David Petitti: Once nirvana for mall shoppers, Northbrook Court's time has passed

Chicago Tribune

14-04-2025

If the afterlife imitates art, when I die in my bed like the old lady in 'Titanic,' I will be ushered into a sweet hereafter centered on the most glorious, glamorous place I knew in the physical realm. For Rose, that was being back aboard the Titanic, welcomed by Jack with an outstretched hand, the stairways and balcony lined with the passengers of that fateful voyage looking on with love, smiles and a hearty round of applause. For me, the apotheosis of grandeur and scintillation was Northbrook Court in the 1980s.
Like a temple for the North Shore, the shofar of Northbrook Court called out to its faithful — just about everyone from ages 12 to 20 — to come together as a community in a vast enclosed space as moving as a medieval cathedral and just as sacred. To live in close proximity (walking distance for me) to Northbrook Court — once one of the largest indoor malls in America — was akin to being born with a silver spoon in your mouth. At your literal doorstep was a veritable world capital of social connection, retail nirvana and eclectic dining opportunities.
As I strode over those shiny teak floors like a boy king, tracing a finger along the tinted glass railings of the second floor, I felt a part of something big. A kid only had to get to the mall to get plugged into the greatest social scene in the '312' (or '708' after 1989). You may not have been part of a clique there, but proximity lent relevance. You were there. You were part of the scene, like Tony Manero at 2001 Odyssey in 'Saturday Night Fever.'
The irresistible frisson of Northbrook Court was kicked up a notch by who you might see there. Anybody who was anyone in the Chicago metropolitan area could possibly be lurking. Mike Ditka, Michael Jordan, certainly a pre-famous Vince Vaughn, the Murray brothers, even Mary Tyler Moore! The possibilities of running into the famous were omnipresent at Northbrook Court. And sometimes, you negotiated the inconveniences of a movie or television production. The films 'Weird Science' and 'Ordinary People' found their stories elevated by the magic of this mall.
The retail offerings of Northbrook Court provide a snapshot of long-gone merchants that etched their place in the mercantile history of America: Sears, Sharper Image, Arcadia and KB Toys. For sustenance, there was One Potato Two, The Great Fry Company, Egg Roll and Etc. — and then, a McDonald's followed closely by a Taco Bell. For a 12-year-old, this food court was like 15 Michelin-starred restaurants in one giant culinary clump — a Voltron in eatery format. What choices! McNuggets? A Royal Potato? A cookie, perhaps? What is that pungent smell? Ah, Gloria Jean's Coffees must be grinding some java for an adventurous soul looking to try something different than a cup of Brim or Sanka.
But time and progress march on. With the pandemic and the rise of e-commerce, Northbrook Court now bears more resemblance to Cairo, Illinois, than to the Fifth Avenue — or even Michigan Avenue — of the northern suburbs. With the departure of Apple this month, the mall is now in its final days. A vast surface lot that once was filled nearly to capacity in November and December of any given year now has space enough for drivers to do doughnuts on a snowy Black Friday. Like the ghostly hulk of the Titanic below the surface of the sea, Northbrook Court is a quiet and cavernous relic — at the bottom of the retail food chain.
There is no second act. It will be redeveloped, probably to accommodate people who can hit a bucket of balls and have an appletini and some calamari before retiring to their new townhome. Maybe some will know the hallowed ground on which they trod — how it was, at one time, the nexus of culture, local society and fine (albeit, perhaps greasy) dining as a paragon of the suburban mall. Things change because they must. Creative destruction is healthy.
Time has passed for this American classic.