I would like to think that this pristine underground tunnel with the approaching shiny new subway train would still exist were I to venture down below the streets of Chicago. But I know better, I saw it with my own eyes and smelled it with my delicate and easily offended nose. I imagine that it is not a subway train at all but a time machine that would take me back to the city in the late 40's, early 50's. When ladies wore gloves and dresses and men rarely went out in public without a hat or necktie, no matter the weather. The war was over and life was getting back to normal settling into an era of relative peace and prosperity for the average person.
Supper clubs and elaborate movie houses were scattered throughout the city. Streets were bustling with shoppers and business people, mostly still city residents rather than suburban commuters. That would come soon enough. Before long, many young couples ventured out for a little more room in the 'burbs to raise their families in the fresh new surroundings of affordable new first homes.
And the next generation would make their trips downtown courtesy of the solo family car or by way of the Illinois Central or Rock Island Lines that stretched out to meet the needs of the south and north suburbanites. Even in the late 60's and early 70's the IC still had the old "ironside" train cars that were a history lesson in themselves. They were single story heavy iron dinosaurs with worn wicker seats that would leave a waffled imprint on your backside in the summer.
I made my move to the city after college in the early 80's. My preferred mode of transportation was my own two feet or the 151 bus line (which was not without the occasional derelict/pervert/wacko), with a rare cab ride when the budget allowed and the evening was late. I saw the stairs that led down to the subway but hadn't a clue where they led! I wasn't brave enough to find out and figured I could live without knowing. My first subway ride came 20+ years later thanks to daughter and her incredible ability to find her way around any town, anywhere. Its like a sixth sense she has. Fearless and somewhat reckless I would say. I have to say I saw neither women in gloves, nor men in hats in that underground world. It was like a creepy movie with a cast of bizarre characters. Some harmless and entertaining, some sinister and unsettling. How she can skip over the puddles of pee and focus on where she's going is beyond me. She admits that she is often harassed and left to fend for herself even when surrounded by able bodied "men" who in another era would have risen to her defense. Gallantry is gone with the wind and crude behavior is the norm. As modern as she is, she would have fit right in to the earlier age of ladies in gloves and gents in hats. So if you ever see a petite young lady on a subway, a bus or a train, she won't be offended if you offer her your seat, tip her your hat, or give the bums rush to a masher. There are still ladies out there gentlemen, even if they are not wearing gloves.
