The Baron of Wrigleyville has a catbird seat
Baseball People - Folks who make the game go
George Loukas is a Greek immigrant who's living and loving an American baseball dream.Skip to next paragraph
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You see, Mr. Loukas is the owner of what almost every committed Chicago Cubs fan (and there are quite a few in this city) dreams of owning: a building across the street from Wrigley Field with a rooftop view of one of the nation's grandest old ballparks.
Now, these aren't those peer-through-a-telescope kind of views. Standing on one of these rooftops, you're practically sharing right field with Sammy Sosa.
People are willing to pay a lot to be here on game day.
During just about every Cubs game, the rooftops around Wrigley are packed with folks who've paid as much as $75 each to munch, mingle, and schmooze - and cheer a little for the Cubs while they're at it. Actually, it's often their companies who are footing the bill - firms like Lehman Brothers, Motorola, and Ameritech.
Loukas owns two of these properties and manages a third. He bought his first one in 1974, when he and his brother paid $150,000 for a 16-unit building near the corner of Sheffield and Waveland Avenues - just over Wrigley's left-center-field fence.
That was back when a two-bedroom apartment went for between $80 and $100 a month. Now they fetch about $1,300.
And what's the building worth today?
"A lot," Loukas says with a flick of an eyebrow and a smile.
In all, Loukas now owns 16 properties, including parking lots and rooftop-view buildings, in the area, which real estate agents call "Wrigleyville."
In fact, you could call Loukas the Baron of Wrigleyville. Spend an afternoon walking around the neighborhood with him, and you'll see why.
"Hiyah, George," people croon as he walks by. "Hey, George, how yah doin'?"
Climbing to Cubbie heaven
One day last week, two classmates of his sixth-grade daughter, Jonathan Jacobson and Josh Nacey with parents in tow, stopped by to see Loukas just before the game. And they got what they came for - an invitation up onto one of the roofs.
As the boys and their parents buzz with delight, Loukas leads them through the crowds of poor souls who'll have to watch the game from the ballpark.
Down Waveland Avenue they tromp, around the back of No. 1034, through an unlocked chain-link gate, across a few backyard mud puddles, up some well-used stairs, past a couple of burly bouncers, and into Cubbie heaven.
Hovering above the building's tar-paper top is a sturdy-but-worn wooden deck. None of the angles are quite right. But that adds to the charm.
There's a kind of double-wide outhouse for guests perched on the back of the roof. A monster grill bellows smoke as it browns burgers and bratwursts.
As the boys come around the front of the aluminum bleachers, they gawk with joy. There's Wrigley Field, practically close enough to pinch.
It's a good thing they brought their baseball gloves: Sammy Sosa has been known to hit home runs right onto the rooftops. (He broke one of this building's first-floor windows with a homer two years ago.)
"I've been really blessed," says Loukas, "and I try to share it with my friends."
Today's paying customers are a group of workers and their friends from a suburban engineering firm.