Not So Grand
by admin
During a Saturday morning bike ride I passed a long abandoned building on west Grand Avenue that had always grabbed my attention but never held it. Chicago is filled with many such places, abandoned structures of little interest, nothing more than boarded up empty shells. I don’t usually waste my time with buildings like this, but here I was and one of the doors was pried open, so what the hey…
The inside was pretty much what I expected: dark and featureless, with the scent of “tinkle” floating in the air. I moved upstairs and found more of the same with slightly better light. I could only guess at what the building used to house, maybe a factory of some sort. I studied the graffiti on the walls–it looked like a storefront church/community center was recently here, but much of the religious decorations had been covered with gang signs.
Another part of the building looked like it used to be a living space for anarchist squatters. There was no sign of them now, except for the wall “art” they left behind. Apparently their dreams of living free from the restraints of capitalism didn’t quite pan out.
I wondered about the paint ball marks on the walls. I didn’t think that the squatters were responsible for them, but did the paint ballers come after the anarchists left? While I amused myself imagining weekend paintball warriors from the suburbs doing battle with punk squatters, a homeless man appeared from around the corner. “Oh, uh, I just sleep here…” he stammered, and I assured him that I was just taking photos. “I’m not supposed to be here either,” I joked.
I always feel awkward during these sort of encounters–here’s a guy just trying to find a quiet place to sleep and I’m taking photos of what is, for the moment, his home. After chatting for a few minutes, we parted ways and I headed for the roof.
The weather was gray and the neighborhood was drab, an industrial strip of junkyards and bland one and two story industrial buildings. The wind was getting cold, and after a few minutes I went back downstairs and headed out. I had seen enough.
(edit 2/19/08: Not long after I posted this, someone left a message on my flickr page saying that “Fire insurance maps from the 50s list this as ‘Poray, Inc.’ manufacturers of ‘metal specialties’. Pretty generic, eh?” Yup.)
I went to this place in the summer, it really smelled awful. I remember going up those stairs, the roof was open but the 2nd floor was tied shut with a rope from the back.
I worked for Poray, inc. for a summer when I was growing up in Chicago. I believe it was on Grand Ave., maybe not too far off of Homan ave. (Near Kedzie, Ave) It was a plating and metal finishing company, so there were a lot of chrome plating baths on the first floor, probably located on top of the concrete slab that the steps lead to in the picture. There were spray booths on the second floor and other areas up there where appliance shells were finished (I remember masking off Admiral TV shells for spraying.)
The workplace would be considered pretty primitive by today’s EPA and OSHA requirements. But it put a little change in this 15 year old’s pocket and keep me out of trouble along with a bunch of other teens. Larry Clemens
Thanks for the comment, Larry–I love to hear from people who have a history with the places I photograph. And yes, I could imagine that OSHA standards were a bit different back then.
I forgot to mention that I worked for Poray in the summer of 1952, as best I can figure. At that time there was an influx of Polish and other Eastern European familes that came into Chicago as they were able to leave the ravages of their countries and internment centers following World War II. They were universally referred to as “DPs” (Displaced Persons).
The most common language at Poray, was most likely Polish, or it at least ran neck to neck with English.
It was rumoured that the owner, Mr. Poranski, meet these folk as they got off the train or bus from Ellis Island in New York, and put them to work in his factory.
Larry Clemens
Thanks again Larry–I’ve actually been contacted by Mr. Poranski’s great-grandson, he sent me a few articles about the history of Poray. Looking at the building now, you’d have no idea it played such a major role in Chicago industry.