The Casino Club Chicago Wedding

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On a bright January morning, surrounded by the laughter of her sisters and girlfriends, Amy waited patiently. The room fell to a hush as her Father walked in to see his daughter dressed and ready for her wedding day. A warm look of pride came over his face as he walked into the room and then tears overcame them both. Above the rooftops, Parker was waiting to see his bride for the first time, they were surrounded by the historic part of the Chicago skyline. Tears continued to fall and the day was off to a wonderfully emotional start. Old Chicago was the was the setting for this wonderful black tie celebration and it almost felt like we’d traveled back to the 1920’s as the celebration unfolded all around us. Check out a few favorite images from this classic old Chicago wedding.

Getting ready: Public Hotel, Racquet Club of Chicago Make-up: Make-up by Elisa Ceremony: Forth Presbyterian Church Reception: Chicago Casino Club

There are those who think Society is dead, but they are fools. In Chicago, at least, there will always be Society, because, don't you know, there will always be The Casino club.

If you don't think so, just ask that nice little insurance company that built the John Hancock Center next door to the Casino (but more about that later).

Chicago is a city full of clubs. It could scarcely function without them.

The most powerful club in town-its membership list fairly creaking with weighties and mighties-is of course the Chicago Club, which a century ago was able to get the federal government to rush out and put up Ft. Sheridan just so there would be troops on hand to put down labor riots and other untoward disturbances.

But, since it was established in 1914, the most absolutely, utterly, excruciatingly exclusive club in Chicago has been the Casino, and I can think of nothing short of a major earthquake to render it otherwise.

Even then, it would be the most exclusive rubble in the city.

For those of you who have not crossed the Casino's decorous if not terribly decorative threshold, the Casino occupies what amounts to a one-story little black and green building at 195 E. Delaware Pl. among the towering high rises of Streeterville just off North Michigan Avenue.

It is unmarked and, passing by it, you might think it maybe a pricey funeral home or the pied-a-terre of some wealthy, eccentric and extremely private person.

Its much marbled, pastel-colored, classic and great Art Deco interior is perhaps the loveliest and certainly most tasteful space in town-and I don't think has been more than dusted since 1928. Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney would have loved it-though the club members probably would not have loved her bohemian ways.

There's a dining room, a lounge, a ballroom and not much else. Once, when I was addressing a luncheon gathering there, I remarked how much the pillared ballroom reminded me of a Parisian bal musette (or dance hall). The members were not amused.

It is not, as its name could suggest, some racy gambling den (unless you consider teatime bridge as racy, and I think there are some Casino Club members who actually do), full of rakehells, mountebanks and fallen or falling ladies. Like the tennis Casino in Newport, R.I., it draws its name not from Monte Carlo but from the principal definition of the word 'casino': 'A building or room used for social amusements.'

The social amusements at the Casino run to lunching, dining, napping (sometimes while lunching and dining), gossiping and the occasional dancing. Mostly, they run to what F. Scott Fitzgerald described in 'The Great Gatsby' as 'the rich being rich together.'

Not simply 'the rich,' but 'Society'-and Society includes many who, though belonging to the Truly Elite, are quite poor. One woman I know of, conned out of her fortune by a rascally husband, was taken regularly to lunch at the Casino and other places by friends who knew it was the only way the poor thing would get anything to eat. Happily, the scoundrel died before he could divorce her and remarry (as was presumed to be his plan), and she got all her money back.

But the Casino is more than a high-toned soup kitchen for the temporarily strapped. As one very social lady of my acquaintance put it: 'The Casino was founded by the elite for the elite, and they're still using it.'

The invasion of the socialite

I am as hard put to define 'Society' as the estimable Cleveland Amory was in his landmark book, 'Who Killed Society?' The book was published in 1960, and, despite that hyperbolic title, Society is of course still very much alive and kicking-not to speak of tea dancing and harrumphing.

But people have always been trying to kill it, and what's killing it most nowadays seems to be the 'socialite.'

As you might gather from reading all the social life magazines that now abound in the area (I think there's even one dealing with doings in Glenview, which I never realized had doings), the term 'Chicago socialite' is tossed around so loosely you'd think the title was available for purchase at Wal-Mart or bus station vending machines.

Seemingly anyone with the price of rental evening wear, an invite to a charity dinner and a news or magazine photographer pal or two can get himself or herself labeled 'socialite' in the public print. If Chicago had as many street cleaners as it does socialities, it would be a much tidier place.

But despite their relentless attempts to blur the distinction, there is a difference between socialites and Society. For the best measure of which is which, you need only pick up a slim little yellow book that says, 'The Casino, Members and By-Laws.'

