For as long as she can remember, Shirley Flaherty has loved old things.

That’s what drew her attention to a Sun-Times article back in March of 1988 about a sale of furniture in the once magnificent Aurora Hotel.

Built in 1917 as a grand hostelry that drew a who’s-who list of visitors in its heyday, it was scheduled for renovation after sitting empty for 15 years. And for $12, Flaherty came to Aurora and purchased one of its available desks, which still occupies a favorite room in her historic home on Downer Place.

As we sat in the 92-year-old woman’s spacious restaurant-inspired kitchen she remodeled mostly with her own hands, Flaherty recalls that moment when she saw the potential of this gorgeous piece of walnut furniture. And that also brings back memories of that moment – about four months later – when she saw Aurora itself as something special, and a place she wanted to call home.

A newly-divorced and struggling mother of two adult children at the time, she was interested in a building for a jewelry business she wanted to open, and decided to make a return trip to the City of Lights.

“I drove down at midnight and stood on the (spider-covered) bridge” overlooking a downtown so empty “you could have fired a cannon in all directions.”

Flaherty remembers “nobody was there but me and a drunk,” who got thrown out of The Cove, a basement pub downtown. And yet, gazing out on the Fox River and taking in the streetscapes of those old but beautiful buildings, she not only saw a “diamond in the rough,” but a downtown unlike almost any other place in Illinois.

And so, Flaherty came “back in the daytime” and told the Realtor she’d been working with “I want to invest.”

While drawn to LaSalle Street, which still featured unique architectural facades because “it had fallen out of favor with developers,” she decided to put her money in the Downer Place property where she still lives. Flaherty began renovating her lovingly-described “money pit” into a historic showplace, taking down walls with an axe, replastering, painting, varnishing and “whatever else needed to be done,” she told me.

Flaherty, however, never lost interest in those old commercial buildings. A couple years later she did buy property on LaSalle Street, although she never opened the jewelry store. She also became a real estate broker, and for 25 years commuted to Chicago, where she worked as the pension administrator for Electrical Workers Union Local 1139.

Flaherty always kept a close eye on the Aurora Hotel, however, which had become a dilapidated building, damaged by water leaks and flocks of pigeons that had made the abandoned building their home.

Again, Flaherty saw a diamond in the rough. And so she helped form the small but passionate Citizens to Save the Aurora Hotel, which turned out to be quite a roller coaster – as is evident from the headlines of the many newspaper articles she saved over the years.

“Whiplash” is the word she uses to describe what this grassroots group went through. In 1995 alone, the fate of the old hotel went from doubtful to hopeful to doubtful time and time again.

For example, at one point a news article declared Hollywood Casino was going to save the day, followed by a headline that announced “hotel may be leveled.”

Then came “Hotel closer to an agreement.”

Then came a January 1996 article claiming the city voted to give $1 million to the project, followed by another that announced the offer was rescinded.

“Every day we would have to get the newspaper to see what was going on,” said Flaherty, also recalling a critical meeting with Mayor David Pierce, who told the group he would get behind their efforts if there was support from Aurora residents.

And so, Citizens to Save the Aurora Hotel, which also included Al Signorelli, Charlie Zine and Barb and Doretta Bates, put together a community blitz. They wrote letters to the editor, hung door signs, handed out buttons, gathered petitions, ran a cut–and-save newspaper ad, spoke to residents and civic groups. And perhaps most importantly, they produced fact-backed research that showed historic preservation is more than saving old buildings, it is an economic engine.

“It was educating the public that made the difference,” said former urban planner and city executive Karen Christensen, adding that Shirley’s importance came from her persistence and willingness to work behind the scenes.

“When she puts her mind to something,” said son Kevin Flaherty, “you better stay out of the way.”

Others agreed. Because of her white hair and diminutive stature she was often underestimated, recalled Zine, who described his colleague “as a tough act to follow” because of how articulate, organized and passionate she was when speaking to City Council. Plus, she’d done so much thorough research on the financial benefits of saving the building, he added, it became harder for skeptics to argue against this project.

