CHICAGO -- Practically everyone has seen those captivating pictures of imploding government-built public housing high-rises. But we are rarely shown what, if anything, has gone back up in their place.

Here in the Windy City, the notorious Cabrini-Green and other equally desolate towers of terror that developer Philip Hickman scornfully calls "Velveeta cheese boxes" are being replaced, slowly but surely, by a mix of modern, brick-faced market-rate homes and subsidized dwellings.

Now, says Hickman, it's not unusual for people driving by in a shiny black Mercedes to stop to inquire how much one of the new houses costs.

But the transition has been anything but easy.

One of the most difficult roadblocks that had to be overcome was the inherent distrust of low-income residents who were being thrown out of their impoverished skyboxes to make way for brand new "three-flat" condominiums and single-family dwellings. And understandably so, according to Charles Shaw, the immediate past president of the Urban Land Institute.

"They've been promised things, or at least they think they ve been promised things all their lives, so they're angry," Shaw, a developer here for more than 30 years, told a group of housing reporters after they toured Chicago's Near North Side earlier this month as part of the National Association of Real Estate Editors annual conference.

"They don't trust anybody," agreed property manager William Moorehead, whose company oversees the public housing units cleverly hidden among the other market-rate apartments and for-sale homes. One unit in each three-story walk-up building is reserved for a low-income resident, but it is a different unit in each building.

But their distrust is going away, too, Moorehead told the journalists. "As our success began to snowball, and our commitments have been fulfilled, we've seen the trust begin to build," he said.

Developers also had to gain the confidence of market-rate buyers and tenants who were being asked to move in among low-income families and were understandably concerned they may soon find themselves living in or next to a trash strewn wasteland.

According to developer Dan McLean of the MCL Cos., a firm that specializes in urban properties, property management played the key role.

By taking over a function that was once handled by the Department of Housing and Urban Development and the Chicago Housing Authority -- and poorly, by most accounts -- developers like McLean and Hickman of the Habitat Co., the private firm now running the CHA, have been able to assure their young professional buyers their properties wouldn't deteriorate.

Because they have screened out people with criminal records and anti-social behavior, Moorehead and other on-site superintendents said they have had few major problems. "There's still a little bit of apprehension that everybody from public housing is a criminal," Moorehead said, "but we've tried to do things right."

Managers have gone so far as to teach low-income tenants how to use their dishwashers, central air conditioners and washers and dryers, and how to maintain their wall-to-wall carpet. "Some of these people have never had these things before," Moorehead explained.

In some cases, tenants are not permitted to paint their walls or clean their rugs until they're taught how. "Some people say that's overkill," the manager said, "but that's what we're committed to do."

The city has lent its support, too, by helping people move from welfare to work, arrange day-care services and find whatever other resources they may need to survive. It has even put in a public library, and is in the process of tearing down five schools and replacing them with new ones.

The city played no small part in the rebirth of a neighborhood that enjoys a great location and wonderful views but was left largely to its own devices, said Hickman. They've taken a leadership role, as well they should, for they have the resources to rebuild the community.

This isn't just a place to live, it s also a community.

For their part, Habitat, MCL and other smaller private developers are erecting homes that are, except for their newness, virtually indistinguishable from others in Chicago. What was at one time an inaccessible no-man's land where there were no streets and people were so isolated they had to "walk for blocks to get out" has been replaced by rows of houses with bay windows, angled roofs, front porches, wrought iron fences, private entrances and attached garages.

"We've approached this as market rate housing that just happens to be occupied by public housing people," said Hickman. "And we've restored the street grid that is the fabric of every community."

Still, though, there's a long way to go. Chicago has some 40,000 public housing units that have to be demolished, and some 19,000 families that have to be moved to suitable accommodations. And according to McLean, to keep the right balance, no more than 25 percent of the new units should be occupied by public housing tenants, at least for the time being.

Published: June 14, 1999

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