a trip to the city

Recently, I was thinking about my first trip to Chicago.  Actually I think it was my 2nd trip as I have a vague memory of visiting my Aunt Sis and Uncle Joe when I was a wee tot - I'm not sure.  Seems they lived in or near the city in a small apartment.  I'm sure they will chime in to verify.

Anyway, my first trip that I truly remember was when I was 12.  I rode the train with my grandmother from Chattanooga all the way to Chicago Heights, where Sis and Joe picked us up.  They lived just southeast of Chicago proper - around Gary if memory serves.  I was excited about my first (and only) cross-country train trip, but I don't remember much about it other than a lot of countryside.

Sis and Joe had a nice ranch house in a nice ranch-house kind of neighborhood.  They had a neighbor who's daughter was a Playboy bunny - Chicago being the home of the Playboy club, that seemed quite a big deal.  I have a couple of vivid memories of this trip - one is that my cousin Jackie had a "Creepy Crawler" machine.  Now, if you've ever heard Jeff Foxworthy's take on the toys he had as a kid, such as the wood-burning kit and lawn darts, the Creepy Crawler machine should be right up there on the list of "what the hell were they thinking".  This was a metal mold that you squirted goo into, plugged it in and waited while it cooked the goo at about 1000 degrees into rubbery squiggley bugs and worms.  It was fun!  And there is no way you could get away with giving a child one of those today without being charged with child abuse.  They've just taken all the fun out of being a kid.

The other memory is of the day that my aunt and grandmother wanted a day to themselves, so they dropped me off at school with Jackie.  The school evidently didn't take to kindly to being asked to enlighten me with the wonders of a big-city education.  They called Sis to come and fetch me.  It was the first time I ever heard the word "asinine" used in a sentence.

Of all those fun memories of my first real adventure in the big world, there is one that really didn't take hold for several years.  My 12-year-old mind didn't grasp the gravity of the situation, or that I was smack in the middle of a historical event that would become part of our American history.  A trip to the Chicago area would just not be complete without a visit to the city itself.  And we planned to drive into town one day, but for some reason, it was deemed unsafe to do so.  You see, this  was the summer of 1968, the summer of hate which followed the summer of love (1967).  This was the year of assassinations and riots, of the Chicago 7, Black Panthers, and the Democratic Convention in Chicago.  And I was there - well almost.

I find it somehow fitting that I now live in a city that those many years ago fostered fear and hate among Americans; this city that I now find so warm and safe and peaceful.  Gary, Indiana is now not a place I would feel particularly comfortable, but that's the sort of change comes from urban sprawl.  It's hard to imagine riots in the streets of Chicago now, but it's not out of the question.  We never know when we'll find ourselves in the midst of a "summer of hate", which is why we should always find ourselves in the midst of a "life of love".

I'm sure I never thanked Sis and Joe for allowing me to invade their home for those few days, so thanks, Aunt Sis and Uncle Joe, and cousin Jackie!  By the way, you wouldn't have that Creepy Crawler thing tucked away in the attic somewhere, would you?  My grandkids and I could have a blast with that!