Uptown Chicago History

Bank Files Foreclosure on Historic Sheridan Plaza Hotel

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 01:59:00 +0000

"(Crain’s) — A Dallas bank known for buying distressed loans is seeking to foreclose on an $8.2-million mortgage on a historic former hotel near Wrigley Field, where during the 1940s many Chicago Cubs lived during the baseball season..." Complete article can be found here.

A free PDF download of a 1921 article featuring this hotel and other work by architect Walter W. Ahlschlager, with many historic images, can be found here.

For more articles and images on the Sheridan Plaza Hotel found on this site, go here.

Uptown Film Locations Featured in Tribune Article

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Fri, 03 Jul 2009 00:27:00 +0000

"Sure, Johnny Depp looks dashing as John Dillinger. Christian Bale makes a mighty fine lawman. And no one will deny the delicious sex appeal of Marion Cotillard. But the real star of the movie "Public Enemies," which opened Wednesday in wide release, is the brawling, bustling and undeniably beautiful city of Chicago..."

The Chicago Tribune has an article on Public Enemies, and makes mention of many sites used for the filming, including the Aragon Ballroom and the Bridgeview Bank Building. You can read it here.

Argmore Building on Argyle at Kenmore

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 03:22:00 +0000

DSC00262
Originally uploaded by BWChicago

You've probably walked past it before, but did you know the Argmore building was once a theatre? Here is the info from CinemaTreatures.org:

"The Argmore was opened in 1913, and two years later, was acquired from its original independent operator by the Alfred Hamburbger circuit. It was located... near the intersection of Argyle Street and Kenmore Avenue, hence the theater's name. In 1922, the Gumbiner Brothers took over operation of the Argmore. Acquired by the Essaness circuit in the 30s, it continued to be operated by that chain until closing in the early 1950s."

The Argmore was later converted to retail use. It currently houses La Patisserie P, Foremost Liquors, and other businesses. Click on image for larger view at Flickr.

The Chateau, a Reader Writes in With Additional Details

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Sat, 27 Jun 2009 22:20:00 +0000

Editor's Note: Alan left these comments to an earlier post on The Chateau. We felt it deserved a post of its own. Thank you so much, Alan, for sharing your research with us!

I grew up near here and still pass frequently so was interested in this comparison btw the current Chateau and the former one (of which I was unaware until your postcard post.) I did some follow-up research and found a number of articles and ads in the Chicago Tribune archives.

The old Chateau’s address was 819 Sheridan and it was built in about 1907. The owner, Albert Fuchs, became quite the real estate baron and was featured in numerous articles in the Trib, starting in 1892. He owned greenhouses in the area and started as a florist, lived at 1149 Sheridan, appeared in debtor's court, was accused by his musician wife of forcing her to pose with other women and she sought “separate maintenance” in court, sued a Congressman for rent money, got into tiffs over the flag and defended German officers behavior during WW1, had to endure his son changing his last name to "Fox" (less Germanic), had other real estate dealings on Bittersweet and downtown, moved to California in 1927, offered all his wealth to cancer research upon his wife's death in 1928, was arrested in Santa Monica to face morals charges in 1934, was acquitted and was “penniless” although he lived in mansion. I dug a bit into the LA Times archives to find out what ultimately happened to him, but no luck without paying.

From a Trib article on 10/11/22, the old Chateau was to be demolished to make way for a new (current) hotel which was to be called The Broadway, to be built in 3 sections and include a 5,000 seat theater. But a subsequent 1927 article refers to Fuchs leasing his holdings of The Broadway Hotel, the Chateau apartments and a 1,600 seat theater (that also contained a bowling alley and "bachelor apts") to a syndicate when he moved to California. So apparently he built the hotel but left the courtyard apartments, or at least part of them. Also, it looks like the courtyard was there in the 1962 historic aerial, so perhaps the Chateau was built adjacent to them and then they were eventually torn down.

Regarding the Chateau Theater, a 1930 article gave the theater's address as 3810 Broadway. Apparently Fuchs owned the entire block to Grace. There is a good article on Cinema Treasures about the Chateau, later called Vogue, Theater (see http://cinematreasures.org/theater/4504/).

