My
mother would save up her meat and sugar stamps for several weeks, and then
splurge on a special Sunday dinner with roast beef and cherry pie. I grew up
on Campbell soups and American cheese.
In the 1940’s my mother and I were the only gentiles living in "The Luella", an apartment-hotel located on the west side of Humboldt Boulevard between Bloomingdale and Cortland. My mother was the manager of this elevator building which provided pre-war maid service, and offered me a diversity of tradition and culture not available to most of my Irish-Catholic peers. What I remember most about those early days, both before and during World War II, was the camaraderie of the Luella occupants. Every summer night several couples would convene on the grassy parkway across from the building and converse, argue and laugh until midnight. This was a way to avoid the heat of the non-air conditioned apartments. As a child I would sit by the window overlooking the park and listen in to the adult conversations.
In those days hardly anyone drove cars; transportation to the Loop, where most of Luella residents worked, was convenient. A streetcar picked up passengers at Armitage and Humboldt and brought them directly downtown to Washington and State Street. There was also an elevated train to the Loop which could be boarded on Humboldt near North Avenue. Because cars were not a necessity, gasoline rationing during war time did not affect The Luella residents to a great extent. Meat and sugar rationing did have an impact on all of us.
My
mother would save up her meat and sugar stamps for several weeks, and then
splurge on a special Sunday dinner with roast beef and cherry pie. I grew up
on Campbell soups and American cheese.
On the northwest corner of Humboldt and Cortland was a large, unattractive looking Baptist Church whose parishioners seemed to be non-existent. I never saw anyone entering or leaving the church. Next door was the Humboldt Park Temple which had a very active congregation. My friends Gloria and Phyllis attended daily Hebrew School at Temple. I was always puzzled and fascinated with the Hebrew newspaper, "The Jewish Daily Forward". How could anyone read those strange letters, and backwards too? Gloria and Phyllis never enlightened me.
I attended St. Sylvester School which was located behind the church on the east end of Palmer Square. The school was a four story firetrap. After attending 8:00 Mass each morning, we marched into school to a Sousa march played on the piano with drum accompaniment. Eighth graders entered their fourth floor classroom via the fire escape. Until Sister caught on, the girls entered first and the boys had a great time looking up.
Crossing Armitage on the west side of Humboldt was like entering a different world. Here, instead of large court buildings and two flats, were single family homes which were what was considered at the time upscale. These were all occupied by mostly Irish and Polish Catholic professionals. At the corner of Humboldt and Palmer the Schwinn (bicycle) mansion, with turrets and wrap-around porch, occupied a whole city block going west along Palmer. Every morning old man Schwinn would sit on his front porch and whistle at the Sylvester girls as we passed by on our way to Mass. Elementary students were allowed to play tennis on the Schwinn courts. Much later the Schwinn family donated all their land and property to the church for a new school.
Along Armitage Avenue going west was the center of our neighborhood shopping and entertainment. Teenagers spent after school hours in the corner drug store sipping 15 cent ice cream sodas. Next door was the local delicatessen with all the delicious fare of a N.Y deli. Lox and bagels were a big favorite in those days. Traveling west was the Kosher butcher shop with live chickens in the window. All Jewish families ate boiled chicken on Fridays. My friend Gloria was responsible for the Friday chicken, which she badly burned along with the pot one time; her father was furious. I was always envious at Friday night dinner, because my friends got to drink Pepsi with their chicken meal, while I had to drink milk with my fish.
Walking west on Armitage was an A&P, a butcher and Boelke's Bakery which catered to the gentile clientele. Across the street was the Bell Theater, where we could see the last run movies which we may have missed at the Congress or Harding. The price of admission for all before 6:00 p.m. was 15 cents. Next to the Bell was a Chinese laundry which was definitely not a popular place for me.
Seldom did we go beyond Kedzie Avenue.
Children on Humboldt Boulevard had a lot of fun back then; there was no television, so we had to make do with roly poly, hide and seek, skipping rope, roller skating or just bouncing a ball. We would sit for hours on the bottom step of the next door two flat. The owner, an old lady, would throw water on us, which we thought was funny until our parents straightened us out. Child molesters were unheard of, so we were always outside until dark. Evenings were spent listening to the radio; "Inner Sanctom", "The Shadow", "One Man's Family" and "The Lone Ranger" were favorites.
Growing up on Humboldt Boulevard in the forties was a privilege, providing an enriching experience for me. Very early on I learned tolerance for other traditions, and developed a deep and lasting curiosity for people of other cultures and ethnicity.