Today in Chicago History: Stoning death of Eugene Williams triggers start of 1919 race riots
Is an important event missing from this date? Email us.
From Halas to Hester: The 32 Chicago Bears inducted into the Pro Football Hall of FameWeather records (from the National Weather Service, Chicago)
1919: Black teen Eugene Williams floated on a wooden tie past an invisible but mutually understood line that separated a Black beach at 29th Street from a white beach at 26th Street. White youths threw rocks at him, according to later investigations, and Williams, who could not swim, was hit and drowned. Although several people, white and Black, tried to revive Williams, a police officer at the 26th Street Beach was unwilling to arrest the rock throwers on the word of their Black accusers or to help Williams. Unequal justice proved to be the rule during the ensuing violence, until the four-day chaos finally was ended by the Illinois militia and a cooling rain. Williams is buried in Lincoln Cemetery in Blue Island.
Vintage Chicago Tribune: Disasters!!!!! Crashes, fires, riots and more from Illinois history.1960: A Chicago Helicopter Airways chopper, on a shuttle flight between Midway and O'Hare International Airport, crashed in a Forest Park cemetery after one of its rotor blades broke off. The accident killed the two crewmen and 11 passengers, and was blamed on a metal fatigue fracture in the blade. The federal government mandated more frequent inspections of the component.
1970: Sears, Roebuck & Co. — then the world's largest retailer — announced plans to build the world's tallest building — 1,450 feet high with 110 stories.
The Sears Tower opened in 1973, but was not completed until 1974.
Willis Tower is no longer the tallest building in the world. But it's still a trendsetter as it turns 50 this week.The 1,451-foot tower lost its crown as the world's tallest when it was surpassed in 1996 by Malaysia's Petronas Towers, and the American title in 2013 when New York City's One World Trade Center was completed. After decades of construction in Asian countries, it's now the 25th tallest in the world.
1970: A Sly and the Family Stone concert devolved into a riot. The show was supposed to be a goodwill offering, not only from city officials to the area's youths, but also from the band to the city to make up for more than one last-minute no-shows.
Instead, the rock show disintegrated into a riot that injured 162 people, including 126 police officers. Thirty of those officers were hospitalized. Three young people were shot, though it wasn't clear by whom. Cars were overturned and set ablaze.
Before its fury was exhausted, the mob rampaged through the Loop, breaking hundreds of windows and looting jewelry and department stores. Police arrested 160 people.
1982: Otto — a 450-pound gorilla who was the star of the 1976 documentary 'Otto: Zoo Gorilla' and named for disgraced former Illinois Gov. Otto Kerner — apparently scaled an 11-foot wall topped with electrical wires in an outdoor enclosure and escaped the Ape House at the Lincoln Park Zoo. He then lumbered north to the Primate House and climbed up a ramp to the Administration Building. He was sitting on the building's roof just above zoo Director Lester Fisher's office when veterinarian Tom Meehan hit Otto with tranquilizer darts. It took up to 10 zoo employees to place the gorilla on a stretcher and return him to the Ape House.
Vintage Chicago Tribune: How Wrigley Field got lights and why Cubs fans had to wait past 8-8-88 to raise 'W' flag1983: After rejecting arguments that a permanent ban would be illegal, aldermen voted 42-2 to pass an ordinance — which did not name Wrigley Field or the Tribune-owned Chicago Cubs — making it illegal to conduct any sporting event between 8 p.m. and 8 a.m. in a stadium that 'contains more than 15,000 seats where any such seats are located within 500 feet of 100 or more dwelling units.'
1993: The Smashing Pumpkins released 'Siamese Dream.' Singer-guitarist Billy Corgan told the Tribune: 'I'm writing albums for people of my generation, and if the rest of the world wants to listen, fine.'
Subscribe to the free Vintage Chicago Tribune newsletter, join our Chicagoland history Facebook group, stay current with Today in Chicago History and follow us on Instagram for more from Chicago's past.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
7 hours ago
- Yahoo
My husband and I moved in with my in-laws because we can't afford a home in Houston. We have zero privacy, but we're saving money.
