The Sandwich Life

Wonky Perspective

Good heavens, I haven't posted much lately (and I can hear my mother's voice as I write 'good heavens,' something I normally never say, but she did). I've had a hard time commandeering the computer...hence my silence.  Owen tends to have it down in the basement so he can record music, so I am making do with a tired old iPad....which can be iffy. I have so many things to tell you...and yet if I don't write them down right away they fly out of my brain. Ernie and I did a little jaunt to the Starved Rock area. We'd had reservations on the Polar vortex day so delay it until last week. The lodge there was, well, absolutely perfect. We sat in the bar for a bit as an icy storm blew in, then took food upstairs and snuggled in. It was lovely even if it was too icy to walk around the next day. We cautiously crept out and continued to wander.

In the tiny town of Toluca, there are TWO Italian restaurants, both started in the 1930's. They are now owned by the same family. One is open Monday and Tuesday, and the weekend, and the other is open Wednesday and Thursday, and the weekend. Brilliant. There was obviously some competition in the 1950's when these signs went up. Personally, I just have to be Team Mona. They are only open for dinner so we weren't able to stop...but another time.

The most completely unexpected building of the trip was this perfectly restored little bank, built by Louis Sullivan protégée Parker Noble Berry, in Manlius, Illinois. I stared at it and thought it looked awfully Sullivan-bank-esque, so I trotted over to the little plaques. As it turns out, Berry was a draftsman for Sullivan, and was born in nearby Princeton. Like Frank Lloyd Wright, and George Elmslie, before him, he left Sullivan and started his own practice (although I believe this was done before that point), and sadly, died of influenza at the age of 30, not long after.

The bank (oh, and click here to see the drawing of it at the Art Institute) is just a delightful little gem. It opened in 1915 but failed during the depression, and was used for storage after that; it was restored in 2012. Oh, and evidently he was very involved in working on Sullivan's banks...which only reinforces my plans to visit all of them. And I must say, I do love those old burglar alarms.

Speaking of architecture, and Princeton, Illinois....does anybody know anything about this building in downtown Princeton?

Side note....sorry for all the wonky perspective. Ha, there's a phrase for you!

 

 

Random Notes from the Sandwich Life

1. Our poor little uninsulated, drafty old house can only do so much in this cold, or I guess I should say our trusty furnace can only do so much in this house. Either way, I am grateful for the heat. It has climbed to 64 today and at least there is hope for more warmth. I have not put my nose outside in some time, although Leo and Ernie did deliver some food to a sick friend of a friend in Rantoul yesterday. They have good hearts.

2. The boys get irritated when I tell them how beautiful they are.

3. I do occasionally still cook things I can't eat. Last night I attempted to make chicken parmigiana for Ernie and Owen. The case of the missing mozzarella that I SWEAR we bought foiled it a bit, oh, and oops, we were out of parmesan, but the guys devoured it and said it was good. I guess it wasn't really cooking as I used frozen spinach ravioli and jarred tomato sauce (Owen is deeply devoted to Paul Newman's) but hell, that's cooking too I guess. I tossed the ravioli with some leftover kale and the tomato sauce. I pounded the gargantuan chicken breasts thin and coated them just with flour and lots of Italian seasoning before browning them. My cooking has been so simple of late that it felt nice to do it. For my dinner I just quickly sauteed some flounder filets in salt, pepper, and avocado oil, and put them over a salad of greens and avocado. It was delightful. I am a total convert to Aldi's frozen fish. I only buy the ones with the MSC (Marine Stewardship Council) certification, but that gives me the option of salmon, tuna, flounder, and scallops, all at a relatively affordable price.

4. I've come a long way on the smoothie train. I only wish this looked as good as it tasted. Frozen organic cherries, organic greens, coconut butter, and a dash of avocado oil, as my avocados were too hard to use. Oh, and that's my messy kitchen counter, just so you know what our life is really like.

5. Cyril wouldn't start in the cold, and Leo's car is in the shop getting repaired (from when he got rear ended), so we are trying to figure out how to do everything with one car. It's surprisingly complicated.

6. Now to balance out things....a bit of bleakness.

 

Glimpses and Hobos and BBQ

We drive around small towns and old roads and we find bits of stories. Sometimes we never know what the story really was. Sometimes we do.

In Old Shawneetown, we found the word 'hotel' in stones, next to the levee. Where was the hotel? What happened to it? What did it look like?

I don't know.

In Shawneetown, which moved from the site of Old Shawneetown after the big flood of 1937, we drove by many closed up buildings. We paused in the rain to take a quick picture of a cafe window that said, "Rudy's Serving you Since '32." Late last night, when I couldn't sleep, I scrolled through my photos, and thought about putting it on my Instagram.

