Chicago Westside Irish: A Book of Short Stories: A Book of Short Stories

By Michael McHugh and Gerald McHugh

This book is a compilation of short stories my Father told me and my brother Jerry. My Dad's Uncles were bootleggers in the 1930s during prohibition. They were also Al Capone's most dangerous enemies. The war between Klondike O'Donnell, Myles O'Donnell, and Al Capone is already a bloody part of history.

These are some of the real untold stories. This is also a story about our Father and his best friend's 40-year rise to power in the infamous Hotel Employees and Restaurant Employees and Bartenders International Union where it was once called the most mobbed-up union in the world by the press! Look it up...it happened!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716668210

Book preview

Chicago Westside Irish:

A Book of Short Stories

Jerry and Mike McHugh

Copyright © 2020 Michael and Gerald McHugh

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-71666-821-0

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book of short stories about the McHugh and O'Donnell families could not have happened without the inspirations of Michaela (Mickey) and Gerald (Jerry) McHugh.  Also, our thanks to our sister Anne and brothers Matthew and Daniel for their encouragement and insight.

    Individual accolades are given to Farhad Samadi for his computer expertise and Yacob Abdi for his editing/formatting prowess.  Diane McHugh Muldowney with a new set of eyes on our project edited and finely tuned a few of our stories. Our closest friends, Billie Jean Myers, Linda Brock, and Danna Meyer, assisted us throughout this endeavor.

1 THREE GUYS

I

n the beginning, Dad had two very good friends, Edward Hanley and Al O’Neil.  Dad was twenty-two years old working for the city of Chicago as its youngest building inspector ever.  Ed was working in his father’s bar as a bartender.  And Al was working here and there but had nothing permanent.  Dad was the leader at this point, and he told me that he would pick up the other two in his brand new 1950 Buick. 

    As their relationship grew, their positions in the car changed.  Dad used his connection with my Mother’s father, Thomas O’Donnell, my Grandfather, who was a lieutenant with the Chicago Police Department to get Al into the police department.  That’s why Al was riding shotgun in the passenger’s seat.  Ed was low man on the totem pole at this time, and he was in the back seat.  When Ed scored his job as a business agent with the Hotel Restaurant Employees and Bartenders International Union, he moved into the shotgun position, and Al wound up in back.  Al was moving up very quickly in the police department, and after a little while, Ed was driving, Al was in the shotgun position, and now Dad was in the back seat.  Dad said, That was how it stayed from that point on!

      Ed was the leader, Al was second in command, and Dad was third.  They had played political, musical chairs.  Dad still had more connections in the city and knew his way around the city better than the other two.  My Mother told me once that Ed didn’t like going Downtown, that he was more a small, neighborhood type of guy in the beginning.  Dad would have to convince him to go Downtown.  Dad would take Ed to different bars and restaurants.  They would also go to different jazz joints.  Ed said to Dad once that he didn’t think he would ever become a Downtown guy.  Dad said to him, "Eddie, you are never going to be successful with the union unless you get over your fear of the crowds Downtown.  Ed agreed, and Dad and Al would go Downtown with Ed as much as possible to get him acclimated to it.

      Dad knew Downtown like the back of his hand.  He understood the grid system of the city.  Chicago’s streets were based on the grid system, basically each block was a hundred block traveling north and south, and east and west.  If you wanted to know where an address was, all you had to do was give him the number, and whether it was north, south, east or west, and he could tell you within a block where it was.  Al was learning the city too, being a police officer.  They made it a lot easier for Ed to get his bearings.

    Dad also knew where all the movers and shakers hung out.  He had an ability to knock talk out of almost anybody.  He went out of his way to meet as many people as he could in a day to find out where they worked and remember their phone number by heart.  This was how he built his huge database of connections.  If you asked him if he knew someone in this or that department of the city or state, he could almost always come up with a name of a friend.  If he couldn’t, then he knew someone who could.  He also had an awesome ability for following up with people and never dropping the ball.  Ed would say I have to go to this hotel bar or restaurant and see this guy, and you could bet nine out of ten times Dad knew the bar and the guy and was friendly with him.  This kind of pull was indispensable to Ed.  It propelled his career with the union at a dramatic rate.  Not only did my Father know hundreds of guys Downtown, but my Grandfather, Pete McHugh, and my uncles all knew hundreds of guys each from their dealings as heads of the Bricklayers’ Union, the Electricians’ Union and the city workers. 

