1,001 Chicago Afternoons

The following is a selection from the Chicago Corruption Walking Tour, which I will be leading all summer.

Tickets are available at Dabble.co.

…

When researching 19-teens and 1920s Chicago Mayor William “Big Bill” Thompson, there were several moments when I thought “That is the greatest fact ever.”

When I found out Big Bill repeatedly threatened to punch the king of England in the face to court South Side Irish voters, I thought “That is the greatest fact ever.” When I found out he led a crusade to get pro-British books out of the Chicago Public Library, I thought “That is the greatest fact ever.”

When I found out that he kept his name in the papers after he lost his first re-election bid by announcing a massive expedition to South America in a ship called “The Big Bill” to capture footage of a fish that could climb trees, but then he just hung out in New Orleans for a while, I thought “That’s it! We’ve got it! That is the greatest fact ever.”

Big Bill was hilarious. And that’s what made him dangerous. This loud-mouthed, media-friendly clown in a cowboy hat — Chicago’s last Republican mayor — was the most corrupt public official in Illinois history. » Read the rest of this entry «

With a hiss and a little bit of a puff, the beest lurched backward.

Its handler, a young artist type in a bright yellow T-shirt and a sideways-cropped hairdo with a yellow-dyed tuft on the right side of his head, jumped to attention. He grabbed a tube dangling from the animal’s side and kinked it.

The beest stopped. » Read the rest of this entry «

The sun was bright and his face was happy as he stepped out of his luxury SUV.

He took a few moments to just stand between car and sidewalk, relaxing and feeling the city’s pulse before a night of culture and glitz at the Goodman Theatre.

It would have been inspiring had he not been taking his moment of joy in the middle of a protected bike lane. » Read the rest of this entry «

My mother has been posting photos of what the privy diggers found.

I grew up in an old house which, apparently, used to have an outhouse right below the maple I used to climb. *

Outhouses in the 1800s were apparently trash dumps too, so my parents let some privy diggers — professional excavators — dig down to see what was there. They pulled out crystal wine stoppers, old bottles, cracked porcelain plates with blue-dyed townscapes, all right under my old maple.

It got me thinking about what’s beneath our feet in Chicago.

» Read the rest of this entry «

There were three PhDs in the crowd in front of me and, I would later be told, a homeless man touching himself inappropriately behind me.

I continued.

“… announcing a massive expedition to South America in a ship called ‘The Big Bill’ to capture footage of a fish that could climb trees, but then he just hung around in New Orleans for a month, I thought ‘That’s it! We’ve got it! That is the greatest fact ever.’”

Operation Scalded Armadillo, the top-secret writing project that I’ve alluded to over the last few weeks, is in reality The Chicago Corruption Walking Tour, which I researched, wrote and plan to debut this summer. » Read the rest of this entry «

There was a sweeping view from the waiting room.

It was one of those glassy towers downtown, entire outer walls just one massive view of the tips of skyscrapers, orange-vested workers skittering among the Wrigley Building roof columns, bits of sky that reminded you there are other colors to downtown than Beaux-Arts ecru and Miesian steel black.

She had her back firmly against all that. She was sitting staring forward. I thought she might be the photographer there to meet me for the freelance gig.

“Being a photographer sounds like an interesting career,” she said absently, staring off into space. » Read the rest of this entry «

As mentioned on Monday, all my writing time as of late has gone to a top-secret project I’ve code-named “Operation Scalded Armadillo.”

I’ll be able to speak more freely after April 3, but here are a few actual lines I’ve written for OSA.

It’s non-fiction.

1. “… announcing a massive expedition to South America in a ship called ‘The Big Bill’ to capture footage of a fish that could climb trees…” » Read the rest of this entry «

I’m in crunch time on a top-secret writing project that, for purposes of anonymity and to sound cool, I’m referring to only as “Operation Scalded Armadillo.”

It’ll knock your socks off when complete, but OSA (aka “The Armadills”) hasn’t left me much time for the usual running around, doing stuff and writing about it. To keep your Chicago-based edutainment rolling here on the site, I now give you a small taste of my masterwork in progress. » Read the rest of this entry «

Every old settler knew little Jimmy Marshall, though few were aware that he was a physician by profession, and a dancing master by calling, in 1834. Always carefully groomed, he was to be seen in his silk hat, black frock coat, dark trousers, well polished boots and immaculate shirt bosom. He was at all times ready to trip the light fantastic; and he tripped it, too. How that nimble little figure would wind through the mazes of the Money Musk or the rollicking Virginia Reel! Those were dances that made his black eyes shine with a brighter luster than the diamond he so much admired…

When selling goods, Marshall’s limber tongue moved as fast as his nimble feet in a double shuffle. I yet seem to hear his “two an’ a ha’f, an’ a ha’f, an’ a ha’f, an’ a ha’f, make it three, three, do I hear? any more than three, three an’ a ha’f, an’ a ha’f, an’ a ha’f I’m bid, make it four,” and so on until knocked down. We shall never forget him as long as the red flag flies.

— Edwin O. Gale, “Reminisces of Early Chicago and Vicinity,” 1902

» Read the rest of this entry «

Is this a map of Wicker Park or an amoeba about to split in two?

» Read the rest of this entry «