Of Teddy Bears and Death

Throughout the Northside, random lamp posts and street signs are festooned with stuffed animals. The macabre monuments pay tribute to children who have died violently in drive-by shootings.

Cooling It at Blair and Newhouse

In the summer months, the city sets up sprinklers for inner-city kids in schoolyards, connecting the apparatus to nearby fire plugs with fire hoses. But these heat relievers are often left unused in favor of more creative designs. At the corner of Blair and Newhouse, for instance, during last week's 100-plus degree heat wave, a creative young urban planner built a giant fountain by encircling a fire hydrant with two old car tires and then wedging a board inside of them. A few well-placed turns of a monkey wrench opened the valve releasing a torrent, which hit the board, spraying water 15 to 20 feet in the air.

Good Morning Star Shine, the Earth Says Hello

The woman curled in the arm chair at the Dogtown coffeehouse, sat wiggling her toes, absorbed in reading Astral Travel for Beginners.

The Price of Doing Business

Crown Candy Kitchen, St. Louis' oldest and only old-fashioned ice cream parlor has been located on St. Louis Avenue since 1913, when a Greek immigrant opened the business. His grandsons maintain the establishment, catering to people who visit from throughout the area, including the affluent suburbs. But Crown is located in one of the poorest urban neighborhoods in the city.

Yesterday, an indigent woman entered the shop and begged one of the owners for bus fare. Opening the cash register, he gave her the money saying, "Here's a buck twenty-five, you'll have to get the return fare from somebody on the other end."

Water Theme Park: 19th and Penrose

The kids opened the fire hydrant on the corner yesterday and took turns jumping into the roaring torrent, which pushed them across the asphalt as they laughed, the welcomed waters providing a temporary respite to the heat.

A Hurricane Visits the Midwest

The spent force of Hurricane David crept up the Mississippi Valley, enveloping the city in fog and mist, a respite from the summer sun. Under these humid conditions, St. Louis' geographic coordinates seems to move south, transforming it into a lush locale. The blooming mimosas and lady cigar trees (catalpas) furthering this illusion. And in the alleys, Chinese transplants, the ubibiquitous Trees of Heaven, turn an urban landscape into a jungle.

See that His Grave Is Kept Clean

The black dude working the counter at the lottery-liquor store in Sauget drew us a map, a zig-zagging, curvacious series of lines on a piece of blue scrap paper. Following the cryptic directions, we meandered by the old chemical plants, past the new industrial park into the Illinois farm fields, where the bush league baseball park was located. After Willie Nelson performed as the sun set, Bob Dylan took command of the stage, singing songs from his forty-plus year career to a crowd of young and old. With darkness falling and marijuana smoke wafting through the air, Dylan, on keyboards and harmonica, and his back up band cast a spell on the crowd, the pounding beat moving seamlessly from one American musical genre to another, Dylan's gravel voice spitting out stacatto lines of lyrics. Dylan captured the audience early in the performance with a trance-inducing rendition of Highway 61. By the middle of the set, fully grooved, sweat dripped from his hawk nose. Mr. Zimmerman didn't bother to wipe it off.

The 5th of July

The young man sat curled in front of the shuttered Traveler's Aid Society office at 702 N. Tucker Blvd. early Monday morning, lecturing his reflection in the storefront's window, while a couple blocks south police stood and stared at the body of a black woman lying at the corner of Locust.

Hell and Brimstone on North Grand

The street preacher stood in the searing heat on the corner of Kossuth and North Grand with a bullhorn in his hand, a big man in a gray polyester sweatsuit with a message of salvation to impart to the world. These are the end days, he screamed, his voice crackling through the battery-powered megaphone. Accept Jesus or face certain damnation. Get right with God -- now! Some among his captive congregation prayed only for the light to turn green. It seemed like an eternity.