‘So many times they wrote him off’

Aid for Villa Park boy overcoming premature birth might be running out

By James Fuller
jfuller@dailyherald.com



Kelly Walker felt the warm glow of motherhood as she left her doctor’s office the afternoon of Jan. 3, 2004. Her ultrasound showed healthy twins.

A mounting terror erased that feeling when she went into labor at 11 p.m. that night. Mason and Grace weren’t due until April 11, Easter weekend.

“I thought, ‘There’s no way this is happening. They’re three months early. How can they live?’” Walker recalled.

Three years later, Walker finds herself asking that question about Mason again. The family’s insurance is tapped out. Mason no longer qualifies for nursing care through public aid. Soon, all the help Mason needs may vanish.

Now the Walkers are hoping a bowling fundraiser next weekend will help keep Mason moving forward.

Baby steps

Grace triggered the premature birth. Her placenta was 30 percent detached, torn and filling with blood. It was either birth or death.

Hours later, Mason and Grace entered the world in miniature. Their footprints were the length of two quarters with little nubs for toes.

Despite their size, there was relief.

The twins survived their tumultuous birth. The worst seemed to be over as the twins began their incubator lives and the path to going home to Villa Park.

Grace took that path. Mason followed another.

A week into Mason’s life he developed a bruise on the top of his right foot. Doctors attributed it to an awkward sleeping position.

A few days later, when it appeared to worsen, the bruise was traced to needle pokes Mason received during his care. His foot was treated with cream and wrapped in gauze.

It didn’t help. Mason’s tiny body swelled with so much infection his father, Joe, feared his skin would burst. Mason ballooned from a 2-pound premie into 10 pounds of sick child.

Doctors determined Mason had an E. coli infection stemming from a small hole in his intestines.

The mysterious hole healed, but the infection was so severe that medical staff told the Walkers they should take their son’s toys home and prepare for his death.

“They told me they’d never seen anyone that sick live,” Kelly Walker said.

Mason’s body wasn’t ridding itself of the toxins. He hadn’t urinated in a week. That’s when Kelly Walker had an idea.

She told the doctors to try putting his hand in a cup of warm water. After some hesitancy, the staff gave it a shot and Mason responded just like one of Kelly’s friends had done at an ill-fated teenage sleepover.

Mason’s swelling ebbed, but his right foot grew ever worse, eventually tearing open in several places. He received a pig skin graft to close the wounds, but the infection spread to his hip.

A year’s worth of failed attempts to save Mason’s foot followed.

“It was a mangled mess,” Kelly Walker said.

Amputation was the only option left. The infection also stunted the formation of Mason’s hip socket. His right leg would grow at a far slower rate than his left, requiring a prosthesis that makes it look like Mason’s calf was amputated as well.

Now the boy who shouldn’t be alive is 3 years old.

“So many times they wrote him off, and so many times he’s proven them wrong,” Kelly Walker said.

Helping hands

Mason is looking to prove everyone wrong again by learning to walk on his own with the help of therapists at Easter Seals and his nurse, Kathleen Brannon.

It’s Tuesday and that means speech, physical and occupational therapy.

A web of eight bungee cords strapped to a cage on one end and a harness on the other holds Mason upright. Mary Wyler coaxes Mason to perform various exercises while also finding enough entertainment to soothe the rambunctious toddler.

“I want No. 5,” Mason says.

It’s a reference to the “Thomas the Tank Engine” children’s show that Mason currently is obsessed with.

“No. 5 is James,” Mason says. Indeed, he knows all the characters by their names, numbers and faces.

Wyler strategically places the toy train so Mason must lean back and do a sit-up to reach it. Mason’s muscles are underdeveloped. He uses a walker pushed mostly with his left leg to get around. He can’t stand on his own. Yet.

“Are you gonna walk, Mr. Walker?” Brannon asks, shifting Mason over to a treadmill.

“I’m ready,” he replies.

The treadmill also has a harness. It lowers Mason to a standing position on the tread, which moves as slowly as 0.1 mph. Mason intersperses walking with other exercises, such as kicking toy police cars off the treadmill with his prosthetic leg.

