Allen Busse and his Farm

 In the Chicago area, particularly in the northern portion, the name “Busse” probably takes you to the woods - Busse Woods - and to the man-made lakes where tens of thousands flock every year.  Officially known as “Ned Brown Forest Preserve” (I’ve never heard anyone call it that), Busse Woods is one of the largest holdings in the Cook County Forest Preserve system - so large, that it stands out as a dark green blob among its developed surroundings when viewed from aerial maps.  It’s a good preserve for herps, too, especially the section north of Higgins Road, but we’ll get to that another day.

There’s an interesting story about the preserve’s namesake.  Busse Woods was named in honor of William Busse, a Cook County commissioner and local, in 1949.  William Busse came from a VERY long line of Busses in the area, which began with Friedrich (1800-1877) and Johanna (1803-1878), German immigrants who arrived in 1848.  While the story of William Busse is probably a good one, tonight I’m focusing on Allen Busse (1925-2013), great-great-grandson of Friedrich and Johanna, and an extraordinary character in the story of Elk Grove Village’s history.

Friedrich and Johanna, a real fun-loving couple

Allen Busse was born on his family farm, specifically, in the kitchen of his ancestor’s 1872 house, located south of Higgins Road in Elk Grove (“Elk Grove Village” today).  This was just one of the many Busse farms that dotted the landscape at the time.  His upbringing was decidedly rural.  Suburban encroachment had not yet reached that part of Cook county, but it was looming.  

Allen Busse as a young boy

Allen busy with corn

On November 19th, 1943,  Allen would leave his family farm to enlist in the United States Army.  He served with the 13th "Black Cat" Armored Division during World War II.  In 1947, he married Margery Scharringhausen, later fathering two sons. He continued farming his 72 acres full time.

Over the ensuing decades, other local farms were sold to developers.  Some became subdivisions, some became light industry, and many were sold to develop and expand a military aircraft plant and airfield called Orchard Field Airport, later expanded and renamed O'Hare International Airport.  Due to its proximity to such a large and busy airport, Elk Grove Village quickly became one of the most densely-packed commercial hubs in the Chicago area.  By the 1970s, less than a handful of farms remained in the area, as the last holdouts hoped to get the most for their land.  Those who wished to remain despite developmental pressure would soon become discouraged at the rising taxes in the area, to a point where selling and relocating became the most pragmatic option.  Many historic, multigenerational farms were simply left behind for the bulldozers to forever snuff out.

By the 1980s, Elk Grove Village had been completely transformed into roughly half residential and half industrial, with no real open space to speak of, with the exception of a 72 acre patch of soil known as Allen Busse's farm.

Allen Busse, 1993

Allen Busse, variously described as stubborn, colorful, gruff, cantankerous, rugged, and resolute, stood his ground.  While other Busses went on to college and worked in banking and business, Allen kept on farming.  

"One branch of the family was more progressive...they became citified.  They were the 'town people'.  We (his parents and grandparents) were 'rural people,'" Busse stated in a 1993 interview.

As early as the 1970s, the Chicago Bears inquired into his farm for building a new stadium.  Busse didn't budge.  He played games with the Bears when they returned in the late 1990s to try to sweeten the deal.  He offered his farm to the McCaskeys for a ridiculous sum of money at the time ($30,000,000), which the Bears declined.  I think he knew they would.  Busse's well-publicized games of cat and mouse with developers were legendary.  He had strong ties to his property, and repeatedly scoffed at men in suits who came knocking on his door.

But Busse wasn't greedy.  While fending off multiple offers from big corporate developers, Busse, an Elk Grove Village paid-on-call firefighter between 1959-1973, gladly donated a four-acre corner of his land for a new firefighting training facility in 1998.

The Busse farm in later years. Note the notch in the lower right-hand corner, containing the Elk Grove Village firefighter training facility.

"Why should I prostitute this farm? The son-of-a-guns hound you like a dog after a rabbit, but I know that all that suspender-snapping is poppycock. For one thing, you pay 71% estate tax when you're over ten million dollars. Then there are fees for annexation, stoplights, left turning bays, and now a real estate transfer tax. All of a sudden you're not talking about much money. Besides, if I knew what I wanted to do with $600,000, I wouldn't be peacefully raising alfalfa on this land and chopping wood all winter long for $4 an hour." - Allen Busse, 1993

Allen Busse, right, after donating four acres to the local fire department for a new station.

The farmhouse itself was located at 955 East Higgins Road. A 1992 article for which Allen and his wife Margery were interviewed contained the following description:

"The house stands near Higgins Road, across the street from a Lou Malnati's pizzeria. But it's secluded among tall trees and bushes, and I later learned that many local people don't realize the farm is there.

Behind the tired, olive brown shingled house is a barnyard cluttered with tools: old tractors and trucks, stacks of cut wood and bricks, bales of hay, a collection of tree stumps, piles of rocks, and a dumpster partially filled with scrap iron.

Sitting down at Allen and Marge Busse's kitchen table, I felt like I was in the heart of farm country. The kitchen appliances and furnishings were plainly utilitarian, and the shelves were filled with bottles and gadgets that looked like they'd been there for decades. Permeating the air was a feeling of continuity, the sense of an unbroken connection to the land." - Robert Heuer

Reading this, I can't help but feel great regret for never knocking on that door while Allen was alive, even though he was sometimes known to greet unannounced visitors with a loaded shotgun in his hand and a surly expression on his face.

After Margery passed away in the early 90s, Busse appeared to concede that selling was his best course of action. A national trucking firm approached Allen and offered a significant sum of money, and the thought of selling, and then downsizing to a smaller farm downstate must have seemed like an attractive prospect. But right before the deal was finalized, his two sons came through, assuring their father that he could stay if he wanted (he did), because they would handle the finances upon his death.

So, once again, Allen got his way.  He gave the trucking company their earnest money back, much to the surprise of many, and got to live out most of the remainder of his life on the farm that was so dear to him.  

"When I die, this farm dies", insisted Allen Busse.

Allen Busse died in September of 2013 at the age of 88.  Except for the last few years during which he resided in a retirement home, he had spent his entire life living and working on his farm.  His son Tim took over operations for a while, but he had no real interest in farming here, and, the developer's sweet songs were tantalizing.  

Busse's old pickup truck and a pumpkin patch, 2017

Tim Busse

In January of 2018, Tim sold all of the land to an investment group who planned to redevelop the property into a technology and industrial park projected to be worth over one billion dollars. This included the four acres previously owned by the Elk Grove fire department, who agreed to move their facility elsewhere. Everything - the training station, the trees, the 1872 farmhouse - was swiftly paved over. A monolithic data center is among the group of huge, pale-colored buildings that now occupy the site.

Sadly, only two weeks after the sale, Tim passed away at the age of 65, joining his brother Rudolph (had had passed in 2001) and his father Allen in death, and ending a very long farming tradition in Elk Grove Village.

The following is a series of photos of the Busse farmhouse I took in the late summer of 2016.

It was a very sunny day, forgive the overexposure

A black farm cat

2016

Two years later from the same perspective (via Google maps). In place of the historic home is a sign stating, "Heritage meets Innovation in Elk Grove". Okay.

I felt that this story needed to be told again because there are important lessons here. How this story affects you might be very different from how it affects me, but one thing is certain: most of us can learn a thing or two from Allen Busse.