Greystones: Chicago's Answer to Brownstones

Many people, including me, have written extensively about the classic brownstones of New York and Boston. Recently, I learned about a similar building style popular only in Chicago. Architects and historians call the buildings greystones. The term refers to structures built primarily between 1890 and 1915 and most often in the Chicago neighborhood of North Lawndale. A survey published in December 2005 for the Historic Chicago Greystone Initiative estimated 1,714 greystone buildings in North Lawndale.

North Lawndale has an incredibly rich social history. By 1930, only Warsaw and New York had more Jewish residents. Forty nine synagogues dotted the neighborhood. By 1960, however, African-Americans made up 91 percent of the population. As Charles Leeks of Neighborhood Housing Services of Chicago wrote in The Chicago Greystone in Historic North Lawndale “If Lawndale’s Greystones could talk, they would tell us” of Golda Meir, Dinah Washington, Benny Goodman, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Clarence Darrow making a vibrant, dynamic neighborhood.

From: www.nhschicago.org/content/greystone.php

Like the brownstones of the east coast, Chicago’s greystones were two- or three-story, commonly 2 or 3 flats (though there could be up to 6), flat roofed, brick buildings with a façade of more fancy stone. There also were greystone mansions and one-story greystone “shoeboxes,” but not so many as to define a unified style. More then 93 percent have fewer than five residential units. Working class people of modest means, with some more affluent middle class folks, were the primary buyers and tenants. Some streets are entirely greystones flats, whereas others may contain just one or two greystones.

On the eastern seaboard, the stone embellishment was the 200-million-year old Portland Formation. Chicago builders, in contrast, took advantage of their proximity to the great limestone quarry region of Indiana and enhanced their brick with the 330-million-year old Salem Limestone. I won’t write more about these stones because I have covered them thoroughly in previous blog posts.

The survey found two stages of style. Initially between 1890 and 1905, primarily Romanesque buildings with rusticated limestone dominated. They featured arches and robust cornices. Next came a Neo-Classical look incorporating smooth limestone blocks, bay and Palladian windows, and columns. Throughout the era, many builders also built purely brick buildings in the same styles. Curiously the color of the brick changed from red to tawny.

From: www.greystonepreservationllc.com

Beginning in 2006, a consortium of groups banded together to form the Historic Chicago Greystone Initiative to preserve these wonderful buildings. Composed of community residents, non-profits, business, academic, and government partners, the Initiative promotes renovation and protection, through technical and financial assistance. They are doing vital and critical work. I wish them continued success.

Tree Stump Tombstones

As noted in my previous posting, slate does have a long history as a wonderful tombstone material but my favorite tombstones are the ones carved from Salem Limestone. At Green Hill Cemetery in Bedford, Indian, a pair of six-foot-tall tree stumps with interlocked broken branches memorializes Mammie Osborn Maddox and Alonzo Maddox. Stone flowers “sprout” from the base of her tree with ferns “growing” from the base of his. Nearby stands the tombstone of Hattie Wease, who died in 1912. Her tree stump rises from a stack of horizontal, cut logs. Above her name are an axe and mallet, carved with precise detail into the stone.

Other stumps depict vines climbing the bark, a lamb at the base of a child’s tomb, doves nesting on branches, or frogs hiding in foliage. Not purely decoration, each design has symbolic meaning. A broken branch represents a life cut short. A frog alludes to resurrection. Doves symbolize peace. These are shibboleths, codes that united individuals to a larger community. Even in death the residents of limestone country looked to stone to forge a common bond.

My favorite carving of all though honors Louis Baker, a 23-year old stonemason, who died in April 1917, when lightning struck him at home. His co-workers sculpted an exact replica of how Baker left his work bench. On the upper edge of a slanted stone slab, they carved his metal square. Below rest a narrow drove and a stub-handled broom, one edge of which abuts a foot-long point. A wider chisel leans atop a hammer that just touches the sharpened end of the point. Nearby is the apron he tossed onto his mallet. The slab sits on another slab, propped on a bench so perfect in detail of the wood that one of the “boards” warps and others have cracks where someone, perhaps the young stonemason, had overtightened the bolts holding together the planks.

The bench moved me not only because it reveals the qualities of stone—90 years of weathering have not removed the details of individual straws of the broom, but the bench also reveals the qualities of the men who worked the stone. Yes, they could carve elaborate and beautiful pieces, but to honor one of their own the men of limestone country produced a monument that reflected gratification in working with simple tools, pride in their trade, respect for their co-workers. Neither fancy nor symbolic, Baker’s tombstone is utilitarian and straightforward, qualities that made Salem Limestone America’s building stone.

