Only strange survivors at Rogers Park – Chicago Magazine

I used to see the bag lady through the window in the living room on the East Lake Terrace in Rogers Park. She was a proud old woman wearing a hat with eaves, a long dress, stockings, and block-shaped shoes. She flipped the lid of the trash can on Rogers Avenue Beach and was too flashy for her daily rounds to uproot her contents and carry her away. Find in Macy’s bag and collect cigarette butts to meet her smoking habits. She had a few friends on the block, but when I tried to talk to her, she fixed me with an evil eye and put her attention back in her trash can.

Rogers Park is full of eccentrics, so I didn’t think much about Baglady until I realized I hadn’t seen her for a few years. One morning I asked her neighbor Patrick, “What happened to that woman in her hat?” Patrick knows everyone on East Lake Terrace. A muscular, chin-bearded, tattooed bachelor, he has lived in an apartment built by his great-grandfather since he was four years old, with a toy dog ​​at his feet and a courtroom on a park bench. I’m spending the morning.

“Oh, that was Vivian Maier!” He exclaimed. “It turns out she was a great photographer. After she died, someone found her photo in a storage locker and is now making her movie about her.”

This was the first time I’ve heard the name of a street photographer whose posthumous fame created the art book, film, printed matter sales, gallery shows, and biographies.After watching a movie Find Vivian Maier (Patrick made a cameo because she called an ambulance when she sent her to a nursing home), so it’s no surprise that Vivian chose Rogers Park as her retired home. did. Rogers Park is Chicago’s attic, where Chicago holds people who can’t use it, but you can’t get rid of it either.

One night, a healthy young couple of my acquaintance wandered into my favorite Rogers Park dive bar, Lighthouse Tavern. They just moved to the neighborhood. They were nice people, but I knew they weren’t going to get it done. They weren’t strange enough. Sure enough, as soon as their debt ran out, they moved to Lincoln Square. They couldn’t stand the gunshots and the prostitutes were doing business in front of their building. At Rogers Park, only strange things survive.

Like Don Cell. At the turn of the century, I often spent the night at Don’s Coffee Club, Jarvis, and Greenview. I could only spend the night there. It was a coffee shop, but Dons wasn’t open until 7pm. There was no “L” rider not only on the way to work but also on the way home. Don performed Coffee Club Don’s method. He didn’t want many strangers out there. He only wanted people to relax in an easy chair that looked rescued from the alley, and to thank his hi-fi spinning big band LP. Carmagion was him, but Don became a popular figure at Rogers Park, attracting crowds to the annual prom and Oscar parties. There, he seems to remember watching the ceremony on black and white television. Due to Don’s popularity, he closed his business in 2000. “I can’t stand all these people” He said Chicago ReaderNeil PollackFormer Rogers Parker, who once called his neighbors “the deposits left after sifting through the streets of Chicago.”

You don’t need a lot of business sense to succeed in business at Rogers Park. It could be a handicap: you’ll fall out as a capitalist pig ruining the laid-back atmosphere of your neighborhood. Strictly from commercials, as Frank Zappa said. Novelist Achy Obejas once shot the scene at No Exit Cafe, a beat-era coffee shop on Glenwood Avenue, famous for Go’s games.

We sit down to look up the menu and try to order. Add a glass of soup of the day and try a half sandwich.

“Oh, I don’t know what it is,” says the non-moving waiter.

“Can you find out?”

“Oh, that’s right,” she says. It’s as if the light bulb had just turned on. It’s tomato barley. “And bread with a sandwich?” She rattles a lot of different breads.

“Then, croissants,” I say.

“Half sandwiches don’t have croissants,” she says.

“OK, white.”

“Oh, there is no white tonight.”


“There is no rye.”

“Well, look, what from that list conduct you have? “

“Darkrai wheat, maybe whole grain wheat. I don’t know.”

Founded in 1976 by the Movement People Michael James and Katie Hogan, the Heartland Café was in the immediate vicinity. Still, Heartland continued for 42 years by building a brand whose brand goes far beyond scrambling buffalo burgers and tofu. General store, magazine, Heartland JournalA series of 5K races at Loyola Park, Red Line Tap, Heartland Studio Theater, and a radio show still on air. Live from HeartlandA forum for center-left politics, owners, and neighborhoods. President James of the 49th Democratic Party brought Barack Obama to a restaurant in the 2004 Senate elections. Heartland reflects Rogers Park’s image as a community of eccentric, misfit, and free spirits. In the second half of the business, the restaurant held a fundraiser and sold membership to cover $ 118,000 in overdrafts at the bank. Shut down Hygiene violations after a customer suffers from food poisoning. Hey, we are all in trouble with a man.

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“It wasn’t like a restaurant, it was like a clubhouse where healthy people go.” No wristband host Justin Kaufman recently told James During the Rogers Park segment.

“There is a really deep spirit,” James said. “There were critics, whether food, politics, or service, but others understood it and appreciated its complexity, overallity, and harmonious atmosphere.”

At least in Rogers Park, the harmonious atmosphere is more satisfying to customers than delicious food and service.

Last year, artists Jackie and Don Seiden I sold a candyland house Located in Pratt Boulevard, painted in pastel green, orange and yellow. As a local landmark, it’s right there, and the front yard is home to Land Avenue, which is full of mirrors and garbage sculptures. I don’t know who bought the Candyland house, but so far they haven’t changed their painting job. That’s a good sign. They may be strange enough for Rogers Park.

Only strange survivors at Rogers Park – Chicago Magazine

Source link Only strange survivors at Rogers Park – Chicago Magazine

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