The name of the game

I shan't list all 200 plus current members' names, but they include Adams, Armour, Baldwin, Bartholomay, Bensinger, Blair, Blettner, Butler (no, not the Oak Brook Butlers), Chaffetz, deFrise, Donnelley, Fentress, Gidwitz (the beautiful Christina), Graham, Harvey, Heineman, Jahn (Helmut the architect), Kroch, McCormick, Nielsen, Oldberg, Olmsted, Paepcke, Potter Palmer, (the Lord Peter) Palumbo, Paschen, Prince, Ryan, Ryerson, Smith, Sudler, Terra, Voysey, Wilkin (Abra, don't you know), Wirtz and Wood.

'By the time we found out,' one lady member told me, 'it was too late to start the blackball!'

How does one become a member? The bylaws do not say. If they did, I think they would say something like: 'No person may join the Club who is not already a member.'

Though the Casino does have a small quota of non-resident members, I-now a Virginian-am not one of them. I do from time to time visit it as a guest, but am careful to count the times. The bylaws state: 'A Non-Member of THE CASINO may accept an invitation to the Club only once a month and must be accompanied at all times by a Member. A Non-Member may be invited to attend a party in the Club of 25 persons or more, irrespective of having used the privilege for that month.'

Alas, the standard for admission to the club is much high for non-members than for those people merely allowed to rent the club for parties. Consider the hired hall luncheon being thrown this month by non-member Sugar Rautbord for non-member and visiting author Dominick Dunne.

In the beginning

The initial raison d'etre of the Casino was to provide an oasis for Lake Foresters who, after a hard day shopping, tea dancing or captaining industry, just couldn't bear to drive or train all the way back to the North Shore to change into evening finery for nocturnal gavottes in the city.

Originally, the Casino was in a pink and white (gads) building at 167 E. Delaware Pl., but an unscrupulous real estate developer (imagine, in Chicago!) sold the property out from under the club and in 1928 it was compelled to move to its present site.

You can bet your booties that sort of thing never happened again. In the mid-1960s, the Hancock people decided to put up a major development on the block fronting Michigan between Delaware Place and Chestnut Street. They needed the entire block because they planned to erect an office tower and a residential one on the space.

But, then as now, a significant section of the block was taken up by the Casino. The Hancock people wrote to longtime club president Mrs. John Winterbotham asking to negotiate the purchase of the club property. They weren't even given the courtesy of a scornful reply. Years later, after Mrs. Winterbotham died, the Hancock's letter was found buried in a drawer of her desk-so far beneath contempt she didn't bother answering it.

Deprived of space for two buildings, the Hancock Center project developers were compelled to stick the residential tower on top of the office one, producing what was-for a time-the world's tallest building.

Falling into place

The Hancock folks were certainly decent about it all, though-going to the trouble of pumping 44,000 gallons of liquid grout into the soil under the Casino to solidify its base and keep teacups from rattling while their skyscraper was under construction.

Still, a large piece of machinery fell from the Hancock's girders during the construction, hitting the Casino's roof, and the area was bombarded by falling hammers, bolts and at least one bucket, though no one was injured.

In the middle of one horrid night, a huge chunk of ice broke off the Hancock and crashed through the Casino's roof into (gasp) the ballroom! Club employees discovering the damage in the morning were said to be 'aghast.'

Most of the time-when chunks of ice aren't falling through the roof-the place is about the quietest in the city. The acoustics are such that you can overhear even the most decorous lunch conversation-though some aren't decorous at all. I recall one in which a very grande dame kept booming on about how terrible the food was, how insufferably slow the service was, etc., etc., etc.

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All the while, waiters kept shuffling about her table paying no attention whatsoever.

In the days before ethnic diversity, one prominent and now deceased Jewish society lady who was not a Casino member was so thrilled by a party thrown in her honor at the club that she had prominent mention of it made in her prepared obituary. A much beloved current member of the Casino reportedly is making plans for a party to be held in her honor there after her demise.

Some of the simply loveliest wedding receptions in town are held at the Casino. There are debs parties, too-but only the most select, and sedate.

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'The flashy ones are sent to the hotels,' one member explained.

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Probably the most excitement attendant to the Casino occurs, not on the club premises, but at mailboxes all over the Chicago area when the invitations are sent out for the Casino's annual December Ball-held the first Friday of that month and universally considered the most exclusive and most prestigious event on the Chicago social calendar.

Not only is the invitation list a carefully held secret; the membership of the committee that draws up the list is kept secret.

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I'm told only 250 are invited to the December Ball dinner, and another 400 are allowed in later to join in the dancing. All others, including that great mob of Chicago 'socialities,' can likely be found that night holed up at home with the lights out, lest it be discovered where they aren't.