Northern Illinoise: Tales of a Territory

By Dave Wischnowsky

Northern IlliNOISE

Tales of a Territory

Theres noise. And then, theres Northern IlliNOISE the sounds of which are unlike anything else that youll encounter.

Anywhere.

Take Dave Wischnowskys word for that. Because, from August 2002 to July 2005, the author of the popular Wisch List column for The Daily Times a newspaper located in the picturesque town of Ottawa in the heart of North Central Illinois did nothing but listen to those sounds.

And then wrote about every dang story he heard.

In Northern IlliNOISE: Tales of a Territory, follow Wischnowsky as he chronicled life and the people who live it in and around La Salle County in north central Illinois.

Featured in "Northern IlliNOISE" are 75 of the versatile Wischnowskys award-winning "Wisch List" columns, which cover any and every topic under the sun. From the inspirational to the silly, from the hapless Chicago Cubs to the University of Illinois rollicking basketball program, to the rich history and geography of Northern Illinois, it can all be found along with much, much more in "Northern IlliNOISE."

Included among the books scads of terrific tales is the powerful legend of former Ottawa Township High School student Mark Wiebe, a young man diagnosed shortly after birth with the debilitating disease Spinal Muscular Atrophy, which left him for the most part paralyzed and his body weighing only 40 pounds.

In spite of his limitations, however, nothing could keep the wheelchair-bound, but utterly-irrepressible Mark and his beloved marbles from carrying more weight in the hearts of others than an entire army of able-bodied men. Marks amazing spirit and story touched thousands both before and after his death at the age of 17 in June 2003.

Through "Northern IlliNOISE," youre also invited to follow Wischnowsky, a former award-winning sports writer, as he followed his beloved Chicago Cubs on a wild, wacky, funny and (big surprise) ultimately fruitless cross-country journey through the 2003 and 04 Major League Baseball seasons.

From Chicago to Miami to Atlanta to Milwaukee to Denver ... to Despair, Wischnowsky was there for the Cubs entire comitragic playoff run of 2003. And then back again for their high hopes and, of course, ultimate heartbreak during the wild summer of 2004.

In addition to Wischnowskys array of "Wisch List" columns, "Northern IlliNOISE" also includes the remarkable tale of "Pilgrim George," a man with a gray, waistlong beard, denim robe and wooden staff who, for the past 34 years, has been walking the earth on a neverending pilgrimage in the name of Jesus Christ.

An astounding story of faith, determination and courage, Pilgrim George who has no job, no money, no family and no home relies on the goodwill of others and the grace of God each day as he fulfills the calling he said he received from the Lord more than three decades ago.

The 29-year-old Wischnowsky is the winner of a total of 18 editorial awards from 2001-05, including six first-places and one Top 10 National.

Through his "Wisch List" columns and now through "Northern IlliNOISE" Wischnowsky has touched lives, moved hearts, and tickled funny bones with a style and passion for writing unlike anything youll find elsewhere.

So, cmon ... feel the NOISE.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 12, 2004
• ISBN: 9781462803156

Dave Wischnowsky

DAVE WISCHNOWSKY, a 1998 graduate of the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign with a degree in print journalism, is the features editor and general-interest columnist at The Daily Times in Ottawa, Ill. Formerly a sports writer, Wischnowsky, a native of Bourbonnais, Ill., is the winner of 16 national, regional and editorial awards since 2001. His weekly column for the Daily Times, called the “Wisch List,” focuses on the people, the places, the things — the who-knows-what — of Ottawa, La Salle County, and beyond. “Northern IlliNOISE: Tales of a Territory” is Wischnowsky’s first book.

Book preview

Copyright © 2004 by Dave Wischnowsky.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

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Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1

STATION BREAK: Mark Wiebe

Chapter 2

STATION BREAK: Pilgrim George

Chapter 3

STATION BREAK:

Chapter 4

STATION BREAK:

Chapter 5

SIGNING OFF: Small World

Write to live.

