Everyday History: The Story of 11106 Front Street

   It doesn’t strut about Front Street like a peacock, nor will it be noticed for its architectural detail or outward flair. While those interested in the antiquity of our community may at first be drawn to such higher profile locales as Little Al’s Tavern, the former Paul E’s restaurant or Wolf Road’s Denny Cemetery, few places in Mokena are as richly steeped in local flavor and history as the old landmark at 11106 Front Street. A century and a half have come and gone, and this place has weathered the test of time, standing on our town’s main street like an old friend. 

The historic property at 11106 Front Street has seen over a century and half of life in our village.

   As we look backward through the ages, and follow the thread of the building’s past through the twists and turns of the decades, it’s hard to find the exact beginning, as is often the case with places of such an age in Mokena. In its earliest life, the place must have been an inn, as in days of yore the second floor was configured with a central hallway running the length of the building, with a series of small rooms situated on each side. Whoever might have run this establishment, and in what era, remains nebulous. What can be concretely reconstructed in the thick fog of time is that Johann and Helena Schiek sold this lot and the one adjoining it to the north to Wilhelm Jakob on November 10^th, 1868, the latter gentleman having paid $2,400 for it. It is likely that today’s structure was already there at this point, a time and place far in our past.  

 

  Wilhelm Jakob is a figure that goes hand in hand with the early days of Mokena. Born July 14^th, 1822 in the German grand duchy of Hessen-Darmstadt, by the time he was a young man he had immigrated to America’s shore and made a home in Chicago. There he was married to fellow Hessian Catharina Köhler, and together they experienced life in the blooming midwestern metropolis in the heady days of its youth. In 1850 the Jakobs lost their first-born child, an infant son, and within a year, struck out from the city into the verdant prairie surrounding it, and so it was that in 1851, they made their home in the freshly formed Frankfort Township. Part of the great Germanic wave that settled eastern Will County in this era, the Jakobs were here in 1852 when the steel rails of the Chicago, Rock Island and Pacific Railroad were laid and witnessed the birth of Mokena, while the same year, Wilhelm and Catharina welcomed their daughter Philippine to their home. 

 

   By 1860, the family patriarch had Americanized his name to William Jacob, and was tilling a small farm in the far northeast portion of the township. In the first few years after the end of the Civil War, Jacob put away his plow and moved to Mokena, upon which he acquired the Front Street property and opened a beer hall there to sate the thirst of his fellow German citizens. 

 

   The Jacobs’ everyday life was marred by a harrowing experience in the summer of 1876. A mere three days after our country’s centennial, and a week and half after General George A. Custer’s brutal defeat in the Montana Territory, a burglar gained entry to the Jacob premises.  

That early morning of Friday, July 7^th, the would-be thief pried open a back window, and slithered into the saloon. Helping himself to William Jacob’s gold pocket watch and chain, a revolver, and twenty dollars in cash, (or about $527 in today’s money) he was caught red-handed by the barkeep himself. In the darkness, Jacob fumbled for a way to attack the prowler. He picked up a chair and went to strike, but in the inky night and swirling confusion, he wasn’t able to see his target properly, and clubbed his wife Catharina instead. The housebreaker escaped with his loot, and was eventually caught in Chicago due to the dogged pursuit of Henry Stoll, a fellow village resident. The watch, chain, and revolver were recovered, although the historical record is unclear if William Jacob ever had his money returned. 

 

   While Jacob may have been a Hessian by birth, he was nevertheless a patriotic American in his adopted land, as is evidenced by the dance he threw for George Washington’s birthday in February 1876. He gave a “German ball” the Monday after Christmas 1875, and on New Year’s Eve, he held what was called his first “American ball.” For the latter it was noted that Jacob would close his saloon, and without mincing his words, the Mokena correspondent to the Joliet Republican stated that “Mr. Jacob…says he will have strict order.” These words wouldn’t have been taken lightly, as this watering hole could occasionally be a rough and tumble place, as was evidenced by the soiree that was held here on Friday, October 1^st, 1875. In a post brawl report, the Republican wrote that the gathering “went off nicely, until some beer soakers disturbed the party; a little boxing, cuffing, scratching and the likes of such, which is generally found at a beer place.” A more subdued time was had at the New Year’s Eve ball held a little later, when Mokenians rang in 1876 with dancing until dawn. 

 

   By 1878, Mokena was veritably beer soaked, with seven saloons counted in the village that year, one of which was William Jacob’s. By the summer of 1883, the Will County Advertiser indicated that the barkeep was re-opening his doors after a period of having been closed, which was possibly due to the death of his wife Catharina, who expired from a blood disorder that May. In perusing the records of dram shop licenses issued by the newly-formed village government, it seems that William Jacob finally shuttered his tippling house sometime around the summer of 1890. 

