The Babe
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

EPILOGUE

The Babe rode homeward high on the Elevated rails hopeful and minded only of the University, un-noticing the ugly back-sides of the thousand houses fleeting by, while the rest of our cast, we can imagine, would also be doing their thing:

Bro Bus was awake and dressing fastidiously for his night club gig at the keyboard.

Cousin Howie was dutifully scratching out his high school homework before turning on Amos and Andy.

Eddie was playing baseball at the Blaine Schoolyard.

Vic was hanging around the Southport soda fountain nearby, waiting for him.

Uncle Joe was hiring a One-Man Band for his Carnival in Galveston, Texas.

Aaron Zolot was getting ready to go to a Young Communist League meeting.

Uncle Bill was driving his 1935 Buick up Lake Shore Drive preparing to turn left at Addison Street.

The Mom was due home any minute from Wieboldt's Department Store at Lincoln Avenue where she had been shopping with Lorraine.

Tom Marsala was lathering a car salesman and calling to the poker players in the rear, "Was that horse's name Lotus Blossom?"

Joe Kolb was looking in the Daily News want-ads section for a good job.

The Dad had finished conducting the Illinois F.E.P.C. Band rehearsal and was being driven home in Tony's 1931 Pontiac.

Clara Zeutschel, home from work, was cooking a cheese and noodles casserole for her mother and older sister.

Ed Dunton was finding his place in the dignified dining hall of De Pauw College at Greencastle, Indiana.

Uncle Charlie was smoking quietly, regarding the morning ocean from the stern of a freighter bound for Manila.

Bill and George Steinbrecher were arguing amiably at 3716 Lakewood over a radio talk on how long the Depression would last.

Aunt Lillie was concluding a half-hour on the telephone to Laura Peterson with a plan to eat at the Old Heidelberg Restaurant.

Marjorie Goldman was at the University's Cobb Hall Library examining various readings for her upcoming courses.

Joe Farina was arranging a hot date with a sure thing.

Miss Moore, on her way home to Evanston, was comparing this year's scholarship class to last year's.

Soot the dog was reclining behind the couch next to the window listening for familiar footsteps.

Aunt Anna was readying supper for her husband, Charlie Ensign, who would be driving his cab that night, and for Cousin Joe, who was fixing an old typewriter.

Cousin Sam was tending the next bridge East as the Babe's train clanged across the Chicago River.

And, yes, the remaining three million Chicagoans were also enjoying a heap of living at the moment.

1114 car accidents had been reported to occur that day.

The hospitals had many empty beds because people were too poor to get so sick.

Both the Chicago Cubs fans and the Chicago White Sox fans were despondent.

Gross production of Chicagoland hit its ten-year low.

The Kelly-Nash political machine is booming, fueled by the infinite needs and greeds of the day.

The weather was of a dank basement, the sky was darkening, the stench of industry and exhausted gasoline was strong. (The word "smog" was unheard-of.) The Babe edged over to help a guy open a stuck window. Chicagoans were always ready to cooperate. Also he liked to get plenty of fresh air.