One of the First Sears Kit Homes: a No. 52 in Palatine

38 W. Robertson St., Palatine.

Sears No. 52 house, from the very first 1908 Modern Homes catalog.

The No. 52 in Palatine is an incredibly rare example of a concrete block house from Sears Roebuck.  It is one of the earliest homes offered in Sears’ first mail-order catalog in 1908, and the model was sold for six years, from 1908 to 1914.

Around the turn of the century, concrete block was the trendy new material for ambitious homeowners. Rock‑face molds gave these houses the appearance of cut stone at a fraction of the cost. The fad collapsed around World War I, which explains why Sears discontinued the No. 52 and other concrete block models during this period.

While Sears sold fewer building materials with concrete block homes than with traditional frame houses, they still supplied the block-making machines along with millwork, finishing lumber, roofing, pipes, gutters, windows, doors, paint, and lath, among other items.

The living room bay window in the catalog illustration is still there on the left side behind the enclosed porch.

The right side of the house matches the floor plan exactly.

One of the most intriguing questions surrounding the Palatine No. 52 is whether it is among the earliest Sears houses ever built--or even the first!

The model dates to 1908, the very first year Sears offered kit homes. Sales were modest in those early years. (By 1912, Sears reported selling just 1,340 homes total.) Only a handful of houses from 1908 and 1909 have been identified nationwide, making surviving examples like the Palatine No. 52 especially significant.

Cook County records list the house as being built in 1913, but I believe it was built a few years earlier.

The 1910 census appears to place a cement worker, John W. Vogt, living on this lot with his wife, Mary, though they were listed as renters. Although street numbers were not yet in use, neighboring households help pinpoint the location. Given his occupation, it raises the question: could Vogt have been involved in constructing the No. 52?

If the Vogts were in the house by April 1910, construction occurred in 1908, 1909, or early 1910. These dates align with the model’s availability, and it would make the Palatine house among the earliest Sears homes in the Chicago area, where the earliest documented examples date back to 1909.

I believe the Vogts lived in the house until around 1923, when the house was then occupied by Otto and Clara Schroeder, who would become long-term owners. Otto remained in the home until his death in 1958, and Clara continued living there until 1962, when she sold the property.

That year, the house entered a new chapter when it was purchased by the family of Jane Prochnow. Jane, who grew up in the house, has shared both her memories and interior photos—and she still lives in the home today.

The front door leads into an entry hall. 

There is the bay window in the living room, and a colonnade separates the dining room. 

There is a formal dining room, and the swinging door leads to the kitchen. 

Work in the kitchen reveals green flooring and pink tile. 

More evidence may still be out there on the original owners and the year of construction. Early Sears homes are difficult to document. If you have information about this Palatine house, I’d love to hear from you.

The Sears No. 2069 That Survived Chicago Heights’ Gangland Era

333 W. 16th St., Chicago Heights, discovered by researcher Matthew Hendrickson.

The Sears model No. 2069 was a striking Craftsman bungalow designed by Henry Lawrence Wilson.

This is an unusual Sears house in Chicago Heights. It has the floor plan of the Sears No. 2069 house, and the sides all match up. However, the front of the house differs from the catalog illustration. The dormer has an extra window, the fenestration is wrong on the first floor. The front porch has been rebuilt and the original front door replaced. The low-pitched roofline matches the catalog and the house has original decorative five-piece brackets from Sears.

Another curious detail is that the No. 2069 was only sold until 1923, yet this house was built in 1927 — as confirmed by contemporary news reports. This is uncommon, but there have been instances where a customer requested a discontinued Sears model.

Let's take a closer look.

The No. 2069 featured a distinctive floor plan. There originally was a separate mantel nook in the living room with seating. There were beamed ceilings in the dining room and a built-in buffet and a window seat. In the rear there was an enclosed sleeping porch.

The No. 2069 had an unusual window configuration on the side with the dining room. A new front porch was added in 2023, which further distinguishes the home from its catalog counterpart.

The rear of the house matches the floor plan, including the side porch.

The dining room is separated from the living room by a colonnade. It still has the original coffered ceilings.

The original owners were Carl L. Fiedler and his wife, Rosa, who moved into their new house in the summer of 1927. 

Chicago Heights: A City in Turmoil
When the Fiedlers settled into their new Sears home, Chicago Heights was far from a tranquil suburb. The city was in the grip of Prohibition-era violence. Sicilian gangs controlled illegal distilleries and liquor distribution, gambling, vice operations, and extortion rackets across the South suburbs.

By 1926, Chicago Heights had become a battleground for rival factions. The city became the site of dozens of murders tied to organized crime. Even the police were not safe — the police chief of neighboring South Chicago Heights, LeRoy Gilbert, was murdered during this violent period when someone fired a sawed-off shotgun into his living room. 

Al Capone himself reportedly supervised operations in Chicago Heights, ensuring that his allies held key local offices. 

A House Under Fire
Meanwhile, Carl was a local realtor and active in city politics — outspoken, civic-minded, and never afraid of controversy. Newspaper accounts suggest he was something of a civic gadfly, filing lawsuits against taxing bodies and even challenging the legality of local ballots. At one point, after he was slapped and kicked by a city official, he sued the city of Chicago Heights for $100,000. He served as president of the Seventh Ward Improvement Association and was involved with the Better Government Association. Those roles often placed him at odds with local officials during a time when Chicago Heights politics were deeply entangled with organized crime and corruption.

In fact, Carl’s activism nearly cost him his life.

