My heart skipped a beat when I saw the outstanding depiction of the Tribune Tower in Sunday’s paper announcing the 160th anniversary of the world’s greatest newspaper. It brought back such fond memories for me when I was a child and my dear father told me all about the Tribune Tower, how he was in the building trades and helped to lay the forms for the cement before the top of the structure was poured. That had to have been about 1927 or 1928.
My mother was expecting her first baby and while Dad was working atop the Tribune Tower, he was injured, not seriously, but enough that he thought he’d better change trades because it was too dangerous now that he would have a family to support.
Actually Mom presented him with twin baby girls shortly after he began his new job.
Dad was brought up on a farm in Iowa, one of nine children.
He made his way to Chicago when he was 19, hopping a freight train with only $5 in his pocket. He was ambitious and hardworking and passed the Civil Service Exam to become a stationary fireman for the Board of Education, working for the schools for 45 years.
But he was proudest of his accomplishment working on the Tribune Tower.
Every summer we had guests from Iowa, Dad’s brother and sisters and their families, and Dad made sure he showed each and every one of them the Tribune Tower, telling them about his small contribution to that amazing building.
The Tribune has been a mainstay in our home ever since I can remember. I always say it’s one of the chief delights in life — reading the morning paper with a cup of coffee and then looking forward to working the crossword puzzle later in the day.
Never thought I’d reach an age at which the first page I’d turn to in the Trib would be the Editorial page, but that’s how it goes.
Through all the years, the paper has managed to educate, inform and entertain me, for which I’m grateful. I can’t imagine life without my daily Trib.
Thanks to your editors and the journalists who make the paper so exceptional.
My fondest wish for your continued success.
