The Name of the Day...

...belongs to Wilder Penfield, a Canadian neurosurgeon. The only name better than that is his full name, Wilder Graves Penfield.

Last night the same thermometer...

...that showed 18 degrees last Wednesday was a full ten degrees warmer, at 28 -- over 50 percent higher! -- when the Brown Line train we were on crossed the Chicago River at a little after five o'clock. We were embarking on the third leg of our Hike of the Chicago Marathon course and our first stop would be at Sedgwick.

We ducked into a Subway restaurant just steps from the station on North Avenue, and after a sumptuous dinner we turned left (north) on LaSalle Drive toward Lincoln Park. (By the way, when does LaSalle Street become LaSalle Drive?)*

The first landmark we encountered was the Moody Church, completed in 1925.

The historic evangelical Christian church, which melds features of both Romanesque and Byzantine architecture, was intended to bridge the gap between the traditional Roman Catholic cathedral and the typical Protestant church buildings of the late 19th century and early 20th century.

The structure seats over 3,700 people and features 36 large stained glass windows, no two of which are alike, around the perimeter of the building.

One interesting tidbit about the church is that when it was originally built, summer cooling was provided by means of a large pit in an alley in back of the building, where large loads of ice would be dumped. Air was then blown over the ice and out of mushroom-shaped vents under the auditorium seats. The system could recirculate the church’s air in six minutes.

Next we saw the Robert Cavelier de La Salle Monument, at the corner of Clark and the La Salle Drive extension.

De La Salle (1643–1687), as every student of Chicago history knows, explored the Great Lakes area, Mississippi River, and Gulf of Mexico in the 17th Century. He is best known for claiming the Mississippi Valley for France, and naming it "Louisiana" for King Louis XIV. La Salle died during an expedition to Canada in 1687, when his crew mutinied and killed him. (I didn't know that!)

Our hearty band of Hikers then turned left (north) onto Stockton Drive into Lincoln Park and almost immediately heard the howls of a pair of coyotes (coyotes!?!) off in the distance near South Pond (is there a North Pond?). We could actually see the critters but I don't think I could have captured them on my iPhone.

According to a segment from Chicago Tonight, there are more than 4,000 coyotes roaming Cook County and they do surprisingly well within the city itself. (I saw one across the street from my building just a week or so ago. Yikes!) From the show:

“The abundance of food is quite high in Chicago and it’s not just human food or garbage, but there’s a lot of natural food available for these animals in many parts of Chicago that you wouldn’t realize,” said Stanley Gehrt, a professor of wildlife ecology at Ohio State University.

Coyotes are both predators and scavengers, eating small rodents, Canadian geese, rabbits, deer, fruits and more.

“Most people think it’s the opposite, but once they learn how to cross roads and avoid cars – the only real threat to them – they do extremely well in the city, much better than out in the country.”

Walking past Lincoln Park Zoo, founded in 1868 and one of the oldest in North America (and one of only a few free admission zoos in the United States), we passed Cafe Brauer, above. Completed in 1908, it has been called "an outstanding example of the Prairie School of architecture."

While the original restaurant closed in the 1940s, the Lincoln Park Zoo Society began a $4.2 million restoration project in 1987. The second floor ballroom was renovated so that it could be used for private events, and the first floor was remodeled as a small family restaurant and ice cream parlor.

Listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1986, Cafe Brauer received Chicago Landmark status in 2003.

At Webster (about the five and a half-mile mark of the Marathon course), four of our group peeled off to catch the bus at Halsted for home. The remaining five of us continued on north, past the Lincoln Park Conservatory, completed in 1895. We turned right (east) on Fullerton, left (north) on Cannon, past the Peggy Notebaert Nature Museum, which opened in 1999. (In case you were wondering, the North Pond is just behind the museum.)

At Diversey, the course turns right-ish onto Sheridan Road, but that was enough for our intrepid Hikers and we turned left (west) toward Halsted.

At the northernmost tip of the park are two more landmarks worth noting: the Goethe statue and the Elks Memorial. (I had planned on taking a spectacular photo of the Memorial but it wasn't all lit up as I had expected. Instead, I got a couple of good shots of the Goethe statue.)

The Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Monument pays homage to the famous German writer and philosopher who died in 1832. Completed in 1913, the timing of its dedication a year later was anything but fortuitous: a month before the outbreak of World War I, when admiration for Germany and its people went south dramatically.

The Elks Memorial, a Beaux Arts-style domed building at the corner of Lakeview and Diversey, was built to honor members of their order who had served in World War I. The architect had the unlikely name of Egerton Swartwout and it was completed in 1926. (John and I went inside during Open House Chicago.)

