For Batavia’s Skyline, Safety Ultimately Beats Sentiment

By: Jim Fahrenbach

BATAVIA, Ill. — Being one of the few suburbs older than Chicago, for over a century, the 110 foot brick smokestack at 25-31 North River Street in Batavia has stood as a silent sentinel over the Fox River, a rugged monument to Batavia’s industrial past. But on Monday night, a majority of the City Council agreed its time has run out.

In an 11-3 vote, the Council approved a Certificate of Appropriateness for the full demolition of the chimney, prioritizing immediate public safety over historic preservation. The decision followed an emotional and complex debate that exposed deep anxieties about the city's ability to protect its heritage assets before they become liabilities.

"Daylight Through the Bricks"

The conversation began with a stark reality check. The property owner presented findings from a structural engineer revealing that the 1910-era chimney was in a state of "severe decay."

The assessment was damning: mortar joints in the top 25 feet had eroded to the point where daylight was visible through the masonry. Internal iron ladder rungs had rusted and expanded, cracking the brickwork from the inside out—a "cancer" in the structure that made restoration not only cost-prohibitive but potentially dangerous to attempt.

"We didn't know until we got inside," the owner explained to the Council, describing how the internal degradation was far worse than the exterior suggested. "I don't want to be liable."

The "Demolition by Neglect" Dilemma

While no one disputed the safety hazard, the request to raze the structure sparked a broader frustration among the alderpersons: How did it get this bad?

Several Council members lamented a pattern they described as "demolition by neglect," where historic properties are allowed to deteriorate until demolition becomes the only viable option. Most recently seen in the years long decay and pending demolition of the wooden “Tin Shop” also on River Street.

"This better be the last thing on River Street I am asked to tear down," one alderperson stated, expressing anger that the city lacks stronger mechanisms—such as grant programs or stricter maintenance enforcement—to help owners preserve these landmarks before they reach a crisis point.

The debate highlighted a gap in the city’s preservation toolkit. While Batavia mandates strict aesthetic standards for its historic district, it doesn't offer the required financial assistance to private owners facing the exorbitant costs of maintaining century-old infrastructure. Potential restoration estimates for the chimney soared past $250,000, while full demolition was priced around $110,000.

A Compromise Rejected

The Historic Preservation Commission (HPC) had previously recommended a compromise: a partial demolition that would lower the stack to roughly 22 feet. This would have removed the most dangerous upper sections while keeping a "stub" to honor the building's industrial profile.
However, the Council ultimately rejected this path. Concerns were raised that a 22-foot remnant would still require maintenance, pose future liability, and potentially hinder the redevelopment of the property, which suffers from high vacancy rates.

"Why do we want to save a smokestack that has been a detriment to that property?" asked one alderperson, suggesting that removing the blight could finally spark new investment in the struggling River Street corridor.

Echoes of History

The loss of the smokestack—originally associated with the old Kee & Chapell Dairy creamery—was met with resignation but sadness. Community members and councilors alike spoke of it as an "iconic" part of the skyline.

To mitigate the loss, ideas for adaptive reuse were floated during the discussion. Suggestions included harvesting the historic bricks to build a monument or constructing a habitat for chimney swifts—birds that roost in vertical shafts—to pay homage to the structure's ecological and architectural legacy.

Ultimately, the vote reflected a pragmatic, if painful, consensus: a city needs to balance its past at the risk of its citizens' safety.

"It’s a unique situation," the property owner noted, pleading for the Council to understand that the structural failure was hidden and rapid and the severity not known until they inspected the inside of the smokestack.

For now, the skyline will change, but the conversation it sparked—about the cost of history and the price of safety—is likely to echo in Batavia for years to come.