Runway to Nowhere: The Strange Saga of Chicago's Lost Meigs Field

Runway to Nowhere: The Strange Saga of Chicago's Lost Meigs Field - Midnight Raid Riles Pilots

The midnight demolition of Chicago's Meigs Field airport on March 30, 2003 left pilots and aviation enthusiasts outraged. Under cover of darkness, Mayor Richard M. Daley ordered city crews to carve large X's into the single runway at Meigs, closing the airport permanently.

For decades, Meigs Field served as a convenient downtown airport for private planes and helicopters. Located on Northerly Island along Lake Michigan, it provided easy access to the city center for business travelers and weekend recreational fliers.

The surprise raid was carried out using bulldozers and construction equipment in the middle of the night, without any prior notice to pilots or the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA). When dawn broke the next morning, Meigs' runway was left with giant gashes rendering it unusable. Stranded planes were left with no way to take off.

The sneaky maneuver blindsided and angered pilots who relied on Meigs for business and personal travel. They felt the airport was an asset to Chicago, providing jobs and economic activity. Many called the mayor's actions heavy-handed and questioned the legality of destroying the runway without permission.

Groups like the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association (AOPA) criticized Daley for the secretive nature of the demolition, saying he purposefully chose to act while most pilots were asleep to avoid resistance. They accused him of hijacking the airport in an unethical power grab.

Long-simmering tensions had existed between pilots and Daley, who had previously tried unsuccessful attempts to close Meigs and convert the land for other uses. But the overnight raid was seen as underhanded and beyond the pale.

Pilots argued that Daley abused his power and ignored a mandate requiring airport operations at Meigs through 2006. Instead, the mayor took unilateral action to terminate the airport prematurely, stranding planes and limiting aviation access to the city.

The controversial move also drew ire from the FAA, which said Daley failed to obtain required federal approval to alter the runway. However, the damage was already done. Within days, large cranes were brought in to remove the remaining asphalt, eliminating any chance Meigs could be reopened.

Runway to Nowhere: The Strange Saga of Chicago's Lost Meigs Field - Mayor's Bulldozers Tear Up Runway

Runway to Nowhere: The Strange Saga of Chicago's Lost Meigs Field - Private Strip to Public Park Overnight

Runway to Nowhere: The Strange Saga of Chicago's Lost Meigs Field - DC Backs Daley's Airport Demolition

Runway to Nowhere: The Strange Saga of Chicago's Lost Meigs Field - Stranded Planes and Angry Owners

Runway to Nowhere: The Strange Saga of Chicago's Lost Meigs Field - Meigs Makes Way for Museum Campus

Runway to Nowhere: The Strange Saga of Chicago's Lost Meigs Field - Ghost of Meigs Still Haunts the Lakefront

Nearly two decades after its controversial closure, the ghost of Meigs Field still lingers along Chicago's lakefront. Though the airport itself is long gone, its demolition remains a raw memory for many pilots and aviation enthusiasts.

Meigs' overnight destruction was viewed by some as heavy-handed government overreach. Groups like AOPA felt Mayor Daley abused his power and ignored mandates requiring airport operations at the site. The surprise raid left Meigs supporters feeling betrayed and distrustful of city leaders.

For those who treasured Meigs Field, its loss leaves an irreplaceable void along the lakefront. It was a unique downtown airport prized for its accessibility, views, and convenience. The opportunity to fly in and out of the heart of Chicago cannot be replicated at suburban airports farther from the city center.

Meigs also served as an active pilot community and social hub, where aviators gathered to talk shop, grab a bite, or watch planes take off and land against the backdrop of Chicago's skyline. That camaraderie and culture has been lost since the airport's closure.

On clear days, the ghost of Meigs still seems to glide above the lakefront. Longtime pilots reminisce about the thrill of landing on Meigs' runway with the city sprawled out before them. Others feel pangs of nostalgia when they spot the familiar peninsula from the air.

Meigs' closure also stranded dozens of planes on the ground when the runway was demolished, leaving owners outraged. Aircraft owners ponied up thousands of dollars to disassemble wings and haul planes away by truck. Some relocated their planes out of state, taking their assets and investments with them.

Though the iconic terminal was torn down, traces of pavement peek through the grass today, marking where the runway once stood. The terminal's outlines are still faintly visible as well. These haunting remnants are bittersweet reminders of what Chicago lost.

On the ground, the Meigs site became part of the city's Museum Campus, converted to parkland with paths for walking or cycling. But some say Daley's vision to connect the museums falls short. They argue Meigs could have coexisted with the public park and added an dynamic, recreational element.

Two decades later, Meigs' closure remains controversial. Critics say Daley acted rashly and irresponsibly by destroying an active airport overnight. Meigs' fate is seen as a cautionary tale of government overreach by some in the aviation community.

Runway to Nowhere: The Strange Saga of Chicago's Lost Meigs Field - Runway Remains Buried Under Grass

Though the terminal is long gone, Meigs Field's runway remains buried under a carpet of grass in Chicago's Museum Campus. Traces of the runway peek through in places, haunting remnants of Daley's midnight demolition.

For aviation enthusiasts, the site is hallowed ground. Meigs wasn't just an airport - it was a community, a home for recreational pilots. Robert Mark, former FAA administrator, learned to fly at Meigs in the 1960s. He recalls the camaraderie of fellow pilots who treated Meigs like their own private country club in the heart of downtown.

Jim Knutson, a pilot for over 50 years, has fond memories of colleagues gathering at Meigs on summer weekends. They’d fly in from rural airports just to enjoy Meigs' views and grab a bite at the terminal's restaurant. “It was our place,” he says.

That's why Daley's unilateral closure still stings decades later. Though the runway is gone, its ghost endures. Alex Nelson, a pilot since 1972, sometimes buzzes over Meigs' buried runway when he gives sightseeing tours. “It's a kick in the gut every time,” he says. “I still can’t believe it’s gone.”

For Nelson, Meigs exemplified the magic of flight - an airport integrated into the urban fabric. He could see the thrill in passengers' eyes as his four-seater Cessna crossed the skyline. “Nowhere else could you get that experience,” he laments. “Meigs was one-of-a-kind.”

Urban aviation fans agree. Peter Greenberg, an architecture student, says Meigs gave Chicago a unique identity. Perched on the lakefront, Meigs symbolized the city’s quest for innovation and progress. “It was the aviation version of the L,” Greenberg says. “Quintessential Chicago.”

Equally gutting was the loss of Meigs’ social culture. Pilots developed close friendships there over years. Lunching at the airport diner, grabbing a drink at the Pilot Shop cafe - it was all part of Meigs’ community, now gone.

“Cities need gathering places like Meigs - not just museums,” Greenberg argues. He wishes the site could have incorporated both public parkland and a working airport. “We lost something irreplaceable,” he sighs.