Two of the Dillinger gang’s girfriends, Pat Cherrington and Opal Long, lived at The Chateau and were arrested there on June 2, 1934.

Alan

The Piper Came to Our Town, A Folklore Collection by a Local Author

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 02:38:00 +0000

Joanne, your blog host at Uptown Chicago History, has just released a new book of folklore and mythology that is all about bagpipes and pipers!

Barnes and Noble and Amazon are the first of the major booksellers to have The Piper Came to Our Town listed.

You can learn more about the book by visiting Bagpipe Folklore, Legends, and Fairy Tales. There you will find vintage photos, engravings, and other images of bagpipes and pipers from around the world, as well as stories, legends, and true-life tales related to piping.

Lunt at Ashland, Rogers Park, Chicago

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 08:46:00 +0000

This one is a little further afield than what we usually cover, but unlike many Childs real picture postcards, this one features people, breathing life into a vintage scene. Click to see the larger version.

Etching of Uptown Baptist Church, 1986

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 05:18:00 +0000

An etching by Sister Rose Marie Conway showing Uptown Baptist Church, circa 1986. It is currently available here. Her bio, as found on the Sinsinawa Dominicans Web site, reads:

Sister Rose Marie finds her art, her life, and her work constantly overlapping. She makes drawings, and her drawings grew into prints. “I have come to define myself as an artist” said Sister Rose Marie. “I’ve grown into this definition by claiming my right to make art, by making art, and by realizing that this engaging activity is fulfilling for me. I think of artmaking as a spiritual act, a centering process, and a healing occupation.”

Aragon Ballroom Menu Cover, circa 1930s

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 06:57:00 +0000

Love how the smoke from her cigarette forms the word "Aragon."

Vintage View of Andersonville, Clark at Foster, Chicago

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 18:24:00 +0000

1950s view of Clark Street looking north from Foster Avenue, Chicago.

Young Dancers at Honolulu Harry's, 804 Wilson, Uptown Chicago

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 04:13:00 +0000

An incredible collection of memorabilia from Honolulu Harry's, once located at 804 Wilson in the Uptown neighborhood, can be found at TikiRoom.com.

Honolulu Harry's Waikiki 804 Wilson, Uptown Chicago

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 04:06:00 +0000

See also Beach View Garden, once at the same address.

The location today:

View Larger Map

Sheridan From Sunnyside, Uptown, Chicago

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Sat, 06 Jun 2009 02:28:00 +0000

This stretch of Sheridan Road certainly has changed!

View Larger Map

While we don't have an exact date for this image, it is prior to the construction of the hotel at Sheridan and Agatite.

Beach View Garden, 804 Wilson, Uptown, Chicago

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 04:15:00 +0000

This looks like it was housed in the fabulous terra cotta building that was demolished, like so many of Uptown's buildings, long ago:

For a modern view of this same corner, go here.

The Chateau, Sheridan and Clarendon, Chicago

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 05:16:00 +0000

One of Chicago's largest high class and most unique apartment houses, 1150 feet front, with lagoon, tennis courts, conservatory, etc. Circa 1911.

1950s Montrose Harbor, Chicago

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 05:14:00 +0000

I think this vintage postcard image is from the 1950s.

Rapp & Rapp's Corn Palace

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Sat, 30 May 2009 08:41:00 +0000

Your blog hosts were road trippin' this week, all the way out to South Dakota. Along the way, we stopped at the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota. Fans of the Uptown Theatre (as well as the Chicago Theatre downtown) might be interested to know that this strange little building was also designed by architects Rapp & Rapp. The exterior of the building sports murals made entirely of grain and corn; they're redesigned and replaced each year. According to the official Web site, there are 13 different colors of corn used in the murals.

Here's an early view of the building:

What's your favorite roadside attraction?

Memories of Working in the Chicago Cubs Clubhouse, Wrigley Field, Summer of 1954

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Fri, 15 May 2009 03:31:00 +0000

Editor's Note: The following post is by Joe Ragont, who shared his memories of Uptown with us a few weeks ago. If you have memories of your own you would like to share, write us at blog@compassrose.com. Thanks again for sharing, Joe!