I lazily googled to see if I could get any info, and lo and behold, I found a little bit of the story. 

From the New York Times, in 2004:

Rambling Rudy Phillips, who spent his teenage years hopping freight trains to everywhere and nowhere and lived to become one of America's last and best-known Depression-era hobos, died on Jan. 9 in Harrisburg, Ill.

He was 92 when he caught ''the westbound to heaven,'' in the time-honored hobo saying, his son Rudy said. He lived in a nursing home in Eldorado, Ill.

In 1986, Mr. Phillips was crowned King of the Hobos at the National Hobo Convention in Britt, Iowa, an event that began in 1900 when a group of hobos from Chicago who called themselves Tourists Union No. 63 began convening there.

Since 1933, the Britt Chamber of Commerce has sponsored what became an almost annual event as an allure to tourists. Rambling Rudy, like 44 kings before him and 17 after, was crowned with an empty coffee can.

''It was a great life,'' Mr. Phillips told the crowd in a speech that told of his confinement in 27 jails as he traveled the rails in 48 states for seven years, beginning when he was 14. ''I'd do it all over again.''

And from the Britt, Iowa News-Tribune:

Rambling Ruby Phillips, 92, of Shawneetown, Ill. has passed away.

Rambling Rudy's funeral was at the First Baptized Church in Shawneetown on Jan. 12, 2004.

Rudy is survived by five sons and their families. He is also survived by many hobos and hobos at heart and by his Hobo Queen Minneapolis Jewel.

Rambling Rudy rode the rails during the Great Depression, only to return home and open Rudy's Bar-B-Que. Rudy also opened Rudy's Hobo Museum in Shawneetown. He attended many Hobo Conventions, being elected King of the Hobos in 1986.

Rudy loved Britt, writing many poems and articles about the Hobo Capital of the World. In 1993, Rudy wrote: My hat is off and I salute Britt, for the compassion and love they show us old Hobos, like Jesus Christ said, "When you do it to the least of these, you are doing it for me." That just about says it all for Britt, Iowa.

I never could have imagined this as we drove by in the rain. Rudy's BBQ is now closed. The neon happy pig sign is gone. It makes me wonder how many other stories we drive by without pausing. I feel lucky to get these little glimpses.

I'm afraid his 1970 biography is out of print, although it's still listed on Amazon.

Random Notes from the Sandwich Life

1. I took a good ten years off my life this morning, trying to get tickets for the Mott the Hoople reunion. There has GOT to be a better way! It took forever, but I finally got two tickets for the Chicago Theatre. They're not great seats, but really....it's Mott...what the hell does it matter? I tried to convince myself I couldn't afford to go, but I couldn't resist... It's Ian Hunter, Ariel Bender (Luther Grosvenor) and Morgan Fisher....as well as the amazing Rant Band. We had to do it, so we dusted off a credit card, and I'm tickled that we did.

Side note: How does Ian look SO good at 79 years old?

2. Yesterday, someone contacted me and said that while doing genealogy research they'd come across some letters written by my great uncle in the 1920's. He tracked me down and is sending them to me. How extraordinarily kind. Don't worry family---I will share when I get them!

3. Lunch today: Sweet potato, a spoonful or two of leftover quinoa (we tend to cook a big batch and then have it on hand in the refrigerator), on top of spinach and salad greens, just salt and olive oil on top.

4. It's funny how some buildings just call out to you. We were driving down the street in Evansville, Indiana, and we went by this old fire station. I said, "ohhh, ohhhh, OHHH," so Ernie knew he had to turn around. He pulled into the parking area of the new fire station just across the street and waited for me. I walked around it, taking a few pictures. At one point I stopped, and saw that a van had paused, not wanting to get into my shot. I smiled my thanks, and he leaned out the window, and said, "Your name isn't Sue, is it?" I nodded no, and we both shrugged our shoulders and smiled. Those little interactions can be so nice. Comforting somehow.

I loved this building, with it's little street sign, and horns on the corner still, beautiful cornice, and practically a nest of wires around it.

5. And last, but not least, some nice old curb and steps.

oh, and another side note: if you like things like this, I hope you have stopped to admire the old limestone sidewalk on Market Street downtown. It's in front of two of my favorite buildings in downtown Champaign.

Onward.

