salvaging the horribly neglected 1894 ywca building shortly before demolition in 2009

i was given unfettered access to carefully document and subsequently salvage the 19th century young women's christian association hotel building  (later known as 830 s. michigan avenue hotel) shortly before it was demolished in the winter of 2009. 

the seven-story combination red brick and terra cotta hotel located at 830 south michigan avenue it was designed by chicago architect john m. van osdel ii, nephew of prominent chicago architect john mills van osdel, with construction of the property on spread foundations completed in 1895. the late 19th century hotel was one of the oldest ywca buildings left standing in the country, and was the first to be built in the city of chicago. the ywca was pivotal in housing newly arrived working women following the 1893-1894 "columbian exposition" or chicago world's fair.

the hotel location was near the illinois central railroad station and stood a reasonable distance from the heart of the loop. it was was designed to take advantage of views along michigan avenue and the lake, with projecting triangular bay windows on the top floors and a renaissance inspired loggia dressed in ornamental terra cotta on the second floor.

in 1929, the building was converted into the south michigan hotel. in the 1970's the hotel was purchased by johnson publications and converted into offices. once the publishing house moved to a new location, the building quickly fell to into disrepair, with vandalism and exposure to the elements (the roof had collapsed by the time we arrived). since the badly dilapidated building was structurally compromised, essentially having been abandoned for nearly thirty years, the building succumbed to the wrecking ball in 2009. the demolition took place despite protest to at least preserve the facade -- in the interest of preventing a newly-built eyesore from disrupting the delicate fabric known as the historic "michigan avenue district."

the images below not only show how badly neglected the interior was (no other interior images i know of exist), but demonstrate that any battle to preserve the building was dead from the get go.

pouring over notes and photographs, i was hoping to jump start my memory of this salvage experience, which occurred sometime in 2009. i recall spending a great deal of time outside, trying to extract various salmon-colored, glazed terra cotta panels and/or blocks adorning the once grand entrance with its large arched opening. at the time the building was set for demolition, the city was so brutally cold and the wind from the lake nearly froze my face off. i remember being surrounded by at least a foot of snow, making it hard to erect a support system that would allow access to the highly intricate and deep relief floral rosettes comprising the arched surround. ironically, i was frustrated at the time by having to wear gloves; rarely do you see anyone on a jobsite without, but i just cannot stand them. i have paid dearly, in the form of stitches, broken fingers and blemished skin, and still i need to "feel" the tools, or the ornament i'm working on. gloves make me feel clumsy and disconnected from the work.

the interior was a complete disaster zone. in fact, i think i was strongly encouraged not to go inside because a single floor could collapse at a moment's notice. i set my personal safety aside and went for it. navigating the building would have been impossible without the use of my headlamp and the occasional sliver of natural light seeping in from the windows or elevator shafts. the floors were badly rotted to the point where existing furniture remained in place at odd angles, from resting on the remaining floor joists. for the first time in my life i was truly concerned for my safety. ever determined, i pressed on and managed to make my way up to the 6th floor, assisted by the only structurally sound staircase located in the rear of the building. once i reached the 6th floor it was wide open and fully exposed to the elements. i panicked for a moment as i looked around, thinking the whole damn structure could collapse on itself at any moment.

as i slowly worked my way back down, i peaked in on each of the floors. in most cases the dry wall had crumbled apart, which worked to my advantage since it exposed the elevator shafts still containing ornamental iron doors, surrounds, pilasters and so on. i managed to access a few of these formerly walled-in elevator doors to discover and carefully extract remarkable cast iron cartouches - with the ywca monogram - from the badly corroded doors. the risk was decidedly worthwhile after discovering the intact ornamental iron stairways and original open-air elevators, and especially with the removal of the cartouches, a complete door and some of the spindles. not a single person would have known that these ornamental iron remnants existed, hidden as they were when the hotel was converted during the depression. that discovery was highly rewarding, especially to the historians who performed a methodical and painstakingly detailed analysis of the facade.

once the building was reduced to rubble i focused on recovering any and all terra cotta fragments that survived the destructive force of the wrecking ball. i managed to rescue several fluted columns, capitals, a lionhead and several fragments from the heavily ornamented loggia. i was certain there was a "time capsule" and looked in vein for a small dark green copper box hiding in the debris where the arch once stood. i was incredibly disappointed that i didn't locate it.

years later, i was told (perhaps by friend tim samuelson) that the box was recovered and handed over to the property owners. contents of the box was distributed to various parties. i would be thrilled to track down where the box (if it was saved) and contents resides in the hopes that i could make a thorough visual record of it. 

some of the ornament i managed to salvage in 2009: