Although it’s been around for ages, media wasn’t always as aggressive as it is today. At least that’s what I thought before I arrived at the Tribune Tower, home of the Chicago Tribune.
Erected in 1925, the tower is a living testament to thousands of targeted publishing and outreach activities through the years. The frame of the building itself holds historical stones and rocks—relics from correspondents’ time abroad researching and reporting what’s what.
It was a novel idea, and until I looked it up once I got back home, I didn’t realise that the remains of global constructions came upon the Tribune as a natural progression of events—I’d assumed architects thought it through first and then found the stones as decor. How naive of me, when in fact they had incorporated those stones just because they had a story to tell.
Still a living, working entity, the insides of the building is even more marvellous, if that’s possible. Beyond the lobby area is also off-limits to tourists.
The lobby, though.
Words of wisdom, words of courage, words of wonderment, and even debarment and endearment lined those walls. Each quote revealed painful precision—according to the receptionist, the architects wrote them all by hand. Hard to believe there was a time when humans wrote on walls, words we’d read generations later. And how assuring that that’s not in the time of Facebook.
The Tribune Tower was just that—a massive building with impressive exterior and interiors. But it’s also a lot more than that. Even though there’s not much to observe in the building and only Tribune employees have access to its interior, the tower remains a reminder of what true journalism is all about. In this time of skewed media and sensationalisation, it’s quite amazing that the journalism of the past still survives and attracts people.