‘Bridgeview mayor tapped for state senate’ or six-minute power transfer

Local Democrats have tapped Bridgeview Mayor Steve Landek to replace retiring state Sen. Lou Viverito, who just voted for a controversial state income tax hike.

Democratic committeemen met Saturday at Toyota Park in Bridgeview and gave the nod to Landek, who also is head of the Lyons Township Democratic Committee.

Here’s how it happened.

The conference room, where Landek was approved and applauded, was set up for a public meeting. At the head of the room, long tables flanked by flags had microphones resting on them. Committeemen took their seats.

Facing them was a small table for public comments. Residents, local politicians, police officers and business owners filled the rows behind it.

But no one came forward to speak. There were no ad hoc nominations for the 11th District state Senate seat, no discussion about Landek’s willingness to assume the position.

The meeting was over in just less than six minutes, with House Speaker Michael Madigan (D-Chicago) doing most of the talking, and the voting. An attorney stood by to ensure correct procedure.

Set up a committee to nominate a candidate? Appoint a committee chair? Nominate Landek?

“Those in favor of that motion will say, ‘Aye,’ those opposed, say, ‘No.’ The ‘Ayes’ have it. The motion is adopted,” Madigan said in a single breath.

“Is there any discussion on the question? OK, no discussion,” he said in another.

No ayes or nays were uttered. None of the committee members actually cast a voice vote.

“For those who go to our meetings, they’re pretty fast. But if you listen to the speaker, we voted in our minds, he read our minds, it was perfect,” Landek said over laughter in the room. “For those that serve on the board with me, we might do that to speed up our meetings.”

Landek said his swearing-in will take place before he gets to Springfield on Tuesday. It will be a private ceremony, he told the crowd during his acceptance speech.

“When I run and get elected as the full senator, then we’ll have a party,” he said.

Landek, who’s been mayor of Bridgeview for the past decade, said he’ll continue in both roles.

“I work a lot of hours, there’s no problem for me,” he said. “I have a huge capacity to be able to work, so I’ll do both jobs.”

Afterward, Viverito, of Burbank, applauded efforts to keep the Senate seat in the southwest suburbs.

“The emphasis had to be on the fact of trying to keep it in the suburbs rather than bringing it into the city of Chicago,” he said.

Appointed in a similar process in 1995, Viverito said he wanted to retire with two years left in his term because of his commitments as supervisor of Stickney Township and chairman of the public health district.

“I’ve almost had 16 years here,” he said of his Senate tenure. “I just got tired. I’m getting older now.”

Madigan shook a few hands, then left.

The speaker’s presence accounted for heavy security at Toyota Park, with police photographing the license plates of cars that entered the parking lot.

As published in the SouthtownStar, Feb. 6, 2011.

‘The snow’s over — bring on the routine’

The signs of morning all were there: Steaming paper cups. Hats in fur and wool framing faces slapped awake by the cold. Totes and lunch bags dangling from shoulders.

A steady stream of foot traffic through a notch in a snowbank between the Starbucks and the Oak Lawn train station.

And a canned announcement from Metra SouthWest Service announcing delays of eight to 15 minutes Thursday morning.

“That’s normal,” said Kelly Doyle, of Oak Lawn, pulling off a fur-lined hat as she awaited her train. “They should hand out notes when it is on time.”

Normal is back for workers who don’t save lives, birth babies or plow streets, but whose jobs keep us going: Accountants, bankers, designers, insurance agents.

They enjoyed a snow day — or at least spent it home uncovering driveways — but had to return to the commute Thursday morning when SouthWest trains resumed service.

It’s not that graphic design is exactly essential work, so Karen Barth’s employer closed its office Wednesday in Chicago’s Loop when 20 inches of snow buried the city.

But the usual deadlines still loom.

“I should have brought work home,” Barth said. “I have to go in.”

So she bundled into her black fur-rimmed parka and boots early Thursday morning to stand on the Metra platform and board her train, the 7:17 that left the Oak Lawn station closer to 7:28 a.m.

She probably wouldn’t have accomplished much work at home in Burbank, though, having spent most of Wednesday like everyone else, digging and shoveling and snowblowing.

As published on www.southtownstar.com, Feb. 3, 2011.

‘A ‘celebration of the century’ for Grandma Clara’

See the photos, while you can, right here.

By Lauren FitzPatrick
lfitzpatrick@southtownstar.com

They lined up Saturday afternoon in Orland Park to see the queen, the birthday queen, their great-aunt, their grandmother or great-grandmother, their longtime friend, at the party they called the “celebration of the century.”

