It was probably the summer of 1972 when I saw my first copy of The Reader. As a resident of Chicago’s southwest side, I was intrigued by the radio commercials for a free weekly alternative newspaper, but I didn’t have access to it. Back then, as now, The Reader’s circulation was limited to downtown and the north side. On an extended bike ride to the Lincoln Park Zoo with a couple of friends, I saw some copies outside (or maybe inside) a store and thought, Hey, it’s that Reader I’ve been hearing about. Over the years, The Reader would become an essential part of my life.
When I was attending the University of Illinois at Chicago, I would check out the personal ads while sitting in the cafeteria, wondering what the people behind those imaginative pseudonyms were really like. For a while, the Kroozin’ Music record store at 79th and Pulaski would import Readers from the north side, and I’d pick up a copy every Friday after getting off from work at Montgomery Ward. When I worked as a proofreader at various companies downtown, my Thursday ritual involved grabbing a stack of Readers at lunch and bringing them back to my fellow employees. When I moved to Lincoln Park, just around the corner from Tower Records, it was easy to find copies.
Now that I’m living in Palatine and working away from downtown, things have come full circle. Each Thursday, instead of heading straight home after work, I take the Blue Line into downtown to visit the Reckless Records and Graham Cracker Comics stores. And, grab some copies of The Reader for myself and my coworkers.
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