Visite audio de Highland Park : Échos d'un héritage dans les rues historiques

Look just ahead for a stately two-story yellow brick house with tall, narrow windows and a little balcony on the roof-the Jean Butz James Museum sits right on the corner, easy to spot with its old-fashioned charm. Picture it: it’s 1871, and Highland Park is barely a toddler of a town. The city is so new that folks are betting big on the future-so big, in fact, that this house was built before anyone even knew who would live here! The Highland Park Building Company must have thought, “If we build it, the Chicagoans will come.” So they crafted this Italianate house with bracketed eaves and, my favorite part, a widow’s walk on top, perfect for dramatic sighing into the wind-or spying on your neighbors, if we’re honest. For almost a century, this house watched Highland Park grow, until, in 1969, the Highland Park Historical Society swooped in and saved it. Three years later, it opened as a museum, letting visitors poke around and learn surprises from local history. It even made it to the National Register of Historic Places in 1982! The museum closed in 2015, but the building still stands-a proud guardian of the town’s early days. Imagine standing here with hopeful new residents bustling by, dreaming of their own future stories.

Look to the left side of Laurel Avenue for a large, light blue-grey house with steep pointed gables, bright white trim, a three-bay window, and a welcoming open porch surrounded by leafy trees. Step closer to the mysterious C. S. Soule House-if these walls could talk, I bet they’d quote sermons! Shrouded in a little bit of mystery, no one quite knows who built it or the exact year it rose up, but folks agree the house has stood here since around 1880. Just imagine the bustle back then: the clip-clop of horses in the lane, the chatter of Highland Hall students drifting from the nearby women’s school, and the laughter from picnics out on the grassy lawn. Its very first known resident was C. S. Soule himself-a man of many hats, serving both as the local Presbyterian Church pastor and as a professor. Picture him, maybe pacing that very porch, preparing a fiery sermon or wrangling with a difficult lesson plan. This isn’t just any house, though; it’s a fine example of Gothic Revival, with its dramatic gables, beautiful three-bay window, and porch perfect for people-watching or, if you’re Soule, maybe baking pies for students! Back in the day, there was even a barn out behind-though, sadly, that’s gone now and a garage has taken its place. Since 1982, it has officially been a national treasure, making every creak and shadow part of Highland Park’s living history. Now, who says houses can’t have a little intrigue in their beams and boards?

Right ahead, you’ll spot a grand, classic house with weathered brown shingles, a broad porch, and a chunky white garage-just keep your eyes on the homes nestled between the tall, bare trees lining the avenue. Welcome to the Hazel Avenue/Prospect Avenue Historic District-step back in time to when Highland Park was the place to escape the noisy city and catch some serious “resort vibes.” Imagine, it’s the early 1900s, and well-dressed families arrive by horse and carriage, laughter drifting through the air as vacationers unpack their trunks for a summer of lakeside fun. Some of Highland Park’s most famous folks called these streets home-like Elisha Gray, the telephone inventor who almost beat Alexander Graham Bell to the punch. Picture Gray in a little cottage at 333 Hazel Avenue, wires everywhere, making history while probably grumbling about dropped calls even before they were a thing. This district isn’t just about cottages; it’s sprinkled with dream homes by renowned architects. At 289 Prospect, you’ll find a Colonial Revival masterpiece by Howard Van Doren Shaw, whose name sounds almost as impressive as his blueprints. There’s drama here too-homes at 178, 203, and 215 Prospect might be Shaw’s designs, but nobody can quite agree. The Wildwood complex, a set of four summer houses nearby, all shared a single dining room-imagine sibling squabbles over pancakes echoing out the windows. Not far away, famous author Edith Neisser once raised children (and eyebrows) at 239 Hazel, while Henry Lytton, the department store tycoon, enjoyed southern-style living at 276 Hazel. The gardens? Designed by Jens Jensen, they were good enough to inspire their own little cabin-eventually scooped up and moved to the Heller Nature Center. Wander further and you’ll find Highland Park’s City Hall, the public library, a lone church built in 1941, and even a log cabin dating back to 1847-home to Franz Stuppi and now part museum. Every creak of these old floors, every rustle of leaves, tells a story-making this district one of Highland Park’s true treasures.

