Welcome to ethnic Chicago, circa 1947. My first day on my first coop job in the Big City. Copy girl on Marshall Field's Chicago Sun (a futile attempt to take down Col. McCormick's Chicago Tribune empire). Growing up in the Southwest and Northern Florida , I was totally unprepared for the tag ends of European nationalism made manifest in Chicago's neighborhood principalities. And within the copy boy/copy girl crew in the city room of the Sun.
Yes, I certainly was aware of the color lines in the Southwest and the great abyss separating black and white in the South. But I nonetheless presumed we were all Americans. Not quite so straightforward in Chicago, where there was even a Luxembourgian block between Clark Street and the Chicago Northwestern tracks. And, I later learned, one short block near North and Halstead inhabited primarily by Gypsies. Those were glorious days for the young rube from flyover country, discovering all those neighborhood shops and foods.
I was aware that someplace way, way back in my father's family, there was a Maxwell, which entitled me to wear a particular clan tartan. And I had a great grandfather on my mother's side who had emigrated from the Undem farm in Norway. (Yes, to Chicago where he opened a grocery.) But that was about it except for my grandmother's yummy red pudding whose name I can't spell in English, though it's a first cousin to German Rote Grütze.
I've missed the great stew of peoples that is Chicago. At the time we moved to the mountains, many of the older European neighborhoods had been renewed by various Asian ethnicities. Devon had its sari palaces and bulgogi had become a staple in Rogers Park. Yes, if it's just ethnic foods you are looking for, Prescott offers a surprising variety (no kimchi, though). But there aren't the neighborhoods to go with the food!
I certainly wasn't expecting such a colorful Scandanavian folk display as I found one day in September walking Cortez across from the Square. Never have I seen so many red horses; my granddotter would just love the Linquist Realtors office!
Well, as a result, one thing led to another and today found me over at the clubhouse in Yavapai Hills for a local chapter meeting of the VASA Order of America, a Swedish-American fraternal group open to all with Scandinavian backgrounds -- quite a few of them, BTW. Originally an organization to help immigrants settle and adjust to the New World, today the group focuses on celebrating the culture and heritage of the old country.
Today's program featured a member who read from one of Tove Jansson’s charming Moomintroll children's books; upcoming events include a holiday smorgasbord. And a Santa Lucia display is promised to join the red horses on Cortez street during the holidays.
Just goes to show what can happen when you venture forth and enjoy whatever happens next.
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