May 27, 1933
"A Century of Progress"
Science and show biz come together to revive a city worn weary by Depression.
The fairgrounds of Chicago's second World's Fair, "A Century of Progress," shown here in 1933, stretched along the lakefront from the Adler Planetarium to 37th Street. In the left foreground is the Travel and Transport building, which featured a roof that "breathed." (Tribune archive photo)
Arcturus had been chosen because its light takes about 40 years to reach the Earth and 40 years had passed since the Columbian Exposition. Harnessing the energy of a star to switch on the fair's lights was meant to symbolize the exhibition's theme of scientific progress, but the stunt also had that dash of show biz that made the fair a wildly popular attraction for a city frayed and fractured by the Depression.It had been 100 years since a muddy patch of wild onion on the banks of the Chicago River had been incorporated. A Century of Progress was meant to show what that city had made of itself. Or, as the Tribune put it, "A community which, 100 years ago, numbered but 250 Yankees, Indians and halfbreeds . . . today is a world metropolis with a population of 3 1/2 millions drawn from the wide, wide world."
The exhibition's gleaming Art Deco buildings, made of such inexpensive materials as sheet metal and prestressed concrete, were constructed on new land that had been created by filling in Lake Michigan. For 50 cents admission, fairgoers could wander among 82 miles of exhibitions that ranged from the highbrow--the chemistry of sulfur in the Hall of Science--to the decidedly lowbrow--trained fleas on the Midway.
For the brave of heart, a sky ride stretched between spidery towers, one on the mainland and one on Northerly Island. In a Buck Rogers vision of what future travel might be like, streamlined cars shot back and forth along steel cables 200 feet above the fairgrounds.
Throughout the fair, the emphasis was on the modern and futuristic. Along the Midway was traditional carnival fare, such as Jo-Jo the dog-faced boy. It was also the scene of an instant fair sensation, fan dancer Sally Rand, who appeared nightly in nothing but strategically placed feathers. Rand, who noted that she had not been out of work since taking her clothes off, was hauled into court, but Judge Joseph B. David refused to issue an injunction against her. "Lots of people in this community would like to put pants on horses," he said.
Still, the judge did not have much use for Rand's audience either. "If you ask me they are just a lot of boobs come to see a woman wiggle with a fan or without fig leaves. But we have the boobs and we have a right to cater to them."
Judged a resounding success in 1933, the fair reopened for a second year. In its two seasons, it drew 38,867,000 visitors and turned a profit, a remarkable feat for any World's Fair.
When the gates closed for the last time, the buildings came down, and the Depression was still on. But while it lasted, A Century of Progress was a much-needed diversion and a shining symbol of what the future might be.