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