Skip to content
Author
PUBLISHED: | UPDATED:
Getting your Trinity Audio player ready...

Carlos Tortolero, Executive Director of the Mexican Fine Arts Center Museum.

My wife, Maria, and I, we’re going to fly down to Puebla, Mexico, and spend a few days very close to the volcano. There are some ruin sites nearby. It’s beautiful.

When I was a little kid in Chicago, I would play baseball from sunrise to sunset. If I was lucky, my grandmother would give me a quarter and I would buy 4 packs of baseball cards and a freezer pop. I was the happiest person in the universe. It was Nirvana on Earth.

Jerold Solovy, chairman, Jenner & Block.

You have to be meshugge (crazy) to leave Chicago in the summer. It’s the nicest time. A nice day is if I run 8 miles, do my work, come home and sit under the sun. What could be nicer? That is the finest and best use of one summer day.

My fantasy is all weekends with sunshine and no rain. I really get offended when it’s sunny Monday through Friday, then Saturday and Sunday it rains all day. I look at heaven and say something’s wrong.

Roland Burris, former attorney general; former candidate for governor; managing partner, Jones, Ware & Grenard.

What am I doing during the summer? Oh, gosh, I don’t know. I had planned to be running for office this summer. My fantasy is to tour the continent of Africa, because of the heritage that’s there.

John Schmidt, former candidate for governor:

Summer’s a pretty happy time. It would be harder to lose an election in November and face the Chicago winter. Summer softens it. I’m going to have time go to a Grant Park concert, to a Cubs game. These are things I wasn’t going to be able to do if I were running for governor.

We had a joke that if I didn’t win the primary for governor, I would go out and learn how to sail with my daughter. I guess it’s not a joke. I’ll take a class in the evenings.

There’s nothing I remember more fondly than my grandmother–once a year–would take me and my brothers to a Cubs game. She always bought grandstand seats and bribed an usher to let us sit in a box. It was part of the drama. We joked that it cost more than if she had just bought a ticket.

Mary Dempsey, commissioner of the Chicago Public Library, and her husband, Philip Corboy, senior partner, Corboy & Demetrio.

We’re touring Ireland, starting in Shannon, touring the west country, then down to the Ring of Kerry, up north to Belfast then to Dublin. We’re dining with Irish senators and judges from the Ireland Supreme Court and the High Court of Ireland. Then we’ll spend a weekend in London. We’re going with Susan and Bob (U.S. Equities) Wislow, Jack Guthman, and Sondra and Sid (A. Epstein & Co.) Epstein.

Langdon Neal, chairman, Chicago Board of Elections; partner, Earl Neal & Associates, LLC.

My fantasy is to not work for two weeks so I could spend time with my kids just doing things around the city. Taking any time off in the summer would be a fantasy. We have to prepare for the election.

Paul Engleman, author of the mystery novels “Left for Dead” and “The Man With My Name” (St. Martin’s Press).

I will send the family away and finish writing my mystery novel–not because the publisher is demanding it of me, but because I’m afraid they will forget about it.

Laurie Metcalf, Steppenwolf Theatre Company member.

I’m doing “Pot Mom,” by Justin Tanner at Steppenwolf Theatre in June and July.

My fantasy is three straight months of barbecues, with the White Sox playing at noon, the Cubs at 4 o’clock and the Bulls at 7:30!

Chris Malecki, rookie Chicago police officer.

I’m going to Poland to see my father and to find a Polish woman to marry.

Mel Ervin, retired from the Chicago Federal Bank.

I’m going to Senegal and on to Gambia. I don’t know where my family is from in Africa, but I like to experience the heritage. This is my fifth trip to Africa since 1990. When I eat chicken, I chew on the bones. I was told that is truly an African tradition. It makes me feel like I am really from Africa.

Ron Vasile, interpretive historian, Canal Corridor Association.

I’m going to visit my new-found sister out in Seattle. My parents gave her up for adoption and then got married and had three more kids. Cassey found us about two years ago. We have a lot of similarities: We’re into museums, anthropology; we’ve read a lot of the same books. She and I have grown very close, though I’ve never been to her house in Seattle.

Francis Cardinal George, Archbishop of Chicago.

I will be with my sister and brother-in-law in a fishing cottage north of Ludington, Michigan. It’s lake fish: walleyes, muskies, croppies, blue gills, rock bass and stuff like that. Vacation means going someplace quiet and having time to read and think and be with my family. I love science fiction and that’s about the only time I have to read it.

My dad loved to take long auto trips. Those were real adventures, out West to the Grand Coulee dam, down into Mexico, we went to the eastern cities. One trip that stays in my memory was around Lake Michigan. I must have been 4 or 5, but we decided to go all around, up the Michigan side and down the Wisconsin Side. I was quite excited by Mackinac Island because there were no cars, only horses.

Someday I would like to take a cruise to follow in the footsteps of St. Paul– to parts of Turkey and Greece, where Paul wrote his letters. I would really look forward to that.

