My brother Brian and I will most likely be the last generation of our family to work at Carson’s.
A few weeks ago, their owners Bon Ton announced that they are closing down all their stores permanently, including Carson’s.
We both were third generation of our family to work at the well-known Chicagoland department store. While I worked in the Men’s Department, first in Accessories and Dress Shirts, then in Slacks and Dockers — no snide remarks, I heard them enough when I worked there and would say, “I work in Men’s Slacks and Dockers” — and my brother worked in stock distribution, of the three generations of Facks who worked at Carson’s, our Dad had reached the highest out of all of us: furniture buyer.
The first job I ever knew Dad had was working for Carson’s on State Street in downtown Chicago. At the time I didn’t appreciate it, but the wrought iron facade of the Louis Sullivan building was an architectural masterpiece, both of early high-rises and of city architecture, of which Chicago reigns as Queen (if not King). Read Carson’s
30 years ago today (26 February), my Oma passed away from intestinal cancer, 1 month shy of her 66th birthday and about 1 month after the diagnosis. I was nearly 13 when she passed away, just shy of that age where you start appreciating the stories and history your parents and grandparents share with you, if you’re interested in family history and that sort of thing.
A few months ago, one of my cousins asked me what Oma was like, and one thing that struck me recently was that out of all my cousins on my Dad’s side of the family, probably only my brother Brian and I remember or knew Oma the best. Read Remembering Oma 30 Years After Her Passing
As a child, I remember my parents introducing me to Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, Bones, and the Enterprise, these complex characters and graceful-looking starship soaring from planet to planet. I think some of the weekly aliens scared me, especially when they flashed them up at the end of the credits. (Balok, anyone?)
I didn’t understand the cerebral and more thought-provoking parts of the episodes because, as a child, you usually don’t have those parts of your brain developed until you start hitting adulthood. So it was good to watch as something fun as a kid.
It was one of my introductions to science fiction, and one I will always be grateful to my parents for introducing me to it.
We’d just returned from lunch with my parents in quiet suburban Chicago. I’d left my iPhone at home because it was early in the morning in Christchurch, New Zealand, and I figured no one would call at that hour.
Checking my phone, I saw there were several missed calls from a few different people; something very strange was going on.
Well, geez, guys, thanks for all the positive feedback on social media about my last post. It was from the heart, all these emotions (and nostalgia) welling within me, and I’ve been waiting so long for the creative dam in my mind to burst. All your positive feedback helps tear that dam down. Thank you.
So I alluded to “shit” that’s been going down in my life, and it’s going to take more than one blog to get that all out. Where to start, though? What to write about?