CHICAGO

CHICAGO

Tonight, more than 200 years after a former colony won the right to determine its own destiny, the task of perfecting our union moves forward.

It moves forward because of you. It moves forward because you reaffirmed the spirit that has triumphed over war and depression, the spirit that has lifted this country from the depths of despair to the great heights of hope, the belief that while each of us will pursue our own individual dreams, we are an American family and we rise or fall together as one nation and as one people.

Tonight, in this election, you, the Ameri-can people, reminded us that while our road has been hard, while our journey has been long, we have picked ourselves up, we have fought our way back, and we know in our hearts that for the United States of America the best is yet to come.

I want to thank every American who participated in this election. Whether you voted for the very first time or waited in line for a very long time.

By the way, we have to fix that.Whether you pounded the pavement

or picked up the phone. Whether you held an Obama sign or a Romney sign, you made your voice heard and you made a difference.

I just spoke with Governor Romney and I congratulated him and Paul Ryan on a hard-fought campaign.

We may have battled fiercely, but it’s only because we love this country deeply and we care so strongly about its future. From George to Lenore to their son Mitt, the Romney family has chosen to give back to America through public service and that is the legacy that we honor and applaud tonight.

In the weeks ahead, I also look forward to sitting down with Governor Romney to talk about where we can work together to move this country forward.

I want to thank my friend and partner of the last four years, America’s happy war-rior, the best vice president anybody could ever hope for, Joe Biden.

And I wouldn’t be the man I am today

without the woman who agreed to marry me 20 years ago.

Let me say this publicly: Michelle, I have never loved you more. I have never been prouder to watch the rest of America fall in love with you, too, as our nation’s first lady.

Sasha and Malia, before our very eyes you’re growing up to become two strong, smart beautiful young women, just like your mom.

And I’m so proud of you guys. But I will say that for now one dog’s probably enough.

To the best campaign team and volun-teers in the history of politics...

The best. The best ever. Some of you were new this time around, and some of you have been at my side since the very beginning.

But all of you are family. No matter what you do or where you go from here, you will carry the memory of the history we made together and you will have the life-long ap-preciation of a grateful president. Thank you for believing all the way, through every hill, through every valley.

You lifted me up the whole way and I will always be grateful for everything that you’ve done and all the incredible work that you put in.

I know that political campaigns can sometimes seem small, even silly. And that provides plenty of fodder for the cynics that tell us that politics is nothing more than a contest of egos or the domain of special interests. But if you ever get the chance to talk to folks who turned out at our rallies and crowded along a rope line in a high school gym, or saw folks work-ing late in a campaign office in some tiny county far away from home, you’ll discover something else.

You’ll hear the determination in the voice of a young field organizer who’s working his way through college and wants to make sure every child has that same opportunity.

You’ll hear the pride in the voice of a volunteer who’s going door to door be-cause her brother was finally hired when the local auto plant added another shift.

You’ll hear the deep patriotism in the

voice of a military spouse whose working the phones late at night to make sure that no one who fights for this country ever has to fight for a job or a roof over their head when they come home.

That’s why we do this. That’s what poli-tics can be. That’s why elections matter. It’s not small, it’s big. It’s important. Democra-cy in a nation of 300 million can be noisy and messy and complicated. We have our own opinions. Each of us has deeply held beliefs. And when we go through tough times, when we make big decisions as a country, it necessarily stirs passions, stirs up controversy.

That won’t change after tonight, and it shouldn’t. These arguments we have are a mark of our liberty. We can never forget that as we speak people in distant nations are risking their lives right now just for a chance to argue about the issues that mat-ter, the chance to cast their ballots like we did today.

But despite all our differences, most of us share certain hopes for America’s future. We want our kids to grow up in a country where they have access to the best schools and the best teachers.

A country that lives up to its legacy as the global leader in technology and discov-ery and innovation, with all the good jobs and new businesses that follow.

We want our children to live in an America that isn’t burdened by debt, that isn’t weakened by inequality, that isn’t threatened by the destructive power of a warming planet.

We want to pass on a country that’s safe and respected and admired around the world, a nation that is defended by the strongest military on earth and the best troops this -- this world has ever known.

But also a country that moves with con-fidence beyond this time of war, to shape a peace that is built on the promise of freedom and dignity for every human be-ing. We believe in a generous America, in a compassionate America, in a tolerant America, open to the dreams of an immi-grant’s daughter who studies in our schools and pledges to our flag.