Because on Tuesday, Jan. 11, 2011, also known as 1-11-11, Clara Niedbala will turn 100.

The best part, she said, is “just getting there.”

Her laughing face dominated the scene at Orland Chateau, where 200 people who adore her turned up to toast her.

“We are who we are today because of her,” said her granddaughter Joan Gotfryd, of Oak Lawn.

“She acts like she’s not 100!” Gotfryd’s 15-year-old son Matthew chimed in.

At every table lay cheery old photos of the birthday girl, her beloved chocolate bars covered with her picture as a beautiful young woman, and song sheets with words, her daughter Sharon Panick said, from her favorite songs, including “Let Me Call You Sweetheart,” “Show Me The Way To Go Home” and “You Are My Sunshine.”

Clara’s Life

Niedbala’s lived in Chicago’s Marquette Park neighborhood for the past 80 years.

Born during the William H. Taft administration, she moved to Chicago from western Kewanee, Ill., when she was 10. Her family lived in West Englewood. She graduated from Lindblom High School and went to business school. Clara married John Niedbala and had two girls.

She worked first at the Stoll Magazine Company then at Carson Pirie Scott as a secretary in the department that did the window displays.

“Grandma throws me all of her bones,” said granddaughter Jackie Pujol Felix, who traveled from Arizona with one of Niedbala’s fancy black hats and her Carson’s fur coat. “So I thought, I have to pull out the Grandma stuff.”

Niedbala never bothered about a driver’s license. And she showed her children and grandchildren how to navigate the city on the Chicago Transit Authority.

“She used to take the bus everywhere,” said Lorelei Witt, the niece Niedbala took into her own home. “And as she got older, Sharon told her, ‘Don’t go taking the bus downtown.’ So she’d sneak on the bus and go downtown and tell the people at the bank (where Sharon worked), ‘Don’t tell my daughter I was here because I’m not supposed to be down here!’ ”

She taught her family to bowl.

“She was the bowler of the family,” granddaughter Linda Marth said, as family photos — of Niedbala helping tiny children shove bowling balls down lanes — confirmed. “She was pretty good back in her day.”

Around Niedbala’s 80th birthday, the family started an annual bowling party they continue every March, though Niedbala put her own ball away about 10 years ago.

And she made things happen.

Godson Jim Valentine remembers one of the times Niedbala took him to see the White Sox at old Comiskey Park.

“After the game was over, I had a little autograph book and the visiting team buses used to be outside the ballpark,” he said. “So she had me up by the buses trying to hand up my autograph book (to) the Boston Red Sox to sign … and it wasn’t working so well. So she picked me up and shoved me through the window.”

Niedbala hugged, kissed and greeted all of her guests. She took her seat up front at a table with her grandchildren while everyone raised a glass to her.

And then, per the birthday queen’s request, 200 of her friends and relatives sang with her:

“Hail, hail, the gang’s all here
What the heck do we care now?”

As published in the SouthtownStar, Jan. 9, 2011

Happy New Year!

From Broad Street in Philadelphia, the best place in the world to be on New Year’s Day.

‘Burr Oak Cemetery scanned’

As a condition of its sale to a south suburban company, Burr Oak Cemetery recently has been examined by archaeologists investigating the larger of its crime scenes, Cook County Sheriff’s police said Tuesday.

Chicago-based Archaeological Research dug around at the north end of the Alsip cemetery Thursday and Friday to see how far new owners might be able to dig, sheriff’s police spokesman Steve Patterson said.

Sheriff’s police also were on site, he said.

“Items were discovered that concerned us, but we’re continuing to work with the archaeologists for confirmation on what those things are,” Patterson said.

Backhoes worked last week behind internal fences, and it looked like tractors were disking the land, too, said a neighbor whose yard abuts the cemetery. He would not give his name.

The beleaguered historic black cemetery, which was entrenched in a grave reselling scandal in July 2009, found a buyer in Cemecare LLC.

The cemetery’s owner, Perpetua, filed for bankruptcy reorganization in response to a slew of lawsuits. Four employees were criminally charged and await trial.

Cemecare’s Lafayette and Marguerite Gatling and Willie Carter requested the survey as condition of the $110,000 sale.

They wanted to see if they could use the 10 empty-looking acres along 123rd Street, either by digging more graves or building a mausoleum.

The land in question was known during the scandal’s early days as the larger of two crime scenes where human remains allegedly removed improperly from graves were dumped.

