The site of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre is still among the most infamous in Chicago history. Yet today if one visits the site of the garage in Lincoln Park, no physical relics or reminders indicate that a legendary massacre ever happened there. In sleuthing into how the erasure of the site happened, I discovered both what remains of the garage today – scattered around the globe – and I uncovered some other pretty wacky stuff.
Capone vs. Moran
On the morning of February 14, 1929 four unknown assailants, two dressed as Chicago policemen, gunned down seven men in a Lincoln Park garage. This crime shocked the nation and had long-term effects on local and national law enforcement and politics.
Officially, the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre is an unsolved crime. The police were never able to identify the perpetrators and no one ever confessed. But nobody really doubted who was behind the hit: Al Capone. His Chicago Outfit, an Italian gang based on the South Side, were waging a long, bloody war with Bugs Moran‘s North Side Irish gang. All the victims of the massacre were associates of the North Side gang. Moran himself was to be there, but fortuitously fled before the shooting began. Capone apparently planned the massacre as a means of ending a five-year war over the city’s vice businesses. The gangster wars did die down, but not because Capone won.
Up to that time Capone had been a popular gangster–one could say even a celebrity. He courted publicity and openly allied his gang with the corrupt administration of Mayor William Hale Thompson. Many Chicagoans considered him a modern day Robin Hood. Yet this crime was so savage, bloody, and brazen that the public, newspapers, and law enforcement all turned on Capone. The press declared him”Public Enemy #1″ in 1930. A year later, the Feds finally got Capone, convicting him of tax evasion. His downfall, which started with the massacre, changed the trajectory of organized crime’s power in Chicago and beyond.
The Site of the St. Valentine’s Massacre and Its Infamous Wall
The massacre happened inside the SMC Cartage Company‘s garage located at 2122 North Clark Street in Lincoln Park. The company was a front for the North Side gang’s liquor distribution in the neighborhood. The hit men lined Moran’s men up against the rear wall of the garage and then fired dozens of rounds from two Thompson submachine guns. Bullet holes and blood spatters covered the wall’s bricks.
The garage itself became a tourist attraction almost immediately after the initial shock wore off. According to an account on prairieghosts.com, “[i]n 1949, the front portion of the SMC Garage was turned into an antique furniture storage business by a couple who had no idea of the building’s bloody past. They soon found that the place was visited much more by tourists and curiosity-seekers than by customers and eventually closed the business.”
Morbid curiosity made the building unusable for typical business, clearly. So it was demolished in 1967. Four collectors wanted to get their hands on the famous rear wall where the killing happened. The afterlife of that grisly wall is the weirdest part of the legacy of site of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre.
George Patey and His Bricks
The winner, if you could call it that, was a Canadian businessman named George Patey. He never disclosed exactly how much he paid other than saying “a few thousand dollars.” He had the 414 bricks from the rear wall shipped to Vancouver, Canada. Patey’s first venture with the bricks were as a mobile exhibit, shown in places like galleries and shopping malls. It was banned from the Pacific National Exhibition Grounds for being too violent.
After a comment Patey made that he’d like to assemble the wall to adorn his den, he won a “House Beautiful Award for Wretchedness.”. Esquire Magazine featured him in a list of “dubious achievements.” But poor Patey continued in his struggle to find others with the same fondness for these morbid bricks, and he tried to open a crime museum in 1969. It was a flop, especially with the wake of the many assassinations in the 1960’s.
Fair to say that Patey may have been more successful as a felt-pen manufacturer than a peddler of bloody curiosities. Characteristically, he decided to put the bricks in a Roaring Twenties-themed nightclub, the Banjo Palace, in downtown Vancouver. Highlights of the club included Canada’s largest circular barbecue and wax figures of gun-toting mobsters. The piece de resistance was, of course,the reassembled wall from the site of the St. Valentine’s Massacre in the men’s bathroom. Gentlemen could aim at urinal targets on the plexiglass-covered wall.
When the nightclub shuttered a few years later, Patey then sold some of the bricks as souvenirs, and failed at selling a pile of them for $200,000 in 1996. Eventually, many of the bricks were acquired by the Mob Museum in Las Vegas, where they’re displayed today. You can also see one on display in the Gerald R. Ford Museum in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
The Site of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre Today
The most tangible connection to the crime was lost when the garage was torn down. Today, the site where the garage once stood is just a small parking lot and lawn. They constitute part of the Margaret Day Blake Apartments, built by the Chicago Housing Authority a few years after the demolition. No sign, plaque, statue, or memorial of any kind indicates the infamous history of the location. In fact, if you’re looking for a physical tie to the slaying, your best bet is to turn and look across Clark St. The tremendously popular Chicago Pizza and Oven Grinder restaurant occupies the bottom floor of a Victorian brownstone used as a lookout by Capone’s gangsters.
I’ve always found this erasure of the site itself to be rather odd. The crime passed from news into mythic legend as soon as it happened.A Chicago Tribune journalist said in 1967 that the place became “the symbol of a romantic age of touring cars, fast women and illegal booze.” Capone was an amoral thug, no doubt, but he’s also an iconic part of the city’s history. Even today, nearly 90 years after the massacre, I’d wager that he’s one of the most famous people in Chicago’s history. Yet the site of his most infamous crime sits mute and empty.
In a way, I get it. Chicago was the city of the century before Capone. We’d grown at breakneck speed and impressed the whole world with the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition. Then the city’s image turned very sour in the 1910’s and 20’s. Partisan political machines led to civic corruption, race riots rocked the city in 1919, and Prohibition led to the calamitous gang wars of the 20’s. Chicago was no longer a short-hand term for growth and hope, but danger and rot. Why exacerbate that by honoring the city’s most shocking murder?
– Alex Bean, Content Manager and Tour Guide