America's Building Stone - Chapter 6

Go to any city across the country and you will find one building stone in all of them: Salem Limestone from Indiana. People pray, have babies, get drivers licenses, and file for divorce in structures made from this 330-million-year old buff rock. Salem was also the first stone that many people encountered when they entered the United States; the administration building at Ellis Island was completed in 1900 with Salem Limestone trimming the red brick.

As with most building stones, use of Salem started locally with workers hauling blocks eight miles for the foundation and window sills of a county courthouse in 1819. The first quarry opened eight years later but little stone made it outside Indiana until the railroad reached Bedford and Bloomington in 1853.

The big break for Salem quarriers came in 1871 when Chicago burned to the ground. Within a few years, Indiana quarrymen had set up shop to promote their stone. One promoter wrote, “This purity insures absolute integrity on exposures to the fumes of coal, while the perfect elasticity and flexibility of the mass render it invulnerable to the forces of cold and heat, air and moisture.” Others claimed that the stone cleaned itself and that it had withstood the ice age “scarcely changed in any part.”

The Salem soon became the stone of Chicago. In 1889 William Vanderbilt ordered 25 carloads for a mansion on Fifth Avenue and his august imprimatur spurred others to follow. Within a decade Salem dominated markets in Philadelphia, New York City, Boston, Cincinnati, Kansas City, and Cedar Rapids.

Several aspects of Salem Limestone combined to make everyone from Odd Fellows to opera fans incorporate the stone in their structures. Stone masons can cut, plane, flute, and carve the Salem easily and in all directions and once shaped, Salem hardens over time. It splits evenly, and in any direction. When rock had to bear the weight of a building, Salem excelled because of its low compressibility. When stone became a skin hanging on a steel skeleton, Salem remained popular because of its ease in cutting.

Changes in architectural fashions also helped sell Salem Limestone. In the last quarter of the 19^th century, architects turned away from the dark, somber stones, such as brownstone, that dominated cities in the eastern United States. Salem Limestone also benefited from the growth of coal-fired plants, because Salem stones did not disintegrate under attack by coal-generated pollution like other limestones. (As geologist David Dale Owen wrote in 1838, Salem Limestone “would imbibe less water.”) By 1928, the peak year of production, Indiana quarries provided 70% of all exterior building stone used in the United States.

Salem Limestone quarries are still active, shipping rock as far as Japan and Turkey. In the United States, Salem-clad buildings occur in all 50 states, and include 27 state capitols, 750 post offices, and 200-plus courthouses. It is the most commonly used building stone in the country.

The Unconformity at Yankee Stadium

Recently there has been much bother and brouhaha about the opening of the new stadium for the New York Yankees. The New Yorker’s fine architectural critic Paul Goldberger wrote that the building has “the self important air of a new courthouse built to look as if it had been there since William Howard Taft was President.” Perhaps of more importance, at least to some, Goldberger noted that the stadium “finally [has] sufficient bathroom facilities.” He discussed sight lines, historic homages, and luxury boxes, but what he failed to notice is the unconformity that greets all who enter.

Up close with the Yankees' unconformity (from Wikipedia)

The base of the stadium is a gray, lightly lavender granite quarried from Crotch Island, Maine. Sitting atop it is the Salem Limestone, quarried in Bedford, Indiana, just around the corner from the hole that provided the stone for the Empire State Building. The missing time gap is about 40 million years, a relatively short span considering what could occur in architectural unconformities. (One of my favorites is the three-billion-year gap between the formation of the Morton Gneiss and the deposition of the Kasota Limestone, the two rocks abutting each other on the Art Deco Qwest Building on Minneapolis.)

Such geologic incongruities are common in architecture. Half-billion-year old slates butt against 150,000-year-old travertines. Sandstone that formed in Connecticut sits on top of marble that formed in Italy. Metamorphic rocks interfinger with sedimentary rocks. Fossil-rich, sea-deposited limestones juxtapose mineral-rich, subduction-created granites. The collection of building stones in any downtown area is as complex as any assembled by plate tectonics.

But back to the rock of Yankee stadium. Since the middle 1800s, Maine has been a major source of granite in the building industry. By 1889, Maine had 153 granite quarries, including one in Vinalhaven that employed 1,500 people. Quarries combined good, hard rock with easy transportation. Most of the important quarries were on the islands on the south central coast. Maine granite went into structures throughout the eastern seaboard, such as the Brooklyn Bridge, the U.S. Treasury Building in Washington, D.C., and Boston’s Harvard Bridge. Now, however, only one island quarry remains, the one on Crotch Island, owned by the Deer Isle Granite Company. (If you want to own the same rock as the Yankees, they'll be happy to sell you some.)

