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Norma Pennington lived in a brownstone apartment north and east of the University of Chicago, in an area that had a resurgent revitalization with a new generation of young multi-cultured families. In the taxi I noted Mexican, Middle Eastern, Puerto Rican, and Asian restaurants alongside the familiar fast food eateries, like McDonalds and KFC. School was in session, but I still saw youths shooting baskets on the playground and kids riding skateboards on the street.
Norma’s street was quiet, a continuous line of two-story, brownstones-- some with balconies littered with chairs, grills, and bicycles, on both sides of the road. Bumper-to-bumper cars lined one side of the street. Mature oaks and sycamores shrouded the area on a gloomy, cloudy day. The drapes in Norma’s apartment were close
