The experiment began in early February. Called “Ask Rick,” it is intended to be a way for readers to ask me questions that they might have about the place we all call home.
There was a time, before Google, Wikipedia and all those other sources of often suspect information, when people might ask questions of the nearest bartender, teacher or call the neighborhood library.
The thought, by some of the bosses around here, was that “Ask Rick” would be a good way to connect with readers. I told them that I always answer email questions that come my way and still answer my own office phone. But I’m game for any new twist in this ancient business and so agreed to take any and all who chose to write to www.chicagotribune.com/askrick.
A bonus might be that the answers to some of the questions might be sufficiently complex and interesting as to warrant a column in the paper.
So, a month in and a few dozen questions later, I realize that some readers surely did not get it and asked such questions as “What makes Jason Alexander such a great actor?”; “Where can you get a good grape shake in this darn town?” and “How’s everything going, Rick?”
Some took the form of commentary: “As you probably know, (David) Mamet co-founded St. Nicholas Theater, which staged a kids musical written by William H. Macy! (Captain Marbles When You Wish Upon a Cookie).” And one was a bit morbid: “Many obits are written in advance. Knowing the final details will come from others, what does Rick Kogan write about his own life for his own obit?”
Here is a question that came from a person who lives on the South Side and wanted to know about something that once towered over her neighborhood near Jackson Park: “What happened to the original Ferris wheel designed by Mr. Ferris for the World’s Fair?
She requested anonymity, as anyone asking a question is able to do, and get. This one did deserve a column. Indeed it already was the subject of a 2015 column and here is a portion of that:
The Ferris wheel “was a great wonder of the world. Two-hundred-and-fifty feet in diameter and carrying 36 cars, each able to accommodate 60 wide-eyed passengers, it was an engineering marvel and an entertainment that taxed the vocabularies of even the most superlative-minded.
In 1893, “the tallest building in Chicago was the world’s first skyscraper. The Home Insurance Building was 10 stories and 138 feet tall when built in 1885. … The Wright Brothers were still a decade away from their first flight. So the riders of the Ferris wheel were afforded views only available to birds and clouds.
“In its nearly five months at the fair the wheel took nearly 1.5 million paying passengers into the air.”
“That wheel came down, of course. In the spring following the end of the fair, it was dismantled and moved (at a cost of $14,000 and over 86 days) to an area near Clark Street and Wrightwood Avenue. There it would, some investors hoped, anchor an entertainment complex with landscaped grounds, a restaurant, band shell and vaudeville house.
“But the crowds never came. Perhaps the novelty had worn off. Investors lost their shirts, and in 1896 its creator, George Washington Gale Ferris, died of tuberculosis. He was only 37 and wasn’t around on the June day in 1904 when his great wheel was sold at auction for a mere $1,800. As reported in the pages of the Tribune, ‘The auction was a touching scene, marked with the usual reminiscences of past glory.’
“But visitors to the Louisiana Purchase Exposition in St. Louis later that year found the wheel, pieced back together and again set in motion. But after that fair closed the Ferris wheel was dismantled and sold as scrap and gone for good. And so it goes.”
Chicago’s history is rich with questions.
I was intrigued by this from Kevin M. Letz, who asked, “Whatever happened to John Dillinger’s dog after John was shot. I know the answer.”
I didn’t even know Dillinger, shot to death outside the Biograph Theater on July 22, 1934, had a dog. I did a bit of research and came up empty so I just asked Letz for his answer and he told me this: “My great uncle Jack Leahy was a Chicago cop at that time. Family legend is that he took custody of Dillinger’s dog after the death of Dillinger.” He added, “It’s interesting to note in a few of the Dillinger movies (Warren Oates) they show them outside in trench coats on a cool evening. We in Chicago know that Dillinger (went) to that theater since it was air cooled being a 100 degree day in Chicago.”
One more question: “When you are downtown and walk south starting on Washington Street the streets go in the order of American presidents. Why is there not a Jefferson Street?”
There is a Jefferson Street. You can see it on the first survey map of the city created by a fellow named James Thompson in 1830. Chicago was just a village then and Jefferson Street, named for the country’s third president, was near its western border, with Dearborn Street (named for Fort Dearborn) bordering on the east. Kinzie Street, named for early settler John Kinzie, was the northern border, with Washington Street, named for the first president, doing the border chores to the south. In later maps and surveys, the names of such other presidents — Monroe (fifth), Adams (second) and Madison (fourth), and so not in order of their presidencies — made their way into the urban landscape.
Feel free to ask a question of your own.
rkogan@chicagotribune.com
Twitter @rickkogan
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