 

   Enter to the stage at this point William and Catharina Jacob’s daughter Philippine, who is integral to the history of this property. Shortly before she turned nineteen in 1871, she married Mokena farmer Robert Bechstein, who tragically died of smallpox in the prime of his life ten years later. It would later be remembered that some member of the Bechstein family ran a store here at the end of the 19^th century, but any details have long since dissipated into the mists of time. 

 

   Regardless of what business was being carried on, at the turn of the 20^th century Philippine Bechstein and her now elderly father continued to live at this spot. A curious incident occurred in November 1901, when the elder Jacob narrowly averted a disaster. He was on the wooden front porch taking in the autumn air, when he struck a match to light his pipe. Tossing the match aside, the hot stick combined with the dry wood caused a fire that had taken on some size by the time he noticed it. In hurrying to grab a pail of water, Jacob was able to put out the flames before they caused serious damage. 

 

   So it was that William Jacob departed this mortal life on August 24^th, 1905 at his Mokena home, after a long battle with dropsy. His obituary praised him as being “possessed (of) those sturdy qualities which make the Teuton a good man and a valuable citizen.” Philippine Bechstein retained ownership of the building in the era after her father’s passing. Within a few years, it had been converted into a multi-purpose space which came to be known around town as Bechstein Hall. Known by this moniker as early as 1913, it was used by everyone from the Mokena Friendship Euchre Club and the Royal Neighbors, to the Modern Woodmen of America. Typical of the happenings at Bechstein Hall was the banquet held by the Young People’s Association of St. John’s on Saturday night, March 11^th, 1916. It was put on by the boys of the group, for the sole purpose of feting the Association’s girls. 

   The youth had assembled at the Mokena Street home of Christian Bechstein, Philippine Bechstein’s brother-in-law, from whence the group made their way to the hall. Upon entering the building, the girls had to pass through a lane comprised of the boys, who were clad in yellow and white and donning white caps. The hall was fancifully decorated in yellow and white, with yellow daffodils adorning the tables. The young men cooked the entire menu themselves, but in the end did get a little help in making pies for dessert. At the end of four courses, the teens were entertained by Miss Charlotte Marouse, who acted as a fortune teller. All in all, Bill Semmler, Mokena’s correspondent to the Joliet Herald-News deemed the evening “one of the most pleasing church functions of the season.”

A window into a forgotten world: Front Street circa 1910. Today's 11106 Front Street is at third from right. 

 

   For eight years in the era leading up to the First World War, Dr. Elizabeth L. Ireland, a Joliet dentist, kept her office here. She was open to patients a couple days of every week, and years later, local scribe Clinton Kraus would remember in plain, direct words that “she used old fashioned methods.”

 

   Shortly after New Year 1917, August Pfleger purchased the building as well as the large barn that sat on the lot for $2,400, after the property had been in the hands of the Jacob and Bechstein families for nearly half a century. This changing of hands was no small news, and in reporting the sale local newsman Bill Semmler wrote that “the property in question is an old landmark in Mokena and considerable local history is attached to it.”

 

   Like William Jacob before him, August Pfleger was a native of Germany, having made his way to the United States in 1905 at the age of 19 after having done a stint in the army of his homeland. An early employee of Bowman Dairy’s bottling plant in Mokena, he married 28-year-old Helen Braun in the spring of 1916. A resident of the village since she was four years old, Helen’s brother Albert Braun was a Mokena fixture, who kept a well-known blacksmith shop a few doors west of their property. Upon moving into the Front Street building in 1917, the Pflegers opened an ice cream parlor here, which around 1924 gave way to a grocery store.

 

   While Front Street was already home to two other full-service grocery stores in these years, the Pflegers and their young daughter Genevieve were nevertheless able to carve out a niche for themselves in the fabric of our community. Their store was just a fraction of the size of the others in town, and while they only carried a handful of groceries, meat was what the Pflegers were known for. While they tended not to advertise their business in the local News-Bulletin, Helen Pfleger was no less a go-getter, being known to place friendly calls to Mokena’s mothers, reminding them that mighty good liver was on hand at the store. She was a pleasant lady, with a grandmotherly air to her personality. In addition to being remembered for her salesmanship, many are the fond memories that still exist of the large potted palm tree that stood in the store. 