Live to write.

Introduction

Come on, feel the ’NOISE

If nothing else, I am an Illinois boy.

Born (in tiny Clifton) and raised (in bigger Bourbonnais). Bred (on Chicago Cubs baseball) and fed (a steady diet of disappointment. Naturally).

Through thick (winter coats) and thin (wallets, as a college student). In sickness (again, Cubs fan) and in health (The Michael Jordan Era).

For richer or poorer. For better or for worse. And so on, and so on . . .

’Til death do us part.

(Which, hopefully, won’t be for quite some time.)

Now, some people will try and tell you that Illinois is a boring state. That it’s too flat. Has too many cornfields. Not enough scenery.

Well, personally, I like the way the Land of Lincoln looks. Wouldn’t change a thing. After all, the Prairie State just wouldn’t feel right with a chain of mountains running down the middle of it. Or if it had palm trees popping up alongside the road.

I mean, it’s Illinois.

It’s no-nonsense. It’s the Midwest. The heart of the country.

And Illinois, it’s my country.

It’s where I grew up. It’s where I went to college (at the University of Illinois). It’s where I work, live and play.

And it’s what I write about.

Illinois’ people. Its places. Its stories.

Its oh-so-many stories.

From the Windy City (Chicago) to the Quad Cities (Rock Island, Moline) to the Twin Cities (Champaign-Urbana or Bloomington-Normal, take your pick), Illinois has terrific tales tucked in every nook and cranny of its terrain.

From the Capital City (Springfield) to the Steel City (Joliet) to Future City (check a map, it’s there) to all the cities in between, I’ve learned over the past several years that these stories about people—about life—are just waiting to be found.

You only need to take the time to, you know, find them.

Which is what I try to do every day.

After all, as a newspaper columnist with a passion for people, it’s my job.

And one that keeps me hopping. So much so that, of all the aforementioned cities, I don’t think any of them could have kept me busier during the past six years than the one I live in right now.

The Friendly City.

Otherwise known as Ottawa.

(Remember, we’re talking Illinois, not Canada.)

My home turf since I graduated from college in the summer of 1998, Ottawa—a town of 18,300 souls nestled on a plush plot of land where the Fox River flows into the Illinois—is the seat of sprawling La Salle County in the heart of North Central Illinois.

It’s an area that’s rife with history (Abraham Lincoln, for example, held the first of his famous debates with Stephen A. Douglas in Ottawa’s Washington Park in 1858. Bronze statues of the pair stand there today). It’s an area that’s bursting with beauty (scenic Starved Rock State Park lies inside La Salle County’s borders). And it’s an area that, you might be surprised to learn, is the biggest in the state—both in terms of the county’s land mass and the ratio of great stories per capita.

An atlas can prove the former. And I can vouch for the latter.

Because, since August of 2002—after spending my first four years in Ottawa as a sports and features writer—I’ve penned more stories than the Brothers Grimm as the general-interest columnist for the city’s newspaper, The Daily Times.

Quite remarkably, in just over two years of writing my weekly column—called the Wisch List—I’ve been blessed to have unearthed enough terrific tales about the people of Northern Illinois to fill an entire book.

(Which would be this thing that you’re holding in your hands right now.)

For that, I thank my bosses, Daily Times General Manager Jim Malley and Managing Editor Lonny Cain, who gave me the opportunity to become a columnist, as well as the permission to reprint my stories—all of which first appeared in the pages of The Daily Times—in this book.

I thank my co-workers for helping provide me column ideas with their keen eyes and ears. I thank family for their constant support. And, I thank all of my wonderful readers, who funnel me a steady stream of news tips, feedback and warm regards.

I appreciate it all.

Lastly, I thank everyone that I’ve written about. If not for you entrusting me with your stories and allowing me the opportunity to share them with others, my column, this book—not to mention, a big part of my life—wouldn’t even exist.

