Studs is Dead
There are days a man doesn't want to sell a paper. Not in Chicago. This day was coming since the moment he was born. It took 96 years to finally close shop, but I'll bet he was at a typewriter at the last possible moment. Studs Terkel lived a life that was about everyman. It didn't matter that he was wealthy beyond belief, hob-nobbing with the literary elite. He still had class. So that's the news. It might be why you are here. Now, it's true. I got papers to sell, and it is Saturday. Used to be the working man grabbed a paper, got some coffee, and read the news. Now he logs on, and clicks through. So do I. Me too. But Studs was a writer and radio guy. Today, now, he's on the front pages of the Daily Herald, Chicago Sun-Times and Chicago Tribune. He's on PBS, and every local station. He knew everybody, and met everyone else. I even shook his hand once. Short little Jewish man with a big mouth. Won't ever forget that. Good guy, now gone. Sure, I don'