3 ACRES

LOG

The first person to sign up to use DuSable Park after it was designated as a public-park-for-private-use chose to winter camp. A hardy individual used to, and pleasured by, sleeping outdoors but unable to find a place in the city of Chicago to set up camp where she wouldn't be bothered by property owners or police, this person (all names remain anonymous, according to the original arrangements for the site) set up her tent nestled in the cottonwoods on the northeast corner of the park. In the early morning she brewed her coffee on a portable gas stove near the crest of the hill, where she could watch the sun rising up over the water, offering a thin light if not warmth to her sipping - then went off to work, assured that her tent and her few belongings would remain safe until she returned.

Because the park's special and unprecedented designation is deliberately not publicized, a little while - three months - lapsed before the next person - curious enough to inquire - learned about its unusual arrangement and signed up to use it. By then, the first person had already moved on, having had her fill of camping, and anyway, spring arrived. The second person chose to hold a surprise birthday party for a friend. He invited approximately twenty or thirty folk to gather at the park one April evening at dusk, and when he drove up with his friend in the car, the match was lit and a huge bonfire and some illicit fireworks from Indiana greeted them, warming faces and hands and melting the crusty snow that still hung on in patches.

The next person - an amateur botanist/scientist - had fooled around with genetic engineering in his kitchen laboratory in Englewood, and chose to seed the park with a newly invented version of grass. Over the summer, this grass grew to a height surprising even to the amateur scientist, who was not aware of the soil's contamination with radioactive thorium, or of thorium's potential to exaggerate certain growth processes, similar to what happened at the Bikini atoll with bomb fallout causing gigantic sponge growths. At the end of the season the grass - which grew almost as high as the top level of Lake Shore Drive, but not quite high enough to be noticed - was mowed, and baled. Although precautions were taken to collect as much of the seed as possible (the only requirement of using the land is to return it after use to the same state it was in when you got it), some seed did spill and occasional infestations of the tall grass slightly diluted by cross-breeding with other prairie grasses growing there have since occurred.

Next, a group of American Indians descended from the Potowatamis that had first occupied the area that became Chicago, and that had lived peaceably with J.B. Pointe DuSable, used the park to hold a pow-wow. Like the birthday party this was a celebratory event, but this one lasted several days, not just one evening, with cycles of dancing and drumming and even a temporary sweat lodge put together in the deep cleft between the double mounds of hill. Surprisingly, all the noise was drowned out and absorbed due to the park's location underneath and beyond the highway, and near the water. That group hoped to make the pow-wow a regular seasonal event, but some of the Indians felt that something unsettled about the park had subtly interfered with their celebration and this faction preferred to perform a ritual cleansing of the park before holding any more pow-wows.

Next, an unidentified group of space hackers turned the park into a temporarily unmappable, unlocatable zone through interference technologies that scrambled infrared surveillance imagery, satellite communications, video signals, and traditional perceptual apparatuses. The park existed in this state of invisibility for quite a long period, allowing various activities and events to take place there of which we will continue to remain unaware.

The next user felt that Chicago lacked sufficient places in which to practice semi-public sexual acts, places such as Buena Vista Park in San Francisco, or parts of Central and Riverside Parks in NYC. He actually held temporary "title" to the park (for lack of a better word to describe the park's set-up, in which you get to do whatever you want for an agreed-upon period of time) for a whole year and then some, as it took a little while to get the word out and for those who might be interested in public sex to appreciate the park's particular qualities - both exposed (to the wind, to the lake, and under the eyes of condo towers) but not easily accessible, requiring a certain commitment, a relatively long walk, and the possible discomfort of scratchy grasses and/or ragweed in the nose.

Following that, hip-hop activists held a series of free parties, music fueled by a portable generator and once again the sound was absorbed by the environment and the events hardly noticed, except of course by those privileged enough to attend some of the best parties that ever rocked Chicago.

Because it takes a curious mind to do the rather elaborate investigations necessary to discover the for-rent-without-money status of the park (a precaution to guard against over-use), several scientists have signed up to use it. Besides the amateur genetic engineer, a wind engineer tested two energy-producing windmills on the site, hoping to catch the lake effect winds from the two crests of the double mound. In the spirit of the park's designation for rotational use, this was of course a temporary installation, furthering the engineer's research but not a continuing source of power, in spite of its great potential.

After the windmills, another science-oriented project came along, this one in response to the news about monarch butterflies possibly being endangered by side-effects of bioengineered corn. The project to create a breeding ground for monarchs continued through last summer. It was particularly hard for this park user to figure out the ethics of preparing the park for the next user once her turn was up (since she was successful at getting the butterflies to breed there, and she didnÕt want to push them out).

The next user wanted to build a "temporary" parking lot - but since commercial use of the land is strictly forbidden (you can't do anything there that involves any exchange of money) that project was of course denied. Instead, the park's next (and current) use was proposed by a coalition of people concerned about the historic and ongoing economic disparities within the Near North Side and in particular the recent and continuing loss of public housing in Cabrini Green (on the western edge of the Near North Side census tract). This group is working with a few dedicated architects to design and construct high-quality, temporary housing for those displaced, a construction that will be elevated and thoroughly protected from any potential danger from the alleged thorium contamination by a barrier shield. This project has an open-ended time frame; once the housing is up, which will be soon, it will exist on the park until adequate high-quality replacement housing has been constructed by the city.

While no one knows how long it will be until replacement housing is constructed, and therefore how long the temporary housing will remain on the park, another project has been lined up to follow this eventuality. This user has plans to conduct experiments in shortening the 14 billion year half-life of thorium and thereby reducing the duration of the (alleged) contamination, towards the eventual establishment of a terraced, wine-producing vineyard on the double mound.

