Kup's Chicago - Irv Kupcinet [57]
When our combination City Hall-County Building was constructed, the County Building side cost a million dollars more than the City side, although the two sections were identical. When businessmen sought franchises for trolley lines, or for gas and electric utilities, the “Gray Wolves” of the City Council shook them down for huge pay-offs in every ward in which they operated. Chain-balloting, “deadheading,” and other fraudulent election practices were commonplace.
Like everything else in Chicago, politics made good copy. Such colorful characters as (“Bathhouse”) John Coughlin, who operated a Turkish bath, and Michael (“Hinky Dink”) Kenna saw to that.
Back at the turn of the century, when each ward had two aldermen, Bathhouse and Hinky Dink ran the notorious First Ward, which included parts of the Loop and the Near South Side.
Hinky Dink, the team’s “inside man,” supervised police payoffs and other administrative details of their gambling and vice empire. He seldom spoke in public – but when he did, he was always worth quoting. Returning from a trip to Europe, for example, he had this to say for two of the cities he had visited:
“Rome? Most everybody in Rome has been dead for two thousand years. Monte Carlo? Great place! I spent two days there and broke even. I didn’t play.”
Bathhouse John was the speechmaker and “front man.” Passionately fond of loud clothing, he might appear at a City Council meeting in a pearl-gray suit, green-and-white checked waistcoat, and yellow-tan shoes. He was a prolific composer of songs and “poetry.” One song to which he claimed authorship had the evocative title, “Dear Midnight of Love.” One of his more delicate poems began:
On with the dance,
Let the orgy be proper.
Don’t drink, smoke, or spit on the floor,
And say, keep your eye on the copper.
Of all the activities of Hinky Dink and Bathhouse, their First Ward fund-raising balls are probably the most renowned. At the beginning, these balls were relatively small affairs, but they soon had to be moved to the Seventh Regiment Armory. Finally they got so big that they overflowed even the enormous Chicago Coliseum. More than fifteen hundred people attended the last one, which was held in 1908. And what people! As one reporter noted, any disaster at a First Ward ball would have “wiped out every dip, second-story worker, plug-ugly, porch climber, dope fiend, and scarlet woman in Chicago.” The 1908 ball might not have been the last if a few of the merrymakers had not grown overly enthusiastic. But when they began smashing chairs, breaking glasses, and throwing their fellow guests into the alley, a general riot developed, and reform elements in Chicago decided that this was the dramatic issue they had long been waiting for. Led by stationer John Cole, better known as “Citizen Cole,” they staged a campaign that ultimately resulted in a cleanup of the notorious Levee district. The Everleigh Club and other fancy brothels were closed down, and the empire of Hinky Dink and Bathhouse fell to pieces.
In recent years, there have been only a few politicians with the boisterous flair Bathhouse had. The late Charlie Weber was one. As alderman of the Forty-fifth Ward, he sponsored the annual Garbagemen’s Ball, built a group of public playgrounds at his own expense, and instituted Charlie Weber Kids’ Days at Riverview Amusement Park. He also published a chain of newspapers on the Northwest Side.
An even more flamboyant individualist is Mathias (“Paddy”) Bauler, the Near North Sider who is known as “the last of the saloonkeeper aldermen.” One of thirteen children, Paddy began his career as a singing waiter and master of ceremonies in a saloon owned by his older brother, Herman, who preceded Paddy as alderman. As an entertainer, Paddy always wound up his act by holding a half gallon of beer at arm’s length, then draining it in one long, unbroken swallow. As alderman of the Forty-third Ward he used to hold court in a back room of his saloon (now closed), which