Forty Years Ago
Things that go bite in the night. Police reported four incidents involving a variety of species that either got bit or were bitten. A dog owner living on Lathrop Avenue visited the Oak Park Hospital after man’s best friend bit him on the thumb. A 29-year-old man was feeding his pet skunk-that’s what it says here–when Pepe le Peu apparently didn’t care for the menu, so another bitten finger. A 2-year-old boy living on Elgin Avenue tried to pet his cat, which was already engaged in a game of play-with-the-mouse. The “bitee” was the toddler; the biter was the mouse. The boy was taken to MacNeal Hospital while the cat entered a plea of playful innocence. Not to be outdone, another 2-year-old was holding a partly eaten hamburger when the family dog nipped the lad’s finger jumping up for a bite. And the Wheel of Life rolls on, fingers and all.
In a full page ad Marlo Television Service, 407 Desplaines Ave., reported a hearing aid device–not yet perfected–that could be concealed in a person’s bridgework. Oh boy, those were the funny old days! Similar products could be partially hidden in or behind the ear or in eyeglass frames. So far, no cigar. In all cases, however, a transmitter was required to be carried in one’s pocket.
From the July 20, 1967, Forest Park Review
Thirty Years Ago
A bit o’ humor injected in political advertising is a rare thing. But if left to Bob Haeger, he’d be the one to do the injecting. Based on the premise that we all think we could do a better job than office holders or candidates, this handout, at right, was everybody’s reminder to vote for Bob. The reverse side carried more specifics. Alas, Bob didn’t carry enough votes.
Though oft-mentioned in this column, this may be his first mug shot. And contrary to the character of the man, it was his only political run.
From the Feb. 14, 1979, Forest Park Review
Twenty Years Ago
If you haven’t had enough of Haeger, here’s enough of Haeger: a little boxed notice from his Once Over Lightly column, written by himself, on himself:
“With his wife and daughters vacationing in California, the press of domestic responsibilities preclude his filing a column this week. Those responsibilities include two dogs, three cats and a telephone that rings regularly for everyone but him. He reports that he is abject over his failure to stay in touch with readers of the Review, and will remedy the situation forthwith.”
I’ve heard elaborate, abject apologies before, so how can abjectness remedy the situation? Four parts of abject to one part vermouth? With space getting scarce and with respect to Bob’s fondness for the noble martini, I promise to reprint Ogden Nash’s wonderful tribute to the silver bullet next column-with Haeger in mind.
There was something about humor, especially family humor, years ago. I’m reminded of my late, beleaguered Uncle Ed. Everyone has a favorite uncle; he was mine. I remember he said to me when I was about 8, “You know, Bobby, I came fourth in the family. I used to come fifth, but the dog died.” An aunt could never say this.
Blessings on you, Uncle Ed, wherever in this universe you are.
From the May 13, 1987, Forest Park Review
Ten Years Ago
The extreme temperatures of June 25, 1997, appeared to have contributed to the death of a 62-year-old Forest Park woman, police said. They were called by the management company of a building in the 7200 block of Randolph Street because neighbors realized they hadn’t seen Arlene Triebes for about a week. Emergency personnel brought Triebes, who was an accountant, to Oak Park Hospital where she was pronounced dead.
From the July 2, 1997, Forest Park Review