Chicago's South Shore has a mature, urban nature that disguises its evolution from marshland to farmland, and from suburb to city neighborhood. Located between Jackson Park and Seventy-ninth Street, and from Lake Michigan to Stony Island, the marshland of the 1800s was first settled by German and Scandinavian truck and flower farmers. Beginning in the 1890s, the Illinois Central Railroad Electric Line expanded into what was largely undeveloped farmland, setting the stage for one hundred years of development and demographic change. From Hyde Park to Jeffery Manor and South Chicago, the pictures contained in Chicago's South Shore show many of the faces, places, and events that marked the evolution of the area. German, Swedish, Irish, and African-American families are just a fraction of the many groups who have called South Shore home. Today, largely through the redevelopment efforts of South Shore Bank, the neighborhood promises to build on its glorious past and play a vital role in Chicago's future.

Conceived in 1906, during an era of formal balls and Gatsbyesque lifestyles, the South Shore Country Club began as an idyllic lakefront retreat for the wealthiest of Chicago's movers and shakers. Marshall and Fox, architects of the Drake, Blackstone, and Edgewater Beach Hotels, were hired to design an opulent, Mediterranean-style clubhouse for a membership that included the Armour, Swift, Palmer, and Glessner families. The grounds provided a private stable, beach, and golf course. Tennis, horseback riding, and skeet shooting were enjoyed by guests the likes of Jean Harlow, Will Rogers, and Amelia Earhardt. Between the first and second World Wars, a housing boom brought the development of luxury cooperative apartments and mansions to the neighborhood surrounding the club. After World War II, the new money of an upwardly mobile middle class replaced the old money of the original members. Membership peaked with the Golden Anniversary in 1956-only to decline as the 1960s brought racial and economic changes to the surrounding community. On July 14, 1974, the club held its last "members-only" event and closed the door on what some have described as "the party that lasted 68 years." The Chicago Park District now owns this once exclusive property. It has been restored to its original design and is now open to the public as the South Shore Cultural Center.

An urban neighborhood remakes itself every day—and unmakes itself, too. Houses and stores and streets define it in one way. But it’s also people—the people who make it their home, some eagerly, others grudgingly. A neighborhood can thrive or it can decline, and neighbors move in and move out. Sometimes they stay but withdraw behind fences and burglar alarms. If a neighborhood becomes no longer a place of sociability and street life, but of privacy indoors and fearful distrust outdoors, is it still a neighborhood? In the late 1960s and 1970s Carlo Rotella grew up in Chicago’s South Shore neighborhood—a place of neat bungalow blocks and desolate commercial strips, and sharp, sometimes painful social contrasts. In the decades since, the hollowing out of the middle class has left residents confronting—or avoiding—each other across an expanding gap that makes it ever harder for them to recognize each other as neighbors. Rotella tells the stories that reveal how that happened—stories of deindustrialization and street life; stories of gorgeous apartments with vistas onto Lake Michigan and of Section 8 housing vouchers held by the poor. At every turn, South Shore is a study in contrasts, shaped and reshaped over the past half-century by individual stories and larger waves of change that make it an exemplar of many American urban neighborhoods. Talking with current and former residents and looking carefully at the interactions of race and class, persistence and change, Rotella explores the tension between residents’ deep investment of feeling and resources in the physical landscape of South Shore and their hesitation to make a similar commitment to the community of neighbors living there. Blending journalism, memoir, and archival research, The World Is Always Coming to an End uses the story of one American neighborhood to challenge our assumptions about what neighborhoods are, and to think anew about what they might be if we can bridge gaps and commit anew to the people who share them with us. Tomorrow is another ending.

A New York Times Book Review Notable Book of 2020 “A comically dark coming-of-age story about growing up on the South Side of Chicago, but it’s also social commentary at its finest, woven seamlessly into the work . . . Bump’s meditation on belonging and not belonging, where or with whom, how love is a way home no matter where you are, is handled so beautifully that you don’t know he’s hypnotized you until he’s done.” —Tommy Orange, The New York Times Book Review In this alternately witty and heartbreaking debut novel, Gabriel Bump gives us an unforgettable protagonist, Claude McKay Love. Claude isn’t dangerous or brilliant—he’s an average kid coping with abandonment, violence, riots, failed love, and societal pressures as he steers his way past the signposts of youth: childhood friendships, basketball tryouts, first love, first heartbreak, picking a college, moving away from home. Claude just wants a place where he can fit. As a young black man born on the South Side of Chicago, he is raised by his civil rights–era grandmother, who tries to shape him into a principled actor for change; yet when riots consume his neighborhood, he hesitates to take sides, unwilling to let race define his life. He decides to escape Chicago for another place, to go to college, to find a new identity, to leave the pressure cooker of his hometown behind. But as he discovers, he cannot; there is no safe haven for a young black man in this time and place called America. Percolating with fierceness and originality, attuned to the ironies inherent in our twenty-first-century landscape, Everywhere You Don’t Belong marks the arrival of a brilliant young talent.

A comprehensive historical reference on metropolitan Chicago encompasses more than 1,400 entries on such topics as neighborhoods, ethnic groups, cultural institutions, and business history, and furnishes interpretive essays on the literary images of Chicago, the built environment, and the city's sports culture.

Chicago's South Shore Line is a photographic essay of the last interurban electric railroad operating in the United States. Completed as the Chicago, Lake Shore & South Bend Railway (CLS&SBR) connecting South Bend, Indiana, with Pullman, Illinois, in 1909, the line went into receivership in 1925. It reorganized as the Chicago South Shore & South Bend Railroad (CSS&SBR) which rebuilt the railroad and provided direct passenger service from South Bend to downtown Chicago. The Great Depression forced the railroad into bankruptcy in 1933 but reorganized in 1938 and handled record ridership during World War II. After the Chesapeake & Ohio Railroad acquired the railroad in 1970, the electric freight service was dieselized. Soaring passenger deficits resulted in the formation of the Northern Indiana Commuter Transportation District (NICDT). Beginning in 1984, the Venango River Corporation operated the line until it went bankrupt in 1988. The Anacostia & Pacific Company began operating the freight service in 1990, and NICDT handles passenger service. Chicago's South Shore Line documents the history of this railway that has survived obstacles to maintain passenger service over its original route.

Starting in 1901 as a three-mile-long trolley line in East Chicago, Indiana, the Chicago South Shore and South Bend Railroad expanded in 1908 to connect South Bend, Indiana, with Chicago, Illinois. Once a treasure in the Sam Insull utilities empire, today it is the only functioning electric interurban in the United States. From a world-class city through rolling agricultural acres, from steel mills through a national lakeshore, some 200 vintage photographs illustrate the unique view of the Calumet region that South Shore passengers have traditionally enjoyed. Images of rolling stock, passenger depots, excursion destinations, and historic sites along the way combine to reveal the century-long story of the railroad and its 90-mile corridor.