This is remarkable progress for Mason. When he first started therapy he was so weak that sometimes he’d stop breathing while trying to lift his head.

Now he’s a little Godzilla on the treadmill, deflecting all would-be objects near his legs.

Once complete, it’s time for Linda Merry to concentrate on some of Mason’s fine motor skills. Mason’s nervous system also is underdeveloped. For instance, he began with no instinctual concept of the danger of letting go while swinging on a swing. Climbing over balls and mats requires a thought process Mason still is developing.

His nerves also are hypersensitive. Touching something like grass or clay can feel so unusual to Mason that it scares him.

“OK, big guy,” Merry says to Mason. “Are you ready to play?”

“OK,” Mason responds. It’s his favorite reply, even when it’s obvious he’d rather not do the requested activity. It’s also not unusual for him to request a hug now and then.

Mason concentrates on twisting lids, drawing vertical lines and pulling putty apart, all of which require coordinated muscle use.

“It’s not all about the legs,” Merry said. “It’s about maximizing strengths to minimize his weaknesses.”

Financial obstacles

Mason is much more capable than he would be otherwise thanks to all the care he receives.

But he’ll still need a lifetime of therapy.

Without some financial help, backward steps may be the first he takes.

One of the first things he’ll lose is Brannon, his nurse. Public aid won’t pay for her anymore because Mason is healthy enough to avoid a hospital stay without her. All told, it’s a $3,600-a-month cost the Walkers can’t afford.

“Without a doubt, if he didn’t have the therapy and extra help that he gets, he would just crumble and not be the same as he is today,” Kelly Walker said. “He has come so far. He’s come from the dead. It crushes me to think that he could go completely backward.”

Fire guts apartment building

Wheaton families homeless; lightning suspected in blaze

Photo by Daily Herald Photographer Bev Horne

By James Fuller


Jared Standridge was sitting in his living room with his dog Arwen when he heard a crash of thunder and saw a bright flash followed by a “zapping” sound.

“Then everybody was running around, banging on doors,” Standridge said. “I think everybody got out fine, but I don’t know.”

The immediate aftermath of a fire that consumed a 24-unit apartment building in Wheaton Monday afternoon was confusion and concern.

Some residents toted their dogs and cats around, nuzzling them with a newfound appreciation. Others bawled with the apparent loss of irreplaceable photo albums and other belongings.


Photo by Daily Herald Photographer Bev Horne

The fire began shortly before an alarm went off in the building at about 3:30 p.m. Heavy rain and gusting winds pounded the Amli at Danada Farms apartment complex just before the alarm, leading both fire officials and witnesses to speculate that lightning may be to blame.

“I saw it kind of smoldering and the fire department got there and it was almost like they didn’t have to call anybody else,” said Rick Schweihs, who lives in a neighboring building. “Then all of sudden flames were shooting up.”

Some 30 fire departments and about 100 firefighters responded to the alarm. Smoke and flames began to dissipate an hour into the fight, but the damage was evident. Nearly the entire roof collapsed, leaving only a series of thin strips of the once-vaulted ceilings grasping at the sky like the teeth of a rake.

Residents of the complex said there were no sprinklers in the building, but a fire alarm system was in place that signals the fire department when triggered by smoke or flames.

In the end, fire officials confirmed everyone made it out of the building without injury. By 6:15 p.m., only a few hot spots remained as firefighters walked the interior of the now uninhabitable building.

Red Cross personnel arrived at the scene in the late afternoon to help the newly homeless residents find temporary shelter. Property managers declined comment.

Wheaton Fire Chief Greg Berk said it was too soon to know the cause of the fire for sure, but fire officials were interviewing witnesses who saw lightning just before the blaze erupted. Berk said the Wheaton Fire Department also received several calls about lightning strikes in the area before the Amli fire alarm sounded.

Billy Graham's lifelong 'soul mate' in coma

BY JAMES FULLER
Posted Thursday, June 14, 2007


The story of Ruth and the Rev. Billy Graham began at Wheaton College - the two fell in love reading tombstone epitaphs in a nearby countryside graveyard.

