Jamie Janosz

I grew up in the town of Thornton, Illinois, a suburb just south of Chicago. With a population of 3,700, we knew almost everyone in our town. We didn't have much of a downtown - just a small grocery store, a pharmacist, a filling station, and our favorite hot dog stand. What Thornton did have was one of the world's largest limestone quarries. In fact, I remember owning a t-shirt, printed in the 1970s, that boasted of this distinction. It read: Thornton Home of the World's Largest Limestone Quarry (and on the back) Drop In Sometime... Today I learned that the huge cement/stone chute that overlooked one of the main roads is being torn down. It made me think of how integral the quarry was to my childhood. It was a part of the landscape...the backdrop for our lives. If you lived in Thornton, you were used to dust. Lots and lots of dust. The fine gray dust from the quarry was aggravating to housewives who struggled to keep surfaces clean and polished.

In 1877, a woman named Sarah Dunn Clarke and her newly-wedded husband George started a rescue mission on Chicago’s south side.   They were wealthy, but their hearts were broken by the men and women who struggled to survive on the city’s streets.   The Pacific Garden Mission is the 2 nd oldest operating rescue mission in the United States. Now located on 14 th St and Canal – just south of Chicago’s loop – they offer shelter to as many as a thousand men and women on any given night.   As part of my book research to understand how the work of Sarah Clarke continues today, I visited the mission with my friend Dawn Pulgine. Entering through the side, we felt a bit out of our element. Men, black and white, old and young, clustered near the doorway. Some carried bags of personal belongings. Others were working the desk and security. It was mid-day at the Mission. We were given a tour by one of the “program men” – residents who choose to stay and live at the