The postcard view is the idealized view, and the view of material production as an American cultural ideal is a thing of the past. When made, postcards were perfect versions of the present, and with age, they acquire a rose-colored patina and become perfect versions of the past. But nostalgia for a past we never knew ought to be avoided. Rather, the postcards are more useful as references for making subtle comparisons between what was, and what now is. In the context of a global economy and a greatly decentralized manufacturing base at home, these humble promotional cards serve as a reminder that not long ago, a greater percentage of widgets and doo-hickeys were made in our backyard. But also that contrary to popular wisdom, many widgets still are.

In a selection of Chicago factory postcards, the Charles Bruning Company offers a good place to start. The company’s frequent moves provide a textbook example of industrial relocation common among firms throughout the metro area. The Bruning Company also provides a glimpse into a small segment of Chicago’s once-dominant printing industry.

The company’s history begins in lower Manhattan where Charles Bruning started the company in 1897 making blueprints. Only a year later, the company moved to Van Buren and Dearborn in Chicago. Fittingly, they moved around among in several locations in the Printer’s Row area, finally settling at 445 Plymouth Court. Branches of the company were opened throughout the country. The company diversified into manufacturing drafting supplies and copy machinery for small to mid-size printing operations. Later, most of its profits would be made manufacturing the paper for these machines.¹

As with many other firms, expressway construction and urban renewal projects in the central area led to the need for movement to the outer reaches of the city. The Bruning Company’s factory at 445 Plymouth Court was in the path of construction for Congress Parkway, and they were forced to move. In 1941, Bruning built the factory depicted in the postcard at 4700 W. Montrose. Victor L. Charn was the architect of the Art Moderne structure; he designed several other factories in the same style, including the former Motorola factory on Augusta Boulevard.²

Charles Bruning also operated another factory only a block away in the Montrose Manufacturing District, at 4321 N. Knox. However, locations wouldn’t be making drafting supplies for long, as ground was broken in 1956 on a new factory in Mount Prospect, intended to consolidate all of the company’s Chicago operations. The company’s seemingly continual movement to the outer reaches of the metro area was not unique; many other firms and manufacturing concerns made similar moves, citing issues such as the need for more space and workforce availability. In fact, Oliver Bruning was quoted in 1960 about the move to Mount Prospect, “It has a rail siding and the labor market is good. We moved out of Chicago to get additional room. We were getting hemmed in by the city.” ³ The new plant opened in 1957 and was designed by A. Epstein and Sons, a prolific Chicago engineering/architectural firm. The complex was huge, with the nationwide offices of the company located in the building as well. ⁴

Left: A. Epstein

Time has been kind to the former Charles Bruning plant on Montrose, especially when compared to the alterations of the newer Mount Prospect plant. Unlike similar factories of its age, the Montrose Bruning factory remains quite intact. Many details visible on the postcard are still present. The entranceway remains strikingly original, sans the former Charles Bruning lettering. A loading dock has been added to the right of the entrance, but the ribbon windows remain intact, a rarity on structures of this type. Currently in use by an imports company, this excellent example of Art Moderne factory architecture remains well cared for and will hopefully be around for generations to come. As for the Charles Bruning Company itself? Merged with the Addressograph-Multigraph Corporation in 1963, it later became known as the Multigraphics division of AM International.⁵ At some point the Mount Prospect plant was closed, as it was later used by 3Com and currently Bosch. Unlike the intact plant on Montrose, the Mount Prospect plant (above right) has been heavily altered with a new facade, and retains very little of its original design.

1948 wire recorder manufactured by Webster.

Chicago’s importance in the radio industry will be discussed at length in future articles. For now, this postcard provides a glimpse at one of the smaller players. The Webster Company was founded in Chicago in 1914, and manufactured various stereo equipment, including amplifiers, record changers and reel-to-reel recorders. Previously located at 3825 W. Lake Street, the company built a new plant in then-new Keeney Industrial District in 1936. Benjamin Franklin Olson was architect of the plant, a tidy and relatively unique Art Moderne structure.⁶

The plant has held up relatively well through the years; it still maintains an original light fixture above the entrance, as well as an interesting (though likely not original) door handle apparatus. The windows were also modernized at some point, but the building still bears a striking resemblance to the postcard view.

A 1955 Tribune article indicates that the company operated five plants in the Chicago area at that time.⁷ The Webster Company appears to have dissolved sometime in the 1960s, though the company’s later history is somewhat unclear. The building is still in use for industrial purposes, a testament to the perpetual usefulness of small one-story factories with open floor plans.