Friends of the Grahams now say they wouldn't be surprised if the couple both soon leave this world as the 86-year-old Ruth lapsed into a coma Wednesday.

And Billy Graham himself seemed to acknowledge that when he said: "Ruth is my soul mate and best friend, and I cannot imagine living a single day without her by my side."

Ruth, 86, has degenerative osteoarthritis of the back and neck and has been bedridden at their home in western North Carolina.

The 88-year-old preacher and adviser to presidents has been in frail health for years, suffering from fluid on the brain, prostate cancer and Parkinson's disease.


Ruth Graham AP Photo

Harold Myra and Marshall Shelley co-authored "The Leadership Secrets of Billy Graham," but they came to know the couple long before. Myra is the retired CEO of Carol Stream-based Christianity Today, a publication Billy Graham founded. Shelley is the editorial vice president.

Both men recalled Ruth Graham as a "spunky," strong-willed woman who never feared telling her husband exactly what she thought. Indeed, Myra recalled in a recent article that the door to the bedridden Ruth Graham's room bears a sign reading, "Nobody knows the trouble I've been."

Shelley said Ruth is the grounding force behind her husband - raising their family on her own much of the time and acting as a counselor for her famous husband.

Myra has personal experience with Ruth Graham's strong will.

"One time she called me about an article that we'd run in the magazine and she started by saying, 'Harold, how could this happen!'" Myra said. "She wasn't intruding, but she wanted us to know her thoughts."

He declined to say what the article was about.

But then there was the time just a couple of years ago when Myra's Wheaton home burned down. Ruth Graham was one of the first to reach out to him with a $100 donation to the rebuilding effort, and a copy of one of her books to begin piecing his personal library back together.

"It was her tremendous concern for the downtrodden, the weak and those who have had trouble," Myra said. "Even when Jim Baker was going through prison and all that, when he was released, she reached out to him and gave him hope for the future."

Myra and Shelley said the days of both Ruth and Billy Graham may be numbered. Both have been in ill health in recent years, and both recently lost siblings.

"Her death would obviously be a very powerful loss," Myra said. "He's been ready to step into glory for a while now. If she dies, she would be there, and I think he's ready to go."

Shelley said Ruth Graham's death would cause the Rev. Graham to grieve, but it would be lessened by the hope of her leaving to be in the presence of Jesus Christ.

"Billy has indicated that he has been ready to meet his maker on any occasion," Shelley said. "He is not afraid to die."

Local leaders laud Falwell's devotion

By James Fuller

Be it moral issues, social evils or religious callings, the Rev. Jerry Falwell was never afraid to speak his mind.

For that reason alone, local watchers of Christian evangelism noted Falwell's death Tuesday as a landmark event.

Wheaton College Chaplain Stephen Kellough said Falwell's faith was something all evangelicals could agree with. Falwell's political positions and sometimes audacious comments on issues such as the civil rights movement and the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks were what pushed the gamut of evangelical belief, Kellough said.

“As far as Jerry Falwell spoke concerning the essential Gospel of Jesus Christ, he would be embraced by Evangelicals across the spectrum,” Kellough said. “But his participation in political issues is seen as especially controversial. He certainly represented one end of the spectrum there. He was not shy concerning his faith.”

Even those who counted Falwell as a personal friend, such as Willow Creek Community Church Founding Pastor Bill Hybels, felt the need to create some distance between the evangelist and the politician Tuesday.



Associated Press

“While we sometimes felt differently about how to approach many of the great challenges of our day, Dr. Falwell gave his life to his family, his church, his beloved university, and the country he sought to improve,” Hybels said in a written statement.

Falwell's political activity stood in stark contrast to Wheaton College alum Billy Graham, another evangelical icon of the same generation.

Graham has never treaded far into the political world, said David Neff, editor of Christianity Today, which Graham founded.

“With Jerry Falwell, he tried to attend to both a ministry, an educational institution and have a strong political influence,” Neff said. “It just may not be possible to do all of those things effectively at the same time. Dr. Falwell probably came as close as anyone could.”