And, as you read the pages of Northern IlliNOISE: Tales of a Territory—which contains more than 75 of my columns and stories that have each been buffed, shined and, in the case of many, expanded upon—I do hope for a few things.

I hope that you’ll be inspired as I was—and am—by the powerful stories of some of the amazing people that I’ve been fortunate enough to meet and write about.

I hope that you’ll laugh (or cry?) with me as I chronicle my cross-country chase of the Chicago Cubs and their championship dreams during 2003 and ’04. A chase that ended—big shocker—in futility, but was one heck of a ride.

I hope that you’ll be entertained, and maybe even enlightened, while reading about the unique personalities, offbeat ideas, and kind gestures of the people I’ve encountered.

And I hope that while reading these tales you’ll take a few moments to ponder the impact and significance that some of the individuals I’ve profiled have had on the lives of other people.

And, in turn, perhaps even yourself.

With that said, I swing the doors wide open, twist the dial to the sounds of Northern IlliNOISE, and invite you to wander into the world of the Wisch List.

If you’ve been here before, then welcome back. The terrain should be, oh, pretty familiar. And, if you haven’t, well, then I hope you soon feel at home.

So, go ahead, put your feet up, make yourself comfortable . . .

And come on in.

Dave Wischnowsky

October, 2004

Chapter 1

Only in Ottawa

There are other Ottawas, of course.

Ottawa, Kansas, for one. It’s a town located in the East Central part of The Sunflower State that has a population of 11,921, is home to a small Baptist school called Ottawa University, and lies—quite ironically—not far from a place named Peoria.

In Ohio, meanwhile, there is both an Ottawa (pop. 4,367) and an Ottawa Hills (pop. 4,564)—although, oddly enough, neither of them lies within the boundaries of Ottawa County.

In addition to the Buckeye State, Kansas, Oklahoma and Michigan also boast counties named after the Ottawa Indians, who originally lived along the Ottawa River in eastern Ontario and western Quebec before later matriculating south into the United States.

With the tribe’s origin in mind, naturally, there’s also Ottawa, Ontario.

The Canadian metropolis of more than 323,000 people is undoubtedly the most famous Ottawa of them all. And, as you’ll soon read, it’s also a place that many somehow manage to often confuse with its Illinois cousin.

So, yes, there are other Ottawas.

But, trust me on this, there’s only one Ottawa.

Because, nowhere else can there be another city—no matter the name, the location or the size—that is exactly like the one that rests at the confluence of the Fox and Illinois rivers in North Central Illinois.

If there is, I’d pay money to see it.

For the past six-plus years, I’ve lived alongside and written about the people of Ottawa, Ill.—aka The Friendly City, aka The River City, aka The Town of Two Rivers—and during that time, this journalist has come to the conclusion that Ottawa truly is one-of-a-kind.

No other town that I’ve come across—and I’ve visited a lot of them throughout this great country of ours—is as close-knit, as kind-hearted and as quirky as the one off of Exit 90 on Interstate 80.

Although it’s located within easy driving distance of almost every major population base in Illinois, Ottawa doesn’t try to be any of them. From Chicago to Champaign, Bloomington to Rockford, the Quad Cities to Peoria, Joliet to Springfield, each can be reached within a couple of hours or less.

However, Ottawa and its identity stand alone.

The town is its own man, if you will. It doesn’t attempt to be like any place else.

And, as a result, it isn’t.

Ottawa aspires only to be Ottawa. Which is exactly what makes the town so special. And, it’s one of the many things that I respect about the city and its people—along with its numerous points of interest, its passion for preserving the past and its peculiarities.

To wit, no town but Ottawa would be quite so offbeat as to continue an ordinance—into the 21st Century—that allows for the sale of alcohol on the north side of the Illinois River.

But bans it to the south.