Wednesday morning,Nov. 7, 2012

the inauguration speech

To the young boy on the south side of Chicago who sees a life beyond the nearest street corner.

To the furniture worker’s child in North Carolina who wants to become a doctor or a scientist, an engineer or an entre-preneur, a diplomat or even a president -- that’s the future we hope for. That’s the vision we share. That’s where we need to go -- forward.

That’s where we need to go.Now, we will disagree, sometimes fiercely,

about how to get there. As it has for more than two centuries, progress will come in fits and starts. It’s not always a straight line. It’s not always a smooth path.

By itself, the recognition that we have common hopes and dreams won’t end all the gridlock or solve all our problems or substitute for the painstaking work of building consensus and making the dif-ficult compromises needed to move this country forward. But that common bond is where we must begin. Our economy is recovering. A decade of war is ending. A long campaign is now over.

And whether I earned your vote or not, I have listened to you, I have learned from you, and you’ve made me a better president. And with your stories and your struggles, I return to the White House more deter-mined and more inspired than ever about the work there is to do and the future that lies ahead.

Tonight you voted for action, not poli-tics as usual.

You elected us to focus on your jobs, not ours. And in the coming weeks and months, I am looking forward to reach-ing out and working with leaders of both parties to meet the challenges we can only solve together. Reducing our deficit. Re-forming our tax code. Fixing our immigra-tion system. Freeing ourselves from foreign oil. We’ve got more work to do.

But that doesn’t mean your work is done. The role of citizens in our Democracy does not end with your vote. America’s never been about what can be done for us. It’s about what can be done by us together through the hard and frustrating, but nec-

essary work of self-government. That’s the principle we were founded on.

This country has more wealth than any nation, but that’s not what makes us rich. We have the most powerful military in his-tory, but that’s not what makes us strong. Our university, our culture are all the envy of the world, but that’s not what keeps the world coming to our shores.

What makes America exceptional are the bonds that hold together the most diverse nation on earth.

The belief that our destiny is shared; that this country only works when we ac-cept certain obligations to one another and to future generations. The freedom which so many Americans have fought for and died for come with responsibilities as well as rights. And among those are love and charity and duty and patriotism. That’s what makes America great.

I am hopeful tonight because I’ve seen the spirit at work in America. I’ve seen it in the family business whose owners would rather cut their own pay than lay off their neighbors, and in the workers who would rather cut back their hours than see a friend lose a job.

I’ve seen it in the soldiers who reenlist after losing a limb and in those SEALs who charged up the stairs into darkness and danger because they knew there was a buddy behind them watching their back.

I’ve seen it on the shores of New Jersey and New York, where leaders from every party and level of government have swept aside their differences to help a com-munity rebuild from the wreckage of a terrible storm.

And I saw just the other day, in Men-tor, Ohio, where a father told the story of his 8-year-old daughter, whose long battle with leukemia nearly cost their family ev-erything had it not been for health care reform passing just a few months before the insurance company was about to stop paying for her care.

I had an opportunity to not just talk to the father, but meet this incredible daugh-ter of his. And when he spoke to the crowd listening to that father’s story, every parent

in that room had tears in their eyes, because we knew that little girl could be our own.

And I know that every American wants her future to be just as bright. That’s who we are. That’s the country I’m so proud to lead as your president.

And tonight, despite all the hardship we’ve been through, despite all the frustrations of Washington, I’ve never been more hopeful about our future.

I have never been more hopeful about America. And I ask you to sustain that hope. I’m not talking about blind optimism, the kind of hope that just ignores the enormity of the tasks ahead or the roadblocks that stand in our path. I’m not talking about the wishful idealism that allows us to just sit on the sidelines or shirk from a fight.

I have always believed that hope is that stubborn thing inside us that insists, despite all the evidence to the contrary, that some-thing better awaits us so long as we have the courage to keep reaching, to keep working, to keep fighting.

America, I believe we can build on the progress we’ve made and continue to fight for new jobs and new opportunity and new security for the middle class. I believe we can keep the promise of our founders, the idea that if you’re willing to work hard, it doesn’t matter who you are or where you come from or what you look like or where you love. It doesn’t matter whether you’re black or white or Hispanic or Asian or Native American or young or old or rich or poor, able, dis-abled, gay or straight, you can make it here in America if you’re willing to try.

