Remember where you came from. Know where you're going.

Complimentary Milk Duds at Lou Mitchell's

Apologies for my longish absence. Events occasionally overtake me.

Our travelogue continues.

On the day we decamped from our friend Jerry's comfortable abode in Hammond and moved house to Chicago, we left in time to do something off the beaten path before taking advantage of early check-in at our hotel.

A room with a view

I refer to our leaving Northwest Indiana in the rear-view and taking the Dan Ryan, then Lakeshore Drive, to a point seven miles north of downtown: specifically, the Edgewater neighborhood of Chicago.

It was here that I lived with my family for a period of time in the early sixties.

Last summer I told you about my mother, sister, and I sort of recreating an old photograph -- as in, one taken on Easter Sunday, March 29, 1964, in front of a small private school next door to the big old house (long gone) where we occupied a tiny apartment.

Snowy Easter Sunday 1964 ... that's me on the left

I had really wished that Mom, Kay, and I could go back to Chicago and stand in the same place for that photo, fifty-five years to the day since the original was taken.

Remember, it was taken twenty-five years to the day before my son Andrew was born?

I found that fascinating. How long the time, and how short.

It will floor you

Anyway, since TG and I were in Chicago and within striking distance of the street where our small nomadic tribe sojourned once upon a time, I wanted to go and see it.

Parking is at a premium anywhere and everywhere you go in Chicago, so TG dropped me off in front of the old Stickney School. It's now apartments.

Edgy in Edgewater

I was able to get the edge of my face while behind me was the approximate spot where Kay and I stood, with our mother facing us, in the original photo.

Not exactly a reenactment, but it will have to do.

After that distinctly inauspicious moment, TG picked me back up and I suggested that we make our way around the corner to Goudy Elementary School.

Here's where I must pull over and park for a mo.

It winds from Chicago to LA

In the course of my childhood, from the time I started first grade at the age of five -- no; I was not a child prodigy, but thank you -- and through the twelfth grade, from which I graduated three months after my seventeenth birthday, I never attended the same school twice.

In fact, throughout grade school my sister and I sometimes matriculated at more than one institution of learning in a single school year.

We moved a lot. I was the perpetual new girl.

Legendary for their coffee

Of all of the schools in which I was enrolled and attended class for any length of time, until the sixth grade when I had my favorite academic year ever at Oakland Park Elementary School in Oakland Park (Fort Lauderdale) Florida, I do not recall the names of any of them. Or anything else about them.

Except for Goudy Elementary. And I have no idea why I remember it.

First grade? Second Grade? Sketchy (at best) recall of teacher(s), school(s), or even city(ies) or state(s). Fourth grade? Fifth grade? Nothing. (Well. I vaguely recall that in fifth grade, at one point I had a teacher named Mrs. Reddy. And I sort of remember what she looked like. It's not much to go on.)

(My mother told me that I started school in Seattle, Washington. It may as well have been on the moon because I have no recollection of pursuing any sort of studies in the Pacific Northwest.)

It looms large

(And I know -- because I've seen pictures of myself and my sister all dressed for school and lugging our book satchels -- that I started second grade in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. I do have a vivid memory of being sent home early on November 22, 1963. But before that school year was over, we had moved back to Chicago.)

(I remember all of my schools after sixth grade, up to and including my college, from which I graduated forty-five years after my first foray as a freshman in the fall of 1974.)

But for reasons I will never understand, when I was seven years old and in third grade, I have solid memories of being a student at Goudy Elementary School on Winthrop Avenue in the Edgewater neighborhood of Chicago.

Mrs. Sullivan was my teacher and I can still see her in my mind's eye. She was tall and wore an impressive beehive hairdo.

Looking southward

So it was that TG dropped me off in front of William C. Goudy Elementary and went to find a parking space. I made my way up some stone steps and to a set of solid metal double doors.

I pulled. The doors were locked. A sign said that you'd need a photo ID to enter the building.

A Chicago institution

As always when we travel, I was wearing my small crossbody bag and my driver's license wasn't in it. It was in the car, but TG had taken the car to find someplace to park.

I was descending the stone steps, thinking of calling TG and asking him to bring my wallet, when the doors opened and a gentleman asked me what I wanted.