 

    As August and Helen Pfleger aged, activity at the shop began to slow down, and in the spring of 1949 a sale was held to sell off stock and some of their equipment, such as show cases and counters. An era ended when Helen Pfleger passed away as the result of a stroke on March 1^st, 1951. Just over a month later, her husband held another sale, this one organized by local auctioneer Charles Erickson, where all of the fixtures from the store, such as shelving, the cash register, scales and slicers, and a commercial ice box, found new homes. August Pfleger continued to live at this locale until he too passed, in January 1954. 

 

   By and by, the historic old building was converted to apartments; two of the early families to live there were the Erdmanns and the Logans. The storefront was vacant for quite a long time, but in later years would come to house such enterprises as Kay Travel in the 1980s, in addition to various other short-lived ventures. If these time-honored walls could talk, they’d regale us with tales of weary travelers laying their heads to rest, of high-intensity barfights, of times of great mirth, and neighbors coming together. This old landmark is a priceless relic of the earliest days of Mokena, and deserves our veneration as such. 

A Carnival of Blood: The Mokena Riot of 1864. Part II.

(What follows is the continuation to last week's entry)

The Dead and Wounded

 

    As the smoke and dust settled, both in a literal sense for Mokena, and psychologically for those who instigated the riot, a dour assessment of the casualties began. As far as history can tell, no Mokenians were fatally hurt in the affray; the brunt of the casualties were borne by the Chicagoans.  Due to the chaos of the event itself, and the urgency with which the injured were whisked to their city homes, any definite number of the casualties inflicted in Mokena could never be established. Media accounts range from vague descriptions of chest and side wounds suffered by unnamed victims, to the graphically detailed narratives of those whose injuries read like a battlefield report.

 

    One Farnham S. White, a barkeep at a hostelry called the House of David on Dearborn Street, was named as having been shot in the right side of the head; the projectile having fractured his skull just above the ear. He was not expected to survive the grievous wound. Interestingly, White was noted as having been seated in a passenger coach that had been stalled on the siding when he was wounded by a stray ball. Injured in the same manner was one Nicholas Geary, who was severely wounded in the right arm while sitting with a young lady, as well as a Billy Pinkerton, who was hit in the hand by possibly the same ball that struck Geary.

 

     A man known only by the name of Kelly was said to have taken a ball in the shoulder. An unknown gentleman was shot either in the leg or groin; surgery was performed on him at the same night at his home at Michigan and Market Streets. Perhaps the case of Michael Casey was the most unique of the whole affair, namely in that it is rich with detail. A 24-year-old single man, Casey was mortally shot through the side in Mokena, the lead pistol ball having punctured his liver. Listed by at least one newspaper as part of the gang that left the train to fight, Casey lingered in agony for two days before eventually dying between 7:00 and 8:00 on the morning of August 16. Employed by the Illinois Central Railroad as a machinist, Michael Casey lived in the boarding house he died in at 162 Van Buren Street. He left behind two sisters. After his death, the Cook County Coroner held an inquest over his remains, but in the words of a contemporary journalist, “very little evidence concerning the affray (in Mokena) was elicited.”

 

     What was certain, is that in most circles, no sympathy was felt for any of the hurt. A reporter from the Chicago Tribune, who was careful to precede his statement with “if the information we received was correct”, wrote that the “assailants were properly punished.”

 

Upon Printed Pages

 

      As far as can be told, the rich historical narrative of the events in Mokena that summer night is completely true, and no fiction or embellishing has been added to this telling of the riot and its aftermath. It was reconstructed as coherently as possible amidst a confused tangle of contemporary reports, accounts that at times were vastly contradicting.

 

     The majority of current knowledge of this calamitous event comes from media contemporary to the incident, and this is perhaps the most interesting aspect of all. Attesting to the brutality of the fight, the riot was covered in at least five different newspapers, those being namely the Joliet Signal, the Chicago Tribune, the Chicago Evening Journal, the Chicago Times, and a German-language publication called the Illinois Staats-Zeitung.Each of their reports, in some cases carried over the space of two days, are in disagreement with those of their fellow journalists. Everything from the exact number of rioters, whether or not they came armed, even the approximate number of casualties is extremely clouded. What is clear however, is that each newspaper, in the style of the day, made no effort to hide which party had won their respective sympathies. 

