I was eight years old when Richard J. Daley passed away on a cold Tuesday. I was in Kelly Farrey's station wagon riding home from Brownies when Mrs. Farrey told us that Mayor Daley had died. I remember being sad. And how I just knew at once the moment was significant.
It would be years before I would understand that significance, and the scope of Chicago politics. Bilandic and Byrne, Vrdolyak and Epton and Washington. The Council Wars. The Machine.
This past week, I knew it was big. The entire newsroom stopped to listen to the radio as Richard M. announced he would not run for re-election this spring. Surreal and significant. Again.
He was my first assignment as a Sun-Times photographer.
I have never tired of seeing him in action. The happy, cat-who-ate-a-canary Mayor. The red-faced, sputtering Mayor. The guy who is Chicago.
It should be an interesting few months here in the greatest city in the world. Not that it isn't always. Politics keep the paper in business. I like the politics.
Mayor Daley has always kept it interesting. A regular news assignment takes on a sometimes strange and wonderful appeal with him in charge.
Being in his company always made me feel like I was still a Chicagoan, long after I moved to the 'burbs. Like most everyone else, I expected he would be in office until he ceased to exist, just like his dad.
My days might just be a little less interesting without his regular appearance in them. I appreciate what he brought to the city and even more so what he brought to my camera.
Yes, indeed. I will miss the guy.
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