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).
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Friendship of Ages

First I apologise if the formatting of this blog is a bit different from my normal ones but I’m entering this blog from my iPhone in my parents’ lounge while construction workers are installing the granite bench top in the remodelled kitchen. Maybe the epoxy fumes are getting to me; I don’t know.

Our friends Anne and Steve made the pilgrimage from Carbondale (or as Anne described it, “Carbonjail”) twice to come see us. I’m really humbled they take a moderately long trip to come and see us.
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