For more than a century women have contributed to the industrial and commercial development of Elgin. Females didn't outnumber 'males in the United States as a whole until about 1945; in this city men were in the minority as early as the 1870 census.

The chief reason for the predominance of women in our population was the watch factory, where their nimble fingers were adept at operating intricate machinery and assembling minute parts. For many years the payroll at the big plant on National Street was about evenly divided between the sexes, although no woman was ever made a foreman.

Women were also found in large numbers at the shirt, shoe, watch case and milk condensing plants. By 1909 women accounted for 39.2 percent of the city's industrial wage earners—a higher proportion than in any other city in Illinois and more than twice the ratio found in the state as a whole.

Many were married, and although they did not receive equal pay for equal work, families with two paychecks were relatively prosperous. The two-income family, an Elgin institution long before it was common nationally, made possible widespread home ownership and gave the city a middle-class aura not usually associated with factory towns.

The women were active in the business world, too. In an account strikingly appropriate
to the modem working wife, a correspondent for the New York Tribune wrote as early as 1865:

"Most of the stores in Elgin have lady clerks ... Married women are preferred ... After eight 'o'clock at night there is little time to rest."

Women also owned their own enterprises. Commenting on their neighborhood groceries in 1909, the Daily Courier reported: "One finds the women proprietors exceedingly bright, driving the best bargains possible in the purchasing of goods and selling on credit only to those customers who will surely pay."

The high proportion of women in Elgin attracted early leaders in the movement for women's rights. Susan B. Anthony came here to lecture on the right to vote in 1876. Frances E. Willard advocated a life of temperance in 1844, and Jane Addams discussed the relation of women to trade unionism in 1899.

Women founded our two general hospitals, women closed the saloons long before national prohibition, women led the campaign for a cleaner city, and women were largely responsible for the adoption of our present form of municipal government.

In addition to all their skills and achievements, a visiting upstate New York journalist in
1914 could say of Elgin's remarkable women that "on the whole they are the cleanest, best dressed, best behaved, most modest appearing that I have ever seen in all my travels."

And who would disagree with that! Add a comment

A list of what irks me most in life: Hubbub, hurly-burly, hullabaloo, (with exception to the 60s TV show, which I remember fondly), brouhaha, rowdy do and rumpus and noise, all of which has taken place in my home under my direction, so if you refuse to lend me a bit of sympathy, I'll understand.

The epicenter of pandemonium is my den, a room that was added with little or no consideration for timelessness, most likely since it was tacked on the back of my 100-year-old house in the 1970s. I can't blame the room in question for its lack of style as I, too was less than classic in the 70s. I'd like to say I did better in the 80s, but as we all know, the 80s  were a contest to see who could most resemble a person in a perpetual state of electrocution. (The guy from Flock of Seagulls won.)

So, with pots and kettles both being black, I have no room to accuse my den of being a "don't" fashion-wise, despite the fact that, by the time I first encountered my den in the mid-90s, I had cut off both my shag haircut and my mile high perm, and the room in question was still wearing orange carpeting, which most everyone knows is a faux pas especially when worn with mud brown panelling, accented with a wall of orangey brick with black grout. Needless to say, the room had serious self-esteem issues, especial since the rest of the house was resplendent with Victorian timelessness and had a bit of an attitude toward the new guy.

Upon moving in, we wasted no time redecorating the room (in the spirit of full disclosure, it was five years later. Time flies when you are avoiding work.) We painted and carpeted and removed a room air-conditioner which had been mounted, willy-nilly, three-quarters of the way up the wall because willy-nilly is a great name for a cat, it is a horrible place for an 70s era air conditioning unit.

I'm going to pause here to explain why my former handy man was, and probably still is, evil. The morning this phase was being accomplished, my handyman stood watch on a ladder, just outside the wall where he had removed the offending appliance, lurking. As I entered the room in my usual state of first-thing-in-the-morning stupor, tea in hand and newspaper in other hand, he leaned through the now empty orifice and wished me good morning. After I changed into new pajamas I fired him which he found amusing until I finally made him leave years later when he found a better job. I hope he learned a lesson.

Time went on and we traded our big dog for two little ones and my young son for a galoot, neither trade was anticipated and both were made completely under duress and without my permission. (For the record, my big dog, Bianca was the best dog ever and rarely stepped out of bounds, literally. We didn't even need to erect a fence. We explained boundaries to her and she simply complied out of a sense of fair play and clean living. I promise this is true and should be considered her legacy. Plus, she had soft ears and woke early each day to apply eye liner. I will now return you to your regular programming as I take a weep break.)

Fast forward to the small dog era, where our animal companions veer from traditions of the past by behaving in a way best described as canine, which anyone with small dogs understands as doom to carpets. And, just for the record, we built a fence for their personal safety which they eschew on a regular basis in the name of discovery. (If you discover them wandering around outside of my yard, smelling stuff, please let me know. My neighbor is understandably wearying of this unasked for position and I will be auditioning for the role...and for handyman too.)

The changing of the guard contributed to the next decorating phase, the fatal blow being when my 15-year-old carpet began to show signs of wear in the form of an unsightly two foot tear in the middle of the room. To be fair, there had been some warning signs before the rupture. The cream colored carpet with faint ecru leaf patterns which I had purchased whilst in a coma, (the only reasonable explanation, given that I had a large dog and a small son at the time and the carpet was the first floor covering encountered as one arrived through my back door,) was feeling the effects of time. My lightly sprinkled leaf pattern began to look like large dog and a small son had taken a running jump into the dainty leaf pile, scattering the leaves to the outside of the room and leaving in their wake, a large empty space made mostly of dirt.

We decided, since we were going to re-floor, we might as well re-paint, dispensing of the brick in the same fell swoop. So, over the last six weeks or so, I've lived with hubbub, hurly-burly, hullabaloo and all of their friends as we change the look of out family room/den/the back room. As I write, burly men, (hurly-burly? A coincidence? I think not.) are finishing the project as I take refuge in my bedroom. The head burly man disapproved of my flooring, so I am multi-tasking by pouting, working, wrestling a virus and hoping my dog doesn't upchuck just to prove a point about tumult, all from the confines of my bed. This may seem exciting and intimidating, especially to those of you who work for a living, but believe me, I am counting the days until I can rest easy on my couch with the fireplace at full blast and no burly men, either hammering the floor or hanging silently from windows in, (please wait as I check antonyms,) calm, order and peace.