When I scan this, I'm gonna paint the fire, the blood and  Oannablue 's feathered hide.

So yeah, I was jazzed for this and it was just a PowerPoint. The documents were fun! A Franco-Prussian War veteran wrote "What I saw in five months of the war I could tell in one night; what I saw in this one night I could tell for a lifetime." It's just... terrifyingly heavy stuff. My dad's friend a Chicago historian just had a big Smithsonian article about the fire, full of anecdotes. And apparently on or near the site of the Newberry was the only wooden mansion to survive the fire, they'd covered the house in wet sheets and used cider when the waterworks were burned.

My sister went to Jones, and actually did overlap with Chance the Rapper's notorious tenure therein. The Starbucks in question is on the northeast corner of Harrison and Dearborn. (Come to the Printer's Row Book Fair, guys. It's worth it.) Underground Railroad Stop. Chicago is full of places like that. I hate to disappoint the tourists, but the site of the St. Valentine's day massacre is now the parking lot of an old folks' home. The bullet-pocked wall is in Las Vegas, I've seen it.

There will be other Elixirs. Besides, we all come for that one tenor aria that I mangle the quote to read "a furtive tear rolls down my cheek."

The lady was about sixty, she could move and speak, so that's good. Better skull than neck. I gave a paper towel to mop up the blood, moved a roadblock, treated a bystander in shock, and got to actually yell in real life "Is there a doctor in the house?!" I was all professional, and then left, and just all the emotions fell on me at once. We wish we could do more. I'm repeating what I did to be sure it was enough. 911 doesn't need ten people calling for one event.

"Served Tea In The River" could be an album title. Yeah, I got nothing. Their jobs ran Society Maid -> Stockyards night watchman -> Stockyards clerk and real estate speculator -> Housewife -> NYT Bestselling author -> Whiny furry comics artist. You should see it through my seanathair's side, there's just empty spaces where an autistic only child never talked about his family much.
From now on, ludicrous demands by employers should be called "serve tea in the river." Let's play! Mawster and servahnt!