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