tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978152.post1897323254748739668..comments2023-10-18T05:38:08.545-07:00Comments on . . . With Both Hands: Out of the Mouths of Cops - People Still Speak to One Another: Inspite of City Hallpathickeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01051997614374510451noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978152.post-4046682107720427782016-09-06T07:03:15.930-07:002016-09-06T07:03:15.930-07:00This comment has been removed by the author.pathickeyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01051997614374510451noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978152.post-480418644816680342016-09-06T07:02:57.467-07:002016-09-06T07:02:57.467-07:00Thanks again, Tom. BTW - I went to Loyola (70-74)...Thanks again, Tom. BTW - I went to Loyola (70-74) with a young lady by the name of Nancy Best and i believe she was from Brainerd. Are you related?<br />pathickeyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01051997614374510451noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978152.post-13413149185928995782016-09-04T21:31:53.769-07:002016-09-04T21:31:53.769-07:00Another great post. Just like every good Nelson Al...Another great post. Just like every good Nelson Algren story which is replete with a neighborhood tavern, so every Chicago neighborhood was replete with its neighborhood tavern. And, yeah, it was a great way to get to know people, to listen, to learn. Hey, my Uncle Mike had a tavern on East 92nd Street, one of those corner ones, with a pool table and just a bar. No tables. No fancy food. And most of the patrons were steel-mill workers, you know, salt of the earth guys. And I got to visit there when I was six years old. He and my aunt lived in the back. And my mother's friend's mother, a Croatian woman, ran a tavern in South Chicago. Again, most of the patrons were steel-mill workers. And even in Brainerd we had a few establishments. And in Beverly, except east of Western. And yeah, most guys didn't go there to get plastered. They went there to unwind and enjoy each other's company. Maybe watch a ball game. Most likely on an old black-and-white Zenith TV. Yeah, there used to be neighborhoods. There used to be taverns. There used to be real conversation. Yeah, Pat, you're right. Thank God for bloggers like you.Tom Besthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01736684688714492335noreply@blogger.com