My husband and I can't afford a starter home in Houston, so we had to move in with his parents. The living arrangement is difficult because we have no privacy, but my in-laws are also helpful. I'm not sure how long we'll be here, but I'm glad this is an option for us as we save money. I never thought I'd find myself arguing about dryer sheets with my mother-in-law at midnight, but that's my new reality. A few years ago, my husband and I moved in with his parents because the rent in Houston was eating into our savings. A "temporary stay" at my in-laws was supposed to be a temporary solution. We estimated six months, tops. Now it's three years, two career changes, and many "Are you still there?" jokes from my sister. Although we're saving money, it comes at a cost, as I've learned you can't hide in a multigenerational household. It's not easy living with my in-laws for this long I feel like I'm always sneaking around. I often creep into the kitchen early in the morning to prepare coffee without waking my mother-in-law up early. Date nights are like an escape plan. My husband and I whisper what we're streaming on Netflix because the television in our room has a wall that my in-laws' closet shares. Our arguments stay half-whispered, half-swallowed. Thin walls are our biggest problem. Irritants become daily tightropes, too. I once found my wet laundry heaped in a basket. There was no note, just a crisply folded pair of jeans that never quite dried. I was annoyed but couldn't say anything. There is a whole choreography to claiming fridge shelves, freezer space, and the prime pantry corner. We also have to label our leftovers in Sharpie so no one "accidentally" eats our takeout after a late night. I realize there are benefits to this living arrangement If you're imagining anarchy, you're on the right track, but that's only half the picture. There are perks that I sometimes forget about. When both my husband and I got COVID, my mother-in-law filled our bedroom doorway with soup, saltines, and bottomless mugs of mint tea. When our toddler threw a tantrum because I cut his toast "incorrectly," my father-in-law leapt into the conversation and calmed him down in the way only granddads can. I have watched my son spend more time with grandparents in one week than I did in a year. I also get cooking lessons from my mother-in-law; she taught me to make tamales on Christmas. We worked together, using her mother's steamer pot, which is older than my marriage. Either way, this is where my family needs to be right now Some days, it's stifling. Other days, it's the only reason we're still afloat. In Houston, starter homes look like luxury listings. This arrangement means our savings account exists at all. It means backup when day care falls through or the car breaks down. It means someone slips a plate of mango slices into my hand when they know I've had a rough day. The American dream needs a rewrite; sometimes it is not a white picket fence but a third fork at the dinner table, an in-law on the couch in the middle of a telenovela, and a sign that you don't have to do it all alone. Do I dream about owning my own place someday? Yeah. I dream of shutting a door and knowing nobody else can hear. But when we finally unpack that last moving box, if we ever do, I will miss the smell of tortillas in the morning, the stories of distant cousins I never met, and the way this messy, chaotic house has quietly taught me that family isn't just who you wed. Read the original article on Business Insider Solve the daily Crossword
Eater
7 hours ago
- Eater
Bill Elwell, Legendary Owner of Los Angeles Roadside Stand Bill's Burgers, Dies at 98
Bill Elwell, the owner of legendary San Fernando Valley burger stand Bill's Burgers, died on July 21 at 98 years old. Even late into his 90s, Elwell could be seen manning the flattop grill at his Van Nuys (eventually rezoned to Sherman Oaks) burger stand, flipping chargrilled patties as the line stretched away from its ordering window, down Oxnard Street. Elwell was born in 1926 and raised in the west Ventura neighborhood of Tortilla Flats. Before opening Bill's Burgers, he was in the Army during World War II, worked as a late-night taxi driver, and was a manager at Mission Linen Company. In 1965, Elwell purchased the burger stand that would become Bill's Burgers, which sat on the plot right next door to his job at the time. For the nearly six decades following, Elwell was constantly at the burger stand, serving well-seasoned patties topped with American cheese, iceberg lettuce, freshly sliced tomatoes, pickles, ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise. The flatop grill, still in use at the stand, dates back to the 1920s or 1930s. Elwell sourced the meat locally from Northridge, and it was ground fresh every morning. Legend has it that he was even spotted eating the patties raw if customers complained about them not being cooked enough. A line on the top of the menu read, 'You can't have it your way, this is not Burger King,' adding to the stand's dry humor. For some time, Elwell ran the stand as Bill & Hiroko's with his now ex-wife, Hiroko Wilcox, whom he met at a bowling alley decades ago. In a 2014 Los Angeles Times article, Elwell mentioned that another of his five ex-wives, Sharon Elwell, still came to the stand to help out a few times a week. At some point, Elwell renamed