I believe we can seize this future together because we are not as divided as our politics suggests. We’re not as cynical as the pundits believe. We are greater than the sum of our individual ambitions, and we remain more than a collection of red states and blue states. We are and forever will be the United States of America.

And together with your help and God’s grace we will continue our journey forward and remind the world just why it is that we live in the greatest nation on Earth.

Thank you, America. God bless you. God bless these United States.

PresidentBARRACK OBAMA

Tonight, tonight

Time is never time at all.

You can never ever leave without leaving a piece of youth.

And our lives are forever changed.

We will never be the same.The more you change the less you feel.

Believe, believe in me, be-lieve.

Believe that life can change.

That youre not stuck in vain.

Were not the same, were dif-ferent tonight.

Tonight, so bright.Tonight.

And you know youre never sure.

But you’re sure you could be right.

If you held yourself up to the light.

And the embers never fade in your city by the lake.

The place where you were born.

Believe, believe in me, be-lieve.Believe in the resolute ur-gency of now.

And if you believe theres not a chance tonight.

Tonight, so bright.Tonight.

We’ll crucify the insincere tonight.

We’ll make things right, we’ll feel it all tonight.

We’ll find a way to offer up the night tonight.

The indescribable moments of your life tonight.

The impossible is possible tonight.

Believe in me as I believe in you, tonight. the Smashing Pumpkins

7. The Homecoming: a haunted house prepares for

the joyful family reunion of an

extended supernatural clan. Written

in 1946 (62 years before Neil

Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book) the

story follows a young boy named

Tim who has the distinction of

being the only human in a large

family of ghosts and vampires and

magical entities. Tim just wants

to fit in, and his family accepts

him for what he is – mortal.

Bradbury is a master of creating

existential characters that push

previous conceptions of ghouls and

beasties into new territory; a true

celebration of all things Halloween.

6. Season of Disbelief: This is not a

story that warms the heart or leaves

one satisfied. It is a cruel story,

disavowing all that is good about

memories and age and wisdom.

Neighborhood children criticize

and bully kindly old Mrs. Bentley

into believing she was never young,

never had a first name, and that

all of her memories are lies. In

today’s internet generation of

throwaway media and reducing all

communication to soundbytes, this

her attend a dance and act like she

is having fun. The attraction to this

particular story lies in Cecy’s ability

to enchant, and her longing to be

able to love a human. Full of hope

and longing and frailty, this is a

sweet story with dark undertones

of possession and trickery.

8. The Magical Kitchen: this story uses

humor in a way that demonstrates

that what appears to be broken

does not necessarily need to be

fixed. No one in the large boarding

house, including the Dandelion

Wine protagonist Douglas, can ever

figure out exactly what it is they are

eating – but it is beyond delicious.

When Aunt Rose comes to visit,

she decides that it is up to her to

‘fix’ Grandmother’s disorganized

kitchen ways. Everything plunges

into unedible chaos until young

Douglas makes a key decision which

returns everything back to normal,

and leaves Aunt Roses’ luggage

packed and left at the front door

for her immediate departure. It is

Bradbury’s use of language that

turns this into an extraordinary

work of literary art, demonstrating

an amazing ability to say ‘they ate

dinner’ in one thousand and one

different and magical ways.

10. Dark, They Were, and Gold-en-eyed: This is one of

Bradbury’s delicately dreamy stories

about a father living on Mars who

wants to return to earth with his

family. The characters transform in

this tale, losing their fear and their

memories and their human form

as they slowly turn into Martians.

This can easily be called a “green”

story today, as the characters forsake

the human houses for the Martian

villas. What makes this tale so good

is that it promotes the idea that

man cannot control outer space –

that no matter how many rockets

the humans build or how many

colonists they send into the stars,

humans will be forced to adapt to

the new environment instead of the

other way around.

9. The April Witch: can only be described

as ‘spellbinding’. The reader follows

a wisp of a spirit named Cecy as

she drifts through the farmlands

in search of love. Cecy is from a

magical family, and she is able to

take over the living body of Ann, a

young farm girl. Cecy forces Ann to

be kind to Tom, a boy whom Ann

does not particularly like, making

Top 10 short stories

story is particularly visionary and

chilling.

