My wife and I took the 2:36 Metra Downtown so I could co-host the Sun-Times Roast of the Chicago Skyline architectural boat tour. We could have taken the 3:36 and still made the boat. But, cautious man that I am, it seemed smart to build in time for train delays. I was worried enough about giving the tour without also having to worry about getting to the dock.
Arriving at Union Station with two hours to spare, we decided to walk the 45 minutes to the Ogden Slip, so I could eyeball the riverfront I’d be describing. We took the Riverwalk, mobbed with young people on a gorgeous summer day, doing what young people do — drinking and talking and standing around. Some spots were like pushing toward the bar at a crowded party.
None of this was extraordinary, and I only mention it here because we’ve got President Donald Trump calling Chicago the “worst and most dangerous city in the world, by far.”
That’s ridiculous, or would be, except fear is contagious. Lots of readers echo him.
“Hardly a night went by regardless of season that I did Not hear gunshots in Chicago,” wrote Mike Elmore, now a resident of Florida, who lived in the South Loop, two blocks west of Grant Park, and must have extraordinary hearing.
“People who live and work in Chicago should feel safe there (just like the folks in Washington DC do now),” wrote Patricia Bajek, of the western suburbs, showing a surprising ability to read the minds of everybody in our nation’s capital. “I do not live in Chicago, nor do I visit it anymore. … My last few times coming to Chicago before pulling the plug, I did not feel safe.”
Maybe she didn’t. And some people feel unsteady trying to walk across the room. That is not, in itself, an indictment of walking.
I shouldn’t mock these people — it isn’t entirely their fault. Not with the president slandering Chicago on a daily basis to rationalize sending in the military. Some obviously believe the man, which to me is dumbfounding, akin to sending $3,000 as a sign of good faith to the purported widow of an African businessman who reached out to you via email, trying to give away $200 million in gold bars.
Throwing mud at Chicago is a kind of armchair sport. Anyone can play.
“From what I have been told the absolute worst area in West Garfield Park area,” Dan Baldwin wrote. “It got so bad there everyone moved out. Now nothing but empty building and empty lots. … It’s a lot worse than anything in Baltimore or DC.”
He’s never actually been there. I have. Al Raby High School. Garfield Park Conservatory, which is presenting its Artist’s Garden Flower Show until Sept. 14. You might argue that the conservatory is technically across Hamlin Avenue from West Garfield Park. But that is to delve into the factual world. When you explain crime statistics to people, they do not go, “Oh, sorry, I was misinformed.” They take what I’m saying — “Chicago is not an especially violent city; there are dozens of cities more dangerous, many in red states where the National Guard will never set foot” and twist it. “Ohhh, you’re saying Chicago is not violent at all!”
The old sleight of hand, the way Kristi Noem is on the radio constantly, decrying “heinous migrant criminals,” rapists and murderers and child pornographers, who turn out to be children themselves, or day laborers whose crime is trying to come to this country.
“’Chicago is not a particularly violent city?’ I beg to differ. I served in the armed forces,” wrote Garrison Miller. “In the last 5 years in the war in Afghanistan less people died on the battlefield than in the 1st 6 months here in Chicago by half.”
When I pointed out that he is comparing raisins with grapefruits — the population of Chicago is 25 times the U.S. military presence in Afghanistan during the war — he replied, “I guess we can agree to disagree.”
No, we can’t. I don’t agree at all. In fact, I protest.
My wife and I got to Ogden Slip about an hour early and took a waterside table at a restaurant called Pinched. We enjoyed cold beverages and a quite good homemade hummus while speculating on the name, “Pinched.” Located on stolen Native American land? Something about tweaked cheeks? Both seemed improbable. Rather than guess or imagine, I slid over and asked the owner, who explained that they are a Mediterranean place with a pinch of six different cuisines. We went back for dinner after the cruise, which went great. Turns out, I had worried for nothing. There’s a lot of that going around.