 

    The Chicago Tribune distinguished itself with providing the most detailed and (relatively) objective reporting on the entire affray. Although he perhaps overestimated the total number of pleasure seekers that left Chicago the morning of August 15^th with 4,000, their reporter did reckon with eight to twenty casualties that night, perhaps three of which had been mortally wounded. He was of the opinion that the attack on Schiek’s inn (referred to incorrectly as the “Northwestern House”) was surely premeditated, as large stones were allegedly bought from New Lenox for the direct purpose of causing mayhem in Mokena. The writer mentioned a grim rumor that had reached the city stating that John Schiek had been lynched by the mob, but staying true to the facts, gave it no credence in his columns. The Tribune included a slight anti-Irish slant to their coverage, not only highlighting the drunkenness of the crowd, but also adding that the destruction of Schiek’s property was “in the matter of the countrymen” of those who began the ruin of the Western Hotel. 

 

     While the Chicago Evening Journal carried much of the same information that the Tribune did, its reporting placed special emphasis on the difficulty of attaining reliable witness accounts. Their source placed the number of wounded at anywhere from 10 to 30, but lead the reader to believe that this number exclusively referred to those wounded by stray rounds landing amongst the train coaches. The writer at the Evening Journal stated that “many persons say there were five or six killed” in the melee, while “others insist there were none”. A rumor was acknowledged that two or three of the attackers were killed outright, and hastily left on the ground in Mokena, where they fell. Their columnist noted that “the whole affair was brutal and reprehensible on both sides.” As of a day after the riot, no one in Chicago had been arrested for the clash, and those at the Evening Journal hoped that none of the guilty would escape without being punished. 

 

     In the pages of the Joliet Signal, one of Will County’s premier newspapers, a staunch defense of Schiek and his actions was to be found. The identity of the Signal’s correspondent has been lost to time, but he presented a very pro-Mokena stance to his readers. Without question, he stated that the episode was the “most fearful riot that has ever occurred in this county, and resulted from the excessive use of ardent spirits”, and insisted that the Chicagoans were already gregariously drunk and inclined to violence upon their arrival in Mokena. The last paragraph of the Signal’s reportage is a defensive editorial, coming to the guard of the shaken John Schiek. Readers were told not to place the blame for chaotic night on Schiek, who as an established resident of Mokena, was “always recognized as a quiet, peaceable man, who attends to his own affairs.”

 

      The Chicago Times presented the grisly fight in the larger context of the raging Civil War. Headlining their column “A Carnival of Blood”, scenes of the war were drummed into readers’ minds with phrases like “brothers are sheathing bayonets and hurling bullets into brothers’ hearts”, and “the bloody infection of war is growing with fearful rapidity.” It is easy to infer that the Times was blaming the war with a concurrent wave of crime that had Chicago in its grip, ultimately stating “for what does one life amount to when thousands are being killed in every battle?”

     As the Times’ coverage of the riot began, a distinct tone in the writing of their correspondent crept to the surface. He exploited the opportunity to address his readers in a haughty tone as if from a metaphorical high horse, and spared no detail in penning a very inflammatory, and ultimately anti-Mokena piece. According to the account of the unknown journalist in question, John Schiek greeted the excursionists at gunpoint when they entered his place, and ordered them to leave the premises or suffer the consequences. A violent outburst then ensued in the derisively named “grog shop”, the cause of which, in the face of the overwhelmingly disagreeing historical record, was allegedly not known to the travelers.  From the perspective of this writer, Schiek and his acquaintances, who were called “infuriated wretches”, also pointedly opened fire on women and children who were near open doors on the railroad coaches. Once again, this account is not mentioned in any other period sources. 

 

   Any account of that horrible day would be remiss not to acknowledge the extensive coverage of the Chicago-based, German language Illinois Staats-Zeitung. Of all the publications surveyed, none was more vocal about the events that August day. The Staats-Zeitung provides a unique, you-are-there look into the violence that day, as its reportage contained detailed correspondence from two of the Mokenians who felt the wrath of the “whisky-soused Irish rowdies”, Conrad Stoll and Moritz Weiss. 

    First and foremost, pharmacist Weiss wanted to set the record straight on the condition the excursionists were in when they steamed into town. In a letter to the editor penned in his mother tongue, he wrote “Allow a witness to report the truth…to your honored sheet.” While the Chicago paper had managed to send a reporter to Mokena, Weiss noted that he was “only able to report over a short time in a skin-deep way.” He communicated to the paper that the excursionists of the St. Vincent de Paul Society were the cause of three fights at Cold Spring Grove, after which “the cowards trampled down ten acres of corn, like a herd of swine”, after which they “split up lots of schnaps between themselves” and took the train to Mokena, in a “properly tanked-up” condition.  

   Moritz Weiss confidently declared that none of the gunfire emanating from the Mokenians hit the railroad cars, and in closing demanded that a proper investigation take place in the matter. 