When I was fifteen, I spent the best summer of my young life working in the Chicago Cubs clubhouse.

Each day I arrived, eagerly ready to work on whatever assignments the equipment manager, Yosh, would give me. Yosh began his career as a batboy in the early thirties and faithfully worked year after year in the Cub organization. Although the Cubs didn’t have a good year in
1954, I certainly did. I was in my glory, being around my heroes, spending time in the dugout during the game and even filling the role of batboy when the opportunity presented itself.

I shared my duties with another lad and would get there early and stay late, especially on doubleheader days. We made sure there were fresh uniforms in each player’s locker and their spikes were shined (the shoes were all black back then). Before the game we would run errands for the players, getting them hot dogs and sandwiches, mailing letters, etc. In those days the players paid for their own equipment and food. No big buffets provided by management and no equipment supplied by sporting goods companies.

Each morning, before the park opened, the pitchers would take batting practice. This gave us a chance to go out and shag fly balls in the outfield. Pitchers, for the most part, are pretty poor hitters which is why, I’m sure, they took BP before any fans got there. But for us, it was a great time of playing ball in Wrigley Field.

The clubhouse was a great place to be when the team won. The place rocked with laughter and jokes as everyone celebrated. However, after a loss the scene was much different. Players got dressed quickly, said very little and used an alternative exit, mostly to avoid the press.

Win or lose, I wouldn’t trade that summer for anything. Being with stars like Ernie Banks, Bob Rush, Hank Sauer and manager Stan Hack sure beat stocking shelves at the local A & P.

Rainbo Gardens Ad, Republican National Convention Program, 1920

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Mon, 11 May 2009 05:58:00 +0000

After attending the daily sessions of the convention the question will arise: Where shall we spend the evening? We therefore suggest that you spend some of your time with us, where the best meals are served at moderate prices, with music pleasant and popular, together with dancing if you like. The atmosphere and surroundings of our place are the environments of comfort, pleasure, refinement and a personal attention seldom found outside your own home.

While away from your home, wile away a few leisure moments, where one visit will mean your frequent attendance. We are within a half hour of your hotel, and convention hall. Clark street cars take you direct to our door and a taxicab affords you a drive thru Lincoln Park and Sheridan Drive, which leads to us

Ask any Chicago resident about
Mann & Jackson's Rainbo Gardens!

Fatima Cigarettes Ad, Edgewater Beach Hotel

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Mon, 11 May 2009 05:37:00 +0000

A 1920 advertisement from The University of Chicago Magazine or Fatima Cigarettes, with mention of the Edgewater Beach Hotel.

Next Stop: Wilson Avenue! From "The Breath of Scandal"

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Sat, 09 May 2009 07:55:00 +0000

This excerpt from the 1922 novel The Breath of Scandal by Edwin Balmer is a bit lengthy, but it provides an excellent description of the Uptown area as it once was, when Wilson Avenue was "a country road with patches of woods and wide, meadowy vacant lots." It is told from the perspective of a "privileged" girl and, it seems, even then, people were bemoaning the changes to the neighborhood, when the area surrounding Wilson Avenue was "being ruined."

From Chapter XVI:

MARJORIE set out for Clearedge Street before nine the next morning and, determined to make this expedition wholly as a free agent, she left home on foot and took the elevated train cityward from Evanston. For five or six miles she gazed from the car window down upon pleasant, rectangular back yards with fresh, green grass and occasional spots of yellow crocus and with budding lilac and bridal wreath bushes set against the rear and sides of seven and eight and nine-room houses of brick and frame and stucco, with garages associated; and now and then there came into sight larger, and usually older, dwellings of ten or twelve rooms, with wider lawns and gardens.

