40 years ago
Betty Friedan. The name may mean less to women today. Not so a couple of decades back. She was the subject of Julie Ann Lyman in a Review article on women’s equality, a very hot issue. She (Friedan) had written a booming bestseller on the subject several years before, The Feminine Mystique. It led to the formation of the fairly militant national group, the National Organization for Women, or NOW. The group’s aim was a truly equal partnership with men.
But, surprise! Ms. Lyman was not in Ms. Freidan’s camp – at least, in its brassy insistence. She (Lyman) agreed that abortion was wholly a woman’s domain, yet should be realized by legislation. She took issue with Friedan for “arrogantly” pushing herself into an elite, all-male dining sanctuary at the Capitol Building and demanding to be served. And – get this – Lyman even favored use of the “best weapon in a woman’s arsenal: “Our right to resort to tears when reason fails.” Aye me.
Will the male and female scales ever even? Will the liberal and conservative approaches ever agree? Will tactics follow strategies? Not that long ago, addressed envelopes commonly omitted a “whole person.” Example: Mr. & Mrs. Bill Smith. The wife apparently didn’t rate a first-name mention. This comes close to being nameless, which ain’t that far from being personless.
From the April 29, 1970 Forest Park Review
30 years ago
In the final act of Thornton Wilder’s touching play Our Town, Emily asks if there’s anyone who can realize life, and appreciate every moment of it. The stage manager tries to answer. “Saints maybe … and maybe some poets” The best he can do.
Akin to such an eternal question is the notion that we all have when someone too young dies. A too-young person died in a fire here 30 years ago. Richard L. Miranda, 13, was to graduate from middle school in two months. He ran back to his burning home on Lathrop Avenue to save his dog, a schnauzer named Heidi. Something went wrong. He never got out alive.
His schoolmates were devastated. The school principal, John Ericksen, described him as a model student, a super kid. His 12-year-old sister, Tania, survived with burns. Their mother was at work as a waitress when the fire broke. No way is known to measure her loss.
From the April 23, 1980 Forest Park Review
20 years ago
There’s something special in the air when a movie or TV crew is shooting in your hometown. Maybe the magic is in our heads because something different is afoot. There’s a quiet commotion of cameras, boom mics, tangled loops of wires, reflector panels, a few actors, plenty of extras, gofers, technicians galore and spectators aplenty.
It happened one morning when scenes of an upcoming movie, Against the Mob, were being shot. The funeral of a veteran New York City police officer was to be filmed. What more natural place than Forest Park? An early mist, an edgy cold and an overcast sky. The cortege passed through the entrance gates of Forest Home Cemetery and the cameras followed almost to the Des Plaines River. An easy wrap.
Meanwhile, on Keystone Avenue in River Forest, residents Lynn and James Winikates had turned their home over to the filmmakers for interior and exterior shots. If you’re interested, they were paid $1,500 a day by the production company, who insured them for any damages.
From the April 18, 1990 Forest Park Review
10 years ago
Match the word to the movie. Get extra credit for the actor or character who spoke them:
“I’m sick of all this, and I don’t have to take it anymore!”
“I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers.”
“Greed is good.”
“You talkin’ to me?”
Taxi Driver … Robert DiNero / Travis Bickle
Streetcar Named Desire … Vivian Leigh / Blanche DuBois
Network … Peter Finch / Howard Beale
Wall Street … Michael Douglas / Gordon Gecko
From the Private Files of a Movie Maven