A Father's Flagpole

I was born in Garfield Park Hospital in Chicago.  My brother Shawn was too, and so was one of my brother's that couldn't stay with us.

Don't look for it, the hospital is gone now.

When they were tearing it down Dad drove by one day.  He noticed that they had not removed the flagpole yet.  He approached one of the workers, the one with the bulldozer.

"I'll give you $50 bucks to knock that flagpole down and if you deliver it to my house I'll give you another $50."

The guy agreed and took Dad's money.  He hit the pole with the bulldozer and knocked it over.  Then he moved to the other side and pushed it again the other way until it snapped at the base.

Dad left and didn't hear from the guy for a couple of weeks.  Finally one day there was a ring at the doorbell.

When Dad answered the door there was a man standing on the porch and there was a truck parked at the curb.  There was a 40 foot pole sticking out the front and back of the truck.

"Where do you want it?"

Dad asked him to drop it in the front yard.  He did and never collected the rest of the money.

Dad planted that pole in the front yard and it is standing in front of my brother Shawn's house to this day.

From Garfield Park to Kostner Avenue