Happy quarter century

There is no scarcity of information about Brookfield’s old Grossdale Train Station, built in 1889 and removed to its present site in 1981. You can even find information about it on the Internet.

But what about the “new” Brookfield Train Station, at 8864 Burlington Blvd., opened on March 14, 1981? It wasn’t even mentioned-not one word-in the centennial book “Brookfield, Illinois-A History,” published in 1994.

Unless you hunt through the newspaper microfilm reels at the Brookfield Public Library, you’ll be hard pressed to find any facts about it at all. Unless you look up what I’ve written.

I mentioned the new station briefly in my article on the old Grossdale Train Station, “A Moving Experience” in the May 3, 2006 Landmark. Before that, I wrote a little about it in my 1990 book, “A Handsome Depot-The Centennial History of the Grossdale/Brookfield Train Station.” But the building is now an entire quarter-century old, and no one has yet written its early history.

The problem is that the new station is just too new. It’s not scheduled for demolition or facing massive renovation. So its history has been pretty much taken for granted.

It all began back in the early 1970s, when Brookfield went Colonial. First came the new village hall, officially opened in 1973. It was Colonial in style, right down to the white columns out front. Then in 1976 the shelter over the Bicentennial Bell was constructed-also Colonial, matching the village hall. But that wasn’t enough.

Everyone knew, even back then, that the Burlington Northern Railroad planned to demolish all three of Brookfield’s old stations, and that a new, central one would be erected. The village wanted that building to be Colonial in style, too, so it would match the village hall and the bell shelter. Though it was a railroad project, Brookfield would be ultimately responsible for maintenance of the new station.

At first, the railroad proposed that the new station be located east of Salt Creek, and right across from the village hall, hence, the “concentrated” Colonial atmosphere. The railroad’s theory was, that since the Hollywood station was going to be demolished, they would just put the new station closer to Hollywood. Village residents wrote letters to their elected officials, the railroad and newspapers, saying, in essence, that this was just about the dumbest idea they’d ever heard of.

James Skoda of Brookfield wrote that “the new east-of-Salt Creek station will have a tunnel built under the tracks. We will need police protection in the tunnel. The Brookfield taxpayers will have to pay for the police protection.”

Future Brookfield Village President Thomas Sequens wrote in a June 1977 letter that “the above-ground crossing opposite the [Kiwanis] Park would be a menace to children in the park, and could lead to a tragedy. An over-the-track stairway would be much safer.”

Unmentioned, at least in print anywhere, was the additional problem of building that east station along the inclined train tracks, several feet above ground level. This problem was of the railroad’s own making, as they themselves had raised the tracks so many times in the past. Finally, the railroad gave up and decided to locate the station west of the creek, just a few hundred feet away from the old station.

The village went so far as to say that, by way of installing parking meters on the north side of the tracks and east of Prairie Avenue, they would now charge commuters to park their cars, and that would pay for the maintenance of the new station.

One anonymous resident wrote in, suggesting that if parking stickers [costing $120 per year] were used, that villagers should not have to pay for them, but only those drivers from out of town, adding, “How about a ‘use tax’ on each Brookfield monthly train ticket sold?”

After the station was built, some parking meters were installed, but for raising revenue they proved to be failures.

But back to the drawing board. As of August 1977, four designs had been commissioned by the village. Designs for a Victorian, Colonial, contemporary and “underground” station were created by Bernheim, Kahn & Lozano Architects Ltd. of Chicago. Another Colonial design was submitted by Congress Park resident Robert M. Hockenbrough, but the village went with the Colonial design prepared by Bernheim, Kahn & Lozano.

The Suburban Trib for Feb. 1, 1978 reported that Village President Mylon Fisher declared that the Victorian design “seemed to fit the atmosphere of the village,” being a tall brick building with a clock tower. This structure was also vaguely European in style, with a weathervane at the top. The only odd, out-of-place element were the two undecorated dormer windows at the front of the station. However, Fisher was finally convinced, by the time of the village board meeting of June 11, 1979, to go with the Colonial style.

