Forty Years Ago
Because there was $75,000 in the village coffers due to efficient parking ticket writing, police felt justified asking for a $1,000 per year, per man raise. Spokesman Officer Howard Sawusch told of a council meeting the previous fall in which Mayor Mohr agreed that a raise was in order. However, Commissioner Earl Witt said it couldn’t be granted because the money was not in the current budget.
As Kurt Vonnegut repeated in one of his novels, “So it goes.”
Ex-mayor William Meyer, running against Howard Mohr, had this to say: “I believe the policemen were forced into this drastic action partly because the mayor’s [Mohr’s] duties as senator detracted from his responsibilities here at home.”
From the April 6, 1967, Forest Park Review
Thirty Years Ago
File this under “Amazing.” Police Sgt. Richard Archambault, so dedicated that he was known for his 24-hour-a-day work habits-on and off duty-found himself behind Riveredge Hospital one afternoon in search of three fugitives. After making a back-up call he began searching the grounds. Suddenly one of them appeared from behind a tree and fired point blank at Archambault, who was struck in the thumb. Another shot, and he thought this one got him “around the middle.” The trio fled as he felt for the location of the second wound.
When Chief Drane, riding back-up, arrived, he noticed the officer’s badge, which he wore clipped to his waist, missing. Apparently, the second bullet hit the badge, tearing it away from its leather holder. Archambault later admitted, “I guess I was just lucky,” which-to beat a good phrase to death-ranks way up there in understatements like Noah’s when he said, “It looks like rain.” So it goes.
Jackie Schulz, who started her column before mine, recalled a truly nice man who owned a sporting goods and clothing store on Madison Street-Sam Zussman.
Per Jackie: The closest thing to an old-fashioned general store in Forest Park is Sam Zussman’s place. Many of the old guys used to hang around there for conversation. No arguing–well, only a little. Sam was the town philosopher who provided an attentive ear during their get-togethers. There were generous helpings of humor. The cracker barrel host (as befits any philosopher) was well versed in a number of subjects. He was so interested in young people and sports that he wrote high school columns on the subject for this paper in the ’80s.
From the April 20, 1977, Forest Park Review
Twenty Years Ago
Haeger tells us that before there was a Doc Ryan’s there was a Maguire University. “The late John Maguire was the owner, and many of my acquaintances pursued their advanced degrees at this establishment.” Haeger further tells us that one year in the 1980s Maguire University found its way into Chicago’s Yellow Pages under “Colleges and Universities.” More than once when the curious called requesting a catalog they were told they had reached a saloon. And more than twice the reply was, “Good, send a catalog for my brother, too.”
Haeger’s suggested curriculum included, “Barleycorn-An Insightful Analysis of John Jameson … Usquebaugh, the Water of Life … and A Dram or Two with James Joyce at Twilight.”
From the Feb. 28, 1987, Forest Park Review
Ten Years Ago
Remember the old Smiley faces on both of Forest Park’s water towers? They were the brainchild of former Public Property commissioner Ed Lambke, and came out of the 1970s. When they first appeared here in 1974, the Review reporter reported: “Put on a happy face. That was the instruction from Comm. Lambke to workmen near completing painting the north side tower. The final incarnation of the Smileys disappeared in 1997 when both structures were painted in conventional white.” So it goes.
From the Feb. 26, 1997, Forest Park Review