Adam Pincus, sculptor and owner of 3D Politics, a company that produces busts and sculptures of famous and historic figures.

This summer, I’m working on the Civil War. I’ll be making a Gen. Joshua Chamberlain–he’s from the North–and a Gen. Sherman. Those are 8-inches. And I’ll be making some more Nixon full-body sculptures.

Henry S. Bienen, president, Northwestern University.

I get away to Montana for most of July; we rent a large house near Bozeman and our children and grandchildren come out. I like to fish in the Gallatin and Madison Rivers, I hike and horseback ride; it’s always pleasant. The university doesn’t grind to a halt. I do a good bit of work out there, a couple of hours every morning. And late at night, I answer e-mails, talk to my provost and my assistants.

Yolanda Nunez, radiology student, Wright College.

In the middle of June we start packing and we’re leaving Chicago after all my life, 32 years. We’re moving to Toledo, Ohio. I’m sad that I don’t have anyone here anymore.

Danny Valle, hairdresser, Boba Unisex Salon.

I just got a brand new puppy named Joe. I’m hanging with him, taking him to the lake, having a blast.

Robert Grimone, free-lance photographer and model.

This is my first summer in Chicago in 14 years. My wife’s Polish; she has never seen America. We’ll try to do something every week–go to North Carolina, the Grand Canyon, a retreat in California.

Jean Joho, chef and owner of Everest and Brasserie Jo.

Once a year, I have to go back to Alsace, I have to see the vineyards, otherwise I will be homesick. When I don’t, there’s something wrong with my body. Also, I have a 2-year-old daughter who never saw my parents who are still living in Alsace. I’m sure I will go and see my parents over there.

Max Brumbach, chef and owner, The Smoke Daddy Barbecue.

I plan to go to a therapist to help me find my way and I don’t plan on leaving Chicago; there is such a great, hopping music and social scene. I couldn’t think of a better place to be than Chicago from April to October. I’ll listen to blues and jazz at the Smoke Daddy and the great festivals put on by the city.

October Ribble, junior, Moody Bible Institute.

I’m going to the Ivory Coast in West Africa to help a group translating the Bible into tribal languages. They’ve already done the New Testament and I’ll be working on the Old Testament for the Anyi Sanvi people.

Dr. Mae Jemison, former Chicagoan, former NASA astronaut; professor of environmental science at Dartmouth College.

As a little girl, we’d go to the point (at 55th Street and the lakefront). People would gather and play drums and bongos. I remember this song “Grazing in the Grass,” by Hugh Masakela, that marked summer in Chicago for me.

Cindy Novak, media consultant for radio and TV stations.

I’m going to my family cottage in Mio, Mich. The thing we do there is we go somewhere else because Mio doesn’t have anything. We go to Alpena and Presque Island in Lake Huron.

Lisel Mueller, Pulitzer Prize-winning poet and author of “Alive Together: New and Selected Poems, 1996” (Louisiana State University Press)

One summer, my sister and I went to camp on the Baltic Sea. On the beach, there was a big number of raspberry canes–very tall, a big thicket. Not only do I love the taste of red raspberries, but the vines were way over my head and it was like being in an enchanted place, completely surrounded by your own secret garden. This is the experience that the poem “Picking Raspberries” came out of.

Picking Raspberries

Once the thicket opens

and lets you enter

and the first berry dissolves on your tongue,

you will remember nothing

of your old life. You can stay

in that country of sun and silence

as long as you like. To return,

you have only to look at your arms

and discover the long, red marks.

You will have invented pain,

which has no place there.

Tony Judge, radio producer.

My greatest summer was when I was a garbage man on Cape Cod in Wellfleet, Mass., carrying away the trash of America’s cultural and literary elite and some great architects too. I would smell like garbage and talk with Arthur Schlesinger, Eero Saarinen, Edmund Wilson. I lived in Wilson’s guest house.

Jack Guthman, partner, Shefsky & Froelich Ltd.

Last year, we went to Paris for four days and then, with a very compatible group of people, we were on a barge on the Burgundy Canal. You go from Dijon through the Burgundy country for about 45 or 50 miles, biking and walking–meandering through the countryside and eating well. We went with Mary Dempsey and Phil Corboy, Susan and Bob Wislow, and Sondra and Sid Epstein.

Sen. Carol Moseley-Braun.

As a young girl, I used to spend my summers on my grandparents’ farm in Alabama. I can remember feeding the animals and riding the horses and hanging out in the forest, as I used to call it. I used to love that.

Daniel Hodges, 15, student at St. Mary of the Lake; resident of Mercy Home for Boys and Girls.

My favorite summer was last year. The kids from Mercy Home went on a 30-mile hiking and camping trip in Minnesota. The things we were doing, I was never used to, like drinking filtered water, catching fish, seeing how long you could go without showers and a bathroom.

Grace Gilana, homemaker.

As a little girl in Manila, in the Philippines, I would spend the summer in the library browsing the books. In the school year there’s no time to relax and enjoy the books.