No town but Ottawa would be chummy enough that, for the past three years, its citizens could stage a citywide football tailgating party that attracts huge crowds—even though it’s held more than 130 miles away on the campus of the University of Illinois.

And no town but Ottawa could so consistently produce the wacky ideas, the wonderful stories and the warm gestures of which you’re about to read.

Yes, all of the following could happen only in Ottawa.

I’m just glad I’ve been around to witness it.

Guest Who? Ottawa Online is one wacky world

The WISCH LIST

March 2, 2004

Is it me, or do people not see that this is for Ottawa, Illinois and not Ottawa, Ontario (Canada)?

—Posted by Andrea Lee,

City of Ottawa Online Guestbook

Of all the manners by which people swoop into Ottawa, the most interesting way isn’t on Interstate 80. It isn’t on Routes 6, 23 or 71. And it isn’t on any of the county’s backroads, or even the Fox and Illinois rivers.

Nope, it’s not on any of those thoroughfares.

It’s online.

From Lawrence, Kan., to Boston, Mass., Lagos, West Africa to Auckland, New Zealand, Atlanta, Ga. to Atlanta . . . Alabama (who knew?), just about every day it appears there’s somebody from somewhere far, far away popping their head in through Ottawa’s front door.

And making sure to leave their card.

Even if they don’t know exactly where it is they’re leaving it.

This is a very good/useful website! a girl named Ashley posted last month on the weird world that is the City of Ottawa’s Guestbook, located at the town’s official Web site (http://ottawa.il.us/). I was just looking for a website to finish my homework about Canada and I just got caught up with it all that I didn’t want to leave!

Ashley, according to the information included in her post, is from the city of Sudbury.

In Canada.

Here’s guessing she didn’t get an A.

Now, we all know the Internet is a big place, and it can be easy to get lost. But you’d be surprised at how much company Ashley has in her geographic ignorance among the posters on the guestbook. There are plenty of others who somehow, some way manage to leave blessings for the wrong Ottawa.

I have heard a lot about Canada’s Capital over one thousand times, John L. Sirmopoulos of Westford, Mass. posted in August of 2001. "The main reasons are the Centre Le Corel, the Ottawa Lynx of The International League (Triple A Baseball), Dan Aykroyd, Alanis Morrisette and the Senators of the National Hockey League.

"I’ve always dreamed of going to Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. However, I could not ever find the time to go. But, next year, my family and I will be going up there to explore the suburb of Kanata and to celebrate my twenty-eighth birthday. It would be a great Summer thing to do.

This is why I am taking this time to talk about Ottawa, Ontario, Canada!

That’s great, John—but you’re talking to the wrong Ottawa!

Since the city of Ottawa (that’s, Illinois) started up an online guestbook for visitors to its Web site six years ago (first post: Jan. 2, 1998), hundreds of people from all across the globe (Russia, Hungary, Italy, Korea and Saudi Arabia to name a few) have stumbled across it.

Given the option to leave as much—or as little—information along with their messages as they’d prefer, these cyber-tourists are also asked how they found Ottawa’s Web site. And among the options given by the city for answering are A Search Engine, Word of Mouth, and Blind Luck I Guess, along with the quite-peculiar A Better Question Is How Can I Leave?

Through the years, the guestbook has served as something of a de facto Town Hall (in 1999, some left messages about the Columbine shootings. In 2001, others wrote about 9/11). It has served as one big personal ad (some leave posts asking about long-lost relatives). And it has served as a scrapbook for memories (many who have since moved from Ottawa write about the joys of growing up here).

Unfortunately, this online community has its seedy side, as well. Of late, a number of obscene messages have sullied the guestbook. Like graffiti on the courthouse’s façade, it’s not the best way to represent Ottawa to outsiders, and it would be nice for someone at City Hall to get the guestbook cleaned up a bit.

Beyond all that, the guestbook is also home to a whole world of wacky. Here are a few examples . . .

I really love your web site. Keep it up. Guys uwa wu paw paw.

