Wave of the future

Commemorating Martin Luther King’s birthday is fun because dreams are always coming true, slipping in quietly like someone late to church. Today in glumpy and gloomy Chicago, I saw three of them:

1. Near his double-parked car on Wellington, a street known for drivers who honk, alot; a 40ish fellow with strong arms hoisted a senior lady out of her wheelchair, swung her over a puddle the size of a retention pond, into the backseat of his car. Nine cars waited. No honks. A small hand, belonging to the lady he tucked into his backseat, waved and waved and waved out her window like a regent blessing her subjects.

2. A big Penske moving truck backed out of the alley next to the Vic Theater to ease onto Sheffield Avenue, a street where ease isn’t the first word come to mind. Cars in both directions paused while the van driver serenaded them with a jaunty honkety-honk-honk tune he played on his truck horn. Straightened to drive away,he added one more Honkety-honk-honk and four of the delayed drivers tossed him a wave.

3. A mom with three incompatible things – overstuffed shop cart, overheated elevator full of folk, and overly ambitious child too young to walk who figured he’d try it anyway – tried to move her triad off the elevator. One rider held the door open, one rider balance her tipsy cart load and one rider hoisted the would-be walker up onto his shoulder. If her hands weren’t so full, I am pretty sure the mom would have waved her thank-you.

About Mrs. Fitz

Hello! I'm Michele Fitzpatrick, a Chicago writer. Like our town, a work in progress. As a journalist, teacher and writing coach I think all of us live our stories and sharing them creates moments that remind us we're connected. And that is enough.
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