Today’s blog has nothing to do with the picture you see here. This photo is of “The Bean” in Millennium Park, which I‘ve written about here before...and while this photo shows one of the best parts of Chicago, my story concerns a more seamy side.
It occurred on my last day in Chicago…in fact, my last few hours. My friend Susan and I were riding the #55 bus that starts at Jackson Park along Lake Michigan and travels along 55th Street, all the way west to Midway Airport. I was headed back to Tucson and Susan was riding with me to the airport.
As we caught the bus early on its route, we were sitting right up front with my suitcase. The ride to the airport takes about an hour…and while the bus route starts in Hyde Park, one of the more beautiful areas of Chicago, it also passes through some of the lesser desirable neighborhoods of Chicago.
Somewhere along the route, a young man in a baggy t-shirt got on board. I didn’t think anything unusual about him. He sat down near us and shortly began talking on his cell phone. As his voice was loud, it became clear he was talking to someone he was going to meet and that his friend had a somewhat limited intelligence.
He began telling his friend what bus he was on and to watch for it. He had to explain several times what street the bus was on and which side of the street it was on. As the bus approached the appointed rendezvous, he had to keep shouting to his friend that he was in the front of the bus and to look down 55th Street so he could see the bus.
His friend apparently figured it out and was waiting for the bus as it pulled up at the stop. The man on the bus (let’s call him the dealer), stood by the driver at the front of the bus. A couple of other folks were there also, ready to get off. As the doors opened the dealer allowed the two people to get out, then stepped down to the bottom step by the door and held out his hand, which I could see carried a wad of cash. His contact, the drugee, reached in with his hand, took something, then took off running down the street.
The dealer then stepped back and resumed his seat on the bus as if nothing had happened. It all happened so fast that it didn’t register for a few seconds what was going down. At first, because I had seen the wad of cash, I thought he was lending a friend some money, but after a few seconds, I realized it was a drug deal. Had to be. It was a move that had been practiced several times and the drugee was probably a regular. We guessed the drug passed off was crack as it is a cheap drug of choice for many poorer drug users.
After a few more stops, the dealer finally got off the bus and we continued on to the airport. Nobody on the bus said anything, not even the driver. I figured it happens many times a day on buses all over Chicago and that the driver would put her life in jeopardy if she said anything.
It was something to see and we had a ringside seat…and I hope never such a thing again. It was a reminder that Chicago and other cities are not just all peaches and cream for tourists like me. There is a darker side of big and little cities alike that haunts us all.
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