The Battle of Oak Lawn

The sounds of a joyous celebration ceased inside Brandt's Tavern, a popular gathering place for Oak Lawn residents in the early 1900's.  The front door to the drinking establishment flung open violently.  Chicago police officers tried to defend themselves from an angry crowd inside.  As they stumbled out into the night, they cursed their tormentors.  Soon the squad cars took off amid jeers from the enraged citizens.

It might be hard to imagine a situation where everyday citizens are justified to assault officers of the law, but the night of February 3, 1913 was an exception.  When confronted with overly-aggressive and uncooperative outsiders, the people of Oak Lawn demonstrated that they knew right from wrong, and were willing to defend themselves if necessary.

After the turn of the 20th century, Oak Lawn was still a quiet community on the outskirts of Chicago, according to original documents, newspaper articles and photographs available in the local history room of the Oak Lawn Public Library.  Members of the village board of trustees were busy discussing the construction of a new school.  Due to the close-knit relationships that existed in Oak Lawn, there was no pressing need for a formal police department in the city.  Rarely, if ever, was there a situation that demanded an armed response from the law.

Originally located at the corner of 95th Street and Tully (now Kraus's Gaslite Lounge), Brandt's Tavern had long been a favorite weekend destination for locals.  With its spacious bar and banquet hall, it had hosted numerous community gatherings.  A dance was scheduled for February 13, with over 75 people that showed up for the festivities.  On hand was Harry Fletcher, one of the few watchmen that city hall had hired to keep order in the town.  Unfortunately, not even Oak Lawn's one on-duty cop was prepared for what would happen next.

At the suggestion of rival saloon owner Robert Long of Chicago Heights, three Chicago police officers entered the tavern and demanded to dance with the locals' wives.  Even after village president James Montgomery suggested that they leave, the officers insulted and harassed several women in front of their husbands.  The music stopped suddenly and the dance floor was emptied while tensions grew.

As the officers stalked around the room, Bill Horman, a longtime resident of Oak Lawn, began taking down the badge numbers of the unwanted guests.  When told to stop writing, Horman refused.  When one officer slowly reached for his revolver, Horman sent his fist flying into the man's face and he grabbed the weapon from the holster. 

Following the heroic lead of their friend, the crowd of 75 jumped to their feet and charged the remaining officers.  As they punched and kicked, the police stumbled out the front door, unaware that they had lost their badges and nightsticks in the scuffle.  Oak Lawn residents quickly locked the front and back doors of the tavern and returned to their dance, assuming that the city cops had learned their lesson.

Stumbling across the street, the officers and called their precinct captain, claiming that they had been unjustly assaulted by a mob of disgruntled citizens.  Within the hour, more Chicago police arrived on the scene, determined to avenge their battered and bruised brothers.

As 11 officers stalked back to the tavern, they stationed men at all entrances to the tavern and began beating on the doors with their nightsticks and fists.  Inside, village president Montgomery tried to negotiate with the officers to leave, but they refused to listen and were determined to retrieve their stolen revolvers and badges.  In a final show of force, Oak Lawn citizens burst out of the tavern and assaulted the officers once again.

Completely outnumbered and now facing their own weapons which had been seized by the crowd, the police were forced to retreat to their cars, exhausted and humiliated.  The crowd celebrated their victory and returned to the dance, where many toasts were given in honor of the heroic citizens.

According to unofficial village minutes taken the night of the incident, board members decided to meet the next day and assembled a committee that drafted a letter to Carter Harrison, Jr., the mayor of Chicago.  They demanded that the officers involved in the incident be fired.  By the end of the month, three of the 11 officers had been removed from the force and a formal apology was issued by the mayor's office to the city of Oak Lawn.

The front page of the Chicago Daily Tribune on March 4, 1913 reported that the police had "invaded Oak Lawn and proceeded to terrorize the whole village, broke up a community dance, insulted women, shot at town officials, and finally, after a fierce battle were driven from town."  The Chicago Police Department launched a full investigation of the incident and determined that the people of Oak Lawn had acted in self-defense.  No arrests were made in connection with the fight.

Although the actions of individual citizens were praised, it was obvious that the city needed a professional police force of its own.  The next two decades would see the Oak Lawn Police Department grow from a motley collection of night watchmen to a well-funded, law enforcement agency that had at its disposal uniformed officers, squad cars and motorcycles. 

For more information on the Brandt Tavern Brawl, visit the local history room at the Oak Lawn Public Library, 9427 South Raymond Avenue.  Mon – Thu, 9am – 9pm; Fri – Sat, 9am – 5pm.