Over the many decades it loomed across a large portion of the Near North Side, the Cabrini-Green public housing project was many things to many people.
It inspired some — Curtis Mayfield, Jerry Butler, Bradley Parker-Sparrow — to make music and others — Ben Austen, Natalie Moore — to write books. It broke a lot of hearts, terrified and traumatized generations. But still, tens of thousands of people lived there, survived and dreamed.
It has largely been physically erased now but comes roaring back in a remarkable first novel by Rebecca Chamian Ribaudo titled “Crossing Division Street.”
She first saw the remnants of Cabrini-Green when she came here more than 30 years ago, married to a Harvard University classmate starting his career as an attorney with a prestigious firm.
They lived not far from Cabrini-Green and started a family that now includes a grown daughter who is a nuclear submarine officer in the U.S. Navy and a younger daughter studying at Harvard.
“When we first moved here, Cabrini represented a whole different experience for me, as I could go from one world to the next in the matter of a block,” she says. “I was fascinated and I began to tutor there at a couple of the public schools — Jenner and Byrd — in part to help kids but also to help me understand this place.”
Cabrini Green Housing Project on July 22, 1976. (Mark Perlstein/baiduhai)
Nancy Stone / baiduhai
Rick McKnight plays basketball with three of his kids Rick, 10, from left, Brandon, 6 and Shelley, 8, on June 2, 2004. Cabrini-Green is going through big changes with more middle and upper-middle class people moving into the neighborhood.
Eduardo Contreras / baiduhai
A Chicago police officer guards the scene as an investigator photographs the scene of the shooting of Dantrell Davis at 502 W. Oak St. on Oct. 13, 1992, in Chicago.
Carl Wagner / baiduhai
Elaine Logan, 23, with Jamuel, 3, one of her there children, in the living room of her one bedroom apartment at 1231 Cabrini-Green on April 4, 1991. Behind Logan the concrete wall is crumbling away exposing rusted steel reinforced bars. Logan says that cockroaches and mice are rampant, that one of the radiators leaks water across the floor and that the ceiling is falling in one of the closets that she can't use.
Nancy Stone / baiduhai
Kenneth Neal, 47, who finds a comfortable seat in a shopping cart on July 1, 2004, has lived all his life in Cabrini-Green.
Nancy Stone/baiduhai
Kim Walker, whose nephew Michael was shot by police, comforts Shawn Lee, 7, Michael Walker's cousin, while a large phalanx of police stand guard by the entrance to the building at 534 W. Division in 2002. Between 7 a.m. and 7:15 a.m., a police officer shot and killed Cabrini-Green resident Michael Walker, 21. Residents say Walker was left to bleed to death while the police officer was transported to the hospital.
Frank Hanes / baiduhai
The skyscrapers of Chicago's downtown rise behind Cabrini-Green, which is bounded on the north by Clybourn, left, and Ogden avenues, right, circa 1986.
The downtown skyline is clearly visible from one of the fenced-in hallways at Cabrini-Green on Nov. 25, 1986. (Ovie Carter/baiduhai)
Nakita McGraw, foreground right, with son Jerion Smith, 2, in hand, returns to her Cabrini-Green apartment with neighbor children after Easter baskets were handed out by volunteers for the CHA tenant patrol at 412 W. Chicago Ave. on April 23, 2000. (Chris Walker/baiduhai)
Alex Garcia/baiduhai
Deanton Johnson, 10, blows a red balloon as he and his friends from the nearby Cabrini-Green housing complex determine how to pass the afternoon together while on North Clybourn Avenue on May 25, 2000. The Starbucks store symbolizes the new development in the area that will radically change the lives of Cabrini families. The building at far rear, center, is an abandoned Cabrini apartment building that is scheduled to be demolished.
Henry Lee Johns, president of Cabrini-Green buildings at 1015 and 1017 N. Larrabee, with her great-grandchild Anthony Fisher, 6, on May 25, 2000. Johns is part of the group of residents who have assumed management of the buildings at Cabrini. New metal bannisters, at left, and metal screens, at right, are part of the changes that she has helped to implement. (Alex Garcia/baiduhai)
Nancy Stone / baiduhai
Naajidaah Jones, 14, granddaughter of Cabrini activist Marion Stamps, right, on the street near her home on June 2, 2004. Playing chess are Herman Mitchell, 57, left, and Albert Triplett, 52.