When we turned on Diversey, with the Lincoln Park neighborhood to our left (south) and Lakeview to our right (north), I was struck by how much the street had changed since I had last visited. For those of you familiar with the area, the old Market Place grocery store on Hampden has been torn down in favor of two luxury (what else?) condo buildings. The sign said four-bedroom units are expected to fetch as much as $1.7 million. That's a far cry from when I moved to a studio apartment in Lincoln Park in 1982 for a little over $200 a month!

Another new building is underway on the southeast corner of Clark and Diversey, and I tried to explain to the guys that before the busy intersection of Damen, Milwaukee and North in Wicker Park, this was the place to be for young people back in the 1980s and '90s. All they could remark upon was the abundance of women's clothing stores on that stretch of Diversey.

We finally made it to Halsted and caught the Number 8 bus for home. Next week we'll tackle the fourth leg of the Marathon course, from Diversey and Sheridan, up to almost Wrigley Field, and back down Broadway and Clark. That should get us to about Mile Nine, or about a third of the way through.

* Answer: I think when it crosses the Chicago River.

The Name of the Day...

...belongs to John McCain, United States senator from Arizona who recently penned a political science research piece, "Convincing evidence that congressional staff do, in fact, matter."

Whoa, whoa, whoa -- my bad. Turns out the author's name is actually Josh McCrain, a graduate student in the political science PhD program at Emory University. I clicked on that piece thinking it was by John McCain. I don't suppose Mr. McCrain ever runs into that trouble. For that reason, make his the Name of the Day.

"(Sittin’ on) The Dock of the Bay" is...

..."the sixth-most-played composition on American radio and television in the 20th century," according to an article in the Times today. Really? There's more (my emphasis):

It has gone triple platinum and been covered by artists from Cher to Bob Dylan. Rolling Stone named it No. 26 on its 500 Greatest Songs of All Time. To celebrate its endurance across 50 years, the Otis Redding Foundation is organizing a benefit concert on Thursday at the Apollo Theater, hosted by Whoopi Goldberg and featuring a lineup including Warren Haynes, Aloe Blacc and Booker T. Jones. The Dap-Kings and the Preservation Hall Jazz Band will provide the backup.

Again, really? I think "Runnin' Blue," above -- inspired by Redding's hit -- by the Doors is a better song.

Released in 1969 on The Soft Parade -- the Doors' fourth album -- "Runnin' Blue" was written and sung in part by Robby Krieger. The jazz-influenced album was a departure for the band, as it incorporated string and orchestral arrangements for the Los Angeles Philharmonic and local jazz horn players. "Runnin' Blue," in particular, also included a mandolin and fiddle.

It's not my favorite Doors album -- I like the first and last (sixth) better -- but "Runnin' Blue" is probably my favorite song from that release.

P. S.  In early 1967, Redding also wrote "Respect," a song commandeered by Aretha Franklin. I did not know that.

Casimir Pulaski Day...

...isn't until March 5 this year, but the guys and I just couldn't wait that long to honor the Revolutionary War hero and "father of the American cavalry" by dining out on Polish food. Actually, the restaurant -- Pierogi Heaven on Wells -- is just off the Clark/Lake el stop where we left off on our Hike last week.

I had originally planned on tackling the next three miles of the Chicago Marathon course but that would have put us on Cannon Drive smack in the middle of Lincoln Park. We could either cut it short at Fullerton or go a little longer to Diversey but neither seemed appealing on a frigid January night. So we bowed to the weather and walked the less ambitious two miles to the North/Sedgwick Brown Line stop in Old Town.

After dining on Polish sausages and, yes, pierogis of all types, we ventured out into the bitter cold -- 18 degrees! I'm pretty sure it was our coldest Hike yet. In the past I had usually drawn the line in the low twenties or so, but it didn't seem so bad when I was walking my dog, Stewart, yesterday afternoon.

The eight of us set out from the restaurant at about six o'clock and promptly went the wrong direction -- west -- until I course-corrected a couple of blocks later. (I've often told the guys not to get discouraged if they ever get lost; even those of us who pride ourselves on knowing our way around the city frequently get disoriented after dark. What to do? Pause for a moment and get your bearings. Thank God for smart phones!)

So we backtracked a little to LaSalle Street where we turned left (north) for the River North neighborhood. Since it was so cold I had an option in reserve for the less adventurous: you could bail from the group and catch the Brown Line at Chicago. After all, there's no shame in walking a mile in these sub-freezing temperatures!

