Evanston

If you walk north from my front door a half block, the sidewalk dead ends into a path juxtapositioned between the golf course and Leahy Park. Continue a few hundred feet and turn east on Lincoln Avenue, and eventually cross Sheridan. Go past the water reclamation building and around the athletic center, and you will come to my favorite place.Wend your way through the ambling students and the outdoor athletic field, and eventually you will reach Lake Michigan. Almost as if by surprise, the incomprehensible body of water jets into view framed by green grass over landfill, a winding path along the waterfront, and an odd assortment of grafitti'd concrete haphazardly placed as an embankment.This is my EvanstonThis is particularly odd for a guy who has never owned a beach pass, hates sand, and rarely swims in anything but pools.Certainly my youth was much more colored by the shops lining Central Street on the northwest side. Primordial memories of riding in the back seat of my mother's Buick station wagon while we dropped off laundry at the drive through dry cleaners. Or stealing my first candy at Deacon's Dime Store and then feeling remorse shortly thereafter. There were trips through the alley that started adjacent to the old house on Lawndale and ended at the White Hen Pantry.The pantry eventually turned into a 7-11. Then it closed. The Deacon's is now a real estate office. Strangely, the dry cleaner still stands. The path leads ...

Source: In My Humble Opinion - September 2, 2016 Category: Primary Care Authors: Jordan Grumet Source Type: blogs