Red and yellow and dun flat buildings loomed here and there; even in Evanston were blocks of apartments, but the flat did not prevail. Most of the Evanston apartments, and most of those in the northern fringe of Chicago, were of six rooms or larger, and they offered sufficient space physically to permit, if they could not be said to foster, an approximation of the "home" life which Marjorie considered normal. But soon, not only the green back yards and the lilac-girt houses disappeared, but also the six-room, six-flat semidetached structures ran into solid blocks of smaller, residential suites side by side in uniform strata. What back yards these buildings boasted were preempted by newly washed sheets, pillow cases and underwear and stockings flapping in the April breeze; for though the day was Thursday, these people honored the tradition of Monday wash day more in the breach than in the observance; and necessarily, as they were obliged to take turns — or paid persons for them took their turns — at the washtubs in the basements above which, seriatim, they dwelt.

"Wilson Avenue!" the guard called when the train next slowed and, in a minute, Marjorie was down on the street in the midst of the most ultra-modern and challenging, the most ominous or the most hopeful — according to your point of view — but at any rate, by far the most prophetic section of Chicago, and that one with which Marjorie Hale, by her birth and upbringing, was least equipped to cope.

Almost within her own memory — and well within the clear recollection of her mother — Wilson Avenue was a country road with patches of woods and wide, meadowy vacant lots, swampy in wet weather, where violets and strawberries, "cat-tails" and black-eyed Susans grew wild on the edges of the grass lawns surrounding the first, suburban homes of Sheridan Park. The old steam branch of the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul Railroad — a twelve-mile spur from the Chicago Union Station to Evanston — had small occasion to halt its commutation trains there. Neighboring to the south, and cityward, was the little suburban settlement of Buena Park, where the children of Eugene Field's verse were growing up and girding themselves for their redoubtable defense of the Waller lot. Old American families lived here, and where the trains stopped at Argyle Park and Edgewater, a few miles further out from the city and where Corinna Winfield had lived before she married Charles Hale, were other families of Massachusetts, Connecticut and New York State upbringing and tradition and, particularly, from such old Puritan towns as Salem. The impulse of the pioneer as well as the blood of the Puritan descended to them who built their separated, independent homes and preferred few neighbors and feared not the coming of children. In one house the caller would see the sword of a Sheridan cavalryman in its sheath on the wall; in the next, where the father had been too young to have ridden in the Shenandoah, the Harvard oar which he had pulled against Yale hung over the hall mantel. These people thought in terms of American families of English descent in Chicago and Boston and New York; it was the age when Mrs. Potter Palmer reigned in Chicago society and when to be received at the castellated Palmer mansion on Lake Shore Drive was the proof of position; when the Chicago newspapers boasted of triumphant marriages of Chicago girls to English noblemen and heralded that the leader of Chicago society was received at the English court and was entertained at English castles. This all supplied to girls like Corinna Winfield, on the fringe of Chicago "society," a perfectly definite and orderly scheme of social advancement, starting from where you were and progressing through acquaintanceship with older and more established families here, through older families in Newport and New York and on to England. She was simply following this scheme when she married Charles Hale, a young man not of superior social position but certain to be more successful than her own father and certain to be able, with her, to win higher place; and this was the scheme of life which consciously, or subconsciously, underlay every effort in Marjorie's upbringing and in accordance with which Corinna Hale had moved the family to Evanston. For, from her point of view, which she also made Marjorie's, the old section of suburban homes north and south of Wilson Avenue was being "ruined."

The trouble was that the immigrants crowding Chicago — the Italians, Bohemians, Swedes and Danes, Germans, Ruthenians, Croatians, Poles, Magyar, Irish, French, Jews — the vigorous, vital, enterprising peoples who a generation ago supplied you with servants, laborers, bootblacks and tradesmen and who kept themselves conveniently and picturesquely in foreign colonies, "slums" and ghettos, were forgetting their proper "place." For their children were growing up; and these new Americans felt small need for the old-world associations to which their fathers, feeling themselves at a disadvantage in a strange land, had clung, comforted by the sound of their native speech and encouraged by papers printed in the old language. These were the children who had learned American in the public schools and, for the most part, refused to speak their fathers' tongue; eagerly they fitted themselves for and boldly entered trades, businesses and professions never aspired to by their fathers; they succeeded, mixed again and met and married outside their own race and struck out for the American community which lay along the lake north of the city.

