Museum of Science and Industry

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 55^th 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

So, I was at the gas station at 55th and Ashland this morning filling up my tank. The first thing I thought of was how this used to be my neighborhood on the outer boundary of Back of the Yards. I used to wait on this corner for the bus whenever we went to the Museum of Science and Industry. Sometimes we would eat at the Burger King on the corner there. I used to deliver newspapers in that neighborhood. Then, the neighborhood changed, and it became the “bad side of town,” but when I hear that, I have to laugh because it was also called the “bad side of town” when I lived there in the 1960s. So, I’m getting gas there this morning and I’m getting dirty looks from people who think I shouldn’t be on their turf. I just smile at them, knowing they don’t know that I feel comfortable right there on their turf because it’s still my turf.

The second thing I thought of was Bob Bloom Roofing. You see, I was pumping gas when I looked up at the roof in front of me, when I wasn’t watching my back. I saw the black tar that repaired a once leaky roof. When I owned my house at 1018 W. 32nd Place, my roof started leaking. At first, I was in denial because I couldn’t afford to get a new roof. I talked to my brother Jerry the fireman because it is a well-known fact that all firemen have a side job because of their work schedule that gives them forty-eight hours off after working twenty-four. In fact, my brother is also painter on the side who will paint apartments, houses, and just about anything else on his days off. In college, he majored in art. So, he’s overqualified to paint your house just in case you’re interested.

Anyway, I told my brother about my leaky roof. Yes, it continued leaking despite my denial. Jerry recommended Bob Bloom Roofing, a fireman who worked with him. Off-duty firemen seem to gravitate toward jobs that involve ladders. Jerry gave me his phone number and Jerry promised to talk to him before I called him. This is how Chicagoans take care of each other. They recommend a contractor who is trustworthy and then they’ll call him up and tell him to take care of his brother, or whomever.

I never actually met Bob Bloom Roofing until years later. To this day, I still think of him as Bob Bloom Roofing because whenever we spoke on the phone, he always, but I mean always, called himself Bob Bloom Roofing. He was always advertising his company. And that’s why I still remember him, I mean his business, all these years later. Anyway, I called him up and explained my roof leak to him. We couldn’t find a mutually convenient time to meet in person at my house because I was busy every day and evening for the next two weeks, but I really needed the leak fixed. Bob Bloom Roofing suggested that he could go check out my roof on the way home from the firehouse. He left me a message saying that it would be an easy repair and he would only charge me about $150. I agreed and within three days my roof was repaired. I mailed the check to Bob Bloom Roofing’s home, and we were both happy with our business transaction.

A couple of years later, another section of my roof leaked, and we went through the same process to repair my roof. I never actually met Bob Bloom Roofing until one day my brother had a party at his house and he invited a lot of his firemen friends. As I wandered through the party, I would introduce myself to the firemen, who are not exactly known for being polite guests. Eventually, I introduced myself to one fireman who responded, “Hi, Bob Bloom Roofing!”

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