—Asaba Owerri, Atlanta (the Alabama one)

Uh, thanks . . . I guess?

I want to live in Ottawa,

—Jim Sinovich, Joliet

Well, come on over—it’s only 50 miles!

Good.

—Rajeev Saksena, New Dehli, India

Right back at ya, Raj.

This town looks like it knows how to party . . .

—Curtis Tucker, Glendale, Ariz.

You sir, are officially invited to Riverfest.

And, lastly:

"I was interested to find out about the city of Ottawa, Ill. I liked the history section very much. I myself live in the other Ottawa . . .

the Canadian one.

—Edward Cretul.

Finally, someone!

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The Big Chill

The WISCH LIST

Feb. 18, 2003

When it came to the most jumpin’ joints around during the 1940s and ’50s, you’d have been hard-pressed to find—not just in La Salle County, but the entire state of Illinois—any venue flashing more verve than Ottawa Township High School’s Kingman Gym.

Back in those days, when the Home of the Ottawa Pirates wasn’t playing host to an assortment of high school dances and functions—not to mention legendary coach Gil Love’s fabled OTHS basketball squads—it was busy serving as a showcase for a variety of national traveling acts.

The original Harlem Globetrotters, for one, once hit the Kingman hardwood during the 1946-47 school year. That same season, Ottawans also reveled in watching other black barnstorming basketball teams, such as the House of David, the Hawaiian—yes, Hawaiian—and the Kansas City All-Stars tangle at Kingman. Quite interestingly, in December of ’46—probably around the time that they traveled to Ottawa—the Kansas City Stars listed none other than Jesse Owens on their roster, meaning that the Olympic track-and-field legend might have shot hoops in The River City that year.

Doing shooting of an entirely differently sort in Kingman during the 1953-54 school year was the Singing Cowboy—old Gene Autry, himself—who galloped into the venerable gymnasium with his traveling rodeo for a live show.

As splendid as those spectacles were, though, there was not a one that left its mark quite like the time that Kingman Gym welcomed the unlikeliest guest of all.

The Ice Capades in Kingman, former Ottawa Township High School teacher and boys basketball coach Dean Riley recently said with a laugh. No one has mentioned that in 30 years.

Probably because the old gym is still trying to forget.

Sometime during the late 1950s—memories of exact dates have fuzzed in the decades since—a group of Ottawans conjured up the notion of bringing The Greatest Show on Ice to town. And, for many, the thought of the glamorous Ice Capades pirouetting their way into off-the-beaten-path Ottawa was simply a dream come true.

Oh, I was tickled, 73-year-old Earl Fribbs, a longtime fan of the Ice Capades, said about hearing that the show would make a local appearance. "I didn’t believe it, that’s for sure. They’d come to Joliet, Peoria, Chicago for shows.

But never to Ottawa.

Most likely because larger cities such as Chicago and Joliet had arenas with, you know, actual ice rinks in them. Ottawa, on the other hand, could offer only the floor of Kingman Gym.

The recently-renovated, gleaming hardwood floor of Kingman Gym.

Unswayed by that little technicality, OTHS—with assurance from the Ice Capades that all would go well—proceeded with organizing the event. The proper safeguards were taken as a special, waterproofed material was placed over the gym floor, and intermittent spraying and freezing continued until the spacious Kingman was fit for a penguin.

The crowds then came, the skaters whirled, danced and leapt barricades, and everyone acclaimed the performance.

They put on a good show, Fribbs said.

Those handing out the accolades included even the skeptics, because when the floor’s protective barrier was removed following the production, Kingman’s surface was just as shiningly beautiful as before.

Yes, everything had gone as smooth as ice.

Or not.

A couple of days after the event, disaster struck as Kingman’s floor began—and continued—to buckle and bend. When it finally ceased, over half of the recently-finished hardwood had warped to some degree.

That show ruined the darn floor, Riley said. "It buckled up so bad near the