Mr. Zanheiser, my fifth grade teacher...

This was the beginning of four very bleak years for me, but you were always compassionate. You played a piano in the back of the classroom while we worked, which had the North Shore parents atwitter, but you didn’t care.

Christine, a redhead, but not a Strawberry Girl (and my computer "issues" have forced me into delinquency)

I was in awe of Christine because, as our landlord back in the days of tough-as-nails Humboldt Park, she had no qualms about confronting the neighborhood ‘bangers. She had a caustic wit and steely determination I couldn’t help but admire.