you to Tell Me What Happened, the podcast that
features folks from all walks of life telling
us one childhood story and how that story impacted
who they are today. I'm your host, Jay Rehack,
and like you, I've had my share of childhood
experiences, some of them positive, some of them
not so great. But I'd like to think that what's
ever happened to me in my childhood has made
me a better person. Tell Me What Happened is
sponsored by Sidelining Publishing. Publishers
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So check your phones and download the app. All
right. Today I have as my guest, an old friend
of mine, a good friend of mine, Marty Pick. Marty
is a retiree. He retired back in 2004. But prior
to that, he had a succession of jobs. He was
at Hull House as the program director for kids
and teens. He was a daycare social worker and
a daycare director. He finished up his career
as a social worker for the Chicago Department
of Aging. Welcome to the show, Marty. Thank you,
Jay. Marty, are you ready to tell your story?
I'm ready to launch and jump right in. All right.
Well, listen, Marty, I'm going to get out of
the way. I'm going to let you tell your story.
When you're done, I'm going to ask you absolutely
one question. And that question is this. How
do you think that what happened to you as a child
impacted who you are today? All right, so take
it away, Marty. OK, thank you, Jay. In the summer
of 1952, my friend Howard and I were preparing
to winter our second semester of eighth grade
in September. We were students at the Robert
Emmett School. on Madison and Central Avenue
on the west side of Chicago. Howard had just
turned 13 and I was still 12. We were both serious
newspaper readers and realized that the Democratic
convention would be in Chicago. We had to go.
The headquarters for the candidates was the Conrad
Hilton hotel where 16 years later I would be
screaming dump the hump and the whole world is
watching. An event was occurring which would
revolutionize our summer. The normal summer activity
was to get to the Emmett School playground as
early as possible and wait for enough guys to
show up so we could play softball. It was important
to be early because there was one bench in Wright
Center Field for two or three located under the
scraggly little tree that somehow grew in the
gravel of our playground. The bench was usually
off limits for all but eighth graders, except
for the absolute best athletes in our class since
when we were in seventh grade, like Steve Harris
and Marty Harris, not related. And now we were
eighth graders, but the convention loomed large.
The best way for us to get downtown to the Hilton
was probably the Harrison Street streetcar. even
though we had a lot of ways to get downtown from
the west side. All of our major streets had buses.
We had two streetcars, the green Hornet on Madison
Street and the red something or other on Harrison
Street, which was pretty interesting because
it had sort of an open part to it, kind of like
the cable cars in San Francisco. So we got a
kick out of riding the red Harrison Street streetcar.
which fortuitously brought us straight to the
Hilton. Every candidate had a hospitality room,
stocked with pop and food. Seeing all that made
our eyes light up. Howard and I wandered into
every room and ate and drank in every one of
them. There were four main candidates. Our governor,
Adlai Stevenson, the governor of New York, Avril
Harriman, the senator from Tennessee, and Senator
from Georgia, Richard Russell. Howard and I were
very much in demand. We all wanted supporters,
supporters actually, that means anybody who was
willing to walk around on Michigan Avenue in
the sun and carry a banner. Howard and I were
fresh young legs and good at screaming how much
we loved the candidate we were marching for at
the time. We remember that for Avril Harriman,
there was a song we were singing as we marched
on Michigan Avenue. H -A -R -R -I -M -A -N spells
Harriman. Well, I forget the rest of the song,
but as you can, your wife might know it, it goes
on and on. We were given soft pills for our labors
because it was a 90 degree day in the sun. on
Michigan Avenue, but we both decided against
taking salt pills because we had never seen them
before and at 12 we were not in a habit of taking
pills anyway. At the end of the day, as the politicians
decamped to go to the International Amphitheater,
now demolished, where the convention was being
held, Howard and I collapsed into a couch in
the lobby of the Hilton. As we sat there exhausted,
An aide to Senator Kefauver approached Howard
and asked him to get the senator's coat. She
actually had badly miscalculated. Instead of
getting the battle scarred 13 year old, Howard,
she should have gotten the impressionable 12
year old, me, because I would have gladly gotten
the coat. Howard rudely answered her, tell the
senator to get his own coat. I thought that was
somewhat rude, but I didn't say anything to Howard
because He was my senior, of course. And so we
returned to the West Side, tired, bloated, and
now political experts. We resolved to go back
the next day, maybe be more selective on how
much pop and food we were consuming. I don't
remember any of our parents even asking where
we were. And we never really talked about being
at the Democratic Convention the entire day.
We just went, rode to a streetcar, came back
home, and back into normal life. But we did brag
to all of our friends about what we had been
doing. And somehow that week, a bunch of 12 -year
-olds, 12 and 13 -year -olds, invaded the convention
headquarters at the Hilton and marched around
Michigan Avenue. That's my story, and I'm sticking
to it. Loved it. I mean, that's a piece of history
right there, Marty. Absolute history. You are
part of history. I like your buddy saying, telling
Harriman to get his own coat or telling the aide
to get a coat. That's hilarious. That's how we're
treated. And he's still like that. So what motivated
you to go down there? Was it the idea that you
get free stuff or you just had something to do?