To accommodate them, an elevated railroad, with electric trains running at intervals of minutes, paralleled the rusty rails of the old suburban spur and, instead of slighting Wilson Avenue, it made a terminal in a meadow there; and upon the old American families, each in its separate home at intervals along the oak-wooded shore, the Chicago melting-pot began to pour. To the end of those elevated rails also traveled boys and girls and husbands and wives come to Chicago from Frankfort, Manistee and a hundred other little towns up the Michigan shore; from Lafayette, De Kalb, Ottumwa, Lincoln and LaCrosse and the thousand other little cities and villages of the surrounding States. These may actually predominate in the present population of Wilson Avenue but, in so far as their tradition is that of the American pioneer in his isolated, independent home, dark and quiet at an early hour of night, they have exchanged it for the more delightful customs of the new Americans, bred in the city, whose inherited instinct is a composite not of Anglo-Saxon frontier rigors but of continental reflexes brought from centuries lived in European walled towns. They built up the modern Wilson Avenue, — and by "Wilson Avenue" the Chicagoan means a wide district north and south, which the actual avenue bisects from the lake west, — making it the exaltation, not of the kitchen and the sitting room, but of the inn and the street; not of the sewing room and the meetinghouse, but of the shop and the theater.

Marjorie Hale could thrill to the gayness, the lilt and elan of such life when she met it in Paris on the Rue de Rivoli and the Boulevard des Italiens, in Brussels on Boulevard Adolph Max and when she found it in Milan, in Prague and Rome, The "continental" abroad pleased and exhilarated her; but here in Chicago, where people were so aptly learning the art of living in a city, it offended her; for her Chicago should be a sort of transplanted New England and these people, seizing on a section which satisfactorily had been progressing before, were transforming it into new almost-anything-else. They disregarded all her conceptions of social advancement; they not only failed to understand the scheme to which she had been born, but they seemed even to be unaware of its existence in their absorption in ends and aims of their own toward which they were striving by rules they were making for themselves.

Of course, Marjorie did not think this out; it reached her through feelings as she responded, in spite of herself, to the allure and exuberance of the smart display in the shop windows, to the enlivenment of a splendid theater front and the luxuriance of a tea room which would have been the envy of her Rumpelmeyer's of the Rue de Rivoli. They all were new as, in that neighborhood where twenty-five years have heaped values of millions upon the meadows of violets and black-eyed Susans, everything is to-day's and to-morrow's creation. Nothing which was conspicuous either obviously possessed a past or — by imitation of old architecture — brooded on the past of other places. The people apparently brooded not at all on their pasts, whatever they might have been.

It was morning, and though these streets are not at their best early in the day, Marjorie was sensitive to the animation of the people passing her; and she was particularly unwilling to feel energized by them, especially by the girls and the women from nowhere that she knew and headed to nothing that she could discern. But too undeniably they possessed something which she and her own friends, who fitted into her scheme of things, had not; they displayed positive qualities which — to their minds, at least — not only compensated for whatever lacks she might find but which endowed them with a sensation of a certain advantage of her, as they noticed her. It irritated Marjorie that they recognized her instantly as different from themselves and, by a glance, could set her apart from them, — and not above them; not obviously below them, either. They seemed to Marjorie — these girls, living in flats and hotels and rented rooms, in restaurants and cafeterias, many of whom were on their way to work — to strike a sort of balance in their valuations of Marjorie and themselves, conceding to her traits they had not and conscious of their possession of an attribute she wanted...

Hotel Somerset Advertisement, Argyle and Sheridan, Uptown Chicago

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Sat, 09 May 2009 05:04:00 +0000

Here's a little more love for the Hotel Somerset this evening: a 1922 advertisement from Scribner's Magazine, volume LXXI, 1922. Text reads:

In Chicago's chief boulevard, near the lake, in the smart North Shore district, the luxurious new Somerset is the preferred abode of motor tourists and of others who seek highest class accommodations at moderate cost.

