So, how do you introduce yourself to a metropolis?
I mean, seven summers ago, when I rolled into Ottawa — think Starved Rock State Park, not Mounties — to begin writing for the town’s newspaper, The Daily Times, it was pretty easy to greet the locals.
I just knocked on everyone’s door.
I’m joking, I’m joking ?
Ottawa ? the home of my journalistic roots — isn’t that small. But, hey, with a population just over 18,000, the picturesque seat of La Salle County where the Fox River flows into the Illinois about 80 miles southwest of Chicago, isn’t exactly Gotham. And, my new employer ? The Chicago Tribune ? well, its circulation is just a hair bigger than that of The Daily Times.
Rapunzel’s hair, maybe.
In any case, here I am. A 29-year-old, small-town journalist now living in the big city, writing for the big paper who, at this moment, is trying to answer the big question:
Again, how do you introduce yourself to a metropolis?
I don’t know. I suppose, like Nike, you just do it. So, here goes ?
Hey, Chicago. I’m Dave.
What’s up?
(That wasn’t so hard.)
And, actually, “what’s up” is precisely what I hope you’ll be telling me ? and, in turn, that I’ll be telling you — as we get to know each other in the coming weeks and months through this weblog. Which, by the way, I’d also like to properly introduce you to.
Welcome to the “Wisch List,” the blog about life ? and the people who live it.
(That, of course, means you.)
This blog is actually an online incarnation of the “Wisch List” column that, before joining the Tribune in early July, I spent the past three years writing for The Daily Times. In Ottawa, it was a forum through which I was lucky enough to unearth and tell many great stories about the oh-so-entertaining people of north central Illinois.
So many, in fact, that last November, after just over two years of writing “Wisch List” columns, I was able to turn a collection of them into a book entitled, “Northern IlliNOISE: Tales of a Territory.”
Now, I’m in this territory.
And, I hope, With the number of people living their lives in and around Chicago, I hope to find and tell many of this territory’s tales, as well.
In order to do so, though, I could use your help, your eyes, your ears and your memories.
Know of an interesting person? Tell me. Know of an interesting place or event? Let me know. Know of a quirky Chicago story? Tell me those, too.
As for myself, I’m what you could call an Illinois boy, both by birth ? and choice. I grew up in Bourbonnais (about 55 miles south of Chicago), attended the University of Illinois (Go Illini),
I’ve learned not to carry an open pop can when boarding the “L” (to the people I spilled on last week when the train jumped, um ? sorry.) I’ve learned that one day a month they clean one side of your street ($50 fine), and on entirely different day they clean the other ($50 fine). I’ve learned
July 25, 2005 11:36 AM CDT; Wisch List Part Two
Yeah, there I was, just moments before moving for good from Ottawa to my new apartment in Chicago — and just a dozen hours away from reporting for my first day of work at The Chicago Tribune ? only to discover a nifty fact about my ATM card.
It was AWOL.
Seriously.
I had 11 bucks ($11!) in my wallet. I had no bank account set up in Chicago and no access to my savings in Ottawa. And, as a result, I was starting to ponder the best place in the Loop to panhandle just to buy a weeklong “L” pass to reach work.
As ignominious Windy City debuts go, mine was quickly deteriorating into one rivaling that of former heavyweight boxer James “Quick” Tillis, who after arriving downtown on a bus from his native Tulsa, Okla. in the early 1980s received the rudest of awakenings.
“I put my suitcases down, and I looked up at the (Sears) Tower,” Tillis recalled. “And I said to myself, `I’m going to conquer Chicago.’
“When I looked down, the suitcases were gone.”
Okay, so my arrival wasn’t that bad. And, unlike, Tillis I thankfully didn’t have to call Tulsa in order to contact kin.
Just Schaumburg.
Because my younger brother came through in the clutch, as I was able to drive to his pad and bum $100, promptly turning my Fourth of July into Dependence Day.
A month later, I have a new bank account, a new ATM card and a newfound admiration for >>>>.
However, I still haven’t paid my brother back. (Soon, John. Soon.) Because, while there might not be any tolls on the way from Ottawa to Chicago, that hardly means the move is free.
Not when you had to pay for a security deposit and first month’s rent, as well as buy a City of Chicago sticker, groceries, all before pulling your first paycheck.
Such is life, though, for this small-town-columnist-turned-big-city-reporter.
Which is what this blog is about. My life, the big city ? and you.
In 1986, Tillis became the first man to last 10 rounds with Mike Tyson.
And he didn’t even lose an ear.
Hey, maybe there’s hope for me yet.