Falwell's ministry efforts touched Chicago's suburbs, too. He planned, with the Southern Baptist Convention, to establish a church in Long Grove. It never materialized, but the failure was minor compared to Falwell's accomplishments.

Of those, Neff singled out Falwell's founding of the Moral Majority in 1979 as the successful mobilization of conservative Christian voters to the polls that no other religious leader before Falwell had achieved.

“Today there's a number of conservative Christian leaders who have a seat at the table, in the Republican Party in particular, and all of that can be traced to the influence of Jerry Falwell,” Neff said.

The question moving forward is who becomes the next charismatic evangelical leader to continue Falwell's religious and political dynasty.

Neff said the most influential person in that circle now is probably Focus on the Family Chairman James Dobson. But Dobson also has had heart ailments as he's aged.

Kellough and Neff said an aging generation of evangelists will soon turn to a younger generation for leadership.

“When the next dominant personality for one reason or another is no longer able to exercise that type of leadership, we'll see a power vacuum,” Neff said. “It will be interesting to see what would happen then.”

Daily Herald staff writer Ashok Selvam contributed to this report.

Death of a theater

Theater takes last bow

Wrecking crews demolish 79-year-old movie house in Lombard

By James Fuller and Kathryn Grondin
Daily Herald Staff Writers


At 2:50 p.m. the DuPage Theatre looked like a sick a woman with no friends.

It was 10 minutes until a demolition crew was set to pull the plug on her 79 years of existence, and no one was there to see her off.

Fans worked frantically behind the scenes Thursday to get the Illinois Supreme Court to intervene or a circuit court to halt the process because of asbestos fears.

Both attempts failed.

“We had to exhaust all of our appeals,” said Deborah Dynako, president of the Friends of the DuPage Theatre. “We’ve done everything we possibly could’ve done.”

Lombard Village Manager William Lichter confirmed that asbestos fibers were embedded in the roof shingles, but he said they posed no health hazards as precautions would be taken.


At the site, an open door on the Parkside Avenue end of the theater cast little light into what seemed to be a lifeless building. Yet, the neon lights of the marquee hinted that a faint pulse remained.

Then they came. Most people came simply to gawk at the death of a once local giant. Others were there to either cheer or grieve. All told, about 75 people turned out to see the theater’s last breaths.

“It makes me sad,” said Paula Weisserth, a Lombard native. Weisserth had both her first date and her first kiss at the movie house.

“There’s not one person in this town who’s not connected to the theater,” she said. “It’s a shame they couldn’t find a solution.”

It wasn’t for lack of effort. The village negotiated for three years with a developer on a plan to save part of the theater.

As recently as February, a compromise to save the facade and part of the building won a recommendation from Lombard’s plan commission.

But some village trustees’ lingering concerns about the proposal outweighed the advisory panel’s recommendation. They rejected the plan in favor of demolition.

“It’s an elephant whose time has come and gone,” Trustee Richard Tross said. “We gave it chance after chance after chance.”

Those thoughts were echoed by frequent passers-by sounding their horns and shouting, “Yeah! Tear it down!” all afternoon.

Outgoing Trustee Steve Sebby took a front-row seat to watch something he’s waited a long time to see.

“It’s a sad day for Lombard, but it’s a good day for Lombard,” Sebby said. “The new trustees can start with a clean slate now. And really, what are we losing?”

By 3:45 p.m. the only piece of the remaining building to be saved was free. Construction crews loaded the ticket booth onto a truck to deliver to the Lombard Historical Society.

Then the massive metal claw came to life as water hoses doused the building.

At 4:35 p.m. the claw descended on the marquee, ripping the faded, red DuPage letters off and casting them to the ground. Some applauded. Others simply left in defeat.

By 5 p.m. the marquee was gone, and any life left in the building was extinguished as the claw tore off one of the spires on the facade.

Today the demolition crew will return to finish the job, but the DuPage Theatre is already gone.

