Summer 2001

Valerie Spale: Prairie Bulldog

WOLF ROAD PRAIRIE is the last open area of significant ecological value in west-central Cook County. This 80-acre parcel, including parts never disturbed by plow or earthmover, is home to very high quality prairie and an ever rarer high quality oak savanna. But the fact that it exists at all is one part luck and one part plain bulldog tenacity on the part of Valerie Spale, long-time executive director of the Save The Prairie Society (STPS) in Westchester.

"I used to drive by the prairie all the time and just thought it was an empty lot," says Spale, who lives about a mile away in a Westchester two-flat. "And then my son and I attended a slide show about it at the library. It was beautiful and they told us it was being saved. I thought that was fine — my son would always be able to enjoy it. Then I found out that the owners of the lots [that made up the prairie] were petitioning for utilities so they could build. We protested, but the village wouldn’t give us the time of day." That was in 1975.

The Great Depression saved the prairie the first time around. Six hundred city-sized lots, averaging 33 x 125 feet, had been sold. Streets were platted, sidewalks laid. Then suddenly no one had any money to build homes anywhere in the 80 acres.

After World War II, Westchester changed its zoning laws, making the tiny lots illegal to build on. But that didn’t stop speculators from buying up groups of lots and pressing the village to let them start their bulldozers. In the meantime, the prairie itself got a helping hand from kids who would regularly set fires there, especially at Halloween. Sometimes even the fire department would burn it for practice. But when STPS started to acquire land at the prairie, things were no longer so easy: they had to spend hours building firebreaks when burning underbrush to make sure the fire didn’t stray into lots still in private hands.

That lot-by-lot burning illustrates the unique challenges faced by the Wolf Road Prairie. Because it had been sold in small chunks in the 20s, it had to be painstakingly repurchased from individual owners and their heirs. STPS then turned them over to either the Illinois Department of Natural Resources (IDNR) or the Forest Preserve District of Cook County — whoever would put up the funds to reimburse the Society.

Spale seeks no personal credit for rescuing the Wolf Road Prairie from repeated attempts to develop the property over the past 20 years. Still, those who’ve worked with her agree that without her dedication, the prairie almost certainly would be paved over today.

"She’s relentless — you punch her down and she just comes back," says Illinois State Treasurer Judy Baar Topinka, who helped Spale secure the $8 million in state funds that allowed STPS to turn the first four parcels of the prairie officially into nature preserve land.

Spale certainly doesn’t look like a man-the-barricades green revolutionary. She looks like what she is: a suburban wife and mother, stylishly dressed in a grey and black pants outfit who drives a Cadillac. But there is no doubting the fire in her belly, especially when she starts talking about why she thought the prairie was worth so much effort. It’s the kids, silly, especially her kid, Kevin. He’s married now; he was just in first grade when his mom became a developer’s worst nightmare. Her husband, Kenneth, has supported her efforts for 20 years as the group’s treasurer and Spale’s strong shoulder.

"A lot of people don’t have the chutzpah to carry forward; Valerie is simply not daunted by what seems impossible at first," declares Gerould Wilhelm, now a botanist for Conservation Design Forum and technical adviser for many years at Wolf Road Prairie. "She’s a great strategist and tactician who knows how to make it difficult for the opposition."

By 1993, STPS, led by Spale, had persuaded IDNR and the forest preserve district to acquire enough lots to make development of the main parcel economically unattractive. "The majority of neighbors call us ‘weedniks,’" says Phil Cihlar, president of STPS. "But this area needs this prairie. We’re bracketed by two strip malls and we’re across the street from the most expensive new development in Westchester. Still, lots of people around here look at this as just an empty field that could have houses on it."

Spale and her volunteer army have continued to use agitation, publicity, persuasion, and legal challenges to thwart the efforts of developers and governmental bodies with designs on parts of the prairie.

In the latest battle, Spale has led the charge to create a buffer zone between the prairie and an EPA Superfund landfill, just to the west, while vigorously opposing efforts to build a 128-unit senior apartment complex and a magnet school in the proposed buffer.

Spale says her greatest reward is seeing Chicago-area schoolchildren discover Wolf Road Prairie for the first time. "This is perhaps their first experience with nature, and they’re always fascinated," Spale says. "One even asked me, as we were walking through head-high wildflowers and grasses, ‘Where are the tigers?’"

Politicians and bureaucrats at all levels know there are no tigers at the Wolf Road Prairie. Just one bulldog and an equally tenacious group of volunteers and backers. "Valerie takes no prisoners," says Topinka. "She has a vision for the future, for the sanity the prairie will always provide in an urban area. It’s for the children."

— Nancy Shepherdson