The Carnival

Excerpted from Rust Belt Chicago: An Anthology, coming in August from Belt Publishing. By Paul Dailing When I was a kid, [...]

2017-08-01T11:26:02-04:00August 1, 2017|

The Urban Rural

When I have written about Roseland it is usually about tragedy and trauma as the result of generations of neglect. When I tell white people where I live, their response always begins with a recollection

2017-09-05T11:28:20-04:00June 27, 2017|

How to Win Reparations

Somewhere between his 12th and 13th hour inside a Chicago Police interrogation room, Lindsey Smith decided to confess to a murder he didn’t commit. The year was 1972. Multiple officers had pistol-whipped, stomped on and beaten him, again and again.

2018-11-27T15:58:52-05:00June 1, 2017|

Experiencing History With Dad

As a native Clevelander, my loathing of Chicago sports began somewhere in Chicagoland while visiting a traitorous childhood friend who adopted the Bulls after moving there in the early 1990s. By then, Michael Jordan had sunk "The Shot" to eliminate the Cleveland Cavaliers from the 1989 playoffs.

2016-11-18T10:01:02-05:00November 11, 2016|

Game Seven: It’s more than just two words

Game Seven of the World Series is more myth than reality. I would estimate that my friends and I, in games of wiffleball or whatever in our parents’ backyards on Cleveland’s suburban west side, probably played in "Game Seven of the World Series" maybe fifty more times than the event has taken place in the history of Major League Baseball. (For the record, this year’s is just the thirty-seventh.)

2016-11-03T22:49:05-04:00November 2, 2016|