says Mrs. Graham, “it’s called Ceda.” This lady does not mince words.
Mrs. Graham has been on this block for over 50 years. Her kids grew up here. She keeps the block in check by never changing her morals. “Im’a talk to them first,” she tells me in regards to people loitering and causing problems. She walks right up to folks and says “Baby, you can’t hang here.” And they don’t.
She’s an effective communicator. No amount of community policing or socially-tested deterrence measures can substitute for her words on this block. She’s disarming and empathetic but also forceful. She could be saying, “you can’t sell drugs here,” or “you can’t gangbang here,” or “you can’t do whatever you’re doing here,” but instead she says it full of love. Now, if you don’t heed her warning she will call the police, but it rarely comes to that.
Mrs. Graham used her My Block, My Hood, My City block club grant money to buy Ring security lights for everyone on the block and then used the leftovers for “little, simple things” like new locks on gates and fence repairs. “Take the grant money and put it into the block. No parties, no silly stuff.” She also pays a contractor to come once per month to cut the grass in empty lots. “Just fight for what’s yours,” she says. “You got to have a cause!”
At 80-years-old, Mrs. Graham is still outside everyday. It’s inspirational. You can talk about love for the block, but she shows it. She tells me that because they’re so close to the highway and there’s so many stores and restaurants nearby, people park in the neighborhood and just throw their trash on the ground. “I come out here everyday with a broom to sweep the block.” I suggested she take advantage of our trash bin program. We install two permanent trash bins at each end of the block and then employ a local student to come collect the bags.
But honestly, Mrs. Graham has plenty of ideas. She’s working with a group that brings literal goats to her block to feed on the overgrowth in the vacant lots. The goats eat grass and shrubs during the week and then the vacant lot becomes a petting zoo on the weekend. Mrs. Graham is a GOAT, for sure.
I’m really excited to work with folks like Mrs. Graham. She raises up her community and development follows. She showed me the 10-year plan for what’s being called “Soul City” with hopes of turning a 12-block section of Madison Ave. into a mecca for black-owned businesses. It’ll be no different than Chinatown or Greektown, or Devon Ave. up north. They’ve already got MacArthur’s and they hope that’s just the beginning.
Before I left the block y’all know I had to stop in for some BBQ chicken, yams, and macaroni. I ordered my food and someone behind the counter noticed my My Block, My Hood, My City shirt. Lo and behold (I didn’t plan this, wish I had!) God shined on me and one of the workers asked to take a photo. I couldn’t even believe it. “Let’s go take a picture with Jahmal next to Harold Washington’s photo,” they said. I don’t know if I’ve ever received a better compliment in my life. I feel like I’ve finally arrived.