We crossed the river with its incredible views, past the Merchandise Mart and a number of other personal landmarks from my arrival in the city 37 years ago this month: the Anti-Cruelty Society at Grand, the Ohio House Motel and Rock 'n' Roll McDonald’s (closed for remodeling?) at Ohio, and the LaSalle Flower Shop at Superior. When we reached Chicago Avenue I fully expected everyone from the group to peel off leaving just my son and me for a lonely trek up to North Avenue. To my surprise, however, only two chose to cut the trip short leaving six intrepid souls to continue the journey north. I was impressed!

So on we soldiered, past the Moody Bible Institute and umpteen high rise apartments and condos built in the 1980s to replace all the Single Room Occupancy hotels (what my dad used to call "flophouses") that used to line streets like LaSalle and Clark. (I can imagine how people used to think of the city as "rough" back in the day; now it's full of yuppies.) Across Division Street we encountered Sandburg Village on our right (east), originally an urban renewal project from the 1960s that was intended to buffer the Gold Coast neighborhood from the "encroaching blight from the north and west."

We finally reached North Avenue and turned left (west) through Old Town, passing the Second City on Wells, to the Brown Line Stop at Sedgwick. The el came quickly (Praise the Lord!) and we switched at the Harold Washington Library for the Red and Blue Lines for home.

Next week we'll resume our Hike back at North/Sedgwick and head up through Lincoln Park toward Wrigley Field. That should bring us to about the seven and a half-mile mark and the northernmost tip of the Marathon course. Hope it's warmer!

Edwin Hawkins, who...

...recorded the 1969 hit "Oh Happy Day," died at age 74.

Dolores O’Riordan, 1971-2018.

Someone I know...

...is training for the 2018 Chicago Marathon so I thought it would be fitting to kick off this year's Urban Hike with Mike by walking all 26.2 miles of the course in roughly three-mile segments. That should take us through the first nine weeks of the year.

The course, which winds through 29 of the city's neighborhoods, begins at Monroe and Columbus, right behind the Art Institute.

After fortifying ourselves with hamburgers from Good Stuff Eatery on Wabash, the eight or ten of us (I'm beginning to lose track) set out Wednesday on a wet, but mild, January evening.

Crossing Michigan Avenue, we couldn't help noticing the bright blue monolith at the top of this post, one of two transparent glass brick towers flanking a black granite reflecting pool known as Crown Fountain in Millennium Park. No sooner did I take this picture on my trusty iPhone than it magically changed to reddish-orange. So I snapped another one with that guy's face in the background.

The course took us north on Columbus to Grand Avenue, with Millennium Park to the left and Maggie Daley Park to the right.

We crossed the Chicago River just north of Lower Wacker and were surprised to see so much ice. That's the Wrigley Building, of course, all lit up to the west.

When you reach Grand, which is about 500 north, you turn left (west) and walk under Michigan Avenue toward State Street (that Great Street). Mile One of the course is at about Grand and Rush and a few of the guys peeled off at State and caught the Red Line back for home.

There were now only five of us (the hardiest!) and we turned left (south) on State for Jackson. On our right was Marina City, of which I first took a picture of the east tower and then one of both (I couldn't resist). They just looked so cool with their Christmas lights still up!

The guys have a lot of patience for my tendency to stop and take shots like this, but I know I can't push them forever.

State Street extends from North Avenue at the southern tip of Lincoln Park all the way down (intermittently) to south suburban Crete. Its intersection with Madison (zero north/south and zero east/west) has marked the base point for Chicago's address system since 1909. (I've tried -- in vain -- to teach that to my sons and to the guys on the Hike. Why are so many young people resistant to something that would make their lives easier? Oh, well.)

The street changes a lot along its course, and I pointed out that at one time State Street was the flagship shopping district of the city ("Michigan Avenue before Michigan Avenue"). We walked past Macy's (the old Marshall Field) and Target (the old Carson Pirie Scott), and it was hard to believe that the street was dubbed "the brightest thoroughfare in the world" in 1958 -- the year I was born -- by the Chicago Tribune. (Yes, that means I'll be 60 years old this year. I should run a marathon or something!)

At State and Jackson (Mile Two) we turned right (west) and turned right again (north) on LaSalle Street. I just had to take another picture of one of my favorite structures in town, the Chicago Board of Trade Building at the south end of "Money Canyon."

We continued north, with the Federal Reserve to our left and the historic Rookery Building, City Hall and -- I'm sorry -- the hideous Thompson Center to our right, to the Clark/Lake CTA stop, just shy of Mile Three across the river. After exchanging obligatory fist bumps, one of us boarded the Green Line, one the Red Line at Jackson, and the rest of us the Blue Line for home.

Next week, weather permitting, we'll resume our Hike at Clark/Lake and head north toward Mile Six, which is on Cannon Drive in Lincoln Park between Fullerton and Diversey. Won't you join us?