Deer Isle granite items for sale from Deer Isle Granite Company

The Deer Isle granite solidified about 371 million years ago, as part of an extensive array of granites that formed during two periods of extension associated with the Acadian Orogeny. The rock on Crotch Island sat at the top of the magma chamber. Unlike other granites within the Deer Isle complex, the Crotch Island has few enclaves and no hornblende. It is one of the lighter colored of Maine’s granites, as well, due mostly to buoyant silicic minerals getting concentrated near the roof of the chamber.

Forty million years after the formation of the Deer Isle rock, a quiet sea covered much of the central part of North America. The hundreds of feet of limestone that developed from the mid-continental sea have been exploited widely as quarries, none more famous than those in and around Bloomington and Bedford, Indiana. The Salem Limestone, often called the Indiana limestone, basically consists of the broken up shells of billions upon billions of marine invertebrates, primarily crinoids, forams, bryozoans, and brachiopods. As I have noted before, it is the most commonly used building stone in America.

Now, I have to admit I am not a Yankees fan. Nor, am I a fan of any baseball team but next time I am in New York, I think I would go out to the ballpark. I wouldn’t actually go to see a game, and if no one was there that would be even better, but I would like to see the unconformity.

Overlooked but not Forgotten

Many people, including me, have written extensively about the famous white limestone from Indiana. In my book Stories in Stone, I call the Salem Limestone, “America’s Building Stone,” and as far as I have been able to discover, it is the only building stone used in all 50 states. Recently, however, I have learned of another white limestone often mistakenly described as Salem. Much to my pleasure, being a native of Kentucky, that other stone hails from quarries in Warren County, Kentucky, in the southwest corner of the state.

The story of the Bowling Green Oolite comes from research by Western Kentucky University geologists Mike May and Ken Kuehn. They found that the oolitic limestone was popular from the 1870s to the 1920s with the quarries shutting down around 1937. During that time it became famous for its pure white color and received a gold medal at the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893 and the highest award at the Louisiana Purchase Exposition (St. Louis World's Fair) in 1904. A 1923 Kentucky Geological Survey Publication, written I am sure without any bias, described the Bowling Green rock as “The Aristocrat of all the limestones.”

The publication further noted one unusual aspect of the stone—petroleum “impregnated” the rock. Oil gave the rock a dingy and unpleasant color when first quarried and carved, but soon the evaporation of the occluded petroleum left behind a stone of “great whiteness and remarkable beauty.” And it goes without saying that Bowling Green Oolite had superior strength and durability.

Episcopal Church of Saint Thomas (from St. Thomas web site)

Like the Salem, the Bowling Green Oolite, formally known as the Girkin Limestone, is Mississippian in age. The Girkin is most famous as the stone where the Mammoth Caves of Kentucky formed. The stone crossed state boundaries, with structures such as the U.S. Custom’s House in Nashville, TN and the Hall of Records in Brooklyn, NY; and religious boundaries, going into Methodist, Presbyterian, Catholic, and Episcopal churches, as well as a synagogue. One of the most famous buildings is the Episcopal Church of Saint Thomas in Manhattan, finished in 1913, during the prime years for usage of white limestone from the Midwest.

I suspect that most buildings that I think of as Salem Limestone are Salem, particularly in areas in the west, but I now know that some may have been mislabeled. I look forward to finding more buildings from my home state.

Our Nation's Building Stones

So you’re heading out to Washington D.C. to attend the inauguration and wondering what to do in the down time between the Bruce Springsteen concert, primping for the Inaugural Ball, and chatting up your local congressional representative on the importance of  a good geology education.  Well, like that self-professed geogeek, Mr. Obama, (okay I think he just called himself a geek but I am guessing that he secretly likes rocks), one thing to do is to explore our nation’s capital and check out the building stone.  

In a city of stately buildings, stone has long been the premium material.  One of the first was quarried about 40 miles south of Washington along Aquia Creek in Stafford County, Virginia.  Popular between 1790 and 1840, the Lower Cretaceous sandstone is rich in quartz sand and pebbles.  It was also known as ‘Virginia freestone,’ and was used for the White House, Treasury Building, the Old Patent Office, and the older parts of the Capitol.  Unfortunately, the Aquia Creek rock suffered from many flaws and weathered poorly, so that it soon had to be replaced or painted over.  

Gateposts (From USGS Pub. Building Stones of Our Nation's Capital) 

You can still find it indoors at the Old Patent Office and in rooms next to the Capitol rotunda.  Outdoor examples include the Old Patent Office, the boundary stones of D.C., and three gateposts and one gatehouse, formerly at the Capitol.  They can now be found at 15^th St. NW and Constitution Ave. NW. 

