A Chicagoan - In Exile
I’m a
“Chicagoan – in Exile” – living now in Richmond, California. It’s a long story I’ll only briefly touch
upon. I lived in Chicago from 1974 until
early in 1983, returned in May of 2018 until we left over 3 ½ years ago to near
where we met nearly 24 years ago.
A Gorgeous Peaceful Beach Sunrise –
quite cold though
The love of
blues music drew me in the first time. The
impending birth of our granddaughter brought the us the second time.
My “deep
journey” began in November, 2018. My
major periods of depression have moved further and further away from me. 2019 was better than 2018, 2020 was better
than 2019, ….
Not that
long after I came to Chicago I learned of Organizing White Men for Collective
Liberation. This morning I introduced D
to Manny’s Deli, a wonderful part of my past, as well as today.
When I first
attended a national meeting of OWMCL on zoom, D, a resident of a NW Suburb and
I were coincidentally in a 3 man breakout group/room. We co-founded OWMCL’s Chicago Chapter. Now, thanks to several other white men, the
Chicago Chapter appears to me to do more substantive work than the rest of OWMCL’s
nationwide/local efforts.
Another
white Chicago man and I played “ping-pong” helping connect each other with
things that were meaningful to both of us.
“A” – got me connected with the NW/W-Mutual Aid Network, which has
helped change my life in amazing ways!
The Four of Us
Early on I
was almost kicked out, related to my patriarchal actions. I did my best to be accountable. Patriarchy is not my middle name! I helped co-found Men Stopping Rape, Inc. of
Madison, Wisconsin in 1983.
I returned
to Chicago last Thursday (we are stuck at Midway trying to get out Tuesday
evening – lightning/heavy rain).
Friday afternoon I worked on “bag build” for several hours. No one was there from “my day”. There were lots of wonderful folks I really
appreciated!
Saturday morning
was another special time for me. Community members have bags delivered by one
of our drivers. Some also receive other things they request like diapers for
their children or grandchildren. Local
residents (predominantly Latina/o) come from the neighborhood, receiving
donated food and clothing.
I saw
co-workers from my past and plenty of new ones. The energy and caring was self-evident. The rains of Friday were gone.
One reason I
am an “exile” now is that I’ve not discovered a comprehensive, inclusive
network or organization, that comes close to what Chicago gives to my soul.
Chicago is
so, so far ahead of The San Francisco Bay Area – where I now live! Chicagoans don’t feel like they/we are
better than the others around us. In
The Bay Area there is often the maxim that we’re “cooler”, “more intelligent”,
“more committed” or whatever.
I grew up in
West Lafayette, Indiana. I certainly
experience kindness from those I grew up with and see in my infrequent visits
there. Indiana though is aptly named
While I
experienced and experience kindness there, recently I heard Indiana referenced
where I grew up from age five – kindergarten on – as “The Mississippi of The
North” – which unfortunately is apt.
Mississippi was the wealthiest state in the U.S., as The Civil War
began, as it had so much 100% “free labor” (i.e. slaves). Today, as its wealthy white folks have played
off its poorer white folks against Black People – with continued “objective” –
“white superiority disease” – Mississippi is the poorest of our 50 states.
Indiana – remains as a “danger spot”
for Chicagoans – as they/we know that we are not “safe from oppression” – as
the borders remain open.
Monday
morning I saw a number of familiar former neighbors both with two legs, as well
as with four (dogus domesticus). It was
wonderful again to connect with others from my past.
Looking Towards our Old Block
Zoey (leashfree) and I used to be out
here regularly
On several of
our days I walked through multiple residential neighborhoods. The (architectural) wonders of Chicago’s older
residences was apparent, amidst the non-descript sub-areas. Chicago has so, so much beauty in its buildings
and people in its varied neighborhoods.
While the “worlds”
of many, if not most, Chicagoans are so, so, so different from my world, I love
it dearly. I don’t need to be a fan of all
its professional sports teams, besides a tint of Cubs – Love, to appreciate its
people.
I stopped
briefly at Family Planning Associates, where I was a clinic escort. Chicago is “real”. I immediately saw the lone (white, male) protester,
and the escorts were monitoring him hovering there. Thankfully, there weren’t multitudes of
those seeking to impose their “beliefs” upon the women and girls who were there
for important, personal reasons.
Those living
in The Bay Area speak dismissively. “How
could you possibly cope with Chicago’s winters?” they repeatedly ask. Their narrow perspective keeps me limit my
sharing of the beauties of the City I love so much!