 

   Mokena storekeeper Conrad Stoll praised the Staats-Zeitung’s coverage of the drunken riot, but modestly added that they still “didn’t know the tenth of what happened.” After submitting his richly detailed account of the day in German words, he pleaded to the editor to “please be so good to put all of this in the paper, so that law-abiding people can see what a band of rogues this was.” He also wished for the perpetrators to be brought to justice, and for them to made responsible monetarily for the damage that was inflicted upon Mokena that day. 

 

An Uncertain Aftermath

 

     In the end, it remains unknown if any of the parties involved in the melee were ever prosecuted. The matter is further complicated by the fact that legal records of any sort pertaining to the Cook County participants would have been destroyed in the Chicago Fire of 1871. As bitter as this truth is, the fact must be accepted that this portion of the fearsome night’s aftermath will forever remain unknown to modern Will County.   

 

    The grisly summer in Mokena and its blood harvest were quickly forgotten to the tides of time. Another ethnically charged incident in town during the 1890s (albeit one with no fatalities) sparked a flicker of remembrance by some locals, who in turn retold slightly distorted recollections to a Joliet reporter. Aside from the contemporary news accounts of the 1864 riot, it was never again mentioned in the known printed record. Past county and local histories gloss over the event, possibly in shame, but more likely in unawareness. Descendants of longtime, founding Mokena families recall no details of it having been passed down through the generations. 

 

    The fates of those Chicagoans who left the cars in Mokena that night remain unknown. Of the few identities that have surfaced from the fog of decades, those have proved unusually difficult to trace. Of those injured that weren’t already listed as having died, it can’t help but to be pondered if some lived for decades afterward carrying pistol balls in their limbs and extremities, telling tales of mayhem in a small town no one had ever heard of.  

 

    In a rather lucky turn, history has been generous in recording the life of John Schiek after the ghastly fight. In the post-Civil War era, he seems to have turned his focus to farming. In an 1873 plat map of Frankfort Township, Schiek’s name flows across a large portion of the township’s northwest. Included in this substantial acreage were two farms, ostensibly one could have served as Schiek’s main residence, while the other would possibly have been under the care of a family member or a leasee. Until relatively recently, one of these farms, having been situated on Wolf Road approximately 460 yards north of today’s 191^st Street, boasted a commodious farmhouse built in the Italianate style, contemporaneous with the era in which Schiek would have owned the property. Of the other farm, located on the north side of 191^st Street at what is now Schoolhouse Road, no trace remains. Upon leaving the ownership of the Schiek family in the early 20^th century, modern construction was carried out on this estate. 

 

     As years progressed, John Schiek became very involved in Mokena’s affairs. In the spring of 1887, he received a seat on the Mokena village board, taking part in the decision-making that marked the first few years of the village’s incorporation. Not long thereafter, John Schiek found himself in the sunset of his life. As he became ill, his mind surely wandered to thoughts of better days, and perhaps, also to a day of horror – the wanton destruction and gore at his hotel on August 15^th, 1864. Schiek passed away in Mokena the night of February 25^th, 1890 to a deadly combination of kidney inflammation and influenza. No sooner than Schiek’s family and friends laid his earthly remains to rest at St. John’s Cemetery, amid a sea of obelisks etched with flowing Germanic script, had his comrades from the village board honored him with a special resolution. Passing sympathy to the Schiek family, the resolution read, in part “…we mourn for one who was in every way worthy of our respect and highest regards.”

 

    At the epicenter of this entire account, stands Schiek’s Western Hotel, the site of the fatal riot. Over a century and a half after that night, the question begs itself of where exactly the inn stood in Mokena. In pouring over period property records, little solid information can be extracted. In an interesting footnote to history, a mysterious incident in 1875 could potentially shed light on the mystery. Although the period in question was one in which John Schiek considered himself a farmer, he still retained ownership on a building in Mokena. In November of the aforementioned year, a disastrous fire ravaged the property, destroying it. The wooden structure was devoid of inhabitants, and interestingly, the fire was quickly deemed the work of an arsonist; a rumor even spread in the area that the stench of an acrid kerosene accelerant could be smelled for a two-block radius. 

 

     Could this have been the site of the riot eleven years previous? At this late point, it is impossible to know. Too few details have survived the decades to hazard a guess. 

 

   So it was, that on a summer evening during our great Civil War, a booze-soaked hoard of troublemakers from the city came to our town looking for trouble. They found it, in this little known, yet significant event in the early history of Mokena. This incident, in all its wretchedness, deserves to be remembered as a major part of our narrative.