PEORIA: THE LITTLE
MONEY GRABBERS
NORMAN
V. KELLY
Other than politicians who love to spend city
revenue, do you think it would be safe to say that we all hate parking meters?
Sure, we understand what the benefits of all those nickels and dimes do for the
city…but we still hate them. Have you ever wondered how they came to be,
standing there on every corner, flashing their little red ‘Expired’ signs at
you? And…what about those enforcers that
seem to have their eyes on your car just waiting to sweep down on you the
moment the meter beckons them? I swear
that we have at least 5,000 of them in Peoria alone, and now they are swooping
down on us riding Segways. It’s
downright diabolical. Well, let me tell
you the story of the parking meter in Peoria, Illinois. I think you will find
that we have a history of hating parking meters, and it started even before
they were first installed.
Traffic, according to the chief of police in
1860 was ‘Utter chaos’, and of course there was not a motor vehicle to be
seen. Once our breweries and
distilleries were up and running, a typical Saturday in downtown Peoria,
Illinois was chaotic, no doubt about that. There were hundreds of horses,
buggies, freight wagons, mule wagons, pedestrians and horse drawn carriages
hurrying around like ants on a spilled bag of sugar. Of course as our
population grew and the ‘Infernal combustion nuisance’ brought on by men like
Charles Duryea replaced the horse, the traffic nightmare grew.
THE LITTLE
MONEY GRABBERS
That’s what many Peorians called the parking
meters when they first appeared here in Peoria on that early morning of
ll-22-1938. Now the mayor and the aldermen talked about those moneymakers a
lot, but they waited to see the outcome of lawsuits around America against
cities that had installed them. The judges upheld the municipalities so the
mayor ordered 100 of them on a ‘trial basis.’ They were quickly installed and
seemed to pop up like mushrooms in a three-block radius of downtown
Peoria. Mayor McClugage took the brunt
of the immediate uproar from businessmen that swarmed city hall complaining
that the meters would destroy their businesses.
Next the aldermen were attacked, once the folks learned that they voted
for the meters 15-2. The battle raged.
The local politicians, being just that, came
up with a united stand, convincing homeowners that the revenue from the meters
would surely keep their real estate taxes from rising. Well…as they say, money talks, and the furor
subsided a bit. So you guessed it, the mayor ordered 700 more of them from the
Time Meter Company, and that brought the Peoria Chamber of Commerce into the
battle on the side of the businessmen.
Even the Chicago Motor Club threatened to bring a suit against the city,
but the contract had already been signed.
Once the smoke and fire cleared, the meters began to appear all over
downtown Peoria and before you could say ‘Time Expired’, there were 800 of the
hungry little beasts anchored soundly in their concrete bases…just ticking
away, waiting to be fed.
Folks made a lot of jokes about them, and one
of my favorites summed it up. “We here in Peoria can tolerate our gamblers, our
whores and our politicians but we cannot tolerate parking meters.”
COUNT THE
MONEY
The early meters cost $55.00 to purchase and
about $10.00 to install, so from the cities’ standpoint it was a rainbow with a
pot of gold at the end. It was simple
enough to figure, more meters, more money, and so it went. By September of
1939, another 700 meters were ordered, and this time the alderman voted 12 to 7
approving the measure. The first year
revenue reported that the initial 100 meters collected $3,099.93, operating six
days a week. Can’t you just see the eyes of those politicians pop out at that
impressive figure? The total income
from the 800 meters garnered the city coffers $61,621.35. That is a lot of pennies and nickels,
right? The driver got 12 minutes for one
penny, and one hour for a nickel. Of
course it took the money grabbers little time to eventually cut down on the
time and increase the costs by dimes and quarters. But…I didn’t have to tell you that…did I?
By 1940, the meters were earning a whopping
$5,000.00 a month, and by 1953 we had 1,700 meters waiting for you downtown.
Along with that were 47 parking lots waiting to accept your donation, some of
them owned by the City of Peoria
Editor’s
Note: Norm is a local historian and
author of eight books about Peoria ,
Illinois Peoria
This one is of
course within the ‘criminal side.’
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