“I was known as the mouth,” Flaherty said with a smile. “My specialty was getting in people’s faces … others were much nicer.”

Signorelli described her as “tough and smart.”

“Feisty” was the word used by Zine, who recalled how Flaherty was “willing to tie herself to the building” at one point in a show of support. Luckily that protest, covered by The Beacon-News and the Chicago Tribune, didn’t require such drastic action, he noted, “but that’s how far Shirley would have gone.”

She showed city officials it was important to “slow down and look at the big picture,” he told me. “They listened to her and she used it to our advantage.”

In the end, as one headline proclaimed, the hotel that was a “whisper away from the wrecking ball” was saved thanks to the work of “tireless citizens.” Even then, the project barely squeaked by City Council, with Pierce supplying part of the nine-vote super majority required for the deal that had been scaled back to a $550,000 loan.

There’s no question this project – once denounced by an alderman who did not want to see a bunch of old people sitting in lawn chairs in downtown Aurora – was a success. Flaherty, Signorelli and Zine all give credit to Jan Mangers, Aurora’s director of the Preservation Department at the time, for pulling in successful developer Harold Ryder, who stayed on track financially and time-wise, and added his own touches when renovating the hotel into the North Island Apartments because he believed in what he was doing.

In April of 1998, the Historical Society held a party in the beautifully-restored foyer that included exquisite black walnut woodwork, found under layers of wallpaper and paint, and pink Tennessee marble floors, discovered beneath yellowed linoleum.

Flaherty was not invited. But she celebrated anyway, knowing her grassroots group had made a lasting mark. As Zine pointed out, instead of this property being leveled and turned into open land, as was the plan, North Island Apartments is now fully-occupied affordable senior housing, adding much-needed density to downtown. And over time, as these preservationists noted, old-time Aurorans became interested in their downtown again.

“It got easier to save old buildings as the public and politicians realized the benefits,” said Zine, who sits on the city’s Preservation Commission and is a member of its Design Review and Downtown Foxwalk committees.

Indeed, the city is on a preservation roll, with renovations (and new life) that include the Leland Tower, Graham and Elks (now Mayan) buildings, as well as the Hobbs, Keystone and Terminal buildings.

Most recently, Aurora City Council approved a developer’s plan to rehab the historic Galena Hotel, built in 1862 and one of the city’s oldest, into micro-unit apartments, a new concept for the city.

“What is so wonderful now is that much of the development has been almost entirely in historic buildings,” said Signorelli, who is on the city’s Preservation Commission. “Because of all this, more people who did not put too much importance in our historic fabric now look at it and say, ‘that’s pretty nice.’”

Flaherty continued on a roll, as well. A few years after North Island Apartments opened, she organized Friends of LaSalle Street Historic Auto Row. For 10 years this group put on auto shows, rented out the street and did “all we could to publicize” this unique block once part of Lincoln Highway.

Those efforts, she told me, helped transform the former red-light district into an area thriving with professional businesses that range from a tea room to an engraving service to a multimedia studio to a state senator’s office.

Flaherty also served on the Preservation Commission for two terms, did research for the Landmark Committee and sat on the Aurora Downtown Board. And she’s mighty proud of chairing the committee that helped do away with one-way streets and parking meters in the city’s downtown.

Flaherty doesn’t go there all that much anymore. She still has plenty of spunk, but life is quieter now, and she remains hesitant about putting her name out there. As son Kevin told me, “she’s not one to run to the front and take credit.”

Still, as we sifted through news articles and other memorabilia that chronicled this roller coaster ride, Flaherty’s pride in a job well done was obvious.

“It was like pushing a boulder up a hill … a group of people decided to push,” she told me. “I always think I’m glad I did it … all our jobs are to care about the community and the people in it.”

dcrosby@tribpub.com