The William D. Gibson company manufactured springs at this factory on Clybourn. Built in 1908, the factory was expanded over the years. Likely designed by one of the masters of Chicago’s industrial architecture such as Alfred Alschuler, the main building does an interesting job of not hiding its water tower. Even with two towers that ostensibly look like they were designed to conceal water towers (an emerging trend at the time), there is still a prominent water tower visible on the roof of the factory.

The postcard provides quite a view. Not only does it show the Gibson factory in detail, it shows the natural gas tanks that were notable landmarks of this Near North Side neighborhood for decades.

In 1959, Gibson closed up shop and moved Downstate, citing increasing crime in the neighborhood and high labor costs.⁸ Very shortly thereafter, the factory was bought and used for manufacturing purposes by the Turtle Wax company until the 1980s.⁹

In 1986, the factory was purchased by a developer, Horwitz and Matthews, and became one of the most interesting industrial-to-retail conversions in Chicago history. The “Clybourn Corridor” of lofts and retail was just emerging at the time, and the developer sought to create a unique retail environment. The center part of the building was demolished to make way for parking, with the two ends of the building restored and used for shops. The entire courtyard was intended to be covered by glass, and was supposedly designed to “duplicate the look and feel of a 19th Century industrial village.” ¹⁰ Seemingly, some of the plans for the complex (such as the glass canopy) did not come to fruition or were later altered, but the site remains an interesting and unique case study in industrial reuse.

Continuing on the somewhat unintentional theme of showcasing an example from each of Chicago’s formerly major industries is the American Licorice Company, manufacturers of licorice confections. Founded on Jackson Boulevard in 1914 by Martin Kretchmer, the company moved to this site on Keystone just south of Fullerton three years later. The tendency of candy companies to be tight-lipped about their history (trade secrets and all) likely explains why few specifics are available about American Licorice. In 1923, a second plant was opened in San Francisco. A new factory opened in Alsip in 1976, with the Keystone location closing in 1982. The company is still around as one of the major players in the licorice candy business.¹¹

As the then-and-now views show, the building has remained remarkably intact over the years, with major exterior alterations limited to the removal of the water tower and painted sign, and the replacement of the original wood sash windows with glass block. This building is proof that even seemingly nondescript industrial buildings can have interesting histories. The building remains in use today for industrial purposes.

Here is arguably Chicago’s best example of an art deco style factory. The Richter’s Food Products “health sausage” factory on Randolph and Carpenter was constructed beginning in 1931 for a cost of $500,000.¹² The architect was H. Peter Henschien, a noted and prolific Chicago-based designer of meat packing plants.¹³ The Tribune described the new building at the time of construction as being “of pleasing design.” Bruno Richter had started the firm about ten years earlier in Jefferson Park, with the idea of “marketing sausage through extensive advertising.”¹⁴

This plant was built to consolidate three other locations in Chicago. At the time, much of Chicago’s industrial expansion was occurring at the outer reaches of the city and in the suburbs, this plant being an exception to the rule. However, much of Chicago’s food processing industry did remain in the central area instead of relocating elsewhere, so the example of Richter’s isn’t too out of the ordinary. What is odd (and delightful) is the cost and design expended on the factory, which was built in a then-declining area.

The wonderfully colorful art deco design reflects optimism at the beginning of the Great Depression. The water tower is artfully concealed by the central tower of the building. Such rare amenities as air conditioning for the office spaces were featured when the plant opened in 1932.¹⁵ Remarkably, the former Richter’s factory remains quite intact, and is currently in use as a furniture gallery.

A 1917 ad for an Albaugh-Dover tractor. Farmers were prominent customers of Chicago mail order firms like Albaugh-Dover.

Chicago’s large mail order industry didn’t just consist of legendary Sears and Montgomery Ward; many smaller firms also took advantage of Chicago’s transportation hub status and easy access to the hinterlands by locating here. Albaugh-Dover is a prime example. While early history on the company is sketchy at best, this is what is known; the firm constructed their factory and warehouse complex on 21st and Marshall Boulevard in 1905, and the main building (at least) was designed by none other than Howard Van Doren Shaw.¹⁶ While Shaw is not generally known for his industrial commissions, his major factory design of note is the Lakeside Press complex of RR Donnelley, just north of McCormick Place.

The bird’s eye postcard view (which likely dates to the 1910s) is interesting for two reasons. It shows that the Albaugh-Dover site was once much larger, and consisted of several other buildings which are now gone. Also, it depicts the Douglas Park station of the Douglas “L,” which was of unique design and closed in 1952.¹⁷

The Albaugh-Dover plant, ideally located along the Burlington railroad line, manufactured and distributed such diverse products as washing machines, cream separators, gears, pinions, and furniture (according to the postcard). Cream separators (a mechanical device for separating milk from cream) were likely a big moneymaker for Albaugh-Dover, as the 1923 Sanborn fire insurance map shows a whole building in the back dedicated to the manufacture of the devices.¹⁸ The company also produced a line of tractors, and even an early car (called a “high-wheel motor buggy”) named the Aldo, around 1910.¹⁹

By 1950 the factory had vacated the Marshall Boulevard location, according to Sanborn fire insurance maps. Whether they continued in business elsewhere is unknown. However, as shown in the present day photo, the main building survives in excellent condition and is currently used for lofts.

