| Radio was the big communicator, back | | | | inclined to buy you some candy, just to |
| when I was a kid. Whole families huddled | | | | make the noise stop for awhile. We |
| around the speaker of that hulk. Our | | | | weren't too dumb. |
| minds, working like a cotton picker on a | | | | Fighting in Chicago was a prerequisite |
| hot summer day. We had imagination. | | | | to boyhood. When we would walk down the |
| Vivid, plentiful thoughts, moving | | | | streets, past the alleys, fear was |
| throughout the story which was being | | | | constant, as all the really bad boys |
| broadcast. | | | | lurked down that alley way. No place for |
| The characters, were like people we | | | | the faint of heart. We all thought we |
| somehow knew. People who lived right | | | | were tough guys back then. Maybe we |
| down the street from us, in the three | | | | really were? |
| story apartment building. That apartment | | | | No drugs back then, at least, none of us |
| building, was a warehouse of eclectic | | | | every heard about them. Our parents made |
| personalities, popping from every floor, | | | | vague references to drugs, in |
| and every door. | | | | retrospect, but, really, they didn't |
| Old cars, now relics of the past. New, | | | | even know what they were. Although, Pops |
| when we were young. Cool cars too, metal | | | | knew what beer was. He knew all about |
| so thick, you could hurt your hand just | | | | that. All the World War 2 guys drank |
| bumping into it. Lasted a long time, and | | | | beer. Because, they really were tough |
| made moving about the big city of | | | | guys. We didn't know that you could be |
| Chicago much easier than taking the | | | | tough, and not drink, and smoke |
| trolley, bus or "EL", short for elevated | | | | cigarettes. |
| train. | | | | Life in the alleys of Chicago, was not |
| Oh yes, want to get the scare of a | | | | only for tough guys. It was an avenue |
| lifetime, ride the "EL" around one of | | | | for commerce as well. The coal man came |
| those sharp corners, thirty feet off the | | | | with the truck, and shovelled coal down |
| ground. Steel wheels grinding against | | | | a shute into your basement, to keep your |
| steel tracks, making sounds so | | | | furnace going. Thats right coal. Black |
| shrill,the devil himself, would cringe. | | | | smoke billowing from everyone's |
| I know my Mom's hands were crimped for a | | | | buildings. |
| week, when I would grip her hand so | | | | Men selling rags, singing a song that |
| tight around those curves. | | | | was well known to us. "Rags, Rags, |
| People wearing clothes that made them | | | | everyone needs rags, Ragman coming, come |
| all look like gangsters. Suits way to | | | | and gettem" Gosh, they sold everything |
| large, cuffs on shirts that could hide a | | | | in those alleys. |
| deck of cards, and a pair of dice. | | | | Milkmen, with horse drawn carts. Oh now, |
| Litter blowing everywhere, down windy | | | | we loved those horses. They were huge |
| streets, sweeping dicarded cigarette | | | | with covers over their eyes. As kids we |
| packages, and paper, and dirt, like a | | | | didn't know what those were. We really |
| hurricane unleashed. It is the Windy | | | | didn't care as long as we could pet the |
| City, after all. | | | | horses. |
| Another memory comes to mind now, tennis | | | | The milkman was kindly, and chipped off |
| balls being bounced off the lowest step | | | | chunks of ice, from the big blocks in |
| of building's porches. Thump, thump, and | | | | the wagon, which kept the milk cold. We |
| crowds of kids leaping over one another, | | | | absolutely loved that. Ice, who would |
| trying to catch the ball, as it bounced | | | | think that a little thing like that |
| high into the air. No kid would even | | | | would be so important to little kids. I |
| care to watch that now, much less | | | | will always be gratefull to that man for |
| participate. We did it for hours. | | | | his kindness. |
| Boredom played tricks on the mind. | | | | Scissor and knife sharpeners. They all |
| Did I mention, the best steps to bounce | | | | had a song. Singing loudly, I admired |
| a ball on, were the steps of Peterson's | | | | them so. They were the best kind of |
| store. To us, it was the candy depot. | | | | entepreneurs. Business men, who set |
| Apothecary jars, filled with candy of | | | | their own pace, in a world of frantic |
| every description. Hands full of candy | | | | motion. |
| for pennies. Kids drool when I tell them | | | | There is so much more to those days. So |
| how much candy, they could have bought | | | | many memories that were the best kind of |
| back then with two dollars. | | | | life experiences, back when we was kids |
| We learned young, that after long hours | | | | in Chicago. |
| of the thumping noise. People were | | | | |