Downtown Chicago

I grew up in Chicago. We moved a few times, always keeping our family just a little bit ahead of the really bad neighborhoods. We consistently moved west to avoid being trapped in the world of gang violence and morally bereft people. It felt like we were being followed by them and couldn't live anywhere for more than 3-5 years before moving steadily westward.

Most of my family found little neighborhood islands to live in that were just barely inside of the city and were somehow unaffected by the blight.

Not me, though. After I had a son, I was terrified of the possibility of him being recruited by gangs or being a victim of gang violence. I kept moving west. I now live so far west that my family seem to think that they need a picnic basket, cooler and a multi-state map just to visit me. (It's really only about 40 miles.)

I've been living in this general area for about 30 years and have become "the suburbanite" in the family. I do my best to avoid going to the city, especially downtown Chicago. Other than the Lake Michigan lakefront, there is nothing there that I cannot find here.

I always chided family for making me have to visit them without them ever coming to me and I consistently reinforced that I grew up in the city, knowing almost every part of it, therefore I was still a city girl just surrounded by a more peaceful environment.

During the past two weeks I have had to deal with legal matters that gave me no choice other than traveling to downtown Chicago. Let me tell you about my wake-up call – or culture shock.

I was on crutches, with a walking boot because I had broken my toe. I looked into public transportation, but there was no way I could use it and avoid more walking than I could manage, so I drove. The trip was supposed to eventually take me to my destination via Wacker (Wackey) drive. As an aside, I never, ever took Wackey drive even when I lived in the city. Wackey drive has an upper and lower portion and if you make the slightest mistake or miss any turn, you are doomed, like a rat in an ever-changing maze that could land you in Oz, or worse.

The portion of Wackey drive that Mapquest and my Garmin directed me to use was the only portion of Wackey drive under construction. Confusing detour signs left anyone who was not familiar with the area immediately lost, and I could hear your Garmin lady becoming more and more frustrated with me. Designated one-way streets all over the downtown area always impeded my desire to reach my location in any logical manner.

You know you are really in trouble when your Garmin tells you to make an illegal U-turn, then refuses to speak to you anymore. I wonder if Garmins are capable of trying to get you killed so that they can acquire a new companion who's more inclined to follow directions.

All of the streets had signs in the middle that said, "Pay at Paybox," though there is no paybox to be seen. Anyway, there are no spaces where anything other than a smart car could fit. Finally, I parked in a lot that I hoped was close to my destination, hobbled onto the street, and asked a doorman where my destination might be. Luckily, it was right across the street from where I was. I made it!

After sorting through various legal issues and documents, I steeled myself for the return trip. I crutch out to the exit and stand there in the doorway while platoons of commuters walking side-by-side, like an endless parade of single-minded army ants that covers the entire sidewalk rush by, looking stressed and perfectly willing to knock you down if you get in the way. They are on their way to the trains that will take them back home, but they really look angry and miserable.

I finally find a tiny bit of open space and try to quickly crutch across. No one shows any sign of slowing down or even making an effort to miss colliding with me, so I try to crutch more quickly. (Ow!) I finally make it back to the parking lot to discover that the 2 hours I parked in the lot will cost me Thirty Dollars! Upon leaving the lot, I discover that these same single-minded angry people will not willingly let anyone make a right turn or a left one. They just keep streaming by until you have to slowly nudge your car up to them to make your turn.

My Garmin was still angry with me. Because of the tall buildings and elevated train tracks above, she kept having hiccups, recalculating and changing directions. It took 30 minutes just to drive the few blocks back to the expressway. When I finally reached the expressway and the road to freedom, I felt muscles relaxing that I didn't even realize were tense.

Never again.

I didn't like going into that maze when I actually lived in the city and it's now even worse than I recall. Finally reaching I88, I could completely relax. Ahh… home soon.