Chicago

At the stroke of 5 am , Homer pulled in to my driveway.  The journey west had officially commenced.  After finding a parking space and making sure it's location could be described to the head homeret, Lil, we were on to the wrong security line at the the Syracuse Hancock International Airport!  What a name for an airport with two terminals. Locating  the correct terminal and  security line, where my bag was searched, to many cords and electronics, I was told, and we were off to Chicago.

The Chicago airport has certainly changed since August of 1978 when I moved to the windy city to attend law school at Depaul University.  I recall my father driving me to the airport. Although we treated it like an everyday occassion. I knew it was a big deal to him.  He always admired the lawyers he worked with and was proud that I was going to become one.  He bought me a pair of Nettlton shoes, and a Leayburys Suit because that is what attorneys wore.  I had all my belongings packed in two suitcases and had no idea where I was going to spend the night.  Arriving I rented a small station wagon, found the highway and drove into downtown Chicago.  I knew that a lot of students lived near the uptown neighbor hood called Lincon Park.  On the recommendation of a clerk at the Busar's office, where I stopped to pay my tutition,  I  found a old hotel waitng to be transfored into condos and rented a suite for a week for as I recall about $100.00!  It was a great week, learing about the city and finding my first apartment. A studio on the 4th floor , no elevator, but in my price range.  As it turned out I had moved into a neighborhood in transtion.  As luck would have it another law student, Charlie Booth lived a few blocks south near the Bealmont "L" train stop and we beacme friends. To let you know how naive the two of us were, or maybe just so engrossed in our leagl studies, I will let you decide.  We agreed to meet a bar half way between our places.  It took a couple of stops to understand why it was named the "closet".