South Shore Beach (and cultural center)

Neither Katie’s nor my family has ever belonged to any clubs, and we like it that way. Between Katie’s friendly, egalitarian disposition, and my chronic fear of being left out, the exclusivity of most clubs is contrary to our nature. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t spend our childhoods jealous of friends who belonged to our hometown’s coveted social establishment, the Michigan Shores Club. There, you could go swimming! In a pool! That was indoors! And after you were done swimming, there was this cool machine that sucked all the water out of your swimsuit, so you could pack it up nice and dry, and then when you went home hours later and your mother flipped out at you because she thought your suit had become mildewy after sitting in your backpack all day, you could flash a know-it-all smile and explain the water-sucker machines that she hadn’t had the privilege of experiencing. And then there were bowling lanes that were always open and didn’t have that stale cigar smell from the only other bowling place in town, where I’m pretty sure the owner sat for 40 years straight puffing on the same cancer-stick (more like cancer-log, actually). And when you were done, you could go to this little restaurant that served hamburgers and milkshakes and French fries and you didn’t even have to pay. You just wrote down your family’s name and membership number and went back for more swimming. A totally fail-proof system in which no twelve-year-old non-member ever memorized another family’s number and mooched off of their account.

 Nope, that never happened.
So I hope it’s clear now, if it wasn’t already, that clubs are pretty cool, especially when they open themselves up to the public. And for this reason, it gives me great pleasure to say GET OFF YOUR BUM AND GO TO THE SOUTH SHORE BEACH NOW!!! This beach is on the grounds of the South Shore Cultural Center, formerly the South Shore Country Club, a beautifully designed establishment for the South Side’s wealthy residents in the first half of the twentieth century. But when the neighborhood changed and the country club continued to refuse membership to non-whites and non-Christians (they had magnanimously opened themselves up to Catholics after a few decades), it frankly got what it deserved and closed in the early 1970s. The city then bought the property, and what remains carries every bit of opulence of the original club, but shares it with the whole community. This place is so cool that walking in feels just like walking on to the Titanic, without that feeling of imminent disaster. This place is so cool that there were multiple—yes, multiple—rooms where I came quite close to skipping around and singing “I Am 16, Going on 17.” This place is so cool, that Barack and Michelle had their wedding reception here. And that, friends, is cool.

Let’s spend a little time here at the Cultural Center before moseying down to the beach. As you pull into the grounds, you proceed up a long driveway, lined by a lush 9-hole golf course and the most mature, majestic trees I have seen in the city of Chicago. You come closer to the Center, which I’m told was designed in the Mediterranean Revival style, but in layman’s terms just looks really tall and impressive. Plentiful parking awaits both sides of the Center, but is cleverly hidden by ivy-strewn arbors.

Walking into the Cultural Center feels like walking into a 1920s party that turned Jay Gatsby away for being so pathetic. At the northernmost end is a ballroom with floor-to-ceiling windows, marble columns, and intricate chandeliers. I swear my posture just improved by witnessing that room and I felt a sudden urge never to end a sentence with a preposition again. In the center of the building is a Solarium (that’s fancy-talk for sunroom) that overlooks Lake Michigan, which would be perfect for holding high tea or learning how to walk with a book balanced on your head or some archaic ritual akin to that. At the south end is a theatre which doubles as a more modernized room for special events, and we were lucky enough to stumble into a dance show by local teenagers. Good grammar, high tea, and ethnic dancing—I don’t know how you could get more cultured than that! (But actually you can, because also in the Center is a display on these weird Puerto Rican clown costumes [I know I’m supposed to be open-minded about these things, but I draw the line for all cultures with clowns], and a Zagat-rated restaurant called the Parrot Cage that features Southern comfort food by students at Washburne Culinary Institute. It’s only open during the evenings and for weekend brunch, which to me means fancy-shmancy.

Oh and there are really clean bathrooms, too.

And, oh my gosh you guys, we found out where they keep the horses that the city’s mounted police ride on! (Count “where they keep the police’s horses” as one thought that had never previously crossed my mind.) It’s right next to the grounds, and the cops even practice their horsey moves in a corral where the country club’s stables used to be.

All right, we’re just about ready to move on to the beach (I know I know, I should just get on with it already). But I feel I should first address the proverbial elephant in the room. As we’ve ventured farther down to the South side, we’ve received a few inquiries about whether we feel safe at these beaches. Yes. At every beach we’ve gone to, including South Shore, we have always felt completely safe and surrounded by caring community members. Jack, the security guard at the Cultural Center and a retired Chicago cop, said he is unaware of anybody ever having a single problem with the place. When (not if,  when) you make it down, try to see if Jack is working, because he is so friendly and a wealth  of information. 

Anyway, the beach. It’s great. It’s about 100 yards from the Cultural Center, which is absolutely close enough to make the trek up to use the nice bathrooms. The Center provides an elegant background to the cleanest beach we have seen yet. The space isn’t overwhelmingly large, but there is plenty of room for everyone, including a camp with about 50 kids. Small peninsulas of mature growth jut out on both sides of the water, which insulates from the less-attractive architecture elsewhere on the shore. A beach volleyball net sits at the southwest corner of the sand, and what do you know, people actually use it to play beach volleyball! This beach was beautifully kept; looking back on the Cultural Center behind us, we really felt like we were on a fancy vacation at some Victorian bed and breakfast, without the crazy lady who works there who can’t seem to stop yammering on about her cats.

Just south of the beach is a nature sanctuary that people respect enough to treat as a nature sanctuary, not a bathroom stall at a nightclub (if you’re confused what I mean by that, re-read our review of Montrose). Fiberglass paths circle a wetlands that even has lily pads and butterflies. The sanctuary’s not huge, but is the perfect cushion for the beach’s edge.

There is also a beach stand that at one time featured concessions but no longer does—but hey, with a Zagat-rated restaurant a few steps away, who cares if you can get an overpriced bag of potato chips. There are bathrooms in the stand, which is a good option if you have a newly potty-trained kid who doesn’t realize until much too late that it’s time for a #2, but on all other occasions we’d advice against using this bathroom. There are showers constantly running in there, so there’s no way you’re coming out any cleaner and drier than you were when you walked in. Plus, there’s a super clean indoor bathroom about 2 minutes away. Don’t be lazy.

Now, here’s where it gets tricky. With normal beaches, the absence of fake cheese and the presence of a disgusting bathroom would bring serious demerits. But we are so in love with South Shore Beach that it didn’t even matter this time. You know our love for this beach must be true if we are willing to forgo fake cheese for it. Most other beaches are bland enough that they need those things just to keep them interesting, but not South Shore. I mean, does anybody go to the Grand Canyon and think, “yeah it’s nice, but I wish there were better restrooms between the rim and the floor.” Or see the Taj Mahal and say “ooh yeah pretty…hey does anyone know where I can get some nachos?” I promise you, once you visit this place, the things that you typically think about at beaches will leave your mind and you will only be impressed.


Please, please, if you haven’t already, go to South Shore Beach. (And to anyone in my parents’ generation: it doesn’t count if you went to a wedding here forty years ago. Try again.) Show some love to a part of the city that could use it, and be prepared to be mesmerized.


Address: 7059 S. South Shore Drive (yup, that’s two souths in one address. Deal.)
Parking: Plentiful at $1/hour
Atmosphere: Unexpectedly opulent
Food/Restrooms: Yes to both Overall Grade: A