If Your Mother Says She Loves You, Check It Out

By Edward M. Bury, APR (aka The PRDude)

For those wondering about the title of this post, I’ll get to that shortly. But the crowd of current and former news men and women who gathered last night at a quirky downtown Chicago restaurant certainly know what the phrase embodies.

Long-time city editor Paul Zimbrakos (left) was still engaging, still in control, still a dominant presence as he was in the CNB news room.

The event was a reunion of reporters and editors who worked at the legendary City News Bureau of Chicago.  The adjective “legendary” gets tossed around a lot, but in this case it’s appropriate.

We gathered to help preserve the impact this now-gone local news wire service had on Chicago and the lives of those — like me — who had the opportunity to learn the hard news business in an environment that was always fascinating and hardly ever forgiving.

There were stories and memories recounted: The years worked at City News, surviving the midnight shift, how experience there led to the next job in the news business, and that seminal or most compelling story covered. The atmosphere was loud and embracing, with strangers becoming friends over a drink and conversation about the impact City News had on their lives.

A high-point came when Paul Zimbrakos, the long-time (and I mean decades-long)

The reunion at its zenith. The conversation flowed, the memories recalled.

city editor arrived. I waited my turn to greet Paul, who at first didn’t recognize me. After I gave my name, he noted without hesitation that I once called in sick due to a bee sting.  How did he remember that instance, which took place 40 years ago!  (For the record, I was stung in the neck by a wasp and swelled up like a side-show attraction.)

In conversations, I met people who moved on from City News to work in broadcast journalism and public affairs, or like me, leave the news business for public relations or another communications discipline.

I conversed over the din with one outstanding reporter who worked during my era — 1977 to 1979 — and we shared thoughts on our biggest, most memorable stories: His was going door-to-door in Bridgeport to get perspectives on the death in December of 1976 of Chicago Mayor Richard J. Daley, mine was covering the exhuming of bodies from the home of convicted mass murder John Wayne Gacy in December of 1978.

As I rode the Blue Line home later that night, I felt proud and honored to have been a small cog in the news organization that nurtured true journalism.  I look forward to the next reunion and the stories and memories they will bring.

Now, to the title. The message behind this phrase is simple and direct: Investigate, seek confirmation, gathering what’s believed to be the truth. If you don’t believe me, check it out.

 

 

 

Bravco Conjures Memories of the Old Rush Street

By Edward M. Bury, APR (aka The PRDude)

Cities evolve and grow or fade into obscurity. But oftentimes, little parts of the urban fabric refuse to change, clinging to what made them special or memorable in the first place.

The Rush Street district on the Near North Side of Chicago has evolved and grown dramatically since I first was exposed to the area as a high school kid in the early 1970s.

The name, the two aisles, the fireplace, the ambiance, the permanence. Much the same as when I first arrived at Bravo as a high school stock boy in 1971.

The once bohemian quarter ran roughly from Chicago Avenue on the south to Division Street on the north and was home to cabarets and night clubs in the 1940s through the 1970s — legendary places like Mr. Kelly’s, Faces and Rush Up. In the decade or so that followed, Rush Street evolved to become Chicago’s disco scene — mirrored balls and lots of polyester included.

But there was more of a neighborhood back then. Along with the nightlife and denizens of party goers, Rush Street also housed small shops and restaurants, most decidedly Chicago in nature, and even modest apartments above the retailers.

Today, it’s a much different scene; the narrow streets are lined with soaring modern high-rise apartments and internationally-known designer stores, with just a few longstanding clubs and bars still in business.

And then, there’s the Bravco Beauty Centre at 43 E. Oak St.

The sweetest pension one could imagine.

I first walked into the unassuming two-aisle store one day in 1971, joining my neighborhood buddy, Steve, as a stock boy. It was my first real job, one I held after school and during the summer months for two years. Back then, the store was run by an engaging retailer named Milton Brav and his partner Jack Finley.

Working at Bravco put money in my pocket, and I got to experience the waning years of a now-gone pocket of Chicago history and culture.

Last week, while attending an awards reception at the Drake Hotel, another iconic presence on the North Side, I strolled into Bravco and met current owner Howard Gordon, who purchased the shop in 1980. Outwardly, not much has changed in the two-aisle store, shelves full of health and beauty aids.