Louise Lamb
South Bend, IN

Louise Lamb

LOG The first person to sign up to use DuSable Park after it was designated as a public-park-for-private-use chose to winter camp. A hardy individual used to, and pleasured by, sleeping outdoors but unable to find a place in the city of Chicago to set up camp where she wouldn't be bothered by property owners or police, this person (all names remain anonymous, according to the original arrangements for the site) set up her tent nestled in the cottonwoods on the northeast corner of the park. In the early morning she brewed her coffee on a portable gas stove near the crest of the hill, where she could watch the sun rising up over the water, offering a thin light if not warmth to her sipping - then went off to work, assured that her tent and her few belongings would remain safe until she returned. Because the park's special and unprecedented designation is deliberately not publicized, a little while - three months - lapsed before the next person - curious enough to inquire - learned about its unusual arrangement and signed up to use it. By then, the first person had already moved on, having had her fill of camping, and anyway, spring arrived. The second person chose to hold a surprise birthday party for a friend. He invited approximately twenty or thirty folk to gather at the park one April evening at dusk, and when he drove up with his friend in the car, the match was lit and a huge bonfire and some illicit fireworks from Indiana greeted them, warming faces and hands and melting the crusty snow that still hung on in patches. The next person - an amateur botanist/scientist - had fooled around with genetic engineering in his kitchen laboratory in Englewood, and chose to seed the park with a newly invented version of grass. Over the summer, this grass grew to a height surprising even to the amateur scientist, who was not aware of the soil's contamination with radioactive thorium, or of thorium's potential to exaggerate certain growth processes, similar to what happened at the Bikini atoll with bomb fallout causing gigantic sponge growths. At the end of the season the grass - which grew almost as high as the top level of Lake Shore Drive, but not quite high enough to be noticed - was mowed, and baled. Although precautions were taken to collect as much of the seed as possible (the only requirement of using the land is to return it after use to the same state it was in when you got it), some seed did spill and occasional infestations of the tall grass slightly diluted by cross-breeding with other prairie grasses growing there have since occurred. Next, a group of American Indians descended from the Potowatamis that had first occupied the area that became Chicago, and that had lived peaceably with J.B. Pointe DuSable, used the park to hold a pow-wow. Like the birthday party this was a celebratory event, but this one lasted several days, not just one evening, with cycles of dancing and drumming and even a temporary sweat lodge put together in the deep cleft between the double mounds of hill. Surprisingly, all the noise was drowned out and absorbed due to the park's location underneath and beyond the highway, and near the water. That group hoped to make the pow-wow a regular seasonal event, but some of the Indians felt that something unsettled about the park had subtly interfered with their celebration and this faction preferred to perform a ritual cleansing of the park before holding any more pow-wows. Next, an unidentified group of space hackers turned the park into a temporarily unmappable, unlocatable zone through interference technologies that scrambled infrared surveillance imagery, satellite communications, video signals, and traditional perceptual apparatuses. The park existed in this state of invisibility for quite a long period, allowing various activities and events to take place there of which we will continue to remain unaware. The next user felt that Chicago lacked sufficient places in which to practice semi-public sexual acts, places such as Buena Vista Park in San Francisco, or parts of Central and Riverside Parks in NYC. He actually held temporary "title" to the park (for lack of a better word to describe the park's set-up, in which you get to do whatever you want for an agreed-upon period of time) for a whole year and then some, as it took a little while to get the word out and for those who might be interested in public sex to appreciate the park's particular qualities - both exposed (to the wind, to the lake, and under the eyes of condo towers) but not easily accessible, requiring a certain commitment, a relatively long walk, and the possible discomfort of scratchy grasses and/or ragweed in the nose. Following that, hip-hop activists held a series of free parties, music fueled by a portable generator and once again the sound was absorbed by the environment and the events hardly noticed, except of course by those privileged enough to attend some of the best parties that ever rocked Chicago. Because it takes a curious mind to do the rather elaborate investigations necessary to discover the for-rent-without-money status of the park (a precaution to guard against over-use), several scientists have signed up to use it. Besides the amateur genetic engineer, a wind engineer tested two energy-producing windmills on the site, hoping to catch the lake effect winds from the two crests of the double mound. In the spirit of the park's designation for rotational use, this was of course a temporary installation, furthering the engineer's research but not a continuing source of power, in spite of its great potential. After the windmills, another science-oriented project came along, this one in response to the news about monarch butterflies possibly being endangered by side-effects of bioengineered corn. The project to create a breeding ground for monarchs continued through last summer. It was particularly hard for this park user to figure out the ethics of preparing the park for the next user once her turn was up (since she was successful at getting the butterflies to breed there, and she didnÕt want to push them out). The next user wanted to build a "temporary" parking lot - but since commercial use of the land is strictly forbidden (you can't do anything there that involves any exchange of money) that project was of course denied. Instead, the park's next (and current) use was proposed by a coalition of people concerned about the historic and ongoing economic disparities within the Near North Side and in particular the recent and continuing loss of public housing in Cabrini Green (on the western edge of the Near North Side census tract). This group is working with a few dedicated architects to design and construct high-quality, temporary housing for those displaced, a construction that will be elevated and thoroughly protected from any potential danger from the alleged thorium contamination by a barrier shield. This project has an open-ended time frame; once the housing is up, which will be soon, it will exist on the park until adequate high-quality replacement housing has been constructed by the city. While no one knows how long it will be until replacement housing is constructed, and therefore how long the temporary housing will remain on the park, another project has been lined up to follow this eventuality. This user has plans to conduct experiments in shortening the 14 billion year half-life of thorium and thereby reducing the duration of the (alleged) contamination, towards the eventual establishment of a terraced, wine-producing vineyard on the double mound. Louise Lamb South Bend, IN

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