Waldheim blog.

Yesterday, along the obscure back streets of Chicago, I noted a site of international importance — the site of the Haymarket Riot, a landmark in labor history and, if nothing else, the genesis of May Day as a labor holiday (and I’ve always thought it should be a holiday in the United States, too; mainly because, on general principles, there should be more holidays).

Some years ago I read a “Chicago Reader” piece about the long-running quarrel over what sort of monument to put there. I don’t have time to look for the original article, even if it is on line, but the gist was this: there used to be a statue of a policeman there, erected in the years immediately following the incident. Ostensibly to honor the dead policemen, it was also clearly an insult to the protestors. Over the years, it was vandalized so often that the City finally moved it — to police headquarters, if I remember correctly. The empty pedestal apparently stood there for many more years until it too was removed. Now only the forlorn plaque I described yesterday marks the spot.

Not that it’s completely unknown. Early last May, I walked by the site and noticed that someone had formed, out of rocks and on top of the plaque, the international (so to speak) symbol of anarchism, an encircled “A” with the bar of the “A” extended to touch the edges of the circle. Presumably on the occasion of May Day.

The Haymarket strikers do have a monument, just not on City of Chicago property. It’s at the Waldheim (Forest Home) Cemetery in west suburban Forest Park. Waldheim was founded by German Masonic lodges in the 1870s, so it’s no surprise that a labor monument would have found a home there.

According to “Graveyards of Chicago,” the “Haymarket Martyrs' Monument was erected in 1893… It features a granite shaft and two bronze figures — a woman as Justice placing a crown of laurels on the brow of a fallen worker, while preparing to draw a sword. Sculptor Albert Weinert designed this monument based on a verse from the ‘Marseillaise,’ which [the men] had sung before their hangings.

“On the front of the monument are the last words of August Spies [who was hanged]: ‘The day will come.…’

“The monument was dedicated June 25, 1893. Thousands of workers and visitors to the World's Columbian Exposition marched to the downtown train station and then rode to the cemetery. Floral tributes had been sent by several nations, and red bunting decorated the monument and speakers' platform. Speeches were made in English, German, Polish and Bohemian, and an orchestra played the ‘Marseillaise.’ ”

I went to see Waldheim Cemetery early last September, on a warm day when I unexpectedly had a few hours free. Besides some lawn maintenance men, I had the place practically to myself. It was all you would expect in a cemetery dating from the 19th century, plenty of ornate old headstones set in lush grass, surounded by big trees, and featuring inscriptions ranging from the laconic to the poetic. Many were in German: VATTER and MUTTER were popular on family stones. The Haymarket Martyrs' Monument is near the entrance, and so was easy to find. That day there were fresh flowers at its base and costume jewelry around the neck of Justice and the fallen worker.

The cemetery had other interesting spots, only some of which I could find, considering the maddeningly vague guide pamphlet. I saw the mound that was a burial site for Pottawatomie Indians before the 1830s, which was one of the reasons this area later became a cemetery. I also happened on the large headstone of Samuel Fallows, who was a bishop of the Reformed Episcopal Church — a breakaway group from the Anglican Communion — and a lesser-known brigadier general in the Union Army. But I couldn’t find several better-known people, such as Emma Goldman or Billy Sunday. Some other time, perhaps.