Date Night at the Get Me High (Courtesy of Butchie Dakuras.)
The Get Me High Lounge was completely down to earth.
The tiny storefront jazz club was nestled at 1758 N. Honore near some train tracks in Chicago’s Wicker Park. The Get Me High flourished in the mid-1980s when gob-smacked noir nightlife was all over Wicker Park like a street hustler.
Neighborhood folks could check out the original Artful Dodger punk club on North Milwaukee Avenue and the Double Door when it was a workingman’s bar lined with commemorative Elvis decanters and Webb Pierce on the jukebox. I lived in a graffiti-laden Wicker [...]
The Historic Red Rooster as the Hillsboro Hotel in the early 1900s.
We are privileged to have our “Beacons in the Darkness: Hope and Transformation Among America’s Community Newspapers” book party become the first public event at the Historic Red Rooster Inn in Hillsboro, Il. The town of Hillsboro (pop. 6,100) is a town of wonder and it is about an hour’s drive south of Springfield, Il.
The Red Rooster building turns 120 years old on Nov. 21. It opened as the Hillsboro Hotel and the initials were carved into the anchor post of the lobby staircase. They can still be seen today. The free event begins at 7 p.m. on Nov. [...]
Mary Frances and Bill Veeck in March 1959 when Bill purchased 54 % of the White Sox for $2.7 million. (Photo courtesy of the Veeck family.)
There were clouds, but Mary Frances Veeck never paid much attention to them.
After I heard of the Sept. 10 passing of Mrs. Veeck I began to realize that almost every time I saw her we were sitting outside. The first time was opening day April 1976 in the Comiskey Park bleachers after her husband Bill bought the White Sox. Mr. and Mrs. Veeck looked me in the eye as we spoke. I was just a kid among 40,300 happy fans.
In July 1991 I drove to Cooperstown, N.Y. to [...]
A Tesuque Pueblo player during a pickup game on July 4, 2021 at the Pueblo in Santa Fe, NM. The Tesuques play in the All Indian League, an adult baseball league that includes pueblos across New Mexico. (Courtesy of Jean Fruth)
Grassroots baseball players have always been highway gypsies.
They travel from diamond to diamond with jewels of their trade: bats that are needles of a mystic compass, gloves that try to catch all that goes by, and cleats that are as down and dirty as road tires. And when the journey is realized, the gypsy is safe at home.
The new Jean Fruth book “Grassroots Baseball: Route [...]