The archaeologists said they would develop a plan to investigate the 80,000-square-foot crime scene to be approved by regulatory agencies, including the sheriff’s department, and remove any human remains found there, according to the firm’s proposal submitted to bankruptcy Judge Pamela S. Hollis. Parties in the bankruptcy case are due back in court next week.

The cemetery’s administrator could not be reached Tuesday.

Cemecare already closed on Burr Oak’s sister cemetery and accompanying funeral home in Calumet Park, Cedar Park, which was not involved in the scandal.

Published in the SouthtownStar, Dec. 8, 2010.
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Printable 2010-11 Burr Oak Cemetery scanned || SouthtownStar

We are still here

A small town
Puts up a small sign
In a huge gesture
Here and now in these United States
In Nebraska.

I love this writing, Mr. Dan Barry:

HOOPER, Neb. — A few years ago, the Nebraska Department of Roads rolled out a highway bypass to hasten the already-hurried everyday pace. Motorists rushing north to Norfolk, or south to Omaha, no longer had to slow to 40 miles an hour through a blink-and-miss-it place called Hooper.

No longer did travelers have to pass the Hooper ice cream parlor, or the Hooper grain elevator, or the ancient railroad cars sitting on discontinued tracks, or the decades-old neon marquee, long past glowing, that welcomed travelers to a downtown from the late 19th century.

The people of Hooper – population 827, more or less – knew what this meant. The small green sign planted beside the new highway barely whispered their town’s name. And in the flat terrain of rural Nebraska, the eye can see far into the distance, yet miss so much. They feared being missed. Bypassed.

Another community might have resigned itself to this subtle humiliation, enduring the slight on behalf of rural America as just one more nudge toward oblivion. But Hooper was determined to raise its collective hand somehow, and say to the busy world:

We are still here.

It’s a story about a new sign on a highway in Nebraska, right?

No. It’s so much more.

I can now imagine a dozen more ways to think this way about writing in these Chicago suburbs.

They make tiny gestures all the time that mean much to them, that follow grand themes.

‘Action plan for Black Friday’

It’s often good to write outside the old comfort zone (shopping) yet using a tone I’m working on (worthy, but not too serious).

If today, for you, is simply hunkering down with family eating your favorite things on the good china and being grateful for all that you already have, then quit reading here.

Because from here on down, you’ll meet the folks for whom the turkey also serves as fuel for a big night to come of deals! And bargains! And big ticket items for the lowest prices ever!

We tracked down some of the Southland’s savviest, most furious super shoppers and twisted their arms about their plans for getting the deals at stores that offer giant discounts in the wee hours.

They’ve learned from the past, honing their all-night shopping skills. They have lists, store layout plans, strategies, help from relatives.

And then they’re off.

Come with us to see the show.

The Planners:
From Midlothian, Bob Klootwyk sets off for his single target store Thanksgiving eve, staying up all night for his wife, Beverly, who catches up closer to the opening bell. They seek a giant flat-screen TV and maybe laptop computers: “We’re just looking for the deals on big ticket items. It has to be big ticket. I will not sit up all night for a $100 item.”

In Frankfort, Karen Zybak hosts a full team of loyal friends and family at her home, where she and husband Don dole out store assignments and dispatch their family of shoppers in the middle of the night. For her, the night of shopping has become a family affair. “I’m one of them crazy people. I’ve been doing this for 29 years before it was called Black Friday. Now because every store is on it, you have to have the game plan.”

In Lansing, Leslie Rissmiller has been picking up deals since last Christmas, stacking coupons on top of sales to get $300 worth of stuff for $100. She blogs about bargains she finds in the South Suburbs at http://oneyeartodisney.blogspot.com. Rissmiller, who cleaned up all this week with a friend near her home, will finish shopping for her little girl at midnight: “I’m only thinking about only doing one store. I really focus on the whole year round. For me Black Friday is great for a couple little things.”

From Mokena, veteran shopper Rich Smith will sit this one out, burned from past attempts in vain to score a big TV by waiting all night in line: “I don’t see the benefit of it. They’re going to have big sales afterwards.

“The last few years, Black Friday hasn’t been the end-all and be-all. It’s been a tease.”

The Plan:

These next 24 hours, for the bravest and sturdiest of Christmas shoppers, are crucial. And if all goes according to plan, here’s what they’ll look like:

Thursday:

By 6 a.m., when her morning paper showed up, Karen Zybak was already wide awake and ready to scan the last of the ads and make her list.

