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A New Love Begins
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This is the story of Donna Michels and Mike Hinko beginning their relationship. Donna compiled pieces of her writings to tell that story. Then she placed it in my cabinet for me to discover some day. One day I was searching through my cabinet for something unrelated and I came across a folder containing these pages - just like Donna had planned. It is her final gift to me. Adjacent to the telling of our story the excerpted pages contained writings about the lives of others. I have made redactions to the document so that the writings will not impact those lives. Donna wanted to share the story of Donna and Mike. And that's the story I want to share with you.
A Martin Amis Anecdote
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One of the stops on Martin Amis' "London Fields" publicity tour was Barbara's Bookstore in Chicago. My wife and I found ourselves fused into the tightly packed gathering and felt happy for the opportunity. The hushed crowd listened intently as Amis read aloud through curled lip. After the reading, we waited in line to have two copies of "London Fields" signed by the author: one for our bookshelf, one for my sister, Deb. As I stepped to the table, Amis asked to whom the book should be addressed. In a quiet voice I answered, "To Deb." Martin looked up quizzically asking, "Just Dub?" I answered affirmatively, thinking he had simply mispronounced my sister's name. He then said enthusiastically, "Dub! What a marvelous name," and proceeded to sign the book as such. Years later, while reading the newly released "The Information," I came upon the chapter in which Richard Tull is the guest on a Chicago radio program ...
Interviews With Dolores and Michael Hinko Sr, June 1991
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Daily Calumet Clipping: April 10 1956 Primary Election Results
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Michael Hinko Sr Photo Album: Open Message and Click on Link to Access Photo Album
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A Celebration
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"Every day we've had so far is worth celebrating, even if there are no more." MH, March 17, 1988 "...the future is as uncertain as it always must be for everyone, but the present is clear of misconception, failure, guilt & pointlessness. The world was a mire of useless struggle; now it's a struggle still, but one that contains its own reward. Mike said he wanted all the problems; he wanted to go through every bit of what we had coming to us, misery as well as happiness, he didn't want to miss a...
A Note From Marsha Hinko Pedersen: "Grandma Hinko"
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Grandma Hinko immigrated from Ukraine when she was a teen. Her role in the family was to cook. She was rarely seen outside of her kitchen. Even had a kitchen at the cottage in the Indiana Dunes. And a smokehouse for sausage. Her daughter Marie had to go over and clean the house because Grandma was busy cooking. Grandma filled big blue roaster pans with stuffed cabbages, pierogis, etc and my bachelor uncle and my grandfather would fill the car with pans and drive to the homes of the other family members to drop off food and, always, two 10” pies. Just in case we might have a hunger attack later in the day. Ha. She also had a garden and grew poppies. Then she would save the seed pods and use the seeds to make poppy seed cake. Oh, and she also baked huge loaves of bread! I inherited the garden/cooking gene. Grandma Sabina Hinko in her kitchen with Grandpa John Hinko
How To Prepare For Nuclear War
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According To Me At Age Seven In 1962. In October of 1962, the Soviet Union, whatever that is, started to deliver missiles - which is a type of rocket, but without an astronaut - to Cuba, an island near Florida. We knew this because earlier in the evening President Kennedy came on TV, on all the channels at the same time, and spoke in a serious voice. I already had an idea it was going to be about serious stuff because Dad came home from work early and we had early dinner and then we all went into the living room to watch President Kennedy. All of this was way different than the usual evening. Dad never came home from work early, he was always a little late. And after we ate dinner, my two older sisters would take turns on the telephone, calling their friends, while my younger sister and I would play. But here we all were in the living room, watching President Kennedy. I wasn’t sure I understood what the President was telling us. I looked over at my dad and I could tell I’d ...
Uncle Corky
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My uncle, Nick “Corky” Hinko, was a Chicago cop. For his entire career he ran right into the middle of the trouble. Think about that. We would seek to distance ourselves from such situations. But his job was to be right there, trying to protect us from the bad guys. See how big he looks standing next to his police car? That’s not a camera trick. If you were in a tough spot, Corky would be the guy you’d want to see rolling up. This short piece isn’t about the battle between the cops and the bad guys. You can find a mile high stack of stories about that. This is about Corky. Getting ready for a day’s or a night’s work, Corky would put on the uniform and pack his belt with the gun, the bullets, the nightstick, the sap, the handcuffs, the notepad and pens, the jacket and cap. He’d grab his lunch and thermos of coffee and head out to whatever that day would bring. Day after day, sweltering summers, freezing winters, he was there for the people of Chicago, to serve and protect. At the e...
A Letter from the Shan Village in the Hills of Northern Thailand…
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...west of Chiang Dow, north of Chiang Mai. October 8, 1983 I’m certainly ‘away from it all’ now. The Shan people, my guide explained, are the most civilized of the tribes we will visit. They have a written language, as exhibited in the ‘Shan Book,’ a collection of writings centered on their history and Shan Buddhism. Tonight we sleep in the former head chief’s house; a pretty nice place, actually. There’s no furniture, but it is clean, dry and built of solid teak - even teak shingles on the roof. Our guide is now cooking dinner in a wok over an open fire. Earlier I bathed in a nearby stream - sure felt good. Time to eat. Rice, Shan beans and chilis. Shan beans are white beans steamed soft, rolled into a paste and dried over a fire. They taste like some soybean snacks I’ve had. I really feel I’m in a different environment. Up till now there was always something I could identify as related to my lifestyle; an electric light, a bed, radio, something. Right now I’m rec...
The Middle Class
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I'm scanning family photos from the 1950s and 1960s. It's fun to look back. It's also a keen look inside early 1960s middle class life. My family lived in Chicago's Roseland neighborhood. A lot of the homes were owned by guys working in heavy industry jobs; U.S. Steel South Works, Republic Steel, Sherwin Williams, many others. Union jobs that paid a wage allowing families to live in a middle class neighborhood. That all came to a screeching halt when heavy industry shut its doors, and the nearby neighborhoods fell apart. Horrible urban decay. A young activist named Barack Obama looked at the decline of Roseland and decided to do something about it. Roseland has come back around. Not completely, but Obama pointed people in the right direction. I still watch what's going on in Roseland, and wish them better days.