I took it as a sign

I explained that I didn't have my ID on me but that I'd gone to school there in third grade, and I just wanted to look around.

A lovely lady then motioned to me from just inside the building. She was standing by a reception desk.

Come on in, she said. I'm the principal.

And so I did, and was greeted warmly, and the kind lady -- name of Mrs. Pamela Brandt -- asked me if I'd like a tour around the building.

Sears Tower* is King ... here's the Queen: 311 South Wacker

Of course I said I would, and TG soon joined us, and it was pretty great to walk the hallways that I walked as a seven-year-old, more than half a century ago.

I recognized the gymnasium, which is smallish. Its high, tall windows were exactly as I recalled. 

As we walked around, Mrs. Brandt told me that in 1988, then-Secretary of Education William Bennett dubbed Goudy the "worst school in America."

And he did -- you can look it up. Of course Goudy wasn't THE absolute worst -- that term being subjective -- but unfortunately it was a type of the worst. Graffiti marred the walls and gangs roamed the halls.

Iconic signage for a legendary diner

Mrs. Brandt told me that her late husband volunteered his time to help paint and restore the building to some of its former beauty and functionality.

Today Goudy is regarded as an excellent school. I could tell that Mrs. Brandt runs a tight ship both academically and in regard to student conduct, but that a code of love and kindness prevails.

She took us into two classrooms and, in each one, introduced me to the children as a former student at Goudy.

In one room she asked the students to raise their hand and tell me something they like about their school.

You'll put your eye out ... or hurt your neck

I admit I became emotional. One child said he liked it because, as their teacher reminds them, every day they become "one day smarter."

Another said he likes Goudy because if you fall down on the playground, someone always comes quickly to help you feel better.

I can't explain it but I wish you could have seen their little faces. It was a moment.

Soon we had to leave but not before TG took my picture with Mrs. Brandt. I felt as though I had made a new friend. She is special.

Thanks for the memories

Then we made our way back south to the Hyatt Regency McCormick Place, and checked in to our room. Normally we stay much closer to all of the downtown action, but prices were high as cats' backs this year.

We walk a lot when we visit cities -- in fact we walk as much as we can -- but we also take the subway, the bus, and summon Ubers. Whatever works best.

After getting settled, we Ubered over to Lou Mitchell's, a legendary Chicago diner, for our meal of the day.

This is Jackson Boulevard

Lou Mitchell's is famous for a number of things -- not least that it claims to be the precise spot where Route 66 begins.

It winds from Chicago to LA
More than two thousand miles all the way
Get your kicks on Route Sixty-Six

At Lou Mitchell's, when you walk in the door, a seater/greeter begins plying you with donut holes. Ladies get a mini box of Milk Duds as well. 

According to the web site, it's because Greeks believe in welcoming guests with something sweet. All I know is, those donut holes were money. I saved my Milk Duds to eat at the ball game that night.

We sat outside, under a yellow umbrella, practically in the shadow of the Sears Tower.* The weather was perfect.

The view to the north

After laying waste to a huge, piping-hot omelet with scrumptious breakfast potatoes and tasty toast and mouth-watering house-made marmalade that was unlike anything I've ever experienced (I don't remember what TG had), we were ready to walk down the street to the Sears Tower.*

It was only a few blocks. As you get closer and closer, the size of that building truly boggles the mind.

This is Route 66

We entered and found the place where you buy tickets to the skydeck.

A few minutes after that, we were zooming upwards more than one hundred floors.

The view is pretty much incomparable. Pictures do not begin to do it justice.

Hahahaha nope

People were lined up -- and had paid extra -- to stand on the clear acrylic ledges that jut out from the building.

No thank you.

Once you've walked around all four sides and taken several pictures of the view from each direction, you're just about done (and it doesn't take all that long).

Looking northeastward ... John Hancock Center

Luckily there's a gift shop right there and I needed souvenirs for the kids. We looked around but ended up buying presents in a larger gift shop downstairs, where the selection was wider.

Then it was time to go back to the hotel and get ready for the game. The subway ride to Wrigley Field would take the better part of forty-five minutes.

