For the Love of Public Spaces

If the doctor’s office had not called, I would not even have been here writing. I would perhaps have been on the CTA Blue Line on the way to my appointment, or more likely walking from the train station to his office. But they called less than an hour before the appointment. The urologist merely needs to follow up on a February 26 procedure, so could we just do a telephone consultation? Frankly, I had wondered why they had not offered that option already, so I accepted. The only difference it would make, I noted, was that I had planned to use the opportunity to shoot photos of the empty “el” cars, the empty streets as I moved up Michigan Avenue across the Chicago River, and perhaps the empty Millennium Park downtown, if it was in fact empty. Deprived of the need to go there, I simply walked the neighborhood, shot photos of restaurants open for takeout only, and took two shots of the empty el platform. Then the drizzling rain began, and it was time to come home and await the call, which came late as the doctor scrambled to maintain his schedule.

The Western Avenue Blue Line station platform, early afternoon, March 19. If you are not from Chicago, trust me: You have no idea how unusual it is for this platform to be so empty. This is the impact of the coronavirus pandemic. Ridership is down by more than half.

But at least I got that first paragraph written, before the nurse called, as I thought about a potent issue for urban planners amid the coronavirus pandemic. Under normal circumstances, there are few subjects most planners like to discuss more than the design and use of public spaces. These come in a variety of forms, such as trails, parks, and plazas, which are generally publicly owned, but they also include a wide variety of privately owned spaces that are nonetheless generally accessible to the public, such as restaurants, outdoor cafes, malls, stores, and recreational facilities like the YMCA. The latter category is more frequently available on a paying basis, but those lines can be blurred under specific circumstances, such as the rental of public spaces for private events. The one overriding factor is that planners are very much aware that the public life of cities is very much defined by the activity levels and density of use of these spaces. An urban park visited by almost no one is not a positive sign of urban vitality. A public concert in the park attracting hundreds or thousands of happy people dancing and swaying to the music is a sign of a city in love with life and alive with culture.

Margie’s Candies, a nearly century-old family and teen hangout and source of sandwiches, ice cream, and candy for residents of Chicago’s Humboldt Park, can only offer takeout sweets at this time.

In the midst of pandemic, however, especially in dealing with a disease for which no one has yet developed an effective vaccine, not to mention a disease that disproportionately slays the elderly and those with respiratory vulnerabilities such as asthma, crowded public spaces are an indicator not of prosperity and vibrancy, but of danger. Social distancing to protect ourselves from unidentified carriers of COVID-19 is now an essential element of survival and personal protection. Yes, it’s nice to greet a friend in the park, but only if they keep their distance, and no, I don’t wish to shake your hand. There is a certain weary loneliness about this that is undeniable. Most of us are highly social beings, even the introverts among us. We like to talk, to exchange news, to share ideas. Thank God for the invention of the telephone and the Internet.

Why order online? Because, for the time being, restaurants in Illinois are not permitted to offer dine-in service. Takeout, drive-through, delivery are your only options. Blow up the photo to see the sign on the door more clearly.

But it’s more than that. Public spaces often provide us, to one degree or another, with the opportunity to move, to exercise, to stay physically fit. I got word just two days ago that the X Sport Fitness gym at which I maintain a membership would be closed until further notice. The trainers, I learned, are left scrambling to determine how they could continue to earn a living. They are joining millions of others whose livelihoods are in jeopardy until this scourge passes. If you know someone in Chicago who can benefit from in-home fitness training, let me know. I can hook them up with capable trainers.  

Coffee shops and restaurants are no longer public meeting spaces. Just get it and take it home.

I will be looking to find other ways to stay physically active. As noted in posts of years past, I am fortunate to live near the 606 Trail. I need to get my bicycle tuned up for another season, and I can ride for miles. On my stroll yesterday, I could see that joggers were making generous use of the trail, as were walkers and others. Interestingly, the Rails-to-Trails Conservancy has posted information quoting medical experts suggesting that people should seek to maintain their exercise routines and use our public parks and trails for just these purposes. There is nothing worse for physical health than being cooped up in one’s house or binge-watching past seasons of whatever. Get out and move around. Just keep your distance.

The joggers, bicyclists, and strollers are still using the 606 Trail. This is near the Western el station shown above and the photo taken less than 20 minutes earlier.

That goes for the kids, too. Playgrounds, for the most part, are still open. If you’re worried about touching the equipment, make the kids wear gloves or use disinfectant wipes on metal and plastic surfaces before letting them ride or play. But, above all, let them run around.

What we are all, I hope, trying to do for the near future is to slow or halt the transmission of this dangerous new coronavirus. That does not mean we become couch potatoes obsessed with watching our favorite 24-hour news source feed us endless details about the latest announcements, as important as they may be. There is still plenty of opportunity for most of us to stay healthy and drink in copious doses of fresh air. But we can also follow the guidance about social distancing and sanitation practices. In short, most of us should be very capable of walking and chewing gum at the same time. Just don’t spit that gum out on the sidewalk, thank you very much. Think about the safety of those around you. Use the trash can.

