Tag: Chicago

Adrian Stanislovaitis


Holy Cross School, 1971

Even though Adrian and I lost touch after our eighth-grade graduation, I often remembered him whenever I went to the Museum of Science and Industry, the Chicago Loop, or walked past the Prudential Building. Because I fondly remembered him from time to time, I mentioned him in one of my blog entries, which is why I’m here today. His daughter Victoria searched for Adrian’s name on the internet and landed on one of my blog posts that mentioned Adrian Stanislovaitis. So, here I am. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to have one last encounter with Adrian and his loving family and friends.

Labas! I learned the Lithuanian greeting of “Labas!” from my Lithuanian friends in Chicago. I attended a Lithuanian church and school in Chicago’s Back of the Yards neighborhood, from kindergarten through eighth grade when I graduated.

I met Adrian at Holy Cross Grade School in the fourth grade. We were classmates from the fourth grade through the eighth grade. Unfortunately, our eighth-grade graduation in June of 1971 was the last time we saw each other.

We spent a lot of time together even though Adrian and his brother Renatas  lived more than one mile away from the school. Most of the Holy Cross  students lived only a few blocks away from the school. I lived two blocks away at 4405 S. Wood Street.

We spent a lot of time together during those years. We were also altar boys together. We had a lot in common. However, I was the oldest of six children, and I had never done much without at least one of my parents taking me somewhere. That all changed when I met Adrian. He was like the wiser older brother to me. Since he lived so far from the school, he was very independent and knew his way around Chicago.

In grade school, we had school days off for federal holidays like Columbus Day, George Washington’s Birthday, and Abraham Lincoln’s Birthday. When we were in the fifth grade, Adrian suggested that we go to downtown Chicago on our day off. I wondered who would take us there since our parents were working. Adrian said that we would take the bus downtown by ourselves! I had never heard of such a thing! Going downtown without an adult?! We were only twelve years old at the time.

Adrian met me at my house, and we took the Number 9 Ashland-Archer bus downtown. We went to the gift shops and ate at a restaurant downtown. The most memorable event for me involved going to the top of the Prudential Building downtown. We were truly impressed because it was the tallest building in Chicago at the time. Every time I go downtown and see the Prudential Building, I recall going up there with Adrian. Adrian always had great activity suggestions for us!

Once, we went to the Museum of Science and Industry by bus. He had all the logistics figured out. Since it was a school holiday, we had the day off from school. I said I couldn’t go because I had to watch my three younger brothers. Adrian said we could all go together. Since he lived on 55th and Wood Street, right off of Garfield Boulevard, he would walk to the corner of Ashland Avenue and Garfield Boulevard. My brothers and I would take the Ashland bus to Garfield Boulevard where we would transfer buses. We met Adrian on the corner and boarded the Garfield bus that took us directly to the museum. We spent the whole day there. And we spent all our money there, except for just enough bus fare for my brothers and me to be to take the Garfield bus to Wood Street where Adrian lived. And my brothers and I walked eleven blocks on Wood Street to get home. My brothers and I fondly remember that trip.

One day, Adrian was telling me how he saw a very funny movie over the weekend. He told me that on Friday and Saturday nights they showed comedies late at night. He told me I had to see The Marx Brothers in Duck Soup. He described the funny parts to me, and I was hooked. I would stay up late on weekends watching comedies. Duck Soup is still my favorite Marx Brothers movie.

Once when Adrian was at my house, my father took us to visit my uncle in Pilsen. My uncle was frying tortillas and baloney when we arrived. I was kind of embarrassed that Adrian had to see my father and uncle frying and eating baloney tacos. I couldn’t stand the smell of them. I only ate one bite of my baloney taco and said I didn’t like it. My father and uncle said they were really good. I told Adrian that he shouldn’t have any. But my father convinced him to try one. I was so embarrassed by my father and uncle offering a baloney taco to Adrian. But Adrian said the baloney taco was really good! In fact, he ate two more!