In the early hours of August 24, 1927, the Fiedlers’ new home was shattered by gunfire. According to a front-page article in The Chicago Heights Star, two shotgun blasts were fired through the bedroom window of the Fiedler home while Carl and Rosa slept.

The slugs, likely fired from two separate guns, missed the couple by only a few feet. One blast tore through the lower pane of the window at the foot of their bed, passed through heavily insulated walls, and smashed into a dining room picture. The second shot pierced the upper pane of the window, cut through plaster and lath, and blew holes in the bedroom closets. Buckshot and broken glass were scattered throughout the bedroom and dining room.

Police found that the shells were made from flattened buckshot — the type commonly used in gangster warfare.

Carl reported hearing two men running down the street moments after the attack, jumping into a car that sped away. Although the police searched the area, no arrests were made.

When reporters asked Carl whether he believed the shooting was meant to intimidate him, he responded with characteristic defiance:

“Well, you know whom I’ve been exposing,” he told them. 

“Do you think that I would endanger the lives of those in my household as a publicity stunt? I am certain the attack was meant to kill me, and the only fear I experienced was for the safety of my wife. I know who is responsible for it, but I refuse to be intimidated.”

The story perfectly captured the dangerous political climate of Chicago Heights in 1927.

National newspapers described the city as “Seething in bloodshed, site of a hundred gang murders,  a cauldron of rum-running, bootlegging, distilling, and home-brewing, a city hopelessly enmeshed in gangster activities...." The federal government eventually stepped in. In 1929, agents raided the town, destroying stills and illegal slot machines, arresting (or deporting) scores of mobsters, and even uncovering corruption within the Cook County government. 

Life After the Shooting
Despite the violence, Carl and Rosa continued to live in the house. Carl remained active in public affairs.

 Carl died in 1935 from heart disease. Interestingly his obituary included the cause of death, perhaps to quiet speculation after his turbulent public life. Rosa stayed in the home for several more years, dying in 1944 at the age of 75, closing the chapter on the Fiedler family’s long residence.

Legacy of Resilience
The juxtaposition of a peaceful family home against a backdrop of crime and violence is striking. Nearly a hundred years later, the No. 2069 remains a survivor.

Copyright Disclaimer: All photographs in this post (unless otherwise noted) are from real estate aggregate Redfin.com and are used in this post for the purposes of education, consistent with 17 USC §107.

The Luckiest Boy in Pittsburgh

In the depths of the Great Depression, a 16-year-old Pittsburgh boy named Alfred Hardtmayer Jr. won something extraordinary.

It was the summer of 1932, and Alfred had entered a promotional contest sponsored by the Warner Bros. Picture Corporation. The grand prize was a brand-new Tudor-style "Dream Home" built by Sears Roebuck. It came complete with furniture, appliances, and all the modern comforts of the day. A new eight-cylinder Ford waited in the garage, and a local grocery store supplied a month’s worth of provisions.

An ad in the local newspaper promoting the new house built and furnished by Sears.

Sears mentioned the Dream Home in its Modern Homes catalog.

The official presentation took place on stage at the Stanley Theater in downtown Pittsburgh. Rosey Rowswell, the beloved voice of Pittsburgh baseball, made the announcement as the crowd cheered. Alfred and his parents were then whisked to their new house on Seminole Drive, where the press captured the story of the calm young man who had just won an incredible prize.

Rowswell (left) presents Alfred with the house key.

Alfred said that he was "the luckiest boy in Pittsburgh", and added, "I'll take the car, Mother, and you and Dad can have the house.”

The Hardtmayer family poses for photos in the family room (what Sears called the playroom) as the press captured the moment.

The Dream Home shortly after Alfred won it. The new car in the garage was most likely the legendary Ford Model 18. 

142 Seminole Drive, Pittsburgh, as it looks today.

The rear of the house. There was a small terrace on the right side.

The rear of the house today.

The house itself was a showcase of modern design and comfort, carefully planned to appeal to middle-class families during the Depression. Sears highlighted the efficient layout, abundant light, and practical conveniences.

A large, sunny playroom with beamed ceilings is adjacent to the front door. This is the same room where the Hardtmayers posed for the newspaper photo shown above. While the fireplace brick has since been painted white, the original wood paneling remains.

A Family Home for Decades
After the theater celebration faded from the headlines, life moved along. The Hardtmayers settled into their new home, and just three years later, Alfred — now 19 — took over the property when his parents moved to Cleveland.

Alfred attended Penn State University, majoring in mechanical engineering. It was there he met Helen, who would become his wife in 1938.  Alfred soon began his career with U.S. Steel Corporation, rising through the ranks to become chief plant engineer.

The house remained at the heart of the Hardtmayer family’s story for nearly half a century. Alfred and Helen raised their two children, Douglas and Phyllis, there.

In 1973, Alfred and Helen moved to Daytona Beach, Florida, while Douglas remained in the Pittsburgh house. Douglas eventually sold the property in 1978, ending 46 years of family ownership. Alfred passed away of cancer two years later, in 1980, at age 63.

A Lasting Reminder
Nearly a century later, the Tudor still stands, a reminder of a long-ago contest and one boy’s improbable good fortune.

If you think the Dream Home contest was something… wait until you learn about the Sears Home Beautiful Contest!

Copyright Disclaimer: All photographs in this post (unless otherwise noted) are from real estate aggregate Redfin.com and are used in this post for the purposes of education, consistent with 17 USC §107.