Right in front of you, you’ll spot a sturdy, two-story house built from layer upon layer of tan limestone, its wide eaves and strong lines making it stand out among the leafy trees-just look for the home with strikingly stacked stone walls at 1635 Linden Avenue. Now, picture yourself in 1921, when Highland Park was full of curious energy and a new house was rising on this spot-a structure so unlike its neighbors that people walking by would pause mid-step, probably tripping over their shoelaces while staring. The architect, John S. Van Bergen, had a bit of a “Prairie School” crush, having learned the tricks of the trade from the legendary Frank Lloyd Wright himself, and he was about to make a statement-this was, after all, his debut Prairie-style creation in Highland Park! But what truly made folks whisper was his bold use of stratified limestone on the exterior, like he was daring nature itself to keep up with his designs. This house was the first of many Prairie masterpieces he’d build here, but it’s also a bit of a celebrity, landing on the National Register of Historic Places in 1982. Imagine visiting back then, listening to the hum of fresh ideas, as the Lanzl House turned heads and raised eyebrows-definitely a showstopper on an ordinary block!

To spot the Ross J. Beatty House, look across the lawn through the thick trees, and you’ll catch a glimpse of a brick mansion partly hidden by greenery and accented by a statue near the entrance. Alright, you’ve found it-the legendary Ross J. Beatty House, once fittingly called Halcyon Hall, sitting here on Ravine Drive like it's hiding from the modern world behind all these leafy branches. Picture yourself in 1909: steel magnate Ross J. Beatty wanted a home fit for a king, so he built this Tudor Revival mansion with its grand brick walls, stone carvings, half-timbered details, and a roof that twists and turns with dormers and old chimneys. The original property had a carriage house, greenhouse, and a gazebo-imagine the parties! Back then, this lot was enormous, but over time, it was sliced up and other houses popped up, shrinking Beatty’s giant playground. While this once-grand estate may look a bit different now thanks to modern updates-and no, you won’t bump into any steel barons or carriage horses today-it’s still famous, earning a spot on the National Register of Historic Places back in 1982. If Beatty’s other home was fancy, this was double the drama. Sometimes growing old just means getting more stories!

Look for a stunning two-story house with a pale stucco exterior and strong wooden trim set among the trees on a corner lot, its low, wide rooflines and bands of windows just peeking through the green. As you stand here, imagine it’s 1905 and Highland Park is swelling with hope and fresh ideas-just like the remarkable Mary W. Adams, who, at 70 years old, decided to do something wonderfully daring: she hired the young, already-famous Frank Lloyd Wright to design her home. Now, Mrs. Adams wasn’t just any client. She was Wright’s oldest, a teacher and a follower of Christian Science, which means she liked inspiring new things-kind of like inventing avocado toast before it was cool! At first, Wright proposed a design with grand porches, but-just like when you see your restaurant bill after ordering appetizers-Mary said, “Ouch, too expensive!” So Wright revised his plans, chopping off the south porch and serving up those wide-open views your eyes enjoy today. Right now, notice the dramatic diagonal buttresses flaring from the corners-they look strong but are just showing off, not actually holding anything up. Step closer and you’d discover cypress wood lining the outside, while the floors inside are southern yellow pine and white oak. Mrs. Adams even had a clever call system, so if she wanted tea on the porch, all she had to do was push a button anywhere in the house. Sadly, Mary only enjoyed her masterpiece for three years before passing away, but her innovative spirit lives on. The house went through some tough times-a short sale, a need for big restorations, a touch of architectural melodrama. Thankfully, new owners swooped in around 2010, restoring everything-even the little storage building out back-using Wright’s original blueprints. Your footsteps now echo history, right where fresh ideas and heritage meet.

To spot the Granville-Mott House, look straight ahead at the large two-story home with a steep gabled roof and distinctive dark wooden beams set against creamy walls, framed by shady trees and a curving driveway. Standing outside the Granville-Mott House, you can almost feel the pride of 1910 Highland Park residents as they gazed at this grand creation by Tallmadge & Watson-the biggest project the famous Chicago firm ever built in town. The house mixes two styles, showing off its Tudor Revival roots with a dramatic gabled roof and crisscrossing half-timbered patterns that look like chocolate drizzled on vanilla cake, while the broad overhanging eaves and slender casement windows seem to wink at you with a Midwestern Prairie School charm. Imagine fancy parties in the early 1900s, the laughter echoing through the rooms as electric light bulbs-then the coolest new things-shone through the decorated glass. Not many houses can brag about their place on the National Register of Historic Places, but this one secured its spot in 1982. So if the squirrels here seem a tad more dignified, it’s probably because they’re living on historic land-where Gothic daydreams and Illinois innovation come together under one impressive roof!