That sign is 85 years old

We Ubered from our hotel to the Cermak-Chinatown station and bought three-day Ventra card passes that would allow us to ride the subway as much as we wanted throughout our visit.

To say that the subway gets crowded between all Chicago stops and Wrigley Field on game night would be like saying that it gets cold in Chicago in the wintertime. Duh.

Al fresco dining, urban style

Definitely. Although TG and I had seats (I won't get on if it's too crowded to find a seat), literally every hanging strap had a hand hanging on it, and a person hanging from the hand.

Standing and swaying room only.

Take me out to the ballgame

But we reached our destination and it's always such a happy time when you first see the friendly confines, and make your way inside and to your seat.

We're always early so that we can enjoy the ambience and the organ music and the weather.

The Friendly Confines

The Cubs lost.

Yeah. Not gonna lie; that was a major disappointment. Their season was tanking big time (and DID ultimately tank, miserably), but that night there remained a sliver of hope that our boys of summer would make the playoffs.

We had a good time anyway. I also had a pretzel and a soft drink, and that little bitty box of Milk Duds came in handy.

Clark and Addison on the Red Line

Then it was back to the Addison Street station, back onto the subway for a late-night ride, back to the Cermak-Chinatown station, collected from in front of the Nine Dragon Wall for our last Uber ride of the day, which took us to our hotel where we enjoyed sweet dreams.

More Windy City adventures to come! Stay tuned.

But that is all for now.

*It has a new name but I never use it.

=0=0=0=

Happy Wednesday :: Happy Week

Comments

[Mari]

You do know how to pack in all sorts of fun in a trip! It was good to see the places of your youth. I'm so glad you got into your old school and had such a nice welcome and tour! The principal sounds like an amazing lady. Sounds like the school really turned around.
Sear Tower! I'm not a fan of heights but it's so cool to see those views.
Sorry your boys lost, but I know you had fun!

[Jennifer]

@Mari ... yes ... and lost and lost and lost! Oh well. There's always next year, haaahaha xoxo

[Judy]

So glad you got to pack in a lot of memories on your adventure.
You do love that ballpark, don't you? :-)

[Jennifer]

@Judy ... how could you tell? Hahahaha yes we love it. It's a wonderful place. xoxo

[sally]

awwww, Jenny, my friend as always I enjoy your posts; this trip was amazing. Your photos are so good, and might I add you and TG are such a beautiful couple! How wonderful to tour your old school!

I got stuck at one point where you mentioned starting school in Seattle - girl, years before you I actually started first grade in Whidbey Island; the Naval base where we lived is gone now but oh so many wonderful memories. Several times we went to Seattle for 'turkey and gravy' served on bread. YUM

Thank you, lady for being such a great traveler and sharing with us.

xoxo

[Jennifer]

@Sally ... what a cool coincidence! I have no memory of living there but the picture of me with my dog, Pepper, in my sidebar was taken there at about that time period. The person who had commandeered our little three-soul family was running from the law so we often absconded in the dead of night. True story. Turkey and gravy on bread sounds fantastic. Love you girl! xoxo

[Liberty Belle]

I enjoyed your post. It made me instantly recall fond long-ago visits to Marshall Fields with my mom. Honestly, I wouldn't object to a slice from Lou Malnati's right about now either. Nice photos.

[Jennifer]

@Liberty Belle ... Thanks for stopping by. Marshall Fields! I could go for a box of Frango mints! After we polish off a deep-dish at Lou Malnati's. xoxo

[Barb]

First of all, I'm amazed at your nomadic childhood. It takes a strong confidence and sense of self to weather that many moves successfully. We grow in so many ways we aren't even aware of as our life unfolds. I can't believe you were welcomed into a school in session without ID and even given a tour! Do you cast a spell on people? I like seeing Chicago again through your eyes and words. I'm getting hungry with your descriptions of the delicious meals. Time for a snack (not Milk Duds...).

[Jennifer]

@Barb ... Well, I had nothing in the way of strong confidence back then (if I even have any now, hahaha) ... my sister and I just did as we were told. As for being admitted to the school sans ID, I think Mrs. Brandt could tell that I was legit. How, I do not know, hahaha! But we had a great time and I'll never forget it. I'm glad I made you hungry for a snack. Hope you enjoyed it. xoxo