If we can all learn anything from this disturbing experience, it is perhaps an increased attention to sanitation and cleanliness in public spaces and the need to respect others by maintaining the quality of those spaces. Too many of us have seen public restrooms that are poorly maintained or not cleaned with adequate frequency. Those are obvious examples, but we can discern many others, including coughing and sneezing away from others, using facial tissue or handkerchieves, and simply cleaning up after ourselves, and understanding why some people find it necessary, even critical, to wear face masks or take other precautions. Think about the safety of those who must clean up after us, who often earn low wages and have less access to medical care. Don’t put them in greater jeopardy than necessary. Those of us involved in planning for post-disaster recovery often talk about finding the “silver lining” in each disaster experience. With any luck, that silver lining in the COVID-19 experience is a greater attention to public health, starting with the White House and extending all the way down to our own house or apartment.

The other big lesson for planning is the value of readiness and preparation for disaster. The old saw that “they also serve who only stand and wait” may be far more applicable and relevant than we realize. When President Trump eliminated a White House office that President Obama had created to focus on global pandemics, following the gruesome lessons of the Ebola virus, the assumption seemed to be that those studying and preparing for the next big public health crisis were simply wasting time and money. If that is true, why do we have an army of emergency managers spread across the country, preparing for natural and man-made disasters that, according to that line of logic, “may never happen”? The answer is that we should know all too well that reconstructing such capabilities after a new public health crisis or disaster is already underway wastes weeks and months of valuable time that can never be regained, and in this case, may be costing thousands of lives before it is over. Let us be wise enough as a nation never to repeat that mistake again.

Jim Schwab

Batter Up!

Angel and Alex anticipate the start of a ball game.

We interrupt this series of serious messages for some old-fashioned American holiday fun.

Well, to be honest. I’m talking about yesterday, July 3. Following great American tradition, I took two grandsons, Angel, 14, and Alex, 9, to their first Chicago Cubs game at Wrigley Field. Observing Cubs tradition, it was a day game, beginning at 1:20 p.m. Observing Chicago tradition, we arrived via CTA, taking the Blue Line downtown and the Red Line from there to Addison, walking one block to one of the most iconic stadiums in America. One special aspect of Chicago, even with two teams, is that the Red Line will get you to either the White Sox or the Cubs, and as the train moves along, the ride becomes a communal experience as growing numbers of fans enter, easily identifiable by their team paraphernalia. It is quite different from many stadiums elsewhere with huge parking lots and fans pouring out of their individual cars and SUVs. It may be crowded, but you are part of a crowd on a mission. It is fun just getting there.

Apparently, we took too long or left too late because they were no longer passing out free Cubs t-shirts to the first 10,000 people through the turnstiles, even though we arrived almost an hour before game time. That misjudgment is on me. The least I could do inside was get the boys lunch and a drink. One had nachos, one had a chicken sandwich, and I opted for bratwurst because, well, this is Chicago. What I could not accept was the idea of paying $10 for a Budweiser, so I opted for lemonade. If the vendors at least had a respectable microbrew on tap, maybe, just perhaps, I could have splurged for that beer. But not for Bud. (Sorry to offend any Budweiser lovers, but please. I just bought a six-pack of Bohemia this morning for two dollars less.)

Anyway, we enjoyed our upper-deck seats to the right of home plate in part because they were shaded on a 90+-degree day, unlike those more enviable and expensive but sun-splashed seats below us. My new Arizona hat became largely unnecessary. We were comfortable, if a little more removed from the action. By the time the game started, I had used my new iPhone to text harassing messages to my long-time friend and colleague Rich Roths, who hails from Michigan and bears the burden of a Tigers fan, despite decades of life in the Chicago suburbs. The Cubs were playing Detroit, in case I need to put a finer point on the reason for my friendly needling.

Alex fell asleep in the second inning, a source of mild amusement to Angel and myself, but he missed little from a Cubs perspective as starter Kyle Hendricks gave up three runs in five innings before the Cubs finally revved their offensive engines for a nice, three-run rally in the bottom of the fifth. By then, Alex was awake, and while he does not yet understand all the nuances of the game, he began to catch on that the Cubs were coming back from a deficit. On the way home later, I suggested to him that some day he could sit and watch a game on television with me, and I would carefully explain many of the rules and intricacies of the game so that he had a better appreciation of what was happening. To my surprise, he smiled and gave me a thumbs-up signal. One thing about Alex: He likes to learn new things.

As for that fifth-inning rally—it was classic never-say-die Cubs-style baseball. Tommy La Stella pinch-hit for Hendricks, whose time was up, and smacked a double well into the left-field ivy. Albert Almora followed with a second double, driving him home. Jason Heyward must have decided that copycat was a fine form of baseball because he powered a third double and scored Almora. Now it was 3-2, with no outs until Ben Zobrist grounded out, but that allowed Heyward to move to third. That was all first-baseman Anthony Rizzo needed to score him with a single, tying the game.

