The man was Vincent Starrett, and he lived at the Oak Manor Hotel (now the Write Inn) from about 1926 until his death in 1974.* Vincent was the founder of the Chicago Chapter of the Baker Street Irregulars, which refers to a group of London street urchins often used by Sherlock Holmes for undercover work. Vincent wrote the real story of Sherlock Holmes in his 1933 book, The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes. He wrote over 40 books, many of them critical essays dealing with the great detective, and from 1940-1965, Vincent wrote a book column for the Chicago Tribune that was very popular with my family. Since my dad also worked for the Trib, he knew Vincent quite well.
Whenever I would take Sunday afternoon walks with my grandfather, there were times when we would see Mr. Starrett on Oak Park Avenue, and my grandfather would always tell me that Vincent was a great author and critic. I never met Mr. Starrett personally, but I wish I had.
*Vincent Starrett is buried in Graceland Cemetery.
The Balloon Man
Gentle Joe worked as a machinist during the week and sold balloons at the corner of Oak Park and Chicago avenues every Sunday. A few years after service in World War II, he took over the Sunday job from his dad. I believe he sold from the late 1940s until the mid-’80s.
Whenever it rained, he would stand on our porch until the rain stopped. He was a very gracious man, but he was a man of few words.
One Sunday I saw him save a young lad from certain death. The little guy wasn’t paying attention, and he stepped onto Chicago Avenue right into westbound traffic. Mr. Joe released his balloons, jumped into the street and pulled the boy to safety. The neighborhood guys were playing softball on the corner lot, and one of us let out a yell for the boy to get back on the curb, but the boy didn’t hear the warning. Thank heavens Joe was at the right spot at the right time.
After I married and moved away from Oak Park Avenue, I didn’t see Joe very often, but whenever I did, I always stopped to say hello, and he would say, “Oh yeah, you’re the kid who lived in the white house with the pillars. How are you doing?”
Our mailman
Our mailman’s name was Christ Cates. He grew up in the apartment over the Nickel Real Estate office on the northwest corner of Oak Park Avenue and North Boulevard.
Not only did Christ deliver our mail, he also delivered the Sunday newspaper.
Whenever I see Christ now-usually at the main library-I’ll say, “Do you remember (so and so)?” He’ll reply, “Oh yes, 622 N. Oak Park.” Then I’ll say, “How about ____?” Christ will say, “Sure, 517 N. Euclid.” We go through this ritual whenever we meet. He not only has a great memory for names and places, but just ask him about the Cubs and Sox, and he’ll tell you all about ballplayers from 50 and 60 years ago.
Christ is long-retired now, but he continues to live in Oak Park, which to him is “the greatest town in the world.”
When I think about or see Christ, I can only say, “What a guy!”
John Stanger is a lifelong resident of Oak Park, a 1957 graduate of OPRF High School, married with three grown children, and an English professor at Elmhurst College. Living two miles from where he grew up, he hasn’t gotten far in 68 years.