Besides the homey Victorian design, the other two that never saw the light of day were the contemporary, being a boxy, ultra-modernistic building that fit in with nothing that existed anywhere in the village; and the “underground,” which looked like a two-level (street and track) fallout shelter, utterly devoid of any warmth.

Taking a page from the businesses that had located in the remodeled Riverside train station, wings for this purpose were planned to be added on both sides of the Brookfield’s new station.

Village Manager Jeff Williamson approached 17 businesses, and they “had expressed little interest in buying and building the commercial space,” as reported in the Jan. 13, 1979 Suburban Life newspaper. Representatives from the Home Federal Savings and Loan Association of Chicago, and the Land of Lincoln Savings and Loan Association were positive, but slow to act. Williamson did not believe there was truly sufficient interest to proceed, so the extra wings were never added.

At the beginning, the new station’s financial picture had been bright. The Illinois Department of Transportation granted the money for the half million dollar station, a figure frequently mentioned by both the railroad and the village. Then inflation started to take its toll, and the needed amount rose above that mark.

At the village board meeting of Sept. 8, 1980, trustees learned that a deficit of $87,575 existed. Elements of the project would have to be cut back or eliminated entirely. Deletions considered were the cupola on top of the station, saving about $10,000; installing straight columns instead of fluted ones, saving about $3,000; making landscaping changes, also saving about $3,000; and changing shelter and platform plans, saving close to $36,000. Soon after, the West Suburban Mass Transit District authorized another $85,000 for the project. On Nov. 10, 1980, the Village of Brookfield issued the permit, #0012487, and work finally began.

Though more money came in, there were still design changes made. Two doors were set to be located, both streetside and railside, under centered porch roofs. Thus, the resemblance to the front of the village hall was to be even more apparent. But the two doors became four, and were located, instead, to the sides of the structure, with no covering canopies, so that when rain or snow fell, commuters in the station walked right out into whatever weather was coming down. To this day, everybody wonders why the doorways aren’t covered.

In late December 1980, the West Suburban Mass Transit District reported that work on the station was half finished, with all outdoor construction completed, and only indoor work to be done. While this was going on, the Burlington Northern railroad announced, just in time for Christmas, that it was cutting back on service by 15 percent, and raising its fares by 33 percent. Nice timing!

On March 14, 1981, the new station opened, a structure with a cavernous, echoing interior lacking any benches or eye-pleasing decoration. Some commuters missed the drafty old station, with its cracked tile floors, creaking old wooden benches and rattling windows. But at least it had restrooms and a drinking fountain. It still seems curious that in order to get an improved, new station, Brookfield had to give up some real conveniences.

Looking at the station today, there is, obviously, a much smaller cupola on top of the station than was originally planned. In fact, in ratio to the width of the station, it doesn’t seem to match very well. The tiny cupola doesn’t look like a decent-sized Thanksgiving Day turkey could fit in it. There used to be a weathervane on top, but it has disappeared in recent years.

The interior of the station measures 59 feet by 28 feet. Now there are seven benches and four ceiling fans move around air that used to be scented by the smell of brewing coffee and pastries. Today the coffee nook is closed, barren, and nothing is for sale, not even bottled water. You can’t even get a free napkin. Anybody want to open a small business here?

Once, when the new station was younger, commuters could look through the west bay window, and down the tracks, to see if their trains to Chicago were coming. Now lush, high bushes hide the view from the bay window, so no approaching train can be seen. Originally, the plans for the station showed the bushes taller at both sides of the bay window, and then smaller beneath, so people could look out.

There’s a sign announcing “Station Hours: Monday to Friday 5:15 a.m. to 1:15 p.m. Lunch: 11:30 a.m. to 11:50 a.m.” By the way, the station isn’t open on Saturdays, Sundays or holidays, although anyone bored enough can wander on over, anytime, and look at the train schedule, dated Nov. 22, 2004, on the window; make a call on the pay phone (local calls, no time limit, 50 cents); or, if smoking, use the Ash Stash bin, sold by Clean City Squares, Inc.

Also taped onto the railside window is the PACE bus line’s route #331 Cumberland Avenue bus schedule, a handy little item. While this may not be absorbing reading, the dead fly stuck between the schedule and the window offers a little comic relief. Now for the next 25 years.