The Name of the Day...

...belongs to Cy Young, an Olympic javelin thrower who died at age 89. Wait a minute! That's not him -- this is Mr. Young:

Imagine growing up with the name Cy Young.

"Are you a pitcher?"

"No."

"Do you play baseball?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I just don't. Okay?"

And to make matters even worse, his father played minor league baseball. You don't suppose that put any additional pressure on someone with that name, do you?

"Come here, son, I want to teach you how to throw a baseball."

"Ugh."

From his obit in the Times (all emphasis mine):

Cyrus Young Jr. was born in Modesto, about 90 miles east of San Francisco, on July 23, 1928. His father was a farmer who played baseball for the minor-league Modesto Reds, and his mother, the former Thelma Gartin, was a homemaker.

Young Cy wanted to play baseball, but asthma restricted his athletic activities. 

So what did young Mr. Young do?

At Modesto Junior College, however, a coach suggested that he learn how to throw the javelin.

He became the first American man to win a gold medal in javelin, and when he died at 89 at his home in Modesto, Calif., on Dec. 6, he remained the only one.

That was in the 1952 Helsinki Games. Four years later his javelin career was over:

He told The Bee in 1996 that he had made a pile of his shoes, sweatsuits and javelins, poured kerosene over them and set them afire.

Yikes! (Sounds like he had some anger issues.)

“It was time to get on with my life,” he said.

After the Summer Olympics in Melbourne, Young became a full-time farmer and rancher.

Kind of sounds like, "F*** you, everybody! Even if I didn't play baseball I still had a great athletic career. Now leave me the f*** alone!"

But I'll bet every time someone was introduced to him the first thing they said was something like, "Cy Young? Hey, did you play baseball?"

Ray Thomas, a founding member...

...of the Moody Blues who played flute, sang and wrote a number of the band's songs, died at age 76.

From his obit in the New York Times (my emphasis):

In 1967 they released what is considered a progressive rock landmark, the album “Days of Future Passed,” which featured contributions from the London Festival Orchestra. It was one of the earliest albums to embrace the long, interconnected songs and musical experimentation that became key parts of the style in the early 1970s.

Mr. Thomas’s solo on the single “Nights in White Satin,” which became the group’s signature song, was one of the album’s defining moments.

1967? I distinctly remember this song being a hit when I was a freshman in high school.

Mr. Thomas said that when executives at Decca, the band’s label at the time, heard the album “they panicked: ‘Who’s going to buy this? It’s neither one thing or the other: it’s not rock ’n’ roll, and it’s not classical as such.’ ”

The label was right to be wary. “Days of Future Passed” did reasonably well in England but disappeared without a trace in the United States. It found an audience there only belatedly, when it was reissued in 1972 and broke into the Top 10. “Nights in White Satin” reached No. 2 on the Billboard singles chart.

Brendan Byrne, whom I remember...

...as the governor of New Jersey when we lived there in the 1970s, died at age 93.

What I didn't remember was his sense of humor. From his obit in the Times:

"There was a poll that showed 96 percent of the people knew who I was, and 4 percent thought I was doing a good job."

"It is not true that I can only read at a fifth-grade level," he told a group of [local journalists], after being roasted at a press dinner. "I read out-of-state papers, too."

 "I knew I’d get re-elected when people started waving at me using all five fingers."

"Remember that stuff they put in our food during World War II, to prevent us from getting excited about girls?" he said at the dedication of a military monument when he was 84. "It’s beginning to work."

Carmen Cozza, Hall of Fame...

...football coach at Yale for 32 years, died at age 87.

Cozza was famous for coaching Calvin Hill and Brian Dowling in the 1968 29-29 "loss" to Harvard. Hill went on to a distinguished 12-year career in the NFL and Dowling was the inspiration for the Doonesbury character B.D. From Cozza's obit in the Times (my emphasis):

Cozza’s head-coaching debut at the Yale Bowl was inauspicious, however: a loss to Connecticut. Afterward, Charley Loftus, Yale’s sports information director, remarked that Cozza had received a telegram from the alumni association saying: “There’s a train leaving for New York at 4 o’clock. Be under it.”

Rick Hall, "the producer...

...who forged the Southern soul style known as the Muscle Shoals sound," died at age 85.

I had never heard of Mr. Hall, but some of the hits mentioned in his New York Times obit sound like they could make up a (bad) musical backdrop for a movie about my early life: "Patches" by Clarence Carter, "One Bad Apple" by the Osmonds, "Baby, Don’t Get Hooked on Me" by Mac Davis, and "(You’re) Having My Baby" by Paul Anka and Odia Coates.