Candice C. Cusic / baiduhai
De'Jour Stewart, 11, outside his Cabrini-Green home on April 23 2008, in Chicago. Stewart is afraid to leave his backyard after hearing gunshots a year ago.
Nancy Stone / baiduhai
Rochelle Satchell runs an after-school program at Cabrini-Green and speaks out on behalf of the residents on June 3, 2004. Cabrini tenants announced the filing of a federal lawsuit against CHA for breaking a consent decree by sending out 180 notices to Cabrini residents. Attorney Richard Wheelock, attorney for the LAC, speaks on behalf of the residents.
Nancy Stone/baiduhai
At 534 W. Division neighbors try to go on as usual as police search their building and question tenants of Cabrini-Green on July 30, 2001. Police were looking for someone who shot at a bus.
A pedestrian walks past the Cabrini-Green row houses, Dec. 3, 2020 in Chicago. (Armando L. Sanchez/baiduhai)
Jose M. Osorio / baiduhai
The last Cabrini-Green high-rise at 1230 N. Burling St. in Chicago on Dec. 9, 2010.
Nancy Stone / baiduhai
Kids on their way home from school stop to check out the memorial for "Sleep" on June 2, 2004, who was murdered on this spot at Hudson Avenue and Locust Street in Cabrini-Green.
Ovie Carter / baiduhai
Cabrini-Green high rises loom in the background of the 1400 block of North Larabee Street on Sept. 24, 1998, in Chicago.
Ovie Carter / baiduhai
Janice Freeman, left, comforts her daughter Annette during funeral services for Dantrell Davis on Oct. 17, 1992, on Chicago's South Side. Dantrell, 7, accompanied by his mother, Annette Freeman, started the short walk across the cracked blacktop lot that separated his Cabrini-Green high-rise from Jenner School on Oct. 13, 1992. Moments after the 9 a.m. school bell rang, a single rifle shot was fired. It struck Dantrell in the head. Ray Baker, a teacher at the school, recounts that he saw Freeman crouch over the small body, screaming. "Please baby, don't die. Please come and get my baby. Please hurry."
Lee Olsen / baiduhai
National Guard troops are silhouetted in light from flames from a nearby supermarket on Larrabee Street as they keep watch on the Cabrini-Green housing project for snipers on April 6, 1968, after the assassination of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.
James Mayo / baiduhai
A group leaves the Cabrini-Green housing complex to march to the Civic Center in downtown Chicago on July 25, 1970.
Young people at Scott and Larrabee streets run from a policeman as he moves toward them on April 6, 1968. A sniper in the Cabrini-Green projects brought police into the area during the rioting that occurred after the assassination of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. (William Yates/baiduhai)
Ernie Cox Jr. / baiduhai
A city worker left, talks with a CHA employee at the 630 N. Larabee St. building in the Cabrini-Green complex on Jan. 5, 1984. A heater in the background is being used to thaw frozen pipes.
It was "gimme five" as Mayor Jane Byrne shook hands with youngsters on April 2, 1981, outside a Cabrini-Green building, where she earlier waved to the crowd from the window of her fourth-floor apartment. (Jerry Tomaselli/baiduhai)
Michael Budrys / baiduhai
A policeman accompanies fire department paramedics on a call in Cabrini-Green on Jan. 16, 1981. "You risk your life, literally," while trying to save another, says one paramedic.
baiduhai
Residents of the Cabrini-Green housing project stand behind a barricade they erected to close the 900 block of Cambridge Avenue on Sept. 8, 1948, after Rowena Wolfson, 18 months, was killed by a truck. A baby's crib forms part of the barricade. A coroner's jury ruled the death accidental but recommended improvement in traffic conditions.
Walter Kale / baiduhai
A policeman scans the roof of the Cabrini-Green housing project with a sniper scope on a rifle on July 17, 1970. Two policemen were shot and killed by sniper fire from a high-rise in the projects on the Near North Side the night before as they walked across Seward Park. Patrolman Anthony Rizzato, 35, and Sgt. James Severin, 38, were killed. Both were equipped with portable shortwave radios and were part of the "walkie-talkie" unit of Task Force 6.