The most popular building material, and one that has weathered far better, is the Salem Limestone.  As I have noted before, it is a 330-million-year old rock quarried in and around Bloomington, Indiana.  You cannot travel very far in Washington without running into a building made either all or partly of Salem.  These include the Botanic Gardens, the GSA Building, US Holocaust Museum, Interior, Jefferson Memorial (calcite from the Salem and marble have weathered and made stalactites and stalagmites in the basement), Lincoln Memorial, National Theater, and scores of more.  

Department of Interior (From USGS Pub. Building Stones of Our Nation's Capital) 

You can also find a brownstone, from quarries located along the Potomac River, near Seneca, Maryland, 20 miles northwest of Washington.  Like the brownstones of Connecticut, the Seneca sandstone formed in massive rift basins that opened 200 million years ago during the breakup of Pangaea.  The Smithsonian Castle completed in 1855, uses this brownstone, which has weathered to dark red from its original lilac gray.  I recently learned from Through the Sandglass of a great Mark Twain quote about said stone.  In a letter published in the March 7, 1868 Territorial Enterprise, he wrote of the “poor, decrepit, bald-headed, played-out, antediluvian Old Red Sandstone formation which they call the Smithsonian Institute.” 

Smithsonian Castle (From USGS Pub. Building Stones of Our Nation's Capital) 

I will end my short tour with the Washington Monument, the tallest masonry structure in the world.  The lower 152 feet use Texas marble, quarried in Maryland.  Construction on this section ran from 1845 to 1854.  Not until 11 years after the Civil War did building again begin again, now with marble from Lee, Massachusetts.  Only four layers were laid; this marble was too expensive.  Builders returned again to Maryland quarries but this time they got stone from Cockeysville, north of Baltimore. 

If you want to see more or learn more about stone of Washington, D.C., you can consult two excellent publications.  The USGS has put their Building Stones of Our Nation’s Capital on line. 

The second is the Building Stones and Geomorphology of Washington, D.C., written by Jim O’Connor, the late geologist for the District of Columia.  Enthusiastic about making geology accessible to everyone, he wrote and taught extensively about the local geology of the capitol. 

Breaking Away: The Building Stone Movie

Prompted by Silver Fox and inspired by Geology News, this post focuses on one of my favorite geology movies, Breaking Away.  The film takes place in Bloomington in the late 1970s and centers on four recent high school graduates: Dave, Moocher, Cyril, and Mike.  Ostensibly about the relationship between stone mill workers, or Cutters, and college kids, Breaking Away is filled with the angst and self-doubt sewn into young men who cannot follow their father’s footsteps.  “They’re gonna keep calling us “Cutters.”  To them it’s just a dirty word.  To me it’s just something else I never got a chance to be,” says Mike, the character played by a young Dennis Quaid in Breaking Away. 

With no work in the building stone industry, the guys have nothing better to do than loaf around, complain about the advantages of college kids, and swim in the abandoned quarries.  Those quarries are all in the Salem Limestone, a 330-million-year old rock unit that is the most commonly used building stone in the country.  The Salem formed in a quiet sea, which covered what we now call the Midwest and is most analogous to the Bahamas where limestone is now forming. It is a fossiliferous layer rich in crinoid stems, bryozoans, brachiopods, and forams.

Joe Palooka in Oolitic, Indiana

Out of the great beds of white rock came the stone climbed by King Kong (Empire State Building), bombed by terrorists (The Pentagon), and walked through by hundreds of thousands of immigrants (Ellis Island).  In the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries, it was the stone to use for grand buildings everywhere, as well as for tomb stones, statues, and many other more modest architectural features.  If you are interested in reading more about the Salem, I recommend Scott Sanders' excellent In Limestone Country. 

Unfortunately, you cannot get to the quarry where the guys swam in the movie.  It is blocked by a fence and “No Trespassing” signs.  You can, however, see the hole that the Empire State Building came from.  It is near a small cemetery just north of Oolitic, Indiana.  You can also drive through the Salem-rich Indiana University campus in Bloomington, where much of Breaking Away was filmed.

The hole where the Empire State Building was quarried.

Breaking Away is a near perfect movie, at least if you want a good view of a small part of the building stone world.  One extended scene is shot in a limestone mill and features massive cutting tools called gang saws.  When the guys go swimming, you can get a feel for the size of the quarries.  The dialogue between Dave and his father is hysterical.  And Dave, the star, rides a bike, which leads to the final, uplifting moments of the movie, a bike race between our four heroes and the snotty, snooty college boys.  What more could a geology-loving, bike-riding geek want?