At one time, it boasted a bank, a movie theater, rental apartments and a bowling alley with a cocktail lounge complete with a band that did a respectable rendition of Roy Orbison’s “Oh, Pretty Woman.”
R-r-r-r-r-r-rowww!
Ford City Mall was something to roar about back in the day, indeed a tiny city of sorts dedicated to our love of buying stuff.
Like all shopping malls, it had plenty of A-list retailers over the years — most notably Wieboldt’s, JCPenney, Chas A. Stevens, Carson’s and Sears.
But it was the smaller shops that made it, offering everything from hymn books to hash pipes.
Candle shops, record stores, a place that just sold leather jackets and coats, a magic shop, a Christian bookstore and an underground clothing store fittingly called “The Nickel Bag.”
But now more than 60 years after it first opened, Ford City is scheduled to close by June 22. High noon, no less.
Yes, times change. It’s far from the first shopping center to fall victim to Amazon and other changes in how Americans shop. And the once-proud mall is a shadow of its former self, reduced to a few dozen retailers and worries over vehicle takeovers in the parking lots, flooding and sinkholes.
But back in the day, Ford City was so much more than just a shopping center — at least to a kid growing up on the Southwest Side.
My Dad, a die-hard bargain hunter, took us to the grand opening in the mid-1960s. I don’t remember much about that evening, other than the buzz of the crowds huddled around a stage set up in the mall. But memories flow from the following years, when Ford City touched so many aspects of our everyday lives. It was there that we learned about strikes, spares and gutter balls — especially gutter balls. The bowling alley was home of the famed “Red Pin.” If you got a strike when it was in the lead spot, the entire game was free. It almost made up for having to wear those smelly loaner bowling shoes. And a few years later, we learned other skills at the bowling alley bar. All decked out in our polyester “silk” disco shirts and bell-bottomed jeans, we learned how to pretend like we knew how to dance.
Mercy!
Can’t say I was ever inside the Ford City Bank or the nearby Ford City Apartments, seemingly designed to ensure shoppers never felt the need to leave the little city of Ford.
But we certainly did frequent its movie theaters, originally located just off Cicero Avenue. They had two screens at first, Cinema I and Cinema II. It was the first time we’d ever heard the word “cinema,” making us feel sophisticated as we watched the original “Star Wars” trilogy, “National Lampoon’s Animal House,” Clint Eastwood Westerns and James Bond thrillers with the 007, Sean Connery.
Hungry for more than buttered popcorn and Raisinets? Long before food courts became mall fixtures, Ford City had a huge four-sided lunch counter plunked right in the middle of the mall. Think Francheezies, Patty Melts and slices of apple pie under a heating lamp.
Interested in something just a tad more upscale? A few years later, “John’s Garage,” opened at the mall, providing good burgers, pasta and other casual fare. Vintage gas pumps served as a decorative motif. It also offered a 1970s singles bar vibe at the raised cocktail lounge in the center of the dining room.
And if that wasn’t hip enough for you, there was always Peacock Alley, a subterranean tunnel of offbeat offerings that stretched underneath the indoor mall and a chunk of the parking lot.
It was seemingly inspired by Piper’s Alley, the 1960s counterculture shopping and entertainment district up north in Old Town. But rather than the coffee houses, head shops and black light poster galleries of North Wells Street, Ford City’s version was a bit tamer. Rolling papers, bongs and the like were sold at a few of the shops, including “The Nickel Bag,” as I remember. But that and the “Tricks and Toys” magic shop with its “Adults Only” corner of lewd party gags was about as wild as it got.
But it was cool enough for us. Peacock Alley’s arcade leaned more toward pinball, video games and pizza, but it was quite the hot spot. And virtually every young person in the neighborhood had a pair of jeans or a denim jacket they’d bought at “Just Pants.”
Had to look good for the crowd at the bowling alley or John’s Garage.
But sadly, a half-century later, the wrecking ball is swinging toward 76th and Cicero.
No question the internet has revolutionized shopping.
No more sifting through the racks at “Music and Books,” searching for that elusive early Pink Floyd or Hot Tuna album. No more relying on one of the young ladies at the perfume shop to help you find that perfect Valentine’s Day gift.
Now we can get nearly anything we want delivered to our doorsteps with virtually no wait — or human contact in most instances.
We’ve gained a lot, but lost quite a bit as well.
Anyone know where I can pick up a pair of Levi’s, squeeze in a few frames of bowling and grab a quick Francheezie?
Scott Fornek is a former Sun-Times staffer who most recently worked as an assistant breaking news editor. He also previously served as the newspaper’s politics editor and covered politics as a reporter.