the stand back to Bill's Burgers, where it weathered the COVID-19 pandemic, and Elwell was still in the back flipping burgers. In July 2020, Elwell attempted to sell the business, but no sale ever materialized. As burger trends came and went in Los Angeles, from the crispy-edged smash burgers to thick bistro burgers, Bill's remained the same — a testament to Elwell himself and his longtime customers who kept coming back. In recent years, Elwell's age and consistent ownership have become a story in their own right. Eater LA conducted the first-ever interview on the burger man in 2013 at the age of 86. Over a decade later, virtually nothing had changed in the cash-only business except for the prices, even in the face of rising inflation. In 2011, a basic cheeseburger cost $3.35; by 2018, it had increased to $4.20, and by May 2025, it had risen to just $7. Though often gruff and other times grumpy, Elwell's straightforward persona as perhaps the oldest living burger cook in the country continued without greater coverage from national media. 'Whichever way I make the burger, that's the best way,' Elwell told Eater LA in 2013. 'But I like when people get double cheeseburgers with everything. That's what I'm famous for, I think.' Elwell is survived by his son James Elwell (Valerie) and daughter Charlene Morris, along with his grandchildren, great-grandchildren, great-great-grandchildren, and several nieces and nephews. A cheeseburger from BIll's Burgers in Los Angeles. Farley Elliott Eater LA All your essential food and restaurant intel delivered to you Email (required) Sign Up By submitting your email, you agree to our Terms and Privacy Notice . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.
Business Insider
8 hours ago
- Business Insider
My husband and I moved in with my in-laws because we can't afford a home in Houston. We have no privacy, but we're saving money.
My husband and I can't afford a starter home in Houston, so we had to move in with his parents. The living arrangement is difficult because we have no privacy, but my in-laws are also helpful. I'm not sure how long we'll be here, but I'm glad this is an option for us as we save money. I never thought I'd find myself arguing about dryer sheets with my mother-in-law at midnight, but that's my new reality. A few years ago, my husband and I moved in with his parents because the rent in Houston was eating into our savings. A "temporary stay" at my in-laws was supposed to be a temporary solution. We estimated six months, tops. Now it's three years, two career changes, and many "Are you still there?" jokes from my sister. Although we're saving money, it comes at a cost, as I've learned you can't hide in a multigenerational household. It's not easy living with my in-laws for this long I feel like I'm always sneaking around. I often creep into the kitchen early in the morning to prepare coffee without waking my mother-in-law up early. Date nights are like an escape plan. My husband and I whisper what we're streaming on Netflix because the television in our room has a wall that my in-laws' closet shares. Our arguments stay half-whispered, half-swallowed. Thin walls are our biggest problem. Irritants become daily tightropes, too. I once found my wet laundry heaped in a basket. There was no note, just a crisply folded pair of jeans that never quite dried. I was annoyed but couldn't say anything. There is a whole choreography to claiming fridge shelves, freezer space, and the prime pantry corner. We also have to label our leftovers in Sharpie so no one "accidentally" eats our takeout after a late night. I realize there are benefits to this living arrangement If you're imagining anarchy, you're on the right track, but that's only half the picture. There are perks that I sometimes forget about. When both my husband and I got COVID, my mother-in-law filled our bedroom doorway with soup, saltines, and bottomless mugs of mint tea. When our toddler threw a tantrum because I cut his toast "incorrectly," my father-in-law leapt into the conversation and calmed him down in the way only granddads can. I have watched my son spend more time with grandparents in one week than I did in a year. I also get cooking lessons from my mother-in-law; she taught me to make tamales on Christmas. We worked together, using her mother's steamer pot, which is older than my marriage. Either way, this is where my family needs to be right now Some days, it's stifling. Other days, it's the only reason we're still afloat. In Houston, starter homes look like luxury listings. This arrangement means our savings account exists at all. It means backup when day care falls through or the car breaks down. It means someone slips a plate of mango slices into my hand when they know I've had a rough day. The American dream needs a rewrite; sometimes it is not a white picket fence but a third fork at the dinner table, an in-law on the couch in the middle of a telenovela, and a sign that you don't have to do it all alone. Do I dream about owning my own place someday? Yeah. I dream of shutting a door and knowing nobody else can hear. But when we finally unpack that last moving box, if we ever do, I will miss the smell of tortillas in the morning, the stories of distant cousins I never met, and the way this messy, chaotic house has quietly taught me that family isn't just who you wed.