Nothing more followed in that inning, but it was enough to reassure fans that the day was far from over. In fact, today the Cubs won their sixth in a row in a home stand after falling behind early in each game. Our Cubs are not to be easily written off. In the top of the seventh, Alex decided he needed a snow cone but, unwilling to take my eyes off the action, I indicated only that I would get him one if a vendor arrived, which never happened. But Alex soon found other ways to rivet his attention. Another run scored in the bottom of the seventh on a pair of singles and a fielder’s choice, and in the eighth slugger Kyle Schwarber nailed a home run in the right-field bleachers to provide some insurance for a 5-3 lead that held firmly in the top of the ninth.

The music started as the fans filed out:

Go Cubs go, go Cubs go!

Hey Chicago, what do you say?

Cubs are gonna win today!

When we once again emerged from the shadows into the sunlight of Clark and Addison, I had the boys pose in front of the statue of Ernie Banks. They obliged, as you can see, Alex engaging in some dancing shenanigans as he did so. God bless America. George Washington may not have invented baseball, but that’s only because he was too busy liberating his country from the British Empire, so left the job to Abner Doubleday. I’m glad I chose the Independence Day holiday week for our outing. Baseball and America are just a part of each other, the “Home of the Brave.”

Jim Schwab

 

But for Fortune

Less than three weeks ago, on June 2, a Chicago Transit Authority (CTA) bus mysteriously crashed a red light on Lake St. during the evening rush hour, jumped the curb on the eastern side of Michigan Ave., and killed one pedestrian while injuring several others. The lady who died while pinned under the bus was a mother who seemed beloved by all who knew her.

I learned about the incident after going home, where my wife was watching the news. I immediately realized that this happened on a plaza in front of the office where I work, at 205 N. Michigan Ave., and that I had crossed that very corner not more than a half-hour before the accident. A co-worker related later that he had left just five minutes later. But for a matter of simple timing, either of us could have been swept up in the maelstrom. In the words of the Joan Baez folk tune, “There, but for fortune, go you or I . . . “

I was reminded of that when the news burst onto our screens this past Wednesday, June 17, of a mass shooting in Charleston, South Carolina, at the Emanuel AME Church in the heart of the downtown tourist district. As related in my blog just a week before today, my wife and I had spent the better part of a week in Charleston celebrating our 30th anniversary. While we did not step foot in the church—indeed, we did not visit any churches during our stay—we passed in front of Emanuel or near it multiple times while visiting museums and tourist attractions in the city. Had Dylann Roof chosen to launch his attack the previous week, who is to say that we might not have been caught up in some other kind of maelstrom, perhaps as he was fleeing the scene? Admittedly, being white, we were not among his intended targets, but when plans go awry, there, but for fortune, go you or I. And who is to say why it was the turn for any of his nine victims, including preachers who counted among them a state senator, to become part of the carnage? For that matter, how much do we know as yet of what made this young man the racist terrorist he apparently became?

I will not belabor the matter because we are all, at various times in our lives, either victims or beneficiaries of dumb luck. What makes us most human is simply our humility in coming to terms with that fact. Let life take a left turn here, a right turn there . . . . yes,  some people fight back nobly in the face of adversity while others collapse and surrender, but even that is to some degree a reflection of prior good fortune and mental conditioning, getting enough of a running start in life to acquire the necessary resilience, but still . . . . At some point a gun shot, a bullet in the wrong place, makes an end of things.

What makes me reflect on this is the almost absurd level of self-confidence and lack of reflection in some of those who seek leadership roles or some sort of public office. Sandwiched between the two incidents I mention above, for instance, was the announcement by Donald Trump of his latest campaign for the presidency of the United States. No humility was on display there. No sense of the limitations, real or potential, of Donald Trump. No sense of the degree to which fortune has shaped him for good or ill. He will solve everything for us, while others are simply stupid. Listen to the tape to count the number of times he uses “stupid” to describe others.

But he is not alone in his vanity or lack of self-knowledge, although his certainly seems to run deeper than the norm. Rick Perry reverts to the usual gross exaggerations of the National Rifle Association by decrying the “knee-jerk reaction” of the left in supposedly trying to take everyone’s guns away after violent incidents such as that in South Carolina. Rick Santorum, a lawyer but no scientist, says Pope Francis, who studied chemistry and once worked as a chemist before joining the seminary, should leave climate change to the scientists. (But he did attend the Sunday service at Emanuel AME Church the Sunday after the shooting.) It is a sorry spectacle.

And then there is Abraham Lincoln, a man of known frailties who somehow united a nation in the face of the worst conflict over its fate that it will likely ever face, who bled with his nation, who could express humility and inspire confidence, who led in part because he understood both the complexities of his times and how to lead in the face of controversy. And in the end, an assassin’s bullet found him. There, but for fortune, went our nation. We have not yet escaped the consequences, as another young man with a gun he should never have obtained proved yet again just last week.

Fortunately, in the most meaningful demonstration of the spirit of Christianity imaginable, several relatives of the victims of the Charleston shooting have publicly forgiven the young man. He may have a long time to ponder that forgiveness.

 

Jim Schwab