Two prayer days, two messages

Photo by Daily Herald Photographer Tanit Jarusan

James Fuller
Daily Herald Staff Writer

DuPage County’s main observance of the National Day of Prayer on Thursday adhered to a conservative Christian tone that, like last year, upset at least one group of observers.

Last year, radio host and occasional Fox News contributor Sandy Rios upset local Muslims when she referred to Allah as “a God of vengeance.”

This year, an overt disdain for homosexuality sparked disappointment from at least one local church leader.

An exhibit by the Illinois Family Institute greeted the 150 or so participants as they walked to their seats for an hour of prayers at Danada House near Wheaton.

The display provided information booklets opposing medical marijuana, gambling and civil unions for homosexual couples.

It was a theme played out at the podium when Peter LaBarbera delivered his prayer for marriages.

“Marriage is under assault on so many fronts in this nation that began, miraculously, as a Christian nation,” said LaBarbera, president of Americans for Truth.

“Homosexual activists, joined by liberal churches who stray far from your word, work night and day to radically redefine marriage seeking to bless as holy that which you call an abomination,” he said.

While there was little reaction from the crowd, LaBarbera’s remarks worry some church leaders who welcome homosexuals.

“It’s unfortunate that a day designated by our nation as one for prayer, ostensibly for all people of faith, would seem to be focused seemingly exclusively on Christian prayer,” said Rev. Greg Schneck-Skiba, pastor of Naperville’s First Congregational United Church of Christ.

Schneck-Skiba attended a different observance at Benedictine University in Lisle featuring the Rev. Martin Marty. He said the Lisle gathering was Christian — but not divisive.

“What’s even more unfortunate is that a particular prayer offered in that setting would exclude and denigrate those many Christians who are of homosexual and other orientations who are seeking to be faithful Christians in their loving relationships with each other and all of God’s creation,” Schneck-Skiba said.

“I recognize that this is denied by people who oppose homosexuality,” he said. “But even so, that seems inappropriate in a context of a day of prayer focused on a nation of which all of us are citizens.”

Not all prayers during the Danada observance had political undertones.

Retired U.S. Rep. Henry Hyde, a staunch conservative, simply spoke of the beauty of living in America.

Hyde’s voice sounded strong despite delivering his prayer from a wheelchair. He was unable to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance.

“Let us give thanks for the freedom we enjoy in America,” Hyde said. “And in giving thanks for freedom, let us resolve to live our freedom nobly remembering, Lord, that freedom is not a measure of doing what we like, but rather having the right to do what we ought.”

A flawed strategy

Author contrasts way U.S. fought World War II with Iraq

By James Fuller
Daily Herald Staff Writer

The conduct of the war in Iraq is distinctly different from World War II, and distinctly flawed in several ways, said Col. Michael D. Doubler Wednesday night.

Doubler, an author and military historian, critiqued the Iraq campaign for an audience that included a handful of WWII vets at the First Division Museum at Cantigny Park near Wheaton.

Doubler suggested there’s too much concern and empathy for Iraqi civilians and collateral damage at times.

“It was easier to kill the enemy when we dehumanized them,” Doubler said, reflecting on previous wars.

American troops can’t fire on an enemy without permission from officers, causing costly delays, he said.

“We missed Osama Bin Laden one time doing that,” Doubler said.

Another flaw is a general lack of a defined goal for the war and how to measure it, Doubler said. He called on national leaders to define the objective and inform the public about it.

Doubler then suggested destruction on a larger scale may be on the way. He pointed to the recent addition of chemical agents in enemy explosives.

“I would not be surprised if somehow a weapon of mass destruction is not somehow a part of the end of the war,” Doubler said.

At the same time, Doubler said there’s been too much description of war tactics in the media that has been useful to the enemy.

“We told them there was going to be shock and awe,” Doubler said. “You know the way we got shock and awe in World War II? We blew the hell out of them, and then the enemy told us that was shocking and awesome.”

Doubler criticized the overall lack of artillery the U.S. has used in Iraq as well as overly simple, reactionary tactics.

“I am befuddled by what we’re doing today,” Doubler said. “We’re trying to connect the dots. If we bomb certain things, (we think) the enemy will do this. Well, they’re not cooperating.”