5. The Fog Horn ( The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms): For anyone who ever delighted in

Lovecraft’s tales of Older Than Old

Gods, as well as those people who

believe in the Loch Ness Monster

and Krakens so big they could

pull an entire ship down into the

depths of the world… this story

is a favorite. Imagine the loneliness

of a great sea monster, drawn out

of the darkest waters of the ocean

by the possibility of the voice of

a contemporary, and then finding

out that it is not a friend, but a

fog horn. A simple story, but full

of irony and dark subterranean

possibilities.

4. Tomorrow’s Child: Imagine loving a child

so much that you would be willing

to leave one dimension in order to

co-exist with the child in another

dimension? The final sentences

describing a reunited family of

geometric shapes cavorting together

is brilliant. This story ranks #4 for

its blatant originality and perfect

blending of the words ‘science’ and

‘fiction’.

3. All Summer in a Day: This story has been

a staple of middle school language

arts programs for years, and

with good reason. Humans have

colonized the planet Venus, where it

rains every day; the sun only comes

out for two hours every seven years.

The story focuses on a classroom

of children that are anticipating

this moment of sunshine. Margot,

a quiet child, is the only one who

can remember ever having seen the

sun before. She desperately misses

the sun, and cannot wait for the

moment when the rain stops. The

other students tease and bully her

for her memories, and eventually

lock her in a closet, thus causing her

to miss the sunshine. Heartbreaking

and leaving no illusion to the

cruelties of children, the tale is

one of Bradbury’s best examples

of mankind excluding someone

because they are ‘different’.

2. The Sound of Thunder: By far one of

the most singularly frightening of

all stories ever written, Bradbury

explores the idea that one tiny

mistake which occurs on a

prehistoric time travel hunting

expedition can change the history

of the entire world. The scope and

sequence of the words and images

are incomparable, and even though

several movies have been made of

this story, none of them have done

justice to the fear generated by the

written word. Begs to question

science and inventions and the idea

that this could really happen.

1. The Veldt: The best

of the best. Bradbury imagines

a world of enormous flat screen

TVs, interactive video game

playing, the future generation of

children indifferent to violence or

homicide, and smart houses 50

years before it is ever invented. But

in a twist of futuristic fate, the

lions on the screens are not just

images – they are real. A spoiled

brother and sister cannot tolerate

rules or restrictions, and decide it

is better to sacrifice their parents to

the lions on the video screens then

live within parameters. This story

is more horror then science fiction,

somehow implying that there is

rationality in the irrational and no

need for remorse when involved

with acts of murder.

Ray Bradbury

ALL THE WAY

Don’t let anyone say that it’s just a gameFor I’ve seen other teams and it’s never the sameWhen you’re born in Chica-go you’re blessed and you’re healedThe first time you walk into Wrigley FieldOur heroes wear pinstripesHeroes in blueGive us the chance to feel like heroes tooForever we’ll win and if we should loseWe know someday we’ll go all the wayYeahSomeday we’ll go all the wayWe are one with the CubsWith the Cubs we’re in loveYeah, hold our head high as the underdogsWe are not fair-weather but foul-weather fansWe’re like brothers in arms in the streets and the standsThere’s magic in the ivy and the old scoreboardThe same one I stared at as a kid keeping scoreIn a world full of greed, I could never want moreThan someday we’ll go all the way

YeahSomeday we’ll go all the wayAnd here’s to the men and the legends we’ve knownTeaching us faith and giving us hopeUnited we stand and united we’ll fallDown to our knees the day we win it allErnie Banks said “Oh, let’s play two”Or did he mean 200 yearsIn the same ball parkOur diamond, our jewelThe home of our joy and our tearsKeeping traditions and wish-es made newA place where our grandfa-thers, fathers they grewA spiritual feeling if I ever knewAnd if you ain’t been I am sorry for youAnd when the day comes with that last winning runAnd I’m crying and covered in beerI’ll look to the sky and know I was rightTo think someday we’ll go all the wayYeahSomeday we’ll go all the way

eddie VEDDER

2Fallingwater: Mill Run, Pennsylvania

The woodsy setting is

no mere backdrop for

Fallingwater, but rather

an integral part of the

dramatic design—the

cantilevered home seems

to defy gravity above

the flowing water. Just

90 minutes outside of

Pittsburgh, the 1936

home is arguably the

most famous of Wright-

designed private residences

and can be experienced

through a variety of tours.

Also nearby is another

FLW home,

Kentuck Knob.