Sharp and Clear

I've been quiet of late. I'm in kind of a peaceful place. I mean, I need to find a job, and I should be tense about that, but I feel SO much better, physically and mentally, that there's kind of a cloud of bliss floating around me. I saw my doctor the other day, he and his team seemed really happy with how I am doing. It's kind of mind boggling to me...how DIFFERENT I feel since I started seeing him. My first appointment was in October, and I really started the diet/supplements around the fist of November. I can't begin to tell you the difference between the way I felt then and the way I feel now. My dizziness is 90% gone, my brain fog, all the digestive issues, everything is 90% gone. I lapse back quickly if I cheat, but I haven't cheated much. Eating while traveling is hard....I was craving one of my smoothies by the time we got home yesterday. I've also lost weight, which although it wasn't the primary reason for doing this, has been a great bonus. The biggest difference is really in my brain....the way I feel and think....I've lost the sluggishness and the fog that made it hard to function. I feel sharp and bright and clear again. I feel more like myself than I have in some time.

So I'm floating along in my little bliss. The real world and its worries are there but I feel more able to deal with them.

Last night's last minute dinner. Ernie splurged on a pizza but I quite enjoyed my big bowl of Brussels sprouts, grass fed beef, and pomegranate seeds.

We did some more wandering again over the weekend. The eeriness of Cairo, Illinois has stayed with us. The pouring rain and slightly flooded fields didn't help the miasma of bleakness.

nice ghost sign though, huh?

However, we also found lots of wonderful things, some healthy, some abandoned. As always, I like the abandoned ones better. Is it just that I think they need me?

As always, if you like these pictures, follow me at Instagram. I've been enjoying posting there lately!

 

 

 

An Update and the Tale of Two Windmills

My poor Owen just came home sick from school. Poor sweet pea. Leo, on the other hand, headed off to his first day of the new semester yesterday, and got rear ended. Poor sweet pea. His first entry into the world of insurance companies. He is fine, fortunately.

Ernie and I? We're ok. We get a new water meter from the water company tomorrow....good lord, life can be exciting. But, on Thursday I have a doctor appointment in Bloomington and then we will head off for a wander in honor of the anniversary of the day we met. Man, I wish cameras had been as plentiful back then...or perhaps it's just as well. Although I was damn cute and there is little documentation of it....again, perhaps it's better than having the cold light of reality destroy my fond memories.

A week or so ago, as we wandered the Quad Cities for a bit, we came across this vanquished windmill building. Originally a gas station I would assume. Poor sweet pea.

Later, as we rounded the curve into Industry, Illinois, we spotted another windmill building. 

A tiny bit of research says this used to be the Old Mill Tourist Camp, started in 1927, by Ralph Swearingen. Here's what it used to look like.  A few links below as well.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/27865667@N03/4327585121/

http://www.mcdonoughvoice.com/article/20130607/NEWS/130609574

Onward.

Random Notes from the Sandwich Life

1. I haven't been blogging much, partly because the computer was enlisted for the living room recording studio. Yes. At least on the second day, Rascal stepped in to take charge.

2. On a recent trip I fell in love with this building. It's in Oakland, IL, and when you peer in you can see all the old cases and shelves just waiting for you. Evidently, it was the old drug store. I want it.

3. I love my wandering. I'll have to curb it a bit when I start working again, but for now, as along as we can afford gas, it gives me great joy.

4. I liked this building. And I liked it even more when I pondered it a bit. As you can see it's an Oddfellows building, and it's also the Haskell Memorial. AND, when you look at the cornerstone, you'll see it says, "This Stone Donated by Everett Haskell Welch, Pomona, CAL. Laid By Mrs. Abigail L. Haskell, Lee Center, ILL, April 1913.

Stories.

Sometimes you don't even need to know the story, it's just enough to know they are out there.

5. I've got no words for Dickeyville Grotto. You should go see it. Now I have some of the other Midwestern grottos on my to-do list!

This one was through glass, but it's for my sister Debbie.

6. And in a little town, we drive down the street and there sits the Hurst Hotel. The speakers in the town play oldies even though nobody is on the street. I worry about all these buildings.

Christmas Redux Part One: To Iowa

Ernie and I aren't really ones for big gifts for each other at Christmas. Somehow, we've been together so long and know each other so well, and do things for one another throughout the year, that Christmas presents just aren't a big deal for us. I know some find that odd, but it works for us. We will, however, often do something or get something that we both want. This year we also were trying to be careful with money; but we've both really been itching to get out of town. So when, on Saturday morning I suddenly suggested to go that day, Ernie agreed and we went for it.

We were pretty home bound last year with my health issues, and one of the things we normally love to do is travel to small and mid sized cities throughout the Midwest. Last year we did NONE of that, and we didn't even start up our country drives until late in the year when I was finally feeling better. So we'd already been talking about possible little trips. I decided we should do a tour of all the Louis Sullivan banks we  hadn't seen, then there's always US 40 and the Lincoln Highway; I'd been tossing all of those around in my head. My friend Seth had recently commented on what a great city Dubuque is, and that had been on our list for some time (I find myself quite smitten with Iowa of late), so sometime after my very late breakfast, as I contemplated taking down the Christmas tree, I decided that was it, we HAD to go to Dubuque that day. 

