Angel Dance

I just saw a video for a song called Angel Dance by Robert Plant.  It is a cover of a Los Lobos song. The video was filmed in the Pilsen Neighborhood of Chicago, where I grew up.

 

Some of the images brought back some really great memories I have of growing up there.  Pilsen was/is a predominately Hispanic neighborhood.  When I was growing up, over thirty years ago, a good percentage of my neighbors were straight from Mexico, barely spoke Engish, were Low-Income, but very hard working.  I felt that the video portrayed Pilsen in a very positive light.

I remember growing up in my grandfather's apartment building on a corner street.  We lived on the second floor with my Aunt, Uncle and cousins in the back apartment.  There was a tavern on the first floor and my grandpa lived in the back first floor apartment.  We didn't have a very big yard at all so the sidewalk was our playground.  We did have an empty lot across the street where we would play softball in the summer.  My cousins and I would play in the hallways and sneak up to the Attic sometimes.

My grandfather was considered the "Mayor" of 18th Street because he knew just about everyone in the neighborhood and would talk to everyone as he walked his dogs during the day.  He spoke broken English but had a smile with twinkling eyes that just made you laugh.  He always knew when we were up to something.  He would just give us that look and we knew we were busted.

In the summer time it would get so hot that the only relief would be when someone would open up one of the fire hydrants and all the neighborhood kids and sometimes adults would run in and out of the water as someone would use an old tire and wood board to create a spray fountain.

We would ride our bikes all day long to Harrison Park or even go as far as McKinley Park, which was two or three neighborhoods over.  I remember "pick-up" softball games, the ice cream vendors, the mariachi music, the penny candy store, the mouth watering aromas of the Supermercados, and just hanging out with friends until it was time to go home.

It wasn't the safest or cleanest neighborhood, but it was home and we didn't know that we were poor.  We just went to school, came home, played and went on with life. I think a lot of what I saw and did during those times makes me think back on how easier life was when we didn't have much.  I know that growing up in that neighborhood made me a tolerant, compassionate person. 

Although, some would argue that I have a hard and brash personality that might seem abrasive and distant.  I learned at an early age that you had to put up a tough exterior in order to survive. I guess I have carried that attitude with me throughout my life because it's a safe haven and I'm used to it. Very few people have seen through this exterior when I let my guard down.

For all the loud noise there is a gentle soul there and I know it's because of how and where I was raised.  There was love, strength and compassion.  I just hope that my children will be able to remember their childhood as fondly as I do.  More importantly, I hope they can carry my better attributes with them as they grow up and have kids of their own.