1Wright Home and Studio: Oak Park, Chicago

From the street, Frank

Lloyd Wright’s home and

studio (1888–1898)

may seem lacking his

characteristic style. But a

closer look reveals intricate

stylized details and and a

more dramatic sideview.

Designed when he was

just 22, the architect

worked and lived here

for 20 years. In addition

to the “Birthplace of

Prairie style,” the Chicago

neighborhood of Oak Park

is also home to Wright’s

famed Unity Temple.

3Taliesin West: Scottsdale, Arizona

Wright’s Arizona home

and studio (not to be

confused with Taliesin

in Wisconsin), is well

worth the detour from

downtown Scottsdale.

The “desert camp” uses

natural elements that

blend into the surrounding

Sonoran landscape, is a

striking example of the

artist’s influence on organic

architecture. Construction

began in 1927 and

students who still come

to learn surrounded by

Wright’s legacy in Taliesin

West’s theaters and

working studios.

SIXmost famous

6Robie House: Chicago, Illinois

Closer to downtown

Chicago then Wright’s

Oak Park home and

studio, the Robie House

(1908–1910) is another

example of the “long and

low” Prairie style that

would become a hallmark

of Wright’s career. Take a

tour to get a closer look at

the home’s small and large

innovations, ranging from

an intercom system to the

three-car garage.

5Guggenheim Museum: New York, New York

In the middle of New

York City’s Museum

Mile, the Guggenheim

stands in stark contrast to

the surrounding classical

institutions. The iconic

swirling design is as much

a part of the interior as

the exterior, and provides

a striking setting for the

modern art on display. As

one of Wright’s last major

works, the building opened

to the public in 1959,

shortly after his death.

4Taliesin: Spring Green, Wisconsin

Like the bow of a ship,

Wright’s Wisconsin

home rises above the

surrounding hills. From

the initial construction in

1911 up to the architect’s

death in 1959, the estate’s

buildings were constantly

changing—through

new construction and

2011 marks the estate’s

centennial. Be sure to

explore beyond the

grounds and choose a tour

that includes the interiors,

which showcases Wright’s

many influences, such as

Japanese art.

frank lloyd wright

peace FROG

There’s blood in the streets it’s up to my ankles, Blood in the streets it’s up to my knee; Blood in the streets, the town of Chicago.

Blood on the rise, it’s follow-ing me. Just about the break of day.

She came, then she drove away, Sunlight in her hair.

Blood on the streets runs a river of sadness. Blood in the streets, it’s up to my thigh. The river runs down the legs of the city;

The women are crying red rivers of weeping.

She came in town and then she went away, Sunlight in her hair.

Indians scattered on dawn’s highway. Bleeding ghosts crowd the young childs fragile eggshell mind.

Blood in the streets of the town of New Haven; Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of Venice. Blood in my love in the ter-rible summer; Bloody red sun of fantastic L.A. Blood screams her brain as they chop off her fingers. Blood will be born in the birth of a nation; Blood is the rose of mysteri-ous union. There’s blood in the streets it’s up to my ankles, Blood in the streets it’s up to my knee; Blood in the streets, the town of Chicago.

Blood on the rise, it’s following me.

the DOORS

7. Laurie DannOn May 20, 1988, Laurie Dann shot

six children in a school in Winnetka,

leaving one dead, then took a family

hostage and shot a college student before

taking her own life.

8. Brian DuganBrian Dugan had already been

convicted of two murders when he

confessed to the 1983 murder and

rape of 10-year-old Jeanine Nicarico

in Naperville. Originally, three men

were wrongly sent to death row for the

murder, but last year, Dugan pleaded

guilty and was himself sentenced

to death.

9. John Wayne GacyJohn Wayne Gacy was known for

many years around his neighborhood

as a Democratic precinct captain and a

birthday party clown. But in December

1978, police discovered 29 bodies

buried in a crawl space of his house and

the surrounding yard in unincorporated

Norwood Park Township. Another four

bodies were found in the Des Plaines

River.

4. Floyd DurrConvicted sex offender Floyd Durr

pleaded guilty to the murder of 11-year-

old Ryan Harris, whose partially naked

body was found in August 1998 in an

Englewood neighborhood backyard.

Before DNA evidence led to Durr, two

boys, ages 7 and 8, were accused of the

crime, but charges were dropped.