For a company that was supposedly “The Largest Tubular Ice Skate Plant in the World,” there is surprisingly little history available about the Alfred Johnson Skate Company. Chicago was once home to three major skate manufacturers, Johnson being one of them. Competitive speed skating was very popular beginning in the 1890s, especially with Norwegians in Humboldt Park, which perhaps explains why the factory was built across from the park.²⁰

Searching for the location of the factory online was futile, so we resigned ourselves to keeping an eye out for it. Fortunately, the factory fronts on a major street, North Avenue (and Francisco), so it didn’t take long for us to spot it. The rather unornamented building was designed by H.A. Anderson and built in 1922. It remains in use for an unknown purpose, and is in good condition.

The James C. Curtis Company manufactured “undertaker’s supplies,” which one is led to believe was a fancy term for caskets (as indicated on the semi-obscured roof sign). The building, designed by Patterson and Davidson (architects of the immense Western Electric Hawthorne Works in Cicero), is a steel frame factory building built in 1910.²¹ The company operated here until 1946, when they initiated a move to 2340 West Ogden.²²

That same year, the building was bought for $390,000 and became home to three firms on a cooperative basis; a printer, a lithographer, and a clothing manufacturer. Each occupied different floors of the building, and were representative of the types of industries clustering in the Near West Side post-World War II.²³

Fittingly, the building is currently home to a clothing manufacturer. Perhaps as a result of its solid construction, the structure itself has remained strikingly intact; it even retains many of its original wood sash windows! Not so intact is the factory on Ogden that Curtis moved to in the 1940s; the photo on the right shows that it now sports a postmodern facade and is almost certainly no longer a casket factory.

Lyon and Healy is a musical instrument manufacturer that still operates in Chicago. Formed in 1864, Lyon and Healy opened a factory at Randolph and Ogden in 1890 that is still operation. Known for their harps, they have also at times made guitars, banjos, pianos, and other musical instruments.²⁴ In 1913, the factory depicted on the postcard was opened (designed by Hyland and Green). Located on Fullerton just west of Pulaski (then Crawford), along the Milwaukee Road line, the factory included a station along the railroad named after the complex; the station is still called Healy to this day.²⁵

The Lyon and Healy factory on Fullerton did not remain in operation for long; by the 1930s, it was home to the Mills Novelty Company, a noted coin-operated machine manufacturer.²⁶ The usual model of industrial de-concentration would suggest that the company would have closed their original factory on the Near West Side and made the Fullerton location their main operation. In actuality, the Fullerton operation did not last twenty years, and the firm’s 100+ year old Near West Side factory still remains in operation to this day! This serves to demonstrate that there are often prominent exceptions to any theoretical model.

The factory remains in good condition today (aside from its window treatments), and is used as a public storage facility. Various additions to the site were made over the years, as the buildings that comprise the site today are larger and more numerous than those depicted in the postcard.

We’ve saved the largest for last. John Sexton and Company was a large wholesale grocery firm that originated in Chicago in the 1870s. At one time, the company also operated a chain of tea and coffee stores.²⁷ In 1908, Sexton moved their warehouse to Illinois and Kingsbury, to a plant designed by Alfred Alschuler. In 1928, a six story addition (also designed by Alschuler) was added to the east of the original building, which pushed the building up to Orleans. Both the addition and the original structure were built with foundations to support a twelve story building, though the postcard depicts the factory in a six story configuration.²⁸

In 1955, it was announced that John Sexton and Company would build a new plant at 47th and Kilbourn and abandon this one. The move likely took place shortly thereafter.²⁸ This building was later converted to condos. At some point, more floors were added to the eastern (1928 addition) section of the building, likely during the condo conversion. Regardless, the building remains in excellent shape, and is a model for the preservation of Chicago’s industrial architecture, with one exception; a bricked entrance (pictured at right)! Exhibiting some of the architect Alschuler’s distinctive terra cotta ornament (as well as indicating what the building used to be), it should serve as the grand entranceway and centerpiece of the condo conversion; instead, it has been bricked in, with a nondescript entrance added to the west of it. Alas, perhaps one should simply be satisfied that the building is still extant and well maintained.

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This article was last updated on Monday, May 11th, 2009 at 1:50 pm in the Industry section.