John Coleman, heating and air conditioner service technician, Enterprise Heating and Air Conditioning.

When I was 10, we drove all across the country and then took a helicopter over Mt. Rushmore. It was really neat.

Laura Washington, editor and publisher, The Chicago Reporter.

I never leave Chicago. It’s so great to have it be hot that I just bask in it–the hotter the better for me. It’s a great time to get to know the neighborhoods. There’s something about warm weather that makes life more livable. You’re not just walking around with your head down trying to avoid the weather. You can have your head up and be much more communal.

Every weekend there’s a street fair in some neighborhood or other. I hit every fair I can, every neighborhood I can get to. I’ll be spending a lot of time at outdoor cafes in all of those neighborhoods.

I was an avid grasshopper and butterfly catcher when I was a kid. I spent four or five summers seeking weed-infested lots where I could secure my prey. I would be out there for hours collecting every one I could find and putting them in jars. I would very carefully feed and care for them, punching holes in the top of the jars to make sure they had plenty of air. I’d bring them in the house and my mother would always have a fit. Inevitably, two or three days later they’d be dead. I would be so sad, particularly if it was a rare one like a giant grasshopper or a monarch butterfly. But my mother was very happy to see them go.

WISH I WEREN’T HERE: TROUBLES IN PARADISE

Kate Shindle, Miss America.

I’m working constantly this summer, traveling about 20,000 miles a month. We’ll probably hit about 41 or 42 states. We’re supposed to have a day off, but it doesn’t always happen. I speak about HIV prevention to students, AIDS organizations, state legislators.

I’ve had some pretty bad experiences with sunburn and poison ivy. I had to miss two weeks of work for the worst case of poison ivy I’ve ever had. I just started to date this guy and we both got poison ivy at the same time. My family made fun of us.

Marjorie Scott, lead registrar, emergency room at Swedish Covenant Hospital.

The ER is total chaos in the summer: You have all the couch potatoes who think they’re weekend warriors and then there’s your home improvement buffs who think they’re Norm Abrams from “This Old House” but they’re actually Tim Allen from “Home Improvement.”

Where the ER is hectic, at home it’s relaxing, I’m fifth generation in Lake View and I stay here all summer gardening.

Sheila McCoy, owner, Leo’s Lunchroom.

I have a little farm in Michigan and I grow a lot of the produce that we cook here. It’s fresh. I wonder if it’s legal. We grow basil, rosemary, a lot of corn. We had a huge cherry tomato crop last year; that was kind of cool. But the eggplants sucked.

Benjamin Reyes, executive director of the Public Building Commission

This summer, we’re building four new libraries, a new police headquarters, four new police stations and 24 school district campus parks. I’ll spend the summer visiting Chicago neighborhoods. Summer vacation is something I don’t ever take.

Paul Serano, paleontologist, University of Chicago.

I’m spending the summer working on 25 tons of dinosaur bone that we collected in Africa. These dinosaurs evolved on their own as the continent was isolated and these are different from any other dinosaurs that have been discovered.

My favorite summer memory was in Argentina in 1988, on my first expedition, finding the first skull of the earliest dinosaur ever discovered. You’re overcome with emotion.

Paul Vallas, CEO, Chicago Public Schools.

These days, I spend my summers working, unfortunately or fortunately. This year, 175,000 kids will be in summer programs. You can never be fully relaxed in this job except when the schools are not open. I spent a lot of my summers in summer school. If my grades weren’t good enough, my mom made me go to summer school. Let’s just say that her message got across.

When it comes to vacations, I’m totally lacking in imagination. That’s my wife’s job.

Christopher Karney, veteran Chicago police officer.

I drove to California. My car was totaled. I got robbed. And when I tried to go home on the plane, I was bumped from the flight.

Trey Fratt, audio engineer and co-owner, Taotog Recording Studio.

Last year I spent three months in Idaho with a buddy. We’d hike, go camping, be in nature, look at the green hills, lakes and mountains. We took jobs to pay our way. I washed dishes.

Ira Glass, host of “This American Life,” a public radio international show that airs on WBEZ (91.5 FM) at 1 p.m Saturdays and at 5 p.m. Sundays.

My worst summer, I have to say, was 1984, at the height of the Contra War. Having never left the country, me and my girlfriend decided the one place we were most curious about was not Italy, or the beaches of southern France, or the perfect Mediterranean Sea, but rather the lovely beaches and friendly people of war-torn Nicaragua.

It was not the most restful vacation. Forget no air conditioning; we’re talking massive food shortages. It was so stupid.

Eddie Reardon, retired Chicago Fire Department paramedic.

The “Grapes of Wrath” trip: I took my family, including the dog, out to California in a red van,. I traveled the scenic route, not the interstate. It took us about 40 days, we played it by ear. When it rained, we headed south where there was no rain. By the time we finished, we pretty much hated each other. I’m lucky I have the family still together; even the babies wanted to leave.