For me, the “issues”
are minor. They include the horrible
drainage system when it rains. Also
annoying, is the necessity of working within the “Ward System”. A simple example might be if one wanted to
have an old couch taken away. In most cities,
one either would deliver it to “the dump” or call the relevant department. In Chicago I would need to call The 49th
Ward (alderperson’s) Office, so they could arrange for it to be picked up.
I have so
many wonderful memories! I love
visiting Chicago whenever I can make it.
Seeing my granddaughter, my friends, and the beauty of the people and
neighborhoods is so wonderful!
Ann Arbor
(where I was born), West Lafayette (where I grew up), Madison (undergraduate
days as well as where my son was born the 2nd time I lived there),
and The Richmond/Oakland-Berkeley-San Francisco communities all have their own
special memories. Seattle seems less
significant.
Chicago will
be my home, regardless of whether I ever return for more than brief visits.
Maxwell Street Market perhaps before
my time
The Best – open only for the Summer
Theresa’s –
where Junior Wells had his “home” (bar) and I saw James Cotton perform (out of
love for the community, not for the money which was a small amount) New Year’s
Eve, 1974
Florences – 5543 S Shields
Chicago will
always be an incredibly strong memory – for my love of blues music, which first
brought me there! Flo’s pictured above,
was where Hound Dog Taylor performed and hung out on Sunday afternoons.
I once went
there with my mother. She was aware of
HD making a (light) pass at her there.
I took a ride home (to get home early) one Sunday with Bob and Sue Koester
(Delmark Records/Jazz Record Mart) with their guest, the noted jazz critic
Helen Dance (only Sue is still alive).
Two young gunmen robbed us outside there. Magic Slim came running
out of the bar with his pistol to “save us”.
Thankfully, the robbers were gone by then!
Hound Dog
Taylor’s funeral will always remain a vivid memory of mine!
In my early
20’s, I thought I was “cool”, seeing the bluesmen of Chicago in the years
before they were regularly playing in the middle class/white clubs of
Chicago. The Black People whose spaces
I entered were kind to intruders like me.
The Wolf
(Howlin Wolf) played at his home bar of the time circa 1974. I recall the doorman telling me that the
cover was $2, (not the common $1 because it was Wolf, a most amazing
musician.
Note: while
an undergraduate at The University of Wisconsin a group of blues lovers I was a
part of produced the show noted below:
It was
either 1972 or ’73 when Howlin’ Wolf and Mississippi Fred McDowell came to the
Union Theater. The concert was sold out. A large crowd (including me) gathered
outside the doors. During Mississippi Fred’s set, it grew a bit larger and a
little rowdy. Before Wolf came on, the people running the theater actually let
us all in if we promised to sit single file on the floor in the aisles. I’m
sure we were breaking all the fire code rules. It didn’t matter, because as
soon as Wolf came on, everyone in the theater was on their feet dancing to the
music. Great show! So lucky to experience it!
David
Austern ’73
https://onwisconsin.uwalumni.com/letters-the-concerts-you-never-forget/o
Less than
two blocks from where I saw The Wolf perform amazingly a few times, was The
Avenue – where Lonnie Brooks played regularly.
(Lonnie, before Bruce Iglauer, ably took over managing him, once asked
me if I would promote/manage him [I couldn’t possibly have helped him – was too
young/immature/inept. When I was first
married, through Bruce, we hired Lonnie to play for $300 at our wedding party
for friends, on February 26, 1977 at a rented place on Fullerton, roughly 2600 West). Michael Frank, a friend/acquaintance brought
David “Honeyboy” Edwards (age 61 at the time – he lived another 34 years!) and
the two of them played for us during a break in the music.)
The Avenue
had a “late night license” so it could be open until 4:00 a.m. every night except
Saturday night, when it was open until 5:00.
I once, naively, went alone there perhaps at 9:30 p.m. on a weekend
evening to see Lonnie Brooks perform.
There was a bartender, and perhaps two or three young women there. One of them, almost certainly a local sex
worker, seeing an early 20’s white “boy” in a poor, All-Black Area spoke to me
roughly as follows:
“Are you a cop?” (“No”), “Are you a musician?” (“No”), “Then
what the Hell are you doing here?” .
She was most friendly! She was “not
working”, nor seeking anything from me.
Lonnie Brooks
- Born: December 18,
1933, Dubuisson, St. Landry Parish, Louisiana, U.S.
- Died: April 1, 2017, Chicago, Illinois, United States
Chicago is
home! I love it very much! Its people and energy and spirit are a deep
part of me!
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