You could take the stairs, but carrying a heavy portfolio, I always opted for the elevator. You just waited until it came to you. No buttons to push. If the inner doors were open you could watch the cab through the metal caging as it went by. The best thing was, if you were running for it, you’d just make it. Tom (Tommy Durkin) would wait for you. That’s why the inner doors were always open, so he could watch everyone. We greeted each other every morning and every afternoon. That elevator was a cocoon. Once inside you’re safe, never miss your floor, Tommy would prompt you. It was a cozy little box. Metal and rich wood. One hundred and thirty years old today. If I ever took the stairs, it was for exploration. Our school was a small part of that building. Looking back on my years in Chicago, I realize just how much I loved that place, the quirks, the beauty, and the incredible history. One of the things I miss most about Chicago.