As I was writing this story, word came in that the City Council had caved, voting to give Mayor Emanuel what he wanted—in the most recent case, an infrastructure trust fund that has the potential to be an even greater burden on taxpayers than the parking meter deal. Speaking of aldermen yielding to the whim of a powerful mayor.
One of the beautiful things about Lavicka is that he never subscribed to this view even though he—as much as anyone, and more than most—actually did put his livelihood on the line by fighting powerful mayors.
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Lavicka was a restorationist—a master at the craft—who rehabbed old buildings. As you can imagine, his trade required building permits from the city. Yet when he wasn’t restoring old buildings, he was fighting like hell to save them. The man loved old buildings almost as passionately as he despised the arrogance of people in power—who, despite our city’s great architectural heritage, treat old buildings like weeds that have to be plowed to cultivate the field.
When I asked how he got away with the barbs, he’d shrug, as if to say, maybe they don’t think I’m worth the trouble.
In 1987, he converted a vacant lot at 815 S. Oakley into a lovely memorial garden to Vietnam vets. Not surprisingly, he had to fight like hell with the state to get the land.
I was always surprised Daley didn’t have him arrested. Instead, the mayor would typically push aside his police guards—the “coppers,” as Lavicka called them—and give Lavicka a few minutes of his time.
Classic Lavicka. Standing up for what he believed until the end.