We grabbed a few things, cooked a couple of sweet potatoes to have as emergency meals for me, and off we went. We headed over to Bloomington, then north on 39, until we hit US30, the Lincoln Highway. We took that over to the Mississippi and then headed up to Dubuque. When we got to Dubuque, Ernie looked at me and said, "Happy Christmas."

A few pictures from the trip thus far. 

I love my Oddfellows buildings, and this was a nice one.

No neon left, but a nice sign.

Is this GORGEOUS or what? Incredible little Art Deco gas station. Oh my.

I loved this building in Clinton, IA...couldn't find anything about it online. Take that as a challenge if you will.

The most incredible building we just wandered across, yes, just WANDERED across, coming up next.

Onward.

The Burnham Mansion Breaks My Heart Again

Maybe I was just in a bad mood today, but Seth Fein's comments about the Burnham Mansion in Smile Politely today saddened me greatly. Here are my thoughts.

 

Dear Seth,

I think you know that I love you dearly, and am incredibly supportive, and admiring, of your creative efforts, and your undying love for this town. And you and I have disagreed, with, I believe, respect, about our views on the issue of the Burnham Mansion and the renovation and expansion of Central High School. However, I am deeply saddened and disheartened by your comments about the Burnham Mansion saga, as you called it, in Smile Politely today.

First, I’m not sure why activists was in quotes. Was this to imply that they were not activists, bad activists, fake activists, or just activists you didn’t agree with? I truly do not understand that, but perhaps it is just an editing issue that doesn’t matter. More importantly, I don’t understand the reference to slave quarters. Again, I truly, truly just don’t understand. Can you explain? The Burnham house was built several decades after Emancipation. Is this a reference to servant’s quarters? I can not comprehend somehow equating this house with slavery. If you want to equate every house built in the 19th century with that, well, I got nothing…..as that would perhaps include the house that you are restoring, or so, so many structures throughout this community and this country.

You refer to adults acting as toddlers after it was announced that the house would indeed be destroyed. I agree wholeheartedly. I saw people on BOTH sides saying things that I thought were completely lacking in basic respect and common courtesy---about the issues, and particularly about the people involved. I abhorred some of the comments made about people working incredibly hard (such as Chris Kloeppel and Amy Armstrong….Amy, whom I consider a beloved personal friend), even though I happened to disagree with them. However, I also abhorred some of the equally ignorant and thoughtless comments that I heard over and over and over again about the importance of the Burnham House and those that happened to see its value and importance in this community, and throughout this nation.

Further, to imply that everyone that supported the preservation of the Burnham Mansion did not see the value of an expanded, restored and functional Central High School, is again short sighted and regrettably insulting. I supported the referendum. I saw the need. I have one son that recently graduated, and one son still attending Central. And every day I drive down Church Street to my home and I see the buildings being torn down one by one. And I could sorrowfully accept the destruction of every one of those EXCEPT the Burnham Mansion.

I applaud that you are preserving your house. I am, if not preserving, doing my damndest to sustain, an old house which I love dearly...and I believe the restoration and preservation of vernacular architecture is vital and important, in this community and beyond. However, the Burnham House was not vernacular, it was a highly significant structure, both architecturally and historically. The historic significance was important to this community, but the architectural significance was important to this country. Yes, COUNTRY, not county, not town, not community. However much I will be pleased to see a healthy and functional Central High School, I will always see the destruction of this building as an embarrassment and a disgrace. It did not have to be EITHER the Burnham or the School. As you referenced, creatively, patience, and a sense of the role of the history IN education, could have prevailed. The Burnham Mansion, without question, was built by an internationally important architect, and was one of the few remaining residential buildings by the renowned architect Daniel Burnham, who is most famous for his 1909 Plan of Chicago, for overseeing the design and construction of the 1893 Columbian Exposition, and for buildings throughout Chicago and beyond.

As Burnham once so presciently said,

Make no little plans; they have no magic to stir men's blood and probably themselves will not be realized. Make big plans; aim high in hope and work, remembering that a noble, logical diagram once recorded will never die, but long after we are gone be a living thing, asserting itself with ever-growing insistency. Remember that our sons and our grandsons are going to do things that would stagger us.

Seth, I remain your friend.

Sadly,
Cynthia

Random Pictures from A Saturday Drive

I worry about these tiny little Midwestern towns. What is going to happen to them?