“Back then there was a traffic law, you didn’t need a driver’s license if you were 14 years old and the bike was under 5 hp. Well, it was just a decal that gave the officer the hp. My bike was the exact same bike Marlon Brando rode in the movie The Wild One.”
Today I’m sharing some photographs from the 2005 Deborah Boys Club reunion, but first let me tell you a bit about Jim Cash, who sent in these photographs. His story will bring back some 1960s-era Albany Park memories.
Marcia Zuckerman contributed this blogpost about the history of Deborah Boys Club. When she was employed at JCYS (Jewish Council for Youth Services), Marcia was part of a research team that uncovered many wonderful aspects of early Jewish immigrant life, especially the Deborah Boys Club.
On Friday nights we went to the Terminal theater. It seemed like 5,000 teenagers were there. After the movie, we’d go to Purity deli for kishkes and cherry Cokes.
If you only know from what Lincoln Village Shopping Center looks like today, then E. G. Shinner’s 1950 vision of a pleasant shopping environment makes no sense at all.
In a previous post I recalled Chicago Daily News (and Sun-Times) columnist Sydney J. Harris and my fondness his weekly columns titled “Things I Learned While Looking Up Other Things.” I’d like to close out 2011 with a post in a similar vein, without elaborating on the fact that now we all learn things “While […]
For more than 40 years I’ve been passing this building. How did I not see, not admire, those sharp, clean lines and angles jutting outwards from the corner of Kimball and Ainslie?
Guest blogger Charlene (Powitz) Gelber recalls Central Park Avenue in Hollywood Park. It was really like the country, because we had the TB sanitarium on one side and the Boys Parental School across the street. There were no houses across from us and it was beautiful.
If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you know milestones of this magnitude are few and far between in the history of Hollywood Park.
It’s not New York, it’s not a diner, it’s not an image of urban loneliness, but Allan Zirlin’s photograph of Segal’s Shoes at the corner Lawrence and Sawyer reminds me of Edward Hopper’s painting, Nighthawks. Zirlin shot this photograph out a car window sometime in the 1950s.