American forces are extremely limited by the general lack of manpower and fatigue of the force because of lengthy tours, Doubler said. He estimated only 1 percent of America stepped up and volunteered to go to war following the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks.

“How much longer can we expect that 1 percent to carry the load?” Doubler asked. “We do not fully understand how thin that band of people is that are holding the line.”

Still, America cannot simply withdraw because terrorists are committed to kill Americans, Doubler said.

“We cannot pull out of there and have it turn into a nightmare,” Doubler said. “If it’s their nightmare, before long it’s ours.”

Duckworth delivers funds, hope to vets at Wheaton shelter

By James Fuller

Even as the staff at the Midwest Shelter for Homeless Veterans in Wheaton awaited Tammy Duckworth, a sign staked in a yard three doors away was a reminder of the political wars she’s already fought.

“Roskam for Congress,” read the sign.

Duckworth arrived at the shelter Wednesday with a new political war to wage: improved health care for veterans. Having lost her congressional bid to Republican Peter Roskam of Wheaton last year, Duckworth is now the director of the Illinois Department of Veterans Affairs.

The shelter staff believes her firsthand knowledge of the physical and mental wounds of war will bring needed change.

Duckworth delivered the promise of a $128,000 check for the shelter Wednesday. It will be the first facility in the state to reap the benefits of a state scratch-off lottery ticket game earmarked for veterans.

She had already visited the facility last summer. At the time, she was in a wheelchair, and the facility hadn’t yet opened. Wednesday, she navigated steps with the aid of a new, $100,000 prosthetic right leg.

The shelter has been open for two months and is already at capacity with five residents and a waiting list.

Shelter officials want to expand to 20 residents as soon as next year. To do that, they’ll need more money and an easier process to get veterans enrolled in entitled benefits. Ideally, the shelter would like to become a line item in the state budget.

Duckworth said such a move must come from the state Legislature. On her end, she’s in the process of hiring a grant writer for the veterans affairs department, a position that hasn’t existed. She believes it will bring more federal dollars to Illinois veterans and facilities like the one in Wheaton.

She’s also developing a single form to guide Illinois veterans through all the programs they may qualify for. She’d also like to see a relaxing of medical privacy laws so the state can obtain names of veterans as they return home and enroll them in benefit programs faster.

Duckworth is to testify in Washington, D.C., next week about long-term care needs for veterans.

Among the possible topics is the looming closure of Walter Reed Army Medical Center. The Washington facility is under the magnifying glass after news reports of mice, cockroaches and squalor.

Duckworth spent the bulk of her recovery time at Walter Reed after losing her legs when a rocket-propelled grenade blew up the helicopter she was co-piloting in Iraq in 2004.

She said Walter Reed is a good example of why at least the health care portion of the VA budget must be mandatory. Walter Reed does fabulous work but lacks a fabulous facility, she said.

“My truck that I drive around, it’s got a six-CD changer built into the back,” Duckworth said as analogy. “Walter Reed has the six-CD changer, except that their six-CD changer is sitting on the front seat, plugged into the cigarette lighter. That’s how they operate.”

Duckworth said Walter Reed must remain open while the U.S. is at war, and for up to five years after to address injuries that will take time to surface.

She said Walter Reed deserves the “bad rap” it’s getting for the conditions, but the staff isn’t to blame. The now-infamous Building 18 at the heart of the squalor was condemned while Duckworth was a patient, she said, but was reopened to house an influx of patients.

“They ran out of space,” she said. “They are being forced to expand their services while their money is being cut.”

jfuller@dailyherald.com

Soft news feature: Where did post office clocks go?

Where did post office clocks go?
March 08 2007

James Fuller Daily Herald Staff Writer

A clock on the left-hand side of the customer service counter greets patrons of the Washington Street post office in Naperville. Below it, a calendar of zebras tracks the date.

A cynic might say that setup allows customers to count down both the minutes and the days elapsing as they wait in line.

Some postal customers no longer get a chance to count the ticks as they get ticked off. Clocks are vanishing from post offices across the country.