Kitchenette apartments (large and small) for families or single guests; also rooms, single or in suite, without kitchenettes; excellent restaurants, roof garden, solarium for parties and conventions. Spring and summer reservations now being received. For booklet and floor plans, address Hotel Somerset, Sheridan Road at Argyle, Chicago. S. W. Gerstner, Manager (formerly of French Lick Springs Hotel)

Chicago's North Shore is delightful in autumn!

Somerset Hotel, circa 1964

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Sat, 09 May 2009 03:05:00 +0000

And speaking of the Somerset, here's an image from the 1960s. It's currently available on eBay, item number 170329817768. I wonder when those gorgeous apartment buildings beside it were torn down.

Somerset Hotel, S. N. Crowen, Architect, Uptown Chicago

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Fri, 08 May 2009 21:23:00 +0000

Special thanks to Tom Matthews for giving us the heads up on these great images of the Somerset Hotel, located at Argyle and Sheridan. (Now Somerset Place.) They are from The Architectural Record, volume LI, 1922. The first thing you're going to notice is the loss of all the terracotta elements that once graced the entrance. It broke our hearts to see it. Below the first image, we've pasted in the same view from today, as taken by Google Street Views. (If the image doesn't show up, go to Google directly.

View Larger Map

The Somerset was designed by S. N. Crowen. Click on the links below the article to see more great images of this gorgeous Uptown building.

Uptown at Lawrence and Broadway w/ Uptown Theatre, Goldblatts, 1964

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Wed, 06 May 2009 06:09:00 +0000

Thanks to one of our readers for pointing these out. Currently available on eBay are two vintage negatives of Uptown street scenes. Based on the release date of one of the movies on the marquee of the Uptown Theatre, these are from 1964. Go to eBay.com and search for items 170326795188 and 170326796034. The auctions end today.

Bugs Moran, the Sheridan Plaza Hotel, Buena Church, and the Green Mill: A Reader's Perspective

noreply@blogger.com (Green Fairy) — Sat, 02 May 2009 05:57:00 +0000

Editor's note: Thanks to Joe Ragont for sharing his memories of growing up in Uptown! He has kindly given his permission for us to post his recent e-mail to us.

I loved reading your blogs about Uptown. I was born at Ravenswood Hospital in 1939 and grew up in Uptown. In fact I lived at Montrose and Dayton (800 west) from birth until I got married in 1960.

My mother took me to Buena Church when I was four years old. I grew up going to Sunday school, DVBS (where I received Christ) Youth groups, etc. My wife and I were married there in 1960. Our four children were baptized there. I continued to teach Sunday school until we moved to the suburbs in 1969. Five years later we decided to attend Buena again. The minister, Dr. Larkin, asked me to be Director of Christian Education in 1974. We accomplished much the next year, but living so far away and working a full-time job proved too much and I had to
resign.

After the collapse of the building, my wife and I visited the rubble and just wept. Buena was and in many ways still is our church.

Incidentally your other blogs have also stirred great memories. Stewart School was where I went all eight years. And the Jesus People USA's headquarters at 937 Wilson Ave. was the very sight of my father's barber shop. I spent countless hours there after school and summers and
cleaned it on a weekly basis. Ironically, above the barber shop was a bookie joint, and next door was a strip joint called Backstage. As a youngster I used to amble out the back door of the shop and wonder what was going on in Backstage, where their back door was always open.

My father also owned the barber shop in the Sheridan Plaza Hotel in the late twenties and early thirties. Many of his "clients" were members of the Bugs Moran mob which had its headquarters at Lawrence and Broadway, across from the Green Mill and the Uptown Theater. After moving to the 937 Wilson shop, his clients became many Chicago Cubs and Chicago Bears who lived at the Sheridan Plaza and played just down Sheridan Road at Wrigley Field.

During the summer I used to go to neighborhood movie theaters just about every day. In addition to the large theaters like the Uptown and Riviera, there were the smaller Pantheon and Lakeside. On Saturdays I would venture to the tiny Mode, just south of Irving Park, which always showed two cowboy pictures, three cartoons and a serial.

I really appreciate your blogs which have brought back so many great memories!

Joe Ragont