Rainy days and mondays was a sad song

So as you know, Monday found me back downtown to plead for mercy from the housing office. After being tearfully dismissed by daughter, I set out on foot once again to spend the afternoon entertaining myself. Not hard to do right? Did I mention the cold and the rain?! It was noon yet it was so gray that it felt like evening was approaching. The umbrella was moderately helpful as I headed north once again. My stomach was howling so I ducked into a Panera Bread for a steaming bowl of amazingly creamy and satisfying mushroom soup with a perfectly wonderful half panini sandwich. Although I am dismayed at the thought of a chain restaurant appearing before me on State Street, I took advantage of it none the less. I warmed up and relaxed, taking my time and feeling alone and anonymous wishing I had daughter sitting across the table from me instead of some stranger at the opposite table also alone.You know how it is when you are facing someone and you try not to look but they are right in front of you?!
Since I was within spitting distance from Marshall Field's (that's about two blocks in my book) I headed back out into the gloom, jumped a few puddles and found myself under the old clock. And right there under that old landmark was a shabby young man huddled against the rain begging for food. I walked a few steps past him and knowing I had a perfectly intact crusty loaf left over from lunch, I turned around and handed it to him. Now you never know when you do something like this if the gesture will be sneered at or welcomed. Is the begging a ruse for quick cash to feed a habit or a genuine call for help? I figured I got my answer when I saw the young man eagerly devour the bread. Watching him for that short moment sent my emotions spiraling out of control. My nerves were shot to begin with after the last few days watching my child wrestle with city life, so I proceeded to lose it. I ran into Marshall Field's past the elaborate springtime displays desperately searching for someplace private. It was all I could do to quickly find myself a quiet stall before I totally embarrassed myself by breaking down in public. Although with all of the characters that I encountered that weekend, it is likely that I would appeared to be just another oddball.
However....when a mother sees a young person in need, she instinctively sees her own child or a friend's child there. It's sad enough to see an adult street person, disheveled and in need. It's quite another thing to see a young person in such a desperate state. I had all afternoon to fill before I would meet my daughter. I had no excuse. I pulled myself together and went back outside into that cold, gray, wet mess to revisit that sad scene.

When They Used to call it Christmas

Carson's Main Isle (Notions Dept.) 1958
Marshall Field's Main Isle 1941
Marshall Field's Toy Department 1949 Candy Cane Lane

Remember when the Christmas season used to be called the CHRISTMAS SEASON? Not the "holidays", semester break, winter break, blah, blah, blah. Come see the Macy's holiday tree!!! Oh wow, a holiday tree! What other holiday has a tree anyway? Where did we go wrong? When did it become offensive to say Christmas? Last time I checked, all the "holiday" festivities and traditions that we still do today came from the celebration of Christmas.
The Christmas season these days really is the holiday season. In retail land, it's generic, impersonal and without excitement. We have lost so much of the fantasy, opulence, grandeur, and reverence for Christmas. Do families still go downtown to view the decorated windows of the stores? Now that Carsons is gone from State Street, that leaves Marsh...gag...Macy's. Are we standing in line for hours to sit beneath the Martha Stewart Tree in the Walnut Room? Dressing up the kids to wander through the elaborate Christmas village erected to keep the kids happy while waiting to sit on Santa's knee in the Cozy Cloud Cottage? Afterwards, prouldly displaying the red button on their coats which told the world "I SAW FIELD's SANTA",then off to the Crystal Palace to reward the patient little ones with a scoop of ice cream? My kids remember visiting the Crystal Palace and if we were lucky, we would get a table by the window to view the skaters in the rink below. I'm sure that rink was a temporary fix (which lasted a few years)for the hole created by a demolished vintage building. But it sure beats the new glass and metal monolith that has since replaced the rink. You could ride the shiny brass door elevators run by uniformed elevator operators to the 5th, 6th, or 7th floors to view the main isle from above. The Main Isle of Marshall Field's and Carson Pirie Scott were decked out in displays magical and elaborate enough to rival the efforts of Disneyland. The gleaming mahogany display cases held everything you could imagine. And the toy departments were a sight to behold. Try getting that kind of thrill from the isles of Target or Toys R Us.
I recently found a wonderful book that revisits the wonder of Christmases past. It is an offering from Arcadia Publishing from their Images of America series. These books are an absolute treasure to those of us who remember and appreciate days gone by that truly were special. I selected just a few of the hundreds of wonderful photos included in Christmas on State Street 1940s and Beyond . Author, Robert P. Ledermann.


Photos reprinted with permission from Images of America Christmas On State Street 1940's And Beyond, by Robert P. Ledermann. Available from the publisher online at www.arcadiapublishing.com or by calling 888-313-2665.

P.S. I correct myself. The holiday tree that I referred to at Macy's, formerly Marshall Field's on State Street, is actually called, and I kid you not, The Centennial Great Tree, by Martha Stewart. PU-LEEEEZE!