It is weird to drive down Gregory Street these days. For over a century, the massive brick presence of St Francis Hospital Blue Island—later known as MetroSouth Medical Center—was basically the heartbeat of the south suburbs. It wasn't just a place where you went for a broken arm or a flu shot. It was where half the town was born. It was the largest employer for miles. Then, almost overnight in 2019, the lights went out.
The story of this hospital is honestly a masterclass in the messy, often frustrating reality of American healthcare economics.
The Rise and Fall of a Community Anchor
St. Francis wasn't always a corporate entity. It started back in 1905, founded by the Sisters of St. Mary. Back then, Blue Island was a booming rail hub, and the sisters saw a desperate need for care among the workers and their families. For decades, it thrived. By the time it hit its peak, the facility had hundreds of beds and a Level II trauma center that kept people alive in a region where every second counts.
But things started to shift.
Healthcare became a business of margins. In 2008, the Sisters of St. Mary (SSM Health) sold the hospital to Transition Healthcare Company. It was rebranded as MetroSouth Medical Center. This was a turning point. You’ve got to understand that when a Catholic non-profit sells to a for-profit group, the "mission" often gets tangled up in "profitability."
It didn't last. By 2012, Community Health Systems (CHS), a massive Tennessee-based giant, bought the place. CHS is one of those companies that owns dozens of hospitals across the country. To them, St Francis Hospital Blue Island was a line item. And the numbers weren't looking great. The hospital served a high percentage of patients on Medicaid or Medicare, which, quite frankly, don't reimburse at the same rates as private insurance.
Why the Doors Actually Closed
People often ask why a busy hospital would just shut down. MetroSouth was seeing tens of thousands of ER visits a year. The beds weren't empty.
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The reality is that "busy" doesn't always mean "profitable" in the modern medical landscape. Quorum Health, a spin-off from CHS that eventually took over ownership, claimed the hospital was losing millions of dollars every month. They cited "declining inpatient volume" and the age of the facility. It's a tough pill to swallow. If you live in Blue Island or Robbins or Calumet Park, that hospital was your safety net.
When Quorum announced the closure in 2019, it sparked a massive legal and political battle. The City of Blue Island fought it. Local doctors fought it. They argued that closing a trauma center in an underserved area was a death sentence for the community. The Illinois Health Facilities and Services Review Board originally denied the request to close, but eventually, the economic pressure won out. The hospital officially shut its doors in the fall of 2019.
Then came the twist.
Six months after the hospital closed, COVID-19 hit. Suddenly, the state of Illinois was scrambling for beds. Governor J.B. Pritzker’s administration spent millions to temporarily reopen parts of the old St Francis Hospital Blue Island site as an alternate care facility. It was a bizarre, ghost-town revival. It proved the point that the community had been making all along: we need these beds.
The Current State of the Site
If you walk past 12935 Gregory St today, it’s a complicated sight. It isn't a hospital anymore. After the temporary COVID-19 use ended, the building went back into a sort of limbo.
There has been constant chatter about redevelopment. Some people wanted it to become a behavioral health center. Others hoped for a "micro-hospital" or a specialized surgical center. For a while, there was talk of a massive mixed-use project that would include veteran housing and outpatient services.
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Honestly, the biggest hurdle is the building itself. Medical technology moves fast. A wing built in 1950 or 1970 requires a staggering amount of money to bring up to modern surgical standards. As of now, the site remains a symbol of what's missing. When St Francis Hospital Blue Island closed, it didn't just take away doctors; it took away the economic engine of the downtown area. Local restaurants that fed nurses for 50 years saw their revenue vanish.
Healthcare Deserts on the South Side
The loss of this facility contributed to what experts call a "healthcare desert." When you look at the map of the Chicago area, there is a glaring disparity in access to Level I and Level II trauma care between the North Side and the South Side/Suburbs.
When a heart attack happens in Blue Island now, the ambulance has to bypass the shuttered MetroSouth and head to Advocate Christ in Oak Lawn or Ingalls in Harvey. Those minutes matter. They are the difference between a full recovery and permanent damage.
It’s important to realize that St Francis wasn't an isolated incident. Hospitals like Westlake in Melrose Park faced similar fates. The pattern is usually the same:
- A for-profit company acquires a community hospital.
- They realize the payer mix (mostly government insurance) makes high profits difficult.
- They claim the building is "obsolete."
- They shut it down despite community protest.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Closure
One common misconception is that the hospital was "failing" in terms of care. That wasn't it. MetroSouth actually had a solid reputation for its cardiovascular programs and its birthing center. The "failure" was purely financial.
Another myth is that it's going to reopen as a full-service hospital any day now. It won't. The license for those beds is gone. To reopen as a hospital, a developer would basically have to start from scratch with the state, a process that is incredibly difficult and expensive.
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Looking Forward: Actionable Insights for the Community
If you are a former patient or a resident of the Blue Island area, you have to navigate a new landscape. The era of the big "everything hospital" on Gregory Street is over, but that doesn't mean you're without options.
Find Your New Primary Care Anchor
Don't wait for an emergency to figure out where you're going. Most of the physicians who worked at St Francis Hospital Blue Island migrated to Advocate Christ Medical Center or UChicago Medicine at Ingalls. If you haven't transferred your records yet, do it now. Medical records from MetroSouth were transitioned to a third-party storage service; you can usually request them through Quorum Health’s remaining administrative portals.
Utilize Local Urgent Care for Non-Emergencies
Since the ER on Gregory Street is gone, the surrounding areas have seen an uptick in independent urgent care centers. For a fever or a minor cut, these are faster and cheaper than trekking to a major trauma center in Oak Lawn.
Advocate for the Redevelopment
The City of Blue Island is still actively seeking the right fit for that property. Attend city council meetings. The goal should be a facility that offers "emergency-lite" services or specialized geriatric care, which the area desperately needs.
Monitor Your Specialty Care
If you were seeing a specialist at the MetroSouth professional buildings, many of those offices actually stayed open longer than the hospital itself. However, many have since moved to new medical parks in Crestwood or Alsip. Check your doctor’s current affiliation via the Illinois Department of Financial and Professional Regulation (IDFPR) website to ensure they are still within your insurance network.
The story of St Francis Hospital Blue Island is a reminder that healthcare isn't a permanent fixture. It’s a fragile ecosystem. While the building stands as a quiet giant today, the legacy of the care provided there for 114 years still defines the people of Blue Island.