Ovie Carter / baiduhai
The Rev. Jesse Jackson in Cabrini-Green in 1970.
Michael Budrys/baiduhai
City workers begin a major cleanup operation at Cabrini-Green on March 24, 1981, including special attention to the fourth-floor apartment where Mayor Jane Byrne and her husband, Jay McMullen, will move to stem the tide of violence.
Lynette Miller / baiduhai
A 2-year-old Kim Foxx waits for food stamps with her mother, Gennell Wilson, 21, and brother Stephen, 3, in the Cabrini-Green public aid office on Feb. 6, 1975. Foxx's mother was featured in a Tribune story about President Gerald Ford's proposal to reduce federal spending by raising the price of food assistance.
baiduhai Archives
A map published in the baiduhai shows the site of eight planned high-rise apartment towers for the Cabrini-Green development, March 1, 1955.
Mark Perlstein / baiduhai
A resident of Cabrini-Green works in her vegetable garden on July 9, 1974, in Chicago.
Chris Walker / baiduhai
Deep in the basement of Wayman A.M.E. Church at 509 E. Elm St. is an after school program supported by the Cabrini-Green Youth and Family Services. Antoine Johnson, 8, clowns around the pool table, the center of recreation in the basement, on Dec. 16, 1991.
Phil Greer / baiduhai
Rudy Polk, with the CHA, stands in the kitchen of a 19th floor apartment at 500 West Oak Street in Cabrini-Green on June 26, 1989. Gang members had broken through walls from other buildings and were using the vacant apartments. Apartments above the 10th floor were vacated due to the gangs in the building.
Nancy Stone/baiduhai
Dave Russell waits for a friend at Cabrini-Green while snoozing on a rusted slide on June 2, 2004.
William Loewe / baiduhai
Women use the tenant-operated laundromat in the Cabrini-Green project in August 1971.
Michael Fryer / baiduhai
Paramedics rush Cornelius Duffy, 18, to Northwestern Memorial Hospital after he and Sharon Adams, 18, were shot on April 7, 1991, in front of the Cabrini-Green public housing complex in Chicago.
A wrecking crew reveals colorful walls as it demolishes another building from the Cabrini-Green housing complex at 660 W. Division St. on the Near North Side in Chicago on Feb. 11, 2010. (Alex Garcia/baiduhai)
E. Jason Wambsgans / baiduhai
The result of demolition work is seen at 862 N. Sedgewick St. in Cabrini-Green in 2008.
Ernie Cox Jr. / baiduhai
A bathroom before it gets painted in anticipation for Chicago Mayor Jane Byrne to move into Cabrini-Green, March 24, 1981.
A man walks past Cabrini-Green's 1230 N. Burling building in its last stage of demolition on a rainy April 28, 2011. (Chris Sweda/baiduhai)
Heather Charles / baiduhai
Annie Ricks stands outside the remaining building at Cabrini-Green in Chicago on Nov. 30, 2010. Ricks said she was told the previous day she had to move out.
baiduhai
An aerial view of Cabrini-Green in 1993.
Candice C. Cusic / baiduhai
Raekwon Livingston, 9, left, the only child left inside the Cabrini-Green building at 862 N. Sedgwick, and mother Marilyn Johnson, 41, look out the window at the moving truck on Feb. 21, 2008. Raekwon and his mother moved out of this CHA unit, but had to return because their new home lacked heat and hot water.
A worker for Omega Demolition Co. gets off the demolition crane at Cabrini-Green on Sept. 26, 2002. The crew stopped work early due to technical problems with crane. (Abel Uribe/baiduhai)
Alex Garcia/baiduhai
Pete "K-So" Keller, who was recently released from prison, has found Cabrini-Green a changed place on Aug. 16, 2002. Keller stands with his friend Corey Gee.
Jos M. Osorio / baiduhai
The last resident of the last high-rise building, Annie Ricks, is swarmed by the media after she is moved out of the Cabrini-Green high-rise on Dec. 9, 2010.