Adrian loved his planes, trains, and automobiles. When planes flew overhead, he would tell me everything he knew about the plane. He was able to identify every plane we saw and state the manufacturer of the plane and the model. I asked him why he knew so much about planes. He said that he would be a pilot someday. When I visited his house, he pulled out his Jane’s airplane books and showed me why he could recognize every plane in the sky.

I also learned about model trains from Adrian. Because of him, I started collecting N-gauge trains. Adrian also knew a lot about cars. If a car drove by us, he could tell me the year, make, and model of the car. He could identify a car just by looking at its taillights. He also like to build model cars. He got me to enter a hobby store contest for building car models.

caricature of author at end of post
DDR

The two longest Chicago games


I’m a Chicago sports fan!

I was having lunch with my son Alex and my brother Danny when I thought that we should go to a baseball game. And I can tell you the exact date of our lunch. July 29, 2014. You will learn why I remember the exact date as you read on.

Anyway, we’re having lunch and I suggest that we go to a baseball game. I believe the only Chicago baseball team playing that day was the Cubs. My son and I are White Sox fans, but we’re not anti-Cubs fans. In fact, we’re Chicago fans! My brother Danny really isn’t into sports but has gone to baseball games with us as a family. So, I suggest that we go to a Cubs game that evening.

My son agrees, but Danny immediately says no. He says, “The last time I went to a baseball game with you, it was the longest baseball game ever!”

Then I remembered. It was my birthday and my youngest brother Joey suggested that we go to a White Sox game for my birthday. We went on May 8th because my birthday was the next day on May 9th. So, we, my father, brothers Danny, Jerry, Rick, Joey, my sister Delia, and I went to the White Sox game on May 8th , 1984.

Well, the game went into extra innings with a tie score and at midnight, the officials suspended the game to be continued the next day. We returned to Comiskey park the next day, my birthday, May 9th. The game finally ended when Harold Baines hit a homerun in the 25th inning for the White Sox victory of 7-6. This was the longest baseball game ever; it took 8 hours and 6 minutes to complete. And the regularly scheduled game for that night also went into extra innings!

Flashforward to our lunch with my son and brother. Danny says, “I don’t want to go to another long baseball game!”

“What are the odds of that ever happening again?” I asked. He still refused to go with us. “You’re going to miss out on a good game!” I said.

My son and I went to the Cubs game that night. You’ll never guess what we witnessed! The longest Chicago Cubs game in club history! My brother Danny called it when he refused to go to the game with us.

Well, the game lasted 16 innings and ended at 2:00 A.M. after 6 hours and 27 minutes of play. I texted my brother and he was joyful that he didn’t come to the game with us! I was ecstatic that I had witnessed the two longest baseball games in Chicago history.

A couple years ago, my son Alex told me that he really didn’t believe me about the longest White Sox game ever. But then he saw the replay of the game on TV. I didn’t watch the game, but I told him that the game ended when Harold Baines hit a homerun. It was only then that he believed me.

DDR

South Side Story


Holy Cross Church

I learned a lot about Chicago when I attended Divine Heart Seminary in Donaldson, Indiana. For example, in my World History class, we went on a field trip to Chicago to visit the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago in Hyde Park. My father had taken us to what I thought were all the museums Chicago had to offer. Mr. Gibson, our history teacher merely told us were going on a field trip without any further explanation.

As we approached Chicago, I was surprised we were going to Chicago for our field trip. Even though we had visited the Museum of Science and Industry many times, I had no idea the Oriental Institute was nearby. I was very impressed by the museum. I was surprised by the many things I learned at the seminary. None of them relating to becoming a priest.

