When I arrived at Illinois, I feared that I would be overwhelmed by the demands and expectations. I'd never worked as hard as I did there.
I had a great time!
Wright Street, Urbana (on the left) and Champaign (on the right), Illinois, June 1983. I took this photo at about the time when I was studying for prelims.
5 comments:
Your photographs, stories and asides are immensely compelling. What a deep humus of preserved memory, perpetuated language and culture. I grew up (wearing the same cat-eyed glasses) in Palatine tract housing, carved from the corn, to parents who lacked that grounding. Two grandparents had been Irish immigrants, and two orphans. Only my maternal grandmother acquired any real education, and she died at 40. A handful of photographs and twice-told tales always struck me as insufficient armor against the plasticine constructs of 1960's suburbia.
We apparently alternated schools (UI 79, and NU Law 82). My freshman roommate, and still dear friend, teaches urban history, and edited the Encyclopedia of Chicago. I know that she will vastly enjoy this blog as well. Thank you for sharing valuable material, and fascinating lives.
Thanks for visiting. I don't get many comments, and I appreciate your observations. I've posted most of the favorite photos on the blog by now, and I occasionally scrounge for newish material. I am committed to continue, however.
How did you find the blog?
My husband (Mr. Irene) is a student of Chicago history and architecture, and I suspect he knows of your freshman roommate. One of the books in the series is on the nightstand. I am a bit jealous that you attended UI as an undergrad. I think I would have been much happier there myself than I was au NU.
I hope you visit here often.
Thanks to Calumet412's rave, I'll be steadily working my way through the trove. Calumet's reposted photograph was Christmas shopping, State Street, 1962. Dressing up to shop: I too miss those days. It was the only counter to intimidation by the clothes, or worse the icy and impeccable saleswomen. During law school, I once wore jeans into Bonwit Teller. My blood has not yet melted.
Due to my non-linear initial approach, I only post-comment learned of your initial impetus for the blog. I won't natter further, Irene, but I must send admiration and soft thoughts.
Ah! I thought it might have been Calumet 412. I stumbled across that post a while back. Here's a story that relates an incident parallel to the one you experienced at Bonwit Teller.
Thanks for the kind words; I am doing okay. I now am in what they call "maintenance chemo," and it is doing the trick.
Post a Comment