Somewhere Over the South Side

I grew up on the Southwest side of Chicago. I lived there for 18 straight years. I was liberated in August of 1984. You may wonder how Galesburg, Illinois was an improvement, but let me tell you, it was as if the world had opened up to me. I had to get out; I got out; I never went back. I have done quick recon missions and worked in Markham for 5 years, but I never blended back into the clan. I thought about it several times, then, came to my senses. Or, my wife reminded me of why I left in the first place.

There is only one thing left in that area that "pulls me back in." The original Rainbow Cone. The ice cream joint of my youth. 92nd and Western, the original building still stands. There is a large, replica Rainbow cone on the roof that still lights up. The prize is a large cone, flat scooped with five flavors, into a wave of sweet delight. Chocolate, strawberry, pistachio, Palmer House, and topped with orange sherbet. Palmer House is an original, yellow vanilla with chunks of cherries. Alone, each of these flavors would not rank as favorites. I am a butter pecan man. But together, I loved this cone. It was always a stop with my grandmother, Busha, as well as a frequent destination for my mother. My dad would take us but order nothing. He was not a dessert guy.

Kathleen and I took the kids Saturday evening. It is a drive; there is no easy way to my old home. The rainbow cone was worth it. It tasted like I remembered. The memories were bittersweet. My youth is fading from memory, dying. It is hanging by a thread. My whole focus is on the future, my family, the kids, my own. I hold on to St. Rita high school and an ice cream cone. It will not go gently.