As the lunchtime crowd hurried through the east lobby of the Daley Center on Thursday, about 200 people sat in rows of folding chairs, waiting.
Women made up and dressed in flamboyant party dresses were alongside people in business suits munching apples and turkey sandwiches.
All eyes were glued to a makeshift dance floor.
Then the band started up. Eyes darted around the lobby to see who would make the first move. Jacques Zemo, perched in a front-row seat, finally jumped up, grabbed his partner’s hand, led her to the floor and started dancing.
“I’m always the first one to start and the last one to leave,” he said, laughing. “I just love to dance.”
The would-be Fred Astaire was at the center’s Dancing Under the Picasso series, where Chicagoans of all ages, professions and ethnic groups got together for live big-band music and ballroom dancing.
The sounds of “Yellow Bird,” “In the Mood” and “Song of India” were to echo in the lobby until Friday, when the program ends.
Zemo, a retired owner of a heating and air-conditioning company, said he’s been coming regularly since the program started in the early ’80s.
“Where else can you listen to these songs, hold a lady in your arms and move on the floor like we do?” he said. “The pizazz of the whole concept makes me young again.
“Some of the professionals, like attorneys, doctors and office people, see us and become very curious about what’s going on,” he said. “I’ve heard people say this so many times: `That’s beautiful, I’d love to do that. I’m going to join some classes now.’ “
Rose Farina, manager of the city’s Department of Cultural Affairs, which sponsored the program, said these are the results she had hoped for when she started it.
“I’m old enough to have lived in a period in our country where everything, all the social life, centered around dancing,” she said. “It was such a happy scene and it was good, clean entertainment. I remember how terrific it was and I knew a lot of people who would enjoy it, so I’ve done my darndest to bring it back.”
Linda Hissman, a photographer, said she has met many people through the dances.
“You get to dance with good dancers, and when it’s all over, you have a cup of coffee with them and you get to know another person,” said Hissman, 42, dressed in a spaghetti-strapped black party dress and white dancing shoes.
Rosemary Sickles, 66, of Hammond, in a bright blue lacey party dress, silver dancing shoes and thick silver jewelry, said she got up at 5 a.m. to get ready for the noon dance. She took a 45-minute train ride to Chicago with her husband, Clarence.
“It’s worth it,” she said. “Oh, when I’m dancing, it’s like I’m in heaven.”
For Mark Delafield, 42, a legal executive secretary, heaven comes in the form of relaxation through dancing.
“When you’re dancing, your mind goes blank, your body just moves to the music and you just let everything go,” he said.
Lorraine Engebretson, who was Delafield’s partner for a few dances, said she mixes work with dancing. Engebretson, a certified audiologist who runs a hearing-aid store, said she gains customers at the dances.
“I mix it all up,” said Engebretson, 75. “I don’t let anything get away.”
Even people who didn’t dance said they got something out of it. Swaying to the music while watching the crowd, Charles Evans, a retired doctor, said the dances made him feel young again.
“The dances are good for the elderly, both physically and psychologically,” he said. “They give me a way to reminisce about my younger days of dancing and romancing.”
After the hour and a half of fox trots, cha-chas and tangos, the band finally played “Goodnight, Sweetheart,” the song that traditionally closes ballroom dances. Drenched with perspiration, but smiling, the dancers took to the floor one last time.
As Delafield turned to leave, he grimaced.
“It’s like, I’d rather stay here and dance,” he said. “But I’ve got to keep my job.”
