Chicago has always been a great big “Joe’s Place.” In our youth it seemed Joes were everywhere–on both sides of the street and on both sides of the family. My dad’s Uncle Joe taught me how to play whist and pour beer down the side of a glass. My Grandpa Joe taught me how to throw a curveball and insult all ethnic groups. My mom’s Uncle Joe, a Chicago police detective, taught me that the crime syndicate was “just another business” and that politicians and policemen had much more in common than the first three letters of their job titles. Whatever you needed to know, whatever you wanted to buy, it seemed you could always get it from a guy named Joe.
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“People don’t seem to name their children Joe anymore,” said Joe Marzec, owner of Joe’s on Broadway, a neighborhood bar at 3563 N. Broadway. “When I was a kid everybody’s family had a Joe and a Mary. Now it’s Jason and Megan.”