5. Kenneth HansenKenneth Hansen was convicted 1994

for the cold case murders of Robert

Peterson and John Schuessler, both 13,

and 11-year-old Tony Schuessler, whose

bodies were found in Robinson Woods

near the Des Plaines River after the boys

went to see a movie 1955. Hansen died

in 2007.

6. Juan Luna, James Degorski

On Jan. 8, 1993, seven people were

shot and stabbed to death in a robbery

that netted less than $2,000 at a Brown’s

Chicken Restaurant in Palatine. Juan

Luna (left) was convicted of the murders

and sentenced to life in prison in 2007.

His accomplice, James Degorski (right),

was convicted two years later and also

sentenced to life.

1. Ted KacyznskiBetter known as the “Unabomber”,

this tasty Chicago relic was born in

Chicago in 1942, where he immediately

was on track to become a great

mathematician. He was accepted to

Harvard at age 16, obtained a Ph.D. in

Mathematics from the University of

Michigan, and was an assistant professor

at Cal-Berkeley by the age of 25. He

sent out 16 bombs to locations across

the country, which initiated one of the

costliest FBI investigations in history.

2. Silas JayneHorse breeder Silas Jayne was

convicted of murdering his brother,

George, in 1970. His name later

surfaced in several other criminal cases,

including the disappearance of candy

heiress Helen Voorhees Brach.

3. David MaustDavid Maust pleaded guilty to killing

Michael Dennis, 13; James Raganyi, 16;

and Nick James, 19, and burying their

bodies in his basement in Hammond,

Ind. Maust was also convicted of killing

a boy near Elgin in 1981, and killing

a teenager while in the U.S. Army in

Germany. Maust committed suicide in

prison in January 2006.

18

13. William HeirensWilliam Heirens was convicted first

of the 1945 slayings of Frances Brown,

32, and Josephine Ross, 43, then the

dismemberment of 6-year-old Suzanne

Degnan the following year. Heirens has

spent more than 62 years in prison and

is eligible for parole, but it was denied

in 2007.

14.Adolph LuetgertAdolph Luetgert was known as the

“sausage king” of Chicago in the late

19th century. But after his wife, Louise,

disappeared in 1897, police discovered

that he had murdered her and dissolved

her body in a vat of acid in his Diversey

Parkway factory. Chicago author Robert

Loerzel documented the case in his

book, Alchemy of Bones.

15. Leopold & LoebIn a quest to commit the “perfect

crime” as Nietzschean supermen,

University of Chicago student Nathan

Leopold (right) and his friend Richard

Loeb kidnapped 14-year-old Bobby

Franks and stabbed him to death with a

chisel on May 21, 1924. Storied defense

attorney Clarence Darrow succeeded in

preventing them from being sent to

the gallows.

10. Patty Columbo, Frank DeLuca

Patty Columbo, 19 at the time, and

her older 37-year-old lover, Frank

DeLuca, broke into Columbo’s family

home in Elk Grove Village and brutally

murdered her mother, Mary, her father,

Frank, and her brother, Michael, on May

4, 1976. Thirteen-year-old Michael was

stabbed 87 times. Columbo and DeLuca

were sentenced to 200 to 300 years

in prison.

11. John DillingerA string of bank robberies all over the

Midwest in the 1930s led John Dillinger

to be named Public Enemy No. 1. He

was gunned down by FBI agents at the

Biograph Theatre on Lincoln Avenue

in 1934.

12. Richard SpeckRichard Speck broke into a Southeast

Side dormitory and killed eight student

nurses on July 13, 1966. Three decades

after the crime and even five years

after his own death, Speck was still

making headlines and drawing ire from

prosecutors and victims’ families who

saw him mocking the justice system.

16. Al CaponeAl Capone came to Chicago from

Brooklyn in 1919, and soon became

head of the Chicago mob, raking in

millions a year in both illegal and

legitimate industries. But the height

of his infamy came in 1929, when

he ordered the St. Valentine’s Day

Massacre. Capone’s associates gunned

down seven people inside a warehouse at

2122 N. Clark St. in the Lincoln Park

neighborhood – which was used by rival

bootlegger George “Bugs” Moran.