The clock near Mary Becker at the always-busy downtown Elgin post office vanished at least six months ago, she said. Managers never explained to her or the other employees what happened to the clocks. So workers there developed their own theory.

"They have those secret shoppers come in sometimes," Becker said. "They don't want them to be able to see if it takes too long for someone to wait on them."

That may also be the working theory about why some post offices in Wheaton, Elgin, Naperville, Addison, Algonquin, Gilberts, West Chicago and Des Plaines, to name a few, no longer have clocks.

But that theory just isn't true, says Jim Mruk, U.S. Postal Service spokesman for Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, Missouri and Wisconsin.

"There's no widespread effort to remove clocks from retail areas," Mruk said - unless you count what happened at the turn of the new century.

A stamp promotion in some post office lobbies involved clocks counting down the hours to the new millennium, Mruk said. The clocks were supposed to expire at the crack of 2000.

"They kind of took on a life of their own," Mruk said. "People figured out you could reprogram them to count down to other things. So a message went out that it's kind of time to bring all these clocks in."

Wall clocks soon followed.

Mruk said post offices were encouraged in the same message to create "clutter-free, professional retail environments."

"Is it better to let people see the menu boards so they can make an informed choice?" Mruk said. "That was kind of a no-brainer. In some cases, when they took the clock down it really didn't make any sense to put it anywhere else."

At the post office in Wheaton, a back-lit, blue and white menu board now advertises services ranging from stamps to packaging tape - just like a McDonald's menu. And at 2:45 p.m. Wednesday there was no wait for customers. And no clock for them to realize it.

Diversity coverage: Black History in DuPage County

This story actually took several months of reporting whenever I got a free moment. Unfortunately, the DuPage County NAACP, and local African-American community simply hadn't received much media attention in about 30 years. As such, it took awhile to gain some trust and get people to open up about what they really thought

Black history in DuPage County
February 28, 2007



By James Fuller Daily Herald Staff Writer

DuPage County is not exactly thought of as a hub for African-American life.

There are few black elected officials in the county’s history. There are a handful of churches with primarily black members. There are even fewer neighborhoods with mostly black households.

For those reasons and more, groups such as the DuPage County branch of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People continue to blaze trails toward equality while maintaining a social support network.

Yet even as the NAACP sees accomplishments in the local black population, it fights to remind that same population those victories didn’t come without struggle. Longtime residents say younger blacks are too quick to believe the obstacles are gone.

Only 50 years ago, many of DuPage County’s blacks considered themselves lucky just to find a local place to live.

Most blacks in DuPage County back then lived in Wheaton but were relegated to two areas of the city. One was near Hill Street where the original Second Baptist Church stood. The other was by the intersection of President and Washington streets. Together, they were known as “The Hill” and “The Bottom.”

It’s not that blacks didn’t want to live outside those neighborhoods. They couldn’t.

Real estate agents wouldn’t show homes, banks wouldn’t loan money and homeowners wouldn’t sell to blacks.

Stuck at ‘The Bottom’

Blacks needed a fair shot at local housing and access to DuPage County’s jobs. This became the initial mission of the NAACP when it formed a branch in Wheaton in 1953.

The branch initially consisted of many whites, primarily Wheaton College students.

A breakthrough in housing didn’t come until 1966, when Claude Audley and the rest of the NAACP branch submitted a fair housing ordinance to the Wheaton City Council.

“I made it very clear what I wanted and that was integrated housing,” said Audley, now 87. He said most of the council scoffed at the idea.

That’s when the branch took to the streets with the county’s first civil rights march.

“The council was really afraid that we were going to tear up the city,” Audley said.

Wheaton passed the ordinance in 1967. Other DuPage communities soon followed.

“This changed the housing pattern in the Western suburbs forever,” Audley said.

Life in DuPage County is different now. Many blacks say they feel much more accepted, though many also say instances of discrimination or prejudice continue to occur.

In 1987, when the Rev. Andre Allen arrived with his wife and children in Wheaton to become the new pastor at Second Baptist — the home for the local NAACP in its early years — he was struck by how family-friendly the city was.

