Forty Years Ago

Rickey Nelson, son of Mr. and Mrs. Ben Nelson, formerly of Forest Park, now of Columbus, Ohio, graduated June 15 from Ohio State University with a B.S. in business administration. He will move back with his dad and mom (Ozzie and Harriet), set up a makeshift recording studio in his old bedroom, share the place with some old pals and get into this new-fangled rock and roll thing. (Just kidding. Wanted to see if you were paying attention.)

Old news to some, but news to others: Aviator hero Charles Lindbergh was known to Forest Parkers as one of the “pioneer mailmen” who flew the St. Louis-to-Chicago mail run in 1926, then amazed the world by making it solo from New York to Paris non-stop in 33.5 hours. Often, he flew converted WWI planes known as “flying coffins.” The mortality rate for these pilots was not much lower than those who flew them in combat 10 years before. Even “Lucky Lindy” had to bail out one night-with the mail still secure in true hero fashion-as fog and lack of fuel downed his plane over an Illinois farm. His specific landing place here was Checkerboard Field, the current site of Miller Meadow. Frequently, Lindbergh slept overnight in a rented room in Forest Park.

From the July 13 and June 27, 1967, Forest Park Review

Thirty Years Ago

A last, desperate way out. On a Sunday evening the 45-year-old driver parked his car on the Circle Avenue overpass, set his hazard lights and yanked the emergency brake. He climbed the guardrail-then unprotected by extended fencing–and stepped off, falling 30 feet onto the eastbound lanes of I-290. Then the screeching of brakes from stunned motorists. He suffered multiple broken bones, and his condition was critical after being rushed to Loyola Medical Center. He had not been struck by any vehicles.

From the July 13, 1977, Forest Park Review

Twenty Years Ago

Hard to believe it’s been 20 years since Mayor Fred Marunde stepped down, and nearly 30 since he began his first of two terms in office. Bob Haeger devoted a column to Marunde citing reasons why Fred was such a good fit for the village. “He was a thorough as well as thoughtful mayor, who organized his duties as well as his time,” said Haeger. Though he often worked late and over weekends, he regularly ran notices in this paper listing extra office hours he was available to the public at village hall. Haeger added he did all this despite the demands of his own job and the heartache he and his wife Roberta endured by the devastating illness of their daughter, Kimarie.

Fred Marunde suffered a heart attack earlier this year in his Florida home, where his recovery continues to be steady.

Where there’s Haeger, there’s humor: He shared this classified ad from a husband of two years–“For Sale, complete set of Encyclopedia Britannica. Never used. Wife knows everything.”

Just another ho-hummer workday. The manager of Aldi’s, 7714 Madison St., closed up shop at 8:40 p.m. Walking to his car in the rear lot, he heard one of those noises that can straighten you up real good-the unmistakable click of a trigger being cocked. Taken back to the store at gunpoint, he was tied with nylon bands and led to the office safe. The gunman beat the manager until he revealed the combination. He then removed the $200 from the canvas money bag, placing it over the manager’s head. The deed was dirty. The getaway was clean.

From the April 29, 1987, Forest Park Review

Ten Years Ago

Damon Runyon, a writer and gambler of style, was also a seasoned and accurate observer of the human zoo. These words are his, and they’re more honest than clever: “In all of life, the odds are about six to five, against.”

From the May 8, 1997, issue of the Forest Park Review