Literary+Luminary+Week+3

- I began spending several hours a week with those children and their parents. The mothers were all in their late teens or early twenties; most had spent their live in altgeld, raised by teenage mothers themselves. They spoke without self consciousness about pregnancy at fourteen or fifteen, the dropping out of school, the tenuous links to the fathers who slipped in and out of their lives. They told me see the social worker, waiting at the currency exchange to cash their welfare checks, waiting for the bus that would take the to the nearest supermarket, five miles away, just to buy diapers on sale. - The trap was laid and mr.anderson’s eyes met mine. A cover up would generate as much publicity as the asbestos, I had told myself. Publicity would make my job easier. And yet, as I watched mr. Anderson shift around in his seat, trying to take measure of the situation there was a part of me that wanted to warn him off.

a week passed. sadie called mr. anderson's office; she was told that the results would take another week to produce. two weeks passed, and sadie's calls went unreturned. we tried to reach mrs. reece, then the CHA district manager, then sent a letter to the executive director of the CHA with a copy to the mayor's office. no response.

another fall, another winter. i had recovered from the disappointments of the asbestos campaign, developed other issues and found other leaders. johnnie's presence had helped relieve my workload, and our budget was stable; what i'd lost in youthful enthusiasm i made up for in experience. and in fact, it may have been that growing familiarity with the landscape, the counsel of time, that game me the sense that something different was going on with the children of crossed a blind and ugly corner turned.