What makes Ford Heights sights so special is the silent story pulsating between the rows of old bungalows and the wide fields of the former farmland. I remember driving over the old railway bridge for the first time, which once brought the agricultural products from Bloom Township to the city, and immediately got the feeling that there is more than just a suburb in the south of Chicago. The city was founded in 1949 as a “Ford City”, an ambitious project named after the automobile giant – a dream that never found the road of success, but left a distinctive flair for it.
If I turn the 95-south tip by car today, I'll stop at the small bus stop because I know that the local bus will take me to the heart of Ford Heights, where I like to sit in the small park and listen to the sound of the playing children. The people here are down-to-earth, a bit rough, but warm – just what I appreciate from “real” communities. And yes, I don't quite understand the hype about the hip neighborhoods of Chicago, but the silent alleys of Ford Heights have their own charm that keeps calling me back.
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The first stop was the Calumet River Trail, a narrow strip of asphalt and gravel, which moves like a sleeping dragon through the industrial and natural land. I unpacked my running shoes there on a lukewarm Saturday afternoon, just to see that most of the other “Joggers” were actually on the move with their strollers – a surprisingly family-friendly place when you ignore the gray factory slut. Parking is usually easy, except on Saturday night, there will be a real problem because then the whole neighborhood comes to barbecue.
A short trip across the 94 West leads to Chicago Portage National Historic Site. Here, where the natives and later the pioneers crossed the water between Lake Michigan and Mississippi, there is today an inconspicuous stone with a table that tells more about the story than one would expect from a place with so little signage. I made a picnic there because the grass has not yet been completely mowed by the city planners – a small act of rebellion against the too perfect tourist stage.
Go on Pullman National Monument, which is not only a museum, but a whole neighborhood that looks like a well-preserved time capsule set from the 1880s. I kneeled into the old working-class houses and tried to imagine how it was when the steam locomotives moaned in the morning through the street. The tour is informative, but I don't understand the hype about the “industrial culture” until I saw the original factory chore stones that glowed red in the sunset. Then the whole thing was really great.
A short trip over the Lakefront Trail brings me to 31st Street Beach on the south side of Lake Michigan. The sand is not as fine as on the North Shore, but the water has a surprisingly clear, almost turquoise touch when the weather plays. I spent a few hours there because parking on the beach is almost always free as long as you don't get to the high season – a rare fall in Chicago.
Just a few miles further, in the heart of Hyde Park, this is Museum of Science and Industry. I visited the museum on a rainy day because I thought it was the worst idea ever. Wrong thought: The huge exhibits – from a real U‐235 reactor to the huge submarine – are a real magnet for curiosity. The café on the ground floor serves the best espresso I haven't had for months, and parking is almost always available thanks to the nearby garage when you get early enough.
At the end a short detour University of Chicago. The campus architecture is a mix of gothic towers and modern glass facades, which together give an image that is both intellectual and aesthetically stimulating. I spent a little time admiring the library – a place where you almost feel that every book has a little secret. Parking is a bit tricky because most places are reserved for students, but a short walk from the nearby metro line is completely enough.
If you're wondering what's going on in the area of Ford Heights, let's get you out of the Ford Heights Attractions do not deceive – they are a colourful mix of nature, history and urban culture, which still entice every easy cynical traveler a smile.
This guide invites you to make a small but surprisingly self-contained ride through Ford Heights – yes, just that tiny spot in the south of Cook County, which you could easily overlook if you are not looking for a parking lot.
I must confess that my first heart palp here Ford Heights Community Center which lies directly on the park grounds of the same name. The building is a little like an old friend who still tries to work youthfully: the facade is made of simple brick, but the interior is packed with a swimming pool that attracts more visitors in the summer than a pop-up concert. I took a bath there once, while an older gentleman, besides me loudly, swarmed over the “good old times” of the 80s – a real culture shock, considering that the swimming pool is hardly larger than an average bath. Parking is usually easy, except on Saturday night, there will be a real problem because the entire district will be declared a “Bier‐und‐BBQ-Festival”.
A short walk further leads you to Ford Heights Library, which is part of the South Suburban Library District. I borrowed a book about the history of the railways in Illinois, just to see that the local history shelf houses almost exclusively empty cartons – a silent statement that the city prefers to look forward than to deal with its past. Nevertheless, the library is a quiet retreat, and the staff is so friendly that they even give you some tips for the best breakfast in Chicago Heights if you are hungry after reading.
If you long for a spiritual moment, the St. Joseph’s Catholic Church at 147th Street a surprisingly beautiful starting point. The church is not exactly an architectural miracle, but the stained glass windows cast a warm light that even the most sceptical visitors a little calmed. I remember how I accidentally pushed the last piece of cake from the community kitchen during a Sunday fair – the nun only rolled the eyes and gave me a smile that expressed more about the community than any sermon.
Another highlight I can hardly overlook is that Ford Heights Village Hall. The building is a relic from the 1970s, complete with a slightly sloping facade and a small but impressive mosaic that tells the story of the village in colorful stones. I took part in a civic day where a local politician tried to sell the idea of a new shopping mall – a concept that hit the local residents more on deaf ears because they wanted to keep the charm of their small town.
A little off the hustle and bustle lies the former Ford Heights Train Depot, a orphan platform that today serves more as a photo motif for Instagram users looking for “authentic” backgrounds. The rails are mostly away, but the old waiting house is still standing, and I spent a few hours there to listen to the quiet rats of the passing Metra train – a sound that somehow reflects the heart of the city: a bit quiet, a bit forgetful, but still in rhythm.
For sporty ambitioners there are Ford Heights Basketball Court at the end of the park, where local legends fight for supremacy every summer. I once played a spontaneous game with a few teenagers; Although they have called me more than “the old type”, I still met the decisive three – a moment that showed me that the real highlight here is not the infrastructure, but the people who fill the neighborhood with life.
And because I don't want to forget that I'm here to give you the Ford Heights Attractions I have to show that Ford Heights Fire Department mention. The red building is not only a symbol of security, but also houses an old restored erasing train from the 1950s, which can be visited on special occasions. I once asked the fireman why he chose the profession, and he only replied: “Because we never know what happens next.” A sentence that expresses more about the unpredictable nature of this small place than any brochure.
At the end of the day, when the lights of the road slowly flicker and the silent sum of the Metra trains in the distance, I feel that Ford Heights is small, but every corner holds a small piece of personality – a bit rough, a bit charming and always ready to surprise the visitor with an eye-catcher.
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