Tuesday, June 05, 2007

It’s surreal when you first see it: the tiny bungalow that housed one of the most powerful city politicians for over two decades. It sits there inconspicuously amongst a row of similarly dull structures, most of which have kids playing in their front yards. Its interior may the best kept on the block, but from the outside, nothing about the home says a legend lived there. The only thing that sets it apart from the rest of the block is the lone streetlight that looms out front over S. Lowe, right where the front gate opens to the sidewalk. Right where the limo used pick up former Chicago Mayor Richard J. Daley in the morning.

It, perhaps more so than any structure, sums up the political weirdness that is Chicago. Here was this man, extremely influential on a national scale, and sometimes equally as corrupt, who lived and raised his family in a home smaller than the ones the majority of middle class America lives in. It’s surely a self-aware testament to his blue collar Irish upbringing. A symbol that, despite his rise to power and fame, shows he’s still a man of the people, a man who never forgot where he came from.

To me it was perplexing. This man could influence the outcome of presidential elections (see John F. Kennedy), get some of the biggest skyscrapers in the world built, get away with allowing his police to pummel innocent protestors while the whole world watched on TV. Yet all the while, he was living in that tiny home in Bridgeport that, when all seven kids were over for Sunday dinner, had to be a tight fit.

As I stood there looking at the place I wondered what the point of having power was if you don’t enjoy the wealth that goes with it. I’m sure he had wealth somewhere. While he never got caught taking so much as a nickel, there had to be healthy chunks of money made running that Machine.

Then again, maybe there wasn’t. Maybe he never did take a nickel. Maybe the influence was enough for him. And maybe, despite the racial inequities, the cronyism, the narrow mindedness — he represented a dying breed of American politicians that existed in time when you didn’t have to be wealthy to be powerful.

For better or for worse.