We had no idea there'd be free stuff. We didn't
know what was going to happen. You know, we were
12 years old. We've seen the paper. Hey, the
Democratic Convention is going to be in Chicago
at the Hilton. We're like, hey, we have to be
there. We got to see what's happening. I love
it. We knew it was free. That's all we knew.
But we did kind of follow politics then, you
know, we would, we would read the papers and,
you know, we had a We were in eighth grade. We
had a pretty good idea of what was going on.
So that's my follow -up question to you, Marty.
And that is this, how do you think that childhood
experience going down there to the convention,
how do you think that's impacted you as an adult?
Does it make you more political or something
else? I think it has. You know, I think it has
made us more political. For one thing, we realized
politics is I don't want to say, I want to say
it's a game. On the other hand, it's a serious
game. And you read about these people in the
newspaper. Esses Kefauver was quite well known.
He was running hearings on organized crime. So
he was on television all the time. And I remember
my parents always watching those hearings that
Kefauver was running. But on the other hand,
you would see that It was funny, it was a matter
of life and death for some people and for other
people it was just kind of a convenience. I'll
work for this guy, I'll work for this guy, I'll
work for this guy, I'll work for this guy. Makes
no difference. That's the camp we were in at
the time. We'll work, we'll hang around, work
for anybody who's gonna give us some pop and
feed us, even though we were pretty much supporters
of Governor Stevenson. But it gave us a look
into politics that we would not have had. at
the age of 12, had we not gone to that convention.
All right. Well, listen, I usually don't ask
follow up questions beyond that. You've answered
the question beautifully. But I do have to ask
you, when the convention rolled around back to
1968, were you there in 68 or were you by then
someplace else? Yes, I was someplace else, but
still at the Hilton, but not inside the Hilton.
I was outside of the Hilton with thousands of
other people. And you might've seen this on the
newsreels. There we were screaming, the whole
world is watching and dump the hump. We thought
that Hubert Humphrey was inside of Hilton. And
of course he was, looked like he was going to
get the Democratic nomination, which he did.
And we were not happy about the Vietnam War.
You jumped all the way to 1968. The Democratic
convention in 1956 was in Chicago. So we went
to that one too. By that time we were 16. Marty,
I did not know that. You just taught me something,
man. I'm telling you, I didn't realize, but that's
fantastic. That's great. So were you at 56 as
well? Yeah, yeah, sure. We were in high school
then. More food and pop? More food and pop. I
don't remember the 1956 convention as well as
I do our initial gathering in 1952. But I, I
know we were battle -hardened veterans in 1956,
you know, we were not exactly the same fresh
young legs that we were in 52. That's excellent.
And you said you're still hanging out with, with
Howard. Are you still friends with Howard? Still
friends with Howard. I'll see him in a couple
of days. We have our, uh, we all graduated from
Emmett school together, Robert Emmett in 1953.
And we're still playing poker once a month, a
whole bunch of 82 and 83 year olds. I love it,
man. I really do. That's deep. That really is.
I mean, the friendship is deep. And I think that
the political impact of the impact of that 1952
convention still reverberates to this day. I
think that's, that's impressive. I know you weren't
around then, but it was an amazing convention.
I think that one might've gone until three o
'clock in the morning or something. I mean, they
kept calling. the various states, what their
vote totals were. And so it took a while for
Stevenson to get enough votes to actually be
the nominee. I wasn't around at that time, although
I do remember the story that they tell about
Adlai Stevenson where somebody yelled out to
him. He said, Mr. Stevenson, you have the vote
of every intelligent American. And he said, I'm
sorry, sir, that won't be enough. He was right.
This show is not about politics, so I'm going
to leave it at that. I want to thank you for
being on the show, Marty. Well, thanks, Jay.
My day is set. I'll be listening to other people's
stories all day today. All right. Beautiful.
That's great. And thanks for the opportunity.
All right. Well, that's our show. I'd like to
thank my guest, Marty Pink. I'd also like to
thank our sponsors. Sidelining Publishing, publishers
of quality books, and LaughSaver .com. Remember
to visit LaughSaver .com and get ready for the
app that's coming out in May. So I'm going to
end this show, as I often do, with Susan Saldor's
classic, I've Got Peace in My Fingers. So until
next time, this is Jay Rehack. asking you all
to please stay safe out there and try not to
hurt anybody. Peace, peace in my fingers I'm
gonna shake hands with you I've got words, words,
words in my head Watch what I can do I've got
words, words, words in my head I'm gonna talk
things over with you I've got words, words, words
in my head Watch what I can do I've got words,
words, words in my head I'm gonna talk things
over with you I've got love, love, love in my
heart Watch what I can do I've got love, love,
love in my heart I'm gonna give some to you I've
got love, love, love in my heart Watch what I
can do I've got love, love, love in my heart
I'm gonna give some to you I've got peace, peace,
peace in my fingers Words, words, words in my
head I've got love, love, love in my heart I'm
gonna give some to you