17. Bart RossFederal Judge Joan Lefkow discovered

the bodies of her husband and mother

murdered in her North Side home on

Feb. 28, 2005. Later, Bart Ross left a

suicide note confessing the crimes and

shot himself in Wisconsin. Judge Lefkow

had dismissed a civil rights lawsuit in

which Ross claimed doctors disfigured

him when they treated his cancer

18. H.H. HolmesH.H. Holmes, known as America’s

first serial killer, confessed to the murder

of 27 people in the 1890s. He lured his

victims into a hotel he opened at 63rd

and Wallace streets for the 1893 World’s

Columbian Exposition.FAMOUS CRIMINALS

hitch hike

I’m going to Chicago that’s the last place my baby stayed. I’m packing up my bags I’m gonna leave this town right away. I’m gonna find that girl if I have to hitch hike around the world.

“Chicago City” that’s what the sign on the freeway read. I’m gonna keep on going ‘til I get to that street’s called 6th andMain. I’ve gotta find that girl if i have to hitch hike around the world .

C’mon hitch hike Hitch hike children

Hitch hike Hitch hike baby Hitch hike Hitch hike baby C’mon hitch hike Hitch hike darling

I’m going to St. Louis but my next stop just might be L.A.,that’s what I say. I got no money in my pocket so i’m going to have to hitch hike allthe way. I’m gonna find that girl if i have to hitch hike around the world

C’mon hitch hike Hitch hike children Hitch hike Hitch hike baby Hitch hike Hitch hike baby C’mon hitch hike Hitch hike children

Now c’mon c’mon hitch hike Hitch hike children Hitch hike Hitch hike darling C’mon hitch hike Hitch hike children Hitch hike hitch hike Hitch hike baby

ROLLINGSTONES

the

on his saucer with his glass. The younger waiter went over to him.

“What do you want?”

The old man looked at him. “Another bran-dy,” he said.

“You’ll be drunk,” the waiter said. The old man looked at him. The waiter went away.

“He’ll stay all night,” he said to his col-league. “I’m sleepy now. I never get into bed before three o’clock. He should have killed himself last week.”

The waiter took the brandy bottle and an-other saucer from the counter inside the cafe and marched out to the old man’s table. He put down the saucer and poured the glass full of brandy.

“You should have killed yourself last week,” he said to the deaf man. The old man mo-tioned with his finger.

“A little more,” he said. The waiter poured on into the glass so that the brandy slopped over and ran down the stem into the top saucer of the pile. “Thank you,” the old man said. The waiter took the bottle back inside the cafe. He sat down at the table with his colleague again.

“He’s drunk now,” he said.

“He’s drunk every night.”

“What did he want to kill himself for?”

“How should I know.”

“How did he do it?”

“He hung himself with a rope.”

“Who cut him down?”

“His niece.”

“Why did they do it?”

it was late and every one had left the cafe except an old man who sat in the shadow the leaves of the tree made against the electric light. In the day time the street was dusty; but at night the dew settled the dust and the old man liked to sit late be-cause he was deaf and now at night it was quiet and he felt the difference. The two waiters inside the cafe knew that the old man was a little drunk, and while he was a good client they knew that if he became too drunk he would leave without paying, so they kept watch on him.

“Last week he tried to commit suicide,” one waiter said.

“Why?”

“He was in despair.”

“What about?”

“Nothing.”

“How do you know it was nothing?”

“He has plenty of money.”

They sat together at a table that was close against the wall near the door of the cafe and looked at the terrace where the tables were all empty except where the old man sat in the shadow of the leaves of the tree that moved slightly in the wind. A girl and a soldier went by in the street. The street light shone on the brass number on his col-lar. The girl wore no head covering and hur-ried beside him.

“The guard will pick him up,” one waiter said.

“What does it matter if he gets what he’s after?”

“He had better get off the street now. The guard will get him. They went by five min-utes ago.”

The old man sitting in the shadow rapped

“Fear for his soul.”

“How much money has he got?”

“He’s got plenty.”

“He must be eighty years old.”

“Anyway I should say he was eighty.”

“I wish he would go home. I never get to bed before three o’clock. What kind of hour is that to go to bed?”

“He stays up because he likes it.”

“He’s lonely. I’m not lonely. I have a wife waiting in bed for me.”

“He had a wife once too.”

“A wife would be no good to him now.”

“You can’t tell. He might be better with a wife.”

“His niece looks after him. You said she cut him down.”

“I know.”

“I wouldn’t want to be that old. An old man is a nasty thing.”

“Not always. This old man is clean. He drinks without spilling. Even now, drunk. Look at him.”

“I don’t want to look at him. I wish he would go home. He has no regard for those who must work.”

