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typed letter that have ever appeared locally, usually in the Chicago Tribune.
The O'Connor Travel Service used to have an office downtown, moved out to the far west side about four years ago. I recall sending your name to them at a time when you were thinking of going overseas once more. The O'Connor people are unobtrusive, send me the same prospectuses yearly. This last time I received the advertising of the Atlantic Restaurant & Pub, which is situated in an area I used to know well, as in those 1920 days I worked on the Milwaukee RR, which had a tiny, modern brick station out there, which is known as Elmwood Park, roughly 7200 west. At that time, and this was true of most of the fringe Chicago areas, the Italians and Pole populations were building their homes, quite often from purloined wood and other materials they took off their jobs. "Polacking:" it was called. Now the Italians are in the majority, with some syndicate figures, the minor ones, living thereabouts. Although my son knows my attitude twoard the Great American Sucker who continually falls for foreign "atmosphere," he keeps at it, and one night about two years ago he took me out to the area, which had expanded so much I hardly knew it - so that we could go to this Atlantic, Etc. joint, where they then had a sign outside reading "Irish and British restaurant." They had real draught Guinness and good.
When we got inside there was the most awful din from three men dressed in kilts, one with a huge drum, the other two blowing bagpipes for all they were worth, something you'd never see or hear in a Scottish pub. When the middle-aged waitress, who only by chance was Scottish, appeared she asked me what I'd have, I replied " a pair of earmuffs," as the noisy trio were marching back and forth past the tables, contributing heavy "atmosphere." Meals all had fancy names such as London Steak, Dublin Pork Chops, etc. Innocent Americans sat around thinking they were absorbing life abroad. I asked the waitress if she'd ever heard of having bagpipes and drums with meals when she lived in Scotland, and very guardedly she said, "You know I just work here, so have to be careful what I do say, but I think the cops might be called in if such an uproar went on in any decent restaurant over there." The din kept on all during our meal. the rest of the Americans seemed to enjoy it all, and suddenly, which is not apropo just now, I wonder if you remember the Ontra Cafeteria, which for many years advertised "No Orchestral Din," a phrase that originated in the 20's, when the dining craze was on, when even little Chinese restaurants had a small dancing floor, with usually some collegiate musicians doing their tricks to help pay their way through college. The Atlantic Restaurant wasn't too expen- sive, but I couldn't recommend the place, though maybe O'Connor Travel agency has an Irish paisan who owns or runs the place. You'll probably con- tinue to receive membership cards, just as I do. No obligation to send $$.
Though winter is trying hard to come and the fine elm trees are now
bare, the weather here has for the most part been tolerable. I trust you and family are reasonably well. My son will be coming this way (no doubt on demand of his wife) - "Pa's rich, Ma don't care," ad I'm sure he's kept financially pretty thin by her constant demands. I will continue to try and write something worthwhile, but like most of the ignoramuses I worked with all my life, I keep writing without too much confidence that it won't take forever to write properly.
Regards,
written in black ink Mead
written under signature just noticed that the
restaurant mentioned has
same address as Celtic
Heritage
Club.
P.S. underlined re the Englishman who is collecting unconscious humor, I remember how as kids in school we enjoyed Robin Hood outsmarting the sheriff of Nottingham. Of course, R.H. never lived, but people still think underlined he did.