I learned that people in Indiana were fascinated with Chicago and visited my city quite often. Some of my classmates often asked what it was like to live in Chicago. They wanted details! To me, these were mundane facts, but I told them how I lived on the south side of Chicago, near where the Union Stockyards used to be. I told them how I attended a Lithuanian Catholic church and school, how I used to deliver the Chicago Sun-Times, Tribune, Daily News, American, and Today. I also delivered to Polish newspapers, the Daily Zgoda and the Chicagowski (I’m not making this name up!). These rural classmates of mine were truly fascinated by all these details.

Occasionally, I went home on weekends. The first few times, I took a Greyhound bus from Plymouth, Indiana, to downtown Chicago. And then I would take the CTA the rest of the way home. One of my classmates, Jim, was so curious about Chicago that he offered to have his mother take me to White Sox park, which was close enough to home so my father would pick me up. He lived in Whiting, Indiana, so his mother wasn’t driving that far out of the way. He was so excited to be in Chicago! He enjoyed waiting with me for my father in the stadium parking lot. We did this a couple more times.

One of the activities we did together as seminarians was watch television premieres of blockbuster movies. I remember watching Love Story because the upperclassmen made it sound like the coolest movie ever! I was surprised that many of my fellow seminarians cried at the end. There was a lot excitement when West Side Story was scheduled. I must confess that I had never seen the movie. In fact, I had never even heard of West Side Story. Everyone was shocked by ignorance. They just assumed I had seen the movie. I had no idea what the movie was about, and I was afraid to ask after all the teasing I suffered.

Well, I loved the movie! I loved the movie, the acting, the music, and the dancing. But I especially loved Natalie Wood as Maria. Of course, many seminarians were crying at the end. I couldn’t believe how these supposedly tough guys cried so easily.

Anyway, West Side Story suddenly made me the expert on gang life because I was from Chicago. I was always asked questions about the movie, gangs, and what it was like to be Puerto Rican. I explained that I was not qualified to say what is was like to be Puerto Rican because I was Mexican. That didn’t matter. The questions continued.

The next time we had a holiday weekend, my friend Jim offered to have his mother take me all the way to my house. All the way home, he kept asking if there gangs in my neighborhood. If the gangs were like the ones in West Side Story. If I ever saw anyone stabbed. The questions just kept coming all the way home.

I told him that, yes, our neighborhood did have gangs, but they didn’t dance like in West Side Story. I did see someone who was stabbed, but the not the actual stabbing. Jim kept prodding me for details. I told him about how a rival gang drove into our neighborhood to challenge our local gang. They shouted from their car as they drove past them as they played baseball in the park. Suddenly, their car stalled. Our gang ran up to the car with baseball bats. They hit the car a few times before it started up again and they took off.

I told Jim all these details, and then some, and he was enthralled by these stories. On the way home, he asked me where exactly I saw the stabbed person. His mother was interested, too, so we drove past the exact spot where I saw the stabbed person picked up by an ambulance. Before they drove me home, I had to show them where the rival gang’s car had stalled and where the other gang was playing baseball. Jim and his mother loved the tour I gave them. They finally took me home.

When I returned to the seminary after that weekend, I felt that everyone looked at me differently. Obviously, Jim had told everyone about his south side tour on the way to my house. To me, my life was just a normal life.

Running laps


Photo by Mikhail Nilov on Pexels.com

Ideally, I enjoy running one, and only, one lap. However, running is seldom ideal and occasionally we must run more than one lap. Last summer, I found my ideal running course, ideal for me, anyway. About nine miles with gently rolling hills and enough variety in scenery to keep my run interesting. I saw and greeted enough runners on this course to make me feel like I was running with someone else. This course was perfect for me! Especially since it was only one lap long!

However, during the fall, the days became shorter, and darkness covered the course much earlier than I would have liked. The first few runs of shortened daylight, I ended my run in darkness. When I lived in Chicago, this wasn’t a problem because of the streetlights. However, in Glendale Heights and Glen Ellyn, there were no streetlights anywhere except downtown. I was running in the dark. And I could barely see where I was running. I was also blinded by the headlights of oncoming cars. I had to adjust my starting time so I could finish my run by dusk when I could still see.

