Illinois had the first aquarium built in Chicago. The very first

When Brad Schneider declared, “Illinois had the first aquarium built in Chicago. The very first skyscraper in the entire world was built in Chicago in 1885. The tallest building in North America, formerly the Sears Tower, now Willis Tower, is in Chicago. Evanston, home to Northwestern, is also home to the ice cream sundae. Illinois has a lot to be proud of,” he spoke as both a statesman and a steward of memory. Beneath the surface of civic pride lies a deeper message — one about innovation, resilience, and the enduring human spirit that dares to build upward and dream beyond the horizon. Schneider’s words remind us that a place is not defined by its geography, but by the courage and imagination of those who dwell within it.

The origin of this reflection comes from the history of Illinois — particularly the city of Chicago, a place that rose, quite literally, from the ashes. The Great Chicago Fire of 1871 destroyed nearly the entire heart of the city. Yet, from ruin came rebirth. Where others saw devastation, the people of Chicago saw possibility. Within a generation, they built the world’s first skyscraper, the Home Insurance Building of 1885 — a bold tower of steel that would forever change the face of modern architecture. From this moment onward, the city stood as a symbol of humanity’s refusal to be defeated, an emblem of what can be achieved when vision conquers despair.

To the ancients, such a story would have been sung as an epic — the tale of a phoenix rising from its own ashes. The skyscraper, like a modern monument of courage, embodied what ancient temples once expressed: mankind’s eternal aspiration to reach toward the heavens. The Egyptians had their pyramids, the Greeks their marble columns, and the builders of Chicago their towers of glass and steel. Each structure stood as a bridge between earth and sky, between what was and what could be. Schneider, in invoking this heritage, reminds us that the spirit of Illinois is not passive; it is creative, daring, and deeply human — the same flame that built civilizations now burns within the heart of the Midwest.

The mention of the aquarium and the ice cream sundae may seem lighthearted beside the grandeur of skyscrapers, yet there is wisdom even there. For a civilization’s greatness is not measured by its towers alone, but by its ability to nourish wonder and joy. The first public aquarium, built in Chicago, invited people to gaze upon the mysteries of the deep — to be reminded of the vastness of life beyond their own. The invention of the ice cream sundae, born in Evanston, gave sweetness to ordinary days, turning simplicity into delight. These creations, small though they may seem, speak of a people who knew how to blend imagination and humanity, achievement and warmth.

In every age, there are lands that stand as mirrors to the soul of humankind. Illinois, with its soaring towers and humble inventions, is such a place. It reflects both ambition and heart — the intellect that builds and the spirit that cherishes. The Willis Tower, once the Sears Tower, pierces the clouds not as a monument to one man, but as a testament to what many hands and minds can achieve when united by purpose. It is a reminder that progress, when rooted in community, becomes eternal. Like the cathedrals of old, such landmarks speak not only of engineering but of faith in the future — faith that the human spirit can always rise higher.

There is also a moral truth woven through Schneider’s pride. It teaches us that to honor one’s homeland is to honor the collective spirit of creation that dwells within it. Every place — be it a vast city or a small town — holds the potential for greatness when its people act with integrity, curiosity, and courage. Illinois, through its history, has shown that innovation does not belong only to empires or kings, but to ordinary citizens who believe that progress is their shared inheritance. From the architects who forged new skylines to the dreamers who invented joy in a bowl of ice cream, each act of creation becomes a thread in the great tapestry of human achievement.

The lesson, then, is timeless: celebrate where you come from, but let it inspire you to build further. Just as Illinois rose from fire and flourished in creation, so too can every person transform hardship into innovation. Let your pride be not in what has been done, but in what can yet be dreamed. Build skyscrapers not only of steel but of compassion, wisdom, and unity. Create, as your forebears did, things that lift the spirit and better the world. For in doing so, you honor not just your home, but the ancient and noble lineage of builders, thinkers, and dreamers who shaped all of civilization.

Thus, when Brad Schneider says, “Illinois has a lot to be proud of,” he speaks not only for a state, but for all who labor with love for their homeland. His words carry the rhythm of an ancient truth — that pride in one’s roots, when tempered by humility and service, becomes the foundation of greatness. Let us remember that every home, like Illinois, can become a beacon of possibility. And when we build — whether in stone, steel, or spirit — may we build not only for ourselves, but for the generations yet to rise from our soil, to look up at what we have made, and to say, “They dreamed, and because they dreamed, we live.”