When We Was Kids In Chicago

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