The old man looked from his glass across the square, then over at the waiters. “An-other brandy,” he said, pointing to his glass. The waiter who was in a hurry came over.

“Finished,” he said, speaking with that omission of syntax stupid people employ when talking to drunken people or foreign-ers. “No more tonight. Close now.”

A Clea

n, Well-

Lighte

d Plac

e

was only that and light was all it needed and a certain cleanness and order. Some lived in it and never felt it but he knew it was all nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada. Our nada who art in nada, nada be thy name thy kingdom nada thy will be nada in nada as it is in nada. Give us this nada our daily nada and nada us our nada as we nada our nadas and nada us not into nada but deliver us from nada; pues nada. Hail nothing full of nothing, nothing is with thee. He smiled and stood before a bar with a shining steam pressure coffee machine.

“What’s yours?” asked the barman.

“Nada.”

“Otro loco mas,” said the barman and turned away.

“A little cup,” said the waiter.

The barman poured it for him.

“The light is very bright and pleasant but the bar is unpolished,” the waiter said.

The barman looked at him but did not an-swer. It was too late at night for conversa-tion.

“You want another copita?” the barman asked.

“No, thank you,” said the waiter and went out. He disliked bars and bodegas. A clean, well-lighted cafe was a very different thing. Now, without thinking further, he would go home to his room. He would lie in the bed and finally, with daylight, he would go to sleep. After all, he said to himself, it is probably only insomnia. Many must have it.

“And what do you lack?”

“Everything but work.”

“You have everything I have.”

“No. I have never had confidence and l’m not young.”

“Come on. Stop talking nonsense and lock up.”

“I am of those who like to stay late at the cafe,” the older waiter said. “With all those who do not want to go to bed. With all those who need a light for the night.”

“I want to go home and into bed.”

“We are of two different kinds,” the old-er waiter said. He was now dressed to go home. “It is not only a question of youth and confidence although those things are very beautiful. Each night I am reluctant to close up because there may be some one who needs the cafe.”

“Hombre, there are bodegas open all night long.”

“You do not understand. This is a clean and pleasant cafe. It is well lighted. The light is very good and also, now, there are shadows of the leaves.”

“Good night,” said the younger waiter.

“Good night,” the other said. Turning off the electric light he continued the conversa-tion with himself. It is the light of course but it is necessary that the place be clean and light.

You do not want music.

Certainly you do not want music. Nor can you stand before a bar with dignity although that is all that is provided for these hours. What did he fear? It was not fear or dread. It was a nothing that he knew too well. It was all a nothing and a man was nothing too. It

“Another,” said the old man.

“No. Finished.” The waiter wiped the edge of the table with a towel and shook his head.

The old man stood up, slowly counted the saucers, took a leather coin purse from his pocket and paid for the drinks, leaving half a peseta tip.

The waiter watched him go down the street, a very old man walking unsteadily but with dignity.

“Why didn’t you let him stay and drink?” the unhurried waiter asked. They were put-ting up the shutters. “It is not half-past two.”

“I want to go home to bed.”

“What is an hour?”

“More to me than to him.”

“An hour is the same.”

“You talk like an old man yourself. He can buy a bottle and drink at home.”

“It’s not the same.”

“No, it is not,” agreed the waiter with a wife. He did not wish to be unjust. He was only in a hurry.

“And you? You have no fear of going home before your usual hour?”

“Are you trying to insult me?”

“No, hombre, only to make a joke.”

“No,” the waiter who was in a hurry said, rising from putting on the metal shutters.

“I have confidence. I am all confidence.”

“You have youth, confidence, and a job,” the older waiter said. “You have everything.”

Ernest Hemingway

MY KIND OF TOWN

Now this could only happen to a guy like me.

And only happen in a town like this.

So may I say to each of you most gratefully.

As I throw each one of you a kiss:

This is my kind of town.

Chicago is,My kind of town,Chicago is,

My kind of people, too;People who smile at you,

And each time I roam, Chi-cago is,Callin’ me home, Chicago is,

Why I just grin like a clown;

My kind of town.

Chicago is my kind of town.

Chicago is my kind of razzmatazzAnd it has all that jazz,

And each time I leave, Chi-cago is,Tuggin’ my sleeve, Chicago is,

The Wrigley Building,Chicago is,

The Union Stockyards, Chi-cago is,

One town that won’t let you down;

It’s my kind of town.

frank sinatra

Chicago