10 a.m. Karen makes two kinds of pies and several casseroles for Thanksgiving dinner. Bob Klootwyk’s double checking his winter gear, making sure it’ll stand an entire night outside.

1 p.m. The Zybaks sit with Karen’s cousin for a long, leisurely dinner.

2 p.m. The Klootwyks sit down to eat with Bob’s brother. They dine early so there’s enough time for Bob to get ready and still arrive first outside the Best Buy.

4 p.m. Leslie Rissmiller sits down to dinner with her husband, 4-year-old daughter Claire, her parents and her in-laws, gives thanks for the doctors who’ve helped her through three bouts of meningitis this year.

5 p.m. Bob Klootwyk and his lawn chair arrive at the Best Buy, bundled against the predicted 18-degree overnight temps. Thoughout the night, his daughters and wife will bring him coffee, snacks, boosts to morale.

10 p.m. Folks start showing up at the Zybak home, stuffed from dinner. Snacks are out, coffee’s on for a lon g night of planning and playing. They compare lists of who wants what from each store, sort the goods by store, make assignments to each of the 12 or so who set out. Meanwhile, one daughter sets out for Toys R Us’s Thanksgiving night sale, then on to Walmart for midnight.

Friday:
12:01 am: Leslie Rissmiller arrives at Walmart, hones in on $4 pajamas for her daughter. Considers a certain digital camera. Checks out, calls it a night.

2 a.m. Karen heads out to drop her daughter in the line outside Target and hit Kohl’s next door as soon as it opens at 3, trying to score a posh Kitchen Aid stand mixer.

3 a.m. Bob scores his doorbusters outside the Best Buy, two hours before the store officially opens. Rich Smith adjusts his covers in his Mokena home, rolls back over.

4 a.m. Karen and daughter enter Target. One heads to electronics, the other to clothing.

5 a.m. Best Buy opens its doors to Bob and to Karen’s son.

6 a.m. Karen joins the relatives at Menard’s.

9 a.m. The Zybak party heads back to headquarters to divide the spoils and settle up.

10 a.m. Rissmiller sets out to CVS and Walgreens for a few more everyday odds and ends.

And with that, the Christmas season has begun. Only 29 more shopping days left!

Super shoppers agree about a couple of things. To making a killing on Black Friday, you have to follow a few simple rules. And if you choose to ignore them, no deals for you!

*Don’t go it alone. Two hands aren’t enough to really grab things.

*But leave small children at home. If they’re too small to help, they’re only slowing you down. Not to mention, those rugrats take up valuable cart space.

*Plan to shop, shop the plan. Running in blind means you’ll miss the best stuff. And if it’s not written down, how will you remember what you want should you get clocked in the head?

*Show up early. By the time you read this, you’re already too late. That TV is gone!

*Look at store layout plans online ahead of time. You don’t have energy to waste running to the wrong part of the store. Also, you can spread misinformation outside the store.

*Wear comfortable shoes. Even though stilettoes or big boots make for better stomping, your dogs will be barking before you make it to the other end of the store. This is the jungle, people, you’ve got take care of your feet! And without two good ones, you’re as good as dead.

*Don’t forget your coupons. That’s no joke. And organize by store, either with a separate list or by circling the printed ad.

*Skip the whole thing. There’s this thing now called “the Internet.”

Published in the SouthtownStar, Nov. 25, 2010.
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Printable 2010-12 Are you brave enough to venture out on Friday || SouthtownStar

Well, dang, Mary!

Had I know this was going to be our last assignment together for the SouthtownStar…

No, I’d have done nothing different. We always rocked it.

I have to find the clip where she got chased from a scene by Harvey police. Shot super photos of the menacing crowd, too.

So sorry to see you go, Carol, too. No ladies left in photo now and you’re good ones.

Good luck, girl. I will miss your furtive reporting skills.

‘Southland Scouts get back to basics’

On Saturday, I tried this muscle and stayed narrow, but went deep. Walked into camp on a gorgeous day and considered: Follow 150 scouts? Or one troop as they tried to build a fire?

Though the sun shone on a bright and warm Saturday afternoon, Paul Gacek and Steve Gries just had to get a fire going.

The tall frame they chose – four sticks standing against each other, kindling underneath – wasn’t catching. Tepee fires might burn the hottest, but on windy days, they’re too open underneath to catch.

So Paul and Steve and the rest of Oak Forest Boy Scout Troop 341 scrambled to change plans. They couldn’t let Midlothian’s Troop 437 beat them.