“I used to work here!” I told Mr. Gordon, who commanded the cash register. “But that was in the early 1970s, when Mr. Brav owned the store.”

We engaged in a spirited conversation, waxing nostalgically about long-gone establishments like BurgerVille, the Acorn on Oak and even the scary-from-the-outside strip clubs on State Street; and I noted how I would try to flirt (mostly unsuccessfully) with the often stunning women customers seeking exotic hair and beauty products.

“I need to buy something,” I told Mr. Gordon, placing a package of Juicy Fruit gum on the counter. “This is on the house,” Mr. Gordon said. “Think of this as your pension.”

Now, one might wonder: How does this tiny specialty establishment remain in business in an upscale location during this era of online retail options and dominant national chains?

Through a quick Google search, I found a Crain’s Chicago Business article on Bravco from 2000 and learned the store’s continued success is the result of Mr. Gordon’s business savvy and selection of desirable beauty products. And, I’d like to think, Mr. Gordon’s personality and character. Why else would customers still patronize Bravco?

As I left the shop that Friday evening, I was proceeded by an elderly couple, both toting shopping bags branded by Treasure Island. I trust they had lived in the neighborhood for decades and been around when Rush Street was a thriving urban strip, less sanitized, more truly Chicago.

Like Bravco, the man and woman are still grasping to the remnants of what once was a truly singular part of the city.  I made my way east on Oak Street, quite happy at what I had discovered.

 

 

 

See You on the 606, Chicago’s Way Cool Linear Guideway

By Edward M. Bury, APR (aka The PRDude)

A view of the 606 trail from the inbound CTA Blue Line.

A view of the 606 trail from the inbound CTA Blue Line.

For decades, I traveled on the Chicago Transit Authority Blue Line elevated train between home in various neighborhoods on the North Side to and from downtown. On every trip, I passed over a long-abandoned railroad spur known to most as the Bloomingdale Line. It was aptly named because much of the line ran parallel to Bloomingdale Avenue.

But during all those years, I never ventured onto the Bloomingdale, even though many types of people used the line, reportedly for both pleasure (jogging) and surreptitious activities (gang initiations).

Following years of work from dedicated people and sparked by a $95 million makeover, the Bloomingdale was re-christened June 6 as the The 606, Chicago’s newest linear park/trail.  The 606, which goes from Ashland Avenue on the east to Ridgeway Avenue on the west, spans 2.7 miles of a reclaimed Chicago transportation route.

Taking a rest break at Damen Avenue.

Taking a rest break at Damen Avenue.

So I had to visit.

On a bright and glorious Sunday afternoon, Susan and I rode our bikes from home in Avondale a few miles south to the entrance at Humboldt Drive. The 606 was crowded that day, but not in an uncomfortable way. We had to veer around pedestrians on occasion, and only a few times did we encounter a fellow cyclist who simply had to pass fellow trail users in a sprint.

Already, there are concerns over gentrification and concerns over crime on Chicago’s popular new route to get from here to there and not encounter a motorized vehicle. But that’s expected with a resource that’s new, cool and popular.  On my morning and evening Blue Line commute, I always observe people using the 606.

As a “transit guy” of sorts these days, I noticed many modes (that’s transit talk, you know) of transportation on this guideway (yes, this is a real word, but only used by transit people) during our visit:

  • Cycling
  • Pedestrian
  • Scooter (non-motorized)
  • Skateboard
  • Baby Carriage (three and four-wheel types)
  • Walker
The western end of the 606 trail provides a view of what's left of Chicago's industrial might.

The western end of the 606 trail provides a view of what’s left of Chicago’s industrial might.

Once the Bloomingdale Line  functioned partly as a freight spur that brought raw materials to the many small manufacturing industries that lined both sides of this unique urban trail. Most businesses, if not all, are gone, replaced in some areas by townhomes.

But I hope that funds are raised soon to erect historical signs that chronicle the industrial history of the surrounding streets before the foundries, warehouses and assembly plants shut down in the 1970s and 1980s.  A lot of effort and money went into giving this urban guideway a new purpose; but we shouldn’t forget what this uniquely Chicago transportation resource was originally designed to do.