“I must confess a shameful secret: I love Chicago best in the cold.” Erik Larson, The Devil in the White City.
I’m only a few chapters into Larson’s book, but far enough in that I was looking forward to our visit with Danelle and Drew in Chicago with a slightly more interesting, more dark perspective into the city’s past.
Enjoying a short break in Evanston, while walking along the lakeshore.Saturday morning, we walked along the shores of Lake Michigan, in Evanston. This is a view looking at Chicago, tiny in the background, where we would spend Saturday night.Walking downtown Chicago, I was the true country boy in the city, always looking up.
Only days after the election, I had to marvel that this building is small compared to the towering con job that convinced so many average Americans that the entitled billionaire named on the tower had anything in common with them, let alone giving a shit about them. There’s roadblocks and hundreds of armored police officers for blocks around the building, or to comment on it using a Trump tweet, “Sad.”
Danelle & Drew took us to Cindy’s, a rooftop bar/restaurant in the Chicago Athletic Association Hotel, where we enjoyed drinks, a fire, some fantastic views and more good conversation.
View from Cindy’s
View from Cindy’s as evening wore on.View of Adler Planetarium from Cindy’s.Along our walk to dinner…a long walk to the bellyQ.So I wouldn’t necessary say, “I love Chicago best in the cold,” but I love Chicago and I love our reason for making the trip …
Last Saturday we spent some time at the newly reopened National War Memorial.
Maybe we all have extra cause for reflection this year as Remembrance Day approaches, given the disturbing rise of the alt-right in the US and Europe, the horrors in Syria, the provocations of Russia…not to mention threats from North Korea or Iran or who knows where else. But from my small vantage point, I am feeling much more grateful than ever for all those who have sacrificed to make our world better.
Over my 24 years of living in Ottawa, the image of Remembrance Day for me is the National War Memorial, with the ancient vets waiting in wheelchairs and with walkers, resolute against the cold of November, as the bugle sounds the Last Post, below drab skies and falling rain, sometimes snow.
The Memorial has been hidden for the last seven months as part of a major restoration project. Most mornings I ride my bike past the site on my way to work. I have missed it. Before the restoration, I enjoyed seeing the visitors who always seemed to be there no matter what time of day, taking photos or perhaps reflecting on the statues or on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The site is clearly important to people and, for me, made even more important, more solemn, more immediate, by the killing of Corporal Nathan Cirillo in October 2014.
When we read last Saturday that the Memorial had reopened Friday, we decided we should go there right away, like visiting an old friend who has been away too long.
On the way to the Memorial, we paused to view a couple walking under the trees along the Rideau Canal (view from the pedestrian bridge). In my 24 years of living in Ottawa, I can’t remember when the leaves were still on trees as Remembrance Day approaches.The Peace Tower – a symbolic link between the National War Memorial and War Museum. Viewed from the bridge over the Canal by the Chateau Laurier,.Over 24 years, I have visited the Memorial many times and pass by it most mornings on my way to work. After the restoration, it was good to take a new, fresh look at it.The larger than life figures, their elevated position, create a sense of movement…emotion..Though I will be out of town this Friday, I will still think of this symbol of Remembrance, as I have extra cause to reflect and be thankful this year on the eleventh hour…