As Boy Scouts have been doing for the past 100 years, more than 150 south suburban scoutsand their leaders from seven troops camped all weekend in Goodenow Grove Forest Preserve near Beecher.

They called it a camporee.

They mastered outdoor cookery: cobblers and bacon in Dutch ovens, eggs and sweet potatoes over open flame, pizza baked in ovens made from boxes. They walked obstacle courses blindfolded, trusting directions from troopmates to make it through. They slept in tents
and stained their mouths with Kool-Aid and ran around the grounds.

And they raced, Boy Scout-style, to see which troop’s fire first could burn through a length of kitchen twine stretched about 2 feet high across metal poles.

So Paul and Steve, and Ian McNamara and Ronan Morrissey, and Andy Marcheschi and Nick D’Agostino, and other boys started over with a shape they knew as the “log cabin.” They laid down thin wooden shivs and skinny branches in a square, one piece at a time going around,
until the slatted box climbed a good foot. Justin Scasny wadded up dry leaves and dead grass and shoved the kindling into the middle.

“I have flint and steel!” Steve said, holding up both.

Instead, they lit it with lighters and held their breaths.

A few boys kept watch on the competition from Midlothian, which had built a log cabin. That fire blazed merrily, charring the bottom rope line that limited the height of the firewood.

Remember teamwork, boys, an Eagle Scout from Midlothian advised. And worry about your own fire.

Then the Oak Forest troop’s twine snapped, and its boys cheered.

Their victory, though, came 30 seconds too late.

Midlothian’s fire already had won.

But before the boys headed downhill to cook dessert, before the barrel of water was splashed on the flames, one of the fires let off a dull bang.

The Scouts were delighted: A lighter left too close to one of the fires had blown up.

Saturday assignments, I’ve decided, are for writing practice. I just wish there were an editor present, just in case.

Published in the SouthtownStar, Oct. 17, 2010.

‘Local VFW district welcomes new commander’

“What can we do?” Walter Sanders often wonders from his VFW post in Richton Park when calls come in.

A veteran is getting evicted from his apartment.

Another vet’s furnace died in the dead of winter.

Sanders recalls the day he trudged out into a wooded part of Harvey and knocked on the freezing cold door.

“I’m from the VFW,” he hollered to the man inside. “I’m here to help you.”

If helping is what the Veterans of Foreign Wars organization does, then as district commander, Sanders can’t wait to coordinate many of his 2,000 local members to pitch in.

The lifelong Southlander took the job in late June, moving up from vice commander. He’s the first black veteran to lead the district, which is made up of 14 south suburban VFW posts.

“I just happen to be African-American,” he said. “When I was elected to do this job, color was not on my mind. What was on my mind is that veterans need help.”

Sanders wants to use the next year to swell the membership and get the vets out in the community. He wants to grab the hearts of politicians so they’ll be his allies in making sure veterans don’t fall into homelessness, want for jobs or lack proper health care.

“We send out kids to war and when they get back, we don’t support them the way we should support them,” he said.

Now 66, Sanders himself entered the Air Force in June 1963, a day after graduating from Thornton High School in Harvey. His mother raised him and his three siblings in Harvey.

He was sent to Vietnam for a year in 1966 and 1967, where he worked as a “reproduction specialist,” military speak for someone who runs the printing press. He reproduced maps and printed orders and he spent a lot of time flying around the country to other bases.

When Sanders came home, uninjured, he ignored the signs he’d later recognize as post-traumatic stress disorder.

For the next 30 years, Sanders wasn’t an active veteran. He and his wife, Bernice, raised two sons, enjoyed four grandchildren and he logged 34 years with the Chicago Transit Authority as a driving instructor. He took some classes at Governors State University. Some
20 years ago, the family moved to Matteson.

In 2002, he got recruited by the Tinley Park VFW. Since then, he helped found a new post now housed in Richton Park, the Benjamin O. Davis Illinois Post 311.

He worked his way up through the district, serving as a service officer – the guy who helps vets straighten out their benefits – junior vice commander and then senior vice commander.

For the next year as district commander, Sanders is determined to get younger members signed up in the VFW and make sure the organization welcomes female vets and black and Latino members, too.

“We need to dispel the myth that we’re a bunch of old guys sitting around telling each other war stories,” he said. “The VFW does other things.”

Published in the SouthtownStar, Oct. 17, 2010, on page 2 of the Sunday Insight section.