    On my Mom’s side of the family, my Grandfather was now the top police officer in the state, Director of Public Safety, working for the governor, Adlai Stevenson.  Dad had to get over a thousand guys jobs in his lifetime, and they got jobs for other guys and so on and so on.  Most of them never forgot Dad and what he did for them.  He had connections for driver’s licenses and driving jobs with the Teamsters Union on beer trucks, too.  His Uncle, Herbie Phelps, ran the Newspaper Drivers Union with all his connections.  Dad knew all the judges in the city and was an acquaintance of the original Mayor Daley.  If you needed a permit or something okayed, he could get it done.  If you needed something fixed, he would make a motion to fix.  He used to say, The fix is in.  He would send a guy to apply for a job knowing he already had it.  Once he was in, he would get him to get others in.  It was an endless circle of connections.  He would say, I’m in the loop in more ways than one [Downtown Chicago is called The Loop because of the elevated train (The El) that circles it.] 

    The Irish and Italians were the leaders.  Families were so intermingled: Irish marrying Italians and Polish.  Plus, first, second, third, fourth and fifth cousins and their spouses’ families.  It was a giant interconnected puzzle of graft and corruption, but nobody called it that because it was just business as usual, the way it had been for over a hundred years.  Bribes and payoffs were just rules of the game.  Dad would say, I had to smear him.  There must have been thousands of people Downtown that were interconnected, and that’s not even taking in account their mothers, wives, sisters and female cousins that all worked for the city or state.  You can never underestimate the power of these women in the city.  They were very organized also, meeting at lunches, political and Catholic church functions.  These were the women behind their men.

2 SHANE’S LOUNGE

B

arnie was a bank robber.  Every once in a while, he dabbled into post office burglaries.  He liked to steal money orders and the machines to make them.  He spent almost half of his life in various prisons.  He was a childhood friend of my Father’s and they stayed friends through all of his many incarcerations.  I learned about his nickname, Joey Dirty Shirt O’Brien, from the television series called Primetime that featured a special on the Hotel Restaurant Employees and Bartenders International Union.  It also had all the organized crime connections like Frank the Horse, Joe Gags, Joey the Clown, Big and Little Tuna, and Juke Box Smitty, who was murdered not far from our house and many more who either owned mob restaurants or frequented them.

    Barnie worked for my Dad, Shane, at his bar called Shane’s on the Westside.  It was around North and Austin Avenues in a large Irish and Italian community.  We all went to the same church, Catholic.  Most of the older guys in the neighborhood all went to Catholic school together.  If you’re Catholic and had money, your kids went to St. Angela’s; if you didn’t, then you had to go to Ella Flagg Young public school.

    One night at Shane’s, Dad said Barnie had a small poker game with four guys playing.  One of them was from Oklahoma, one from Chicago and one from Boston.  Dad asked them what they wanted to drink, and Whitey Bolger said, We only drink whiskey.  Dad said, What brand?  He said, All you have is that swill you Midwesterners drink.  Dad said, I do keep a few bottles in the basement for special occasions.  Whitey said, Well, this is a special occasion, what do you have down there?  Dad said, Some Ezra Brooks.  Whitey hollered, Ezra Brooks, how do you know about Ezra Brooks?!  Dad said, What do you think, I’m some kinda lame?  I know what’s good and what’s not.  Whitey said, No offense friend, I’m just glad you have such good taste.  Dad said, None taken.  Barnie said, I’ll go get it, Shane, and he sauntered downstairs and came back with two fifths.

    Just then a worker from the electric company came in the door.  He was about 5’4 with a balding head, dark-rimmed glasses held together with tape in the middle, and he walked like he thought he was somebody.  He said, I need to speak to the owner.  Dad said, I’m the owner, what’s your name?  I’m Charlie, and as he pushed back his glasses from the middle, and he said, I’m sorry.  You’re in arrears on your electrical bill, and I have to shut off your power.  Dad said, Can’t I just pay you right now?  Charlie said, I’m not allowed to take payments.  Dad said, Can’t I give you twenty bucks, and I’ll go pay the bill tomorrow.  I can’t do that either," he quipped. 

    Dad retorted, Well, the power company office is just a couple of miles from here. How about I run right over and pay the bill and you sit here, have a beer on the house, and I’ll be back in few minutes with the receipt.  What kinda beer you want?  Charlie said, Listen, I have to climb up the pole and turn it off, then you have to call the company, and they will send somebody out to turn it back on.  Dad said, How long will that take?  Charlie said, A couple of days.  Dad was thinking this little prick has got a real big Napoleon complex: a little man with a little power, the power of the pen, and he’s going to lord it over me!  Then Dad said, There has to be some way we can work this out. I can’t close down my bar for a couple of days.  Charlie said, There is nothing I can do about it, sorry.  I’m going to have to disconnect you at the top of the pole.  At this point, Whitey chimes in and says, "This man is