But on the second day of the move, Allen found a racial epithet painted on his garage.

“It was kind of a frightening experience,” he said. He’s had no similar experiences since.

Many blacks active in DuPage County today say one of the big challenges now is overcoming complacency within the black community.

Mario Lambert, a second vice president in the branch and, at 30, one of the younger members, said there’s a generation gap. After the equality struggles of the 1950s and ’60s, a generation of blacks were sheltered.

“With my parents, it was a general shielding away, sort of (like), ‘We don’t even want you to deal with the struggle,’æ” he said. I’ve heard that from other people about my age, too.”

That engendered a sense of empowerment but also a sense the struggle is over. That sentiment plays out within the NAACP branch, creating a subtle divide.

Not Granny’s NAACP

At a recent meeting of the branch in Lisle, about 20 people attended, many of them seniors. There were almost no twentysomethings. The rest, including branch president the Rev. Theresa Dear, are a generation in between.

“We are in a critical transition period right now,” Dear said as the branch announced its new officers. “The NAACP today is not your grandmother’s NAACP. You have to do more than read the constitution and bylaws. You’ve got to be active.”

The concern for some of the “old guard” is that they still have a place in the organization. Being active in Zady Odom’s day meant picketing and standing on corners to collect money to get the branch going. Her husband, Nathaniel, was one of the branch’s founders. He died at age 85 in 2003.

These days, Odom, 81, of Glen Ellyn, said she’s only slightly involved in the NAACP.

“What can I do?” she said. “The DuPage branch, the way it’s set up now with all the professionals and how they go to all the corporate organizations that support them, they’re not bothered with the way we had to do things.

“There’s nothing for a person on a lower level to go out and do,” she said. “Years ago, we were so small we could not go to places like Nicor Gas and get funding. They have people who do that now, and they get recognized. It’s just not the same, but it’s OK.”

Odom has seen the generation gap within her own family. Her oldest son is in his 40s and is just now taking an interest in local black history, she said.

“When the branch was organized in Wheaton years ago, it was bombarded with young black people who are now old black people,” she said. “Now most of our young people, when Black History Month comes along, they actually try to ignore it. Some of them, like my son, are just now beginning to recognize that they missed out on something along the way, part of their heritage.”

That reality makes some senior members a bit skeptical about the future.

Olivia Garth was president of the branch from 1987 to 1988. She fears a day when the DuPage NAACP exists “only on paper.”

“Too many people think everybody has arrived,” Garth said. “They think, ‘I don’t have to worry about Mr. Charlie doing anything to me. What do I need the NAACP for?’ People think it’s all equal today. It’s just more subtle.”

Squaring past, future

“Things have got to change, but don’t throw away the foundation,” Garth said. “Membership isn’t just for status. It’s not just, ‘Oh, I’ve got a card.’æ”

Others see the future of the group in the youth chapters being established at the College of DuPage, Benedictine University and Elmhurst College. The bridge to them may be people like branch vice president Lambert.

Lambert is quick to burden himself with multiple tasks and willing to make tough decisions on his own when needed.

At the same recent meeting, when Dear renewed the call for active participation, she singled Lambert out as a big part of the future of the NAACP.

“One day, when I leave this office, my prayer is that this man will lead this organization,” Dear said.

The president is elected by the membership. Until recently, Lambert was in charge of membership, a key role for ascension.

“If that was part of God’s plan, and the people believed in my ability, I would love to do it,” Lambert said.

As one of the younger members of the branch, Lambert sees the future as reaching out to younger members, but not abandoning the past.

“We’re really focused on recruiting right now,” he said. “It’s a work in progress. I can’t say we’re anywhere we want to be. I want to follow Rev. Dear’s strategy that we include the past leaders and the up-and-coming people.”

And so it plays out in Lambert’s own life.

Lambert recently lunched with the 87-year-old Audley in Lisle. Audley was reminiscing. Lambert was absorbing, strategizing.

“You have to use whatever methods you think are necessary to get people involved,” Audley said.

Finding new members may be like finding equal housing. And the struggle continues.