Why This Matters
Memories fade fast. Even stuff from 5 years ago—once they tear a building down, you can't remember what was there. And the people who remember the 1920s through 1940s? They're gone. Nobody alive anymore who was in their twenties or thirties during that massive building boom. Their stories went with them.
Unless we document this now, it disappears.
You Don't Need to Be a History Buff
I'm not a history buff. I don't really care about World War I or World War II. But the history of the buildings we walk in and out of every day? That matters. That's personal.
The bar you went to when you were 21, 30 years ago. The drugstore your grandfather told you about. The restaurant where you took your first date. These aren't academic historical topics—they're your life, your memories, your connection to this place.
When you drive by a building and wonder "what used to be there?"—that's not nostalgia. That's curiosity about the place you live. And those answers are disappearing.
What We're Losing
When I was researching Lamplighter, I discovered there were shootings there in the twenties or fifties. You walk in there now and have no idea. How much history like that is already lost because nobody wrote it down?
In 50 years, the people who remember the 1970s Palatine will be gone. Their memories of the businesses they shopped at, the bars they hung out in, the way downtown looked—gone unless someone documents it.
And it's not just the distant past. Business owners have passed away in the last 5 years whose knowledge of their stores is just... gone. Photos get thrown out during estate sales. Buildings get demolished without anyone recording what they were.
The Problem We're Solving: Try asking the "I Grew Up in Palatine, Get Over It" Facebook group where the White House bar was. You'll get 47 comments mentioning 10 different bars with conflicting dates and no clear answer. The information exists—it's just fragmented, scattered, and disappearing.
It's Personal History
You remember your grandfather telling you a story about a place. Now imagine being able to click on it and see a picture of it. Where in the past he had a memory or imagination of what it was, you can see the actual building, the actual storefront, what it really looked like.
That first bar you went to when you were 21—it's probably gone now. Wouldn't you want to see what it looked like? Show your kids? Tell them stories about it with actual photos to back them up?
This isn't about preserving history for historians. It's about preserving YOUR history. The places that meant something to you, to your family, to your community.
For Future Generations
Fifty years from now, people will wonder about our era the same way we wonder about the 1950s. The photos we take today, the businesses we document now—these become the precious sources future residents will treasure.
We inherited knowledge from those before us. We know what existed, who built it, how communities developed because previous generations documented it. We have the same responsibility to pass it forward.
Why I'm Building This
I'm building When It Was because I got tired of not being able to answer a simple question: "What used to be there?" And because I'm afraid this information is just going to disappear if something doesn't get done.
Every day that goes by without documentation means more history lost. More elderly residents passing away with their memories. More photos thrown out. More buildings demolished without record.
That's why this can't wait. That's why I need your help.
What You Can Do: If you remember old Palatine businesses—add them. If you have photos from the 60s, 70s, 80s—upload them. Even if you're not sure of exact dates, that's okay. Approximate is better than nothing. Your memory, your photo, your story might be the only record that survives.