Chereads / twenty years at hull house / Chapter 68 - Pg.86

Chapter 68 - Pg.86

but to close a side door opening on Polk Street, and were much pleased

in the morning to find that we possessed a tine illustration of the honesty and kindliness of our new neighbors.

Our first guest was an interesting young woman who lived in a

neighboring tenement, whose widowed mother aided her in the support of the family by scrubbing a downtown theater every night. The

mother, of English birth, was well bred and carefully educated, but was

in the midst of that bitter struggle which awaits so many strangers in

American cities who find that their social position tends to be measured solely by the standards of living they are able to maintain. Our

guest has long since married the struggling young lawyer to whom she

was then engaged, and he is now leading his profession in an eastern

city. She recalls that month's experience always with a sense of amusement over the tact that the succession of visitors who came to see the

new Settlement invariably questioned her most minutely concerning

"these people" without once suspecting that they were talking to one

who had been identified with the neighborhood from childhood. I at

least was able to draw a lesson from the incident, and I never addressed

a Chicago audience on the subject of the Settlement and its vicinity

without inviting a neighbor to go with me, that I might curb any hasty

generalization by the consciousness that I had an auditor who knew

the conditions more intimately than I could hope to do.

Halsted Street has grown so familiar during twenty years of residence, that it is difficult to recall its gradual changes, —the withdrawal

of the more prosperous Irish and Germans, and the slow substitution of

Russian Jews, Italians, and Greeks. A description of the street such as

I gave in those early addresses still stands in my mind as sympathetic

and correct.

Halsted Street is thirty-two miles long, and one of the great

thoroughfares of Chicago; Polk Street crosses it midway between

the stockyards to the south and the ship-building yards on the

north branch of the Chicago River. For the six miles between

these two industries the street is lined with shops of butchers and

grocers, with dingy and gorgeous saloons, and pretentious establishments for the sale of ready-made clothing. Polk Street, running west from Halsted Street, grows rapidly more prosperous;

running a mile east to State Street, it grows steadily worse, and

crosses a network of vice on the corners of Clark Street and Fifth