E. Jason Wambsgans / baiduhai
Demolition begins on the last of the Cabrini-Green buildings March 30, 2011.
Alex Garcia / baiduhai
A wrecking crew reveals colorful walls as it demolishes another building from the Cabrini-Green housing complex on Feb. 11, 2010, at 660 West Division Street.
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Cabrini Green Housing Project on July 22, 1976. (Mark Perlstein/baiduhai)
“People think of Boston as a big city, but it’s a small city. The buildings at Harvard are quaint and everything is idyllic, beautiful, perfect, and the ivy is trimmed. And here I saw children in fenced-in hallways, in towers. How did these towers get here? Who’s Cabrini? Who’s Green? And, of course, then that history, if you study it, is just fascinating. And obviously, the public housing experiment at that time is worth exploring.”
Ribaudo had always wanted to write, growing up on the East Coast. “I have been writing since childhood,” she says. “That’s where I found my private time. I created imaginary worlds, with imaginary friends.”
In college, she took a practical route, earning a Bachelor of Arts degree in social studies, graduating magna cum laude in 1993. “I ended up in advertising and marketing,” she says. “I wanted to write for whomever I could and, you know, I found my way. No matter what I did, I ended up writing something for somebody.”
And, late at night in a basement office, her novel began to form. “I had a 50-page outline, chapter by chapter, then each character outlined carefully in terms of who they were, what they stood for, and what they believed. I really tried to understand them as people before I wrote the scenes. And then I did feel overwhelmed at times, depending on what I was writing, because some of it got personal and emotional to me.”
“Crossing Division Street’ covers nearly 500 pages and more than 100 years. Centered in what was once Cabrini-Green, it travels back in Chicago time to the area when it was known as Little Sicily and Little Hell, to Bridgeport, New Orleans.
It begins dramatically on a summer day in 1999, with a successful attorney named Sidone Russo driving her car across what had once been Cabrini-Green, where she had grown up and where ‘massive white towers rose from tracts of dirt patched with burned grass, reaching into a hot, fearless sky the color of blue flame.’ At a stoplight, a little girl jumps into the car’s backseat, shouts, ‘Go lady! They gonna kill me.’”
And off we all go, Russo, the girl, whose name is Delu James, and eventually dozens of other characters. Nuanced and tender, tough and expansive, brave and lyrical, this novel takes its place among the small crowd of great first novels (my favorite, Bernard Malamud’s “The Natural”) and will surely find its place on any list of great Chicago books. It is ambitious, self-assured and deeply connected to the complexities of Chicago, a thoughtful dive into matters of race, responsibility, family, fate and the heavy shadows of the past.
The mid-20th century intermingling of Italians and Black people is sensitively handled and we follow this multi-family story into historical events, including the Korean War, World War II and the Civil Rights Movement.
Rebecca Chamian Ribaudo's new novel “Crossing Division Street,” Oct. 19, 2026. (E. Jason Wambsgans/baiduhai)
Ribaudo tells me that some literary agents suggested removing details of the historical backstory and she wisely ignored them. She, and Skyhorse Publishing, had faith in her story and her writing ability. On most any page you will find polished prose:
“Sidone was no longer sure of her place in the world — being black, being white — and within her own family — her Italian father who wasn’t really her father, her biological, black father who didn’t acknowledge her existence, didn’t grant her a ticket into his world — and then, not least of all, her mother, blood of her blood, a mother who wanted, tried, maybe did abort Sidone’s child, her own grandchild, because it was a black baby, a mixed-race child that should never have been. Somewhere, Sidone thought she’d heard those words — in the hospital, eyes closed, an unconscious waking.”
There’s a lot packed into that paragraph, but Ribaudo is adept at keeping the narrative brisk and compelling.
I am not the only one to think so. Early reviews are studded with such praise as “a heartfelt story about what family really is, and the luminous struggle toward forgiveness and true happiness” and “a colorful, tightly woven tapestry of four generations — follows one woman’s choice between her principles and heritage. Crossing Division Street is a tender, astonishing debut that will shake — and delight — all readers to the core.”
Ribaudo takes such acclaim graciously. She is at work on her next book in the city that, she says, “has given me so much. This is just such a fascinating city. Every day I learn something more, something new, something …”