The building, once an elite members' club frequented by celebrities, has devolved into a derelict squat, attracting antisocial behavior and neglect.
"I couldn't believe it. It was like a nightmare," Velazquez told ABC Chicago. The sheer disbelief of a homeowner being confronted by squatters defines the dread of property ownership.
"This is a building of the people," the squatter Dominique, who had worked construction, told me, referring to its history as a public health agency and its suitability for heavy use. Hard floors swept clean. Banks of cabinets, their material a blond composite, lined the halls, which at rhythms of their own let onto rooms that had been government workers' offices."