Then in addition to the shortened days, I also had to contend with one of the wintriest winters of my life. The first snowfall, I was able to run my usual course as the snow was fluffy and fun to run in. However, as the snow melted and refroze into ice, it became a slippery hazard, especially on the downhills. The first time I encountered an icy downhill, I re-pulled my already pulled left hamstring. I had only run about a quarter mile, but I had to limp back home at a slow trot, even slower than my already slow pace. I was able to run my course a few more times until repeated snowstorms struck. Not only was my running course dark by 4:30 P.M., but it was also at least ankle-deep in snow in ice in most places. Not everyone shoveled their sidewalks.

I was just getting into the groove of running, so I didn’t want to slow down during the winter. Before I started running this nine-mile course, I was running laps around our housing complex. Each lap was about 0.9 of a mile. I ran five laps as many times per week as my body would allow for 4.5 miles. I’m quite sure the lap was 0.9 of a mile because I measured it with my iPhone 2, my car, my Samsung Galaxy Note 2, and my car again just to confirm the distance. So, I was sure I was running 0.9 of a mile with each lap. And the reason I was running laps in our complex was that I lacked the self-confidence to go out and run on an out-and-back course. I was afraid I wouldn’t have the endurance to finish, and I would be stranded miles from home.

Anyway, once the snow and ice accumulated on my running course, I began running laps again, out of necessity. What I hate about running laps is that they’re repetitive, but because they’re repetitive, I also find comfort in running laps. Despite the snow and ice outside of our complex, snowplows cleared the street of our housing complex, and the street was salted so I had a good running surface on most days. I ran ten laps on most days last winter. I didn’t run on the coldest day of the year because my wife was told she didn’t have to go to work because of the extreme cold and so she was home to forbid me from exiting our front door. Otherwise, I would have run that day, too. Don’t get me wrong, but I enjoyed not having to brave the elements that day. Thank you, wife! Especially, for the hot chocolate you made me that day.

One thing I learned from running laps is that life is also about running laps. We do many things repeatedly in life and running. In running, it’s left foot, right foot, repeat. And I keep repeating putting one foot in front of the other until I finish running my desired distance. Or, until I can’t run any longer, for whatever reason, extreme weather, or lack of desire or endurance. In life, we repeat many things such as education: grade school, high school, college, graduate school. I have run many laps in my life, in many different areas, but it’s all repetition. I choose to enjoy the repetition of these laps because of the comfort they provide. I enjoy the comfort of life’s laps.

However, when I run, I still prefer to run only one lap!

Happy Mother’s Day!


My mother Carmen and I, Perth Amboy, New Jersey, 1956.

Happy Mother’s Day to every mothers everywhere! Yesterday and today!

Yesterday, no , today is Mother’s Day in the U.S., but yesterday was Mother’s Day in México because Mother’s Day is always celebrated on May 10th in México. I was born on May 9th, so my mother would usually tell me how she had hoped I would have been born on Mexican Mother’s Day, May 10th. When I was a boy, she usually told me this either on my birthday or on May 10th, or more often than not, on both days. She also told me how she was hoping for a girl during her entire pregnancy. I would have been Debbie, but I turned out to be a boy.

Unfortunately, my mother is no longer around for us to spend the day with her. She always wanted to have grandchildren from me, but my children weren’t born until long after she passed away. So my oldest son only knew his maternal grandmother until he was almost two years old because she, unfortunately, passed away from ovarian cancer, but he never met his paternal grandmother, my mother. And my twins never met either grandmother at all. I feel that my sons were deprived of some wonderful experiences by not having had grandmothers in their childhood.

The happiest days of my childhood were the days when my parents were still married and my grandmother and tía Matilde were living with us in Chicago. My mother was always so happy having her mother in the house. Everyone needs a mother. And to have a mother and grandmother in your life is to be doubly blessed!

Happy Mother’s Day!

DDR