The world is turning topsy turvy these days. The biggest banks evaporate overnight. The market plunges – did anyone notice that NASDAQ dropped over 9% today? And a conservative Republican President is desperately attempting to sell a $700 billion market bailout to a stunned electorate. For people losing their jobs, this is horrendous news. Just imagine what it’s like in Charlotte. (Think of depending on US Airways as a pillar of your local economy!) The nation is in a state of shock.
But we all experience things most intensely when they’re personal. Today two important bits of my past evaporated. First, the place I was born 46 years ago: Michael Reese Hospital on the South Side of Chicago. It was an independent facility, not the University of Chicago or Northwestern, but as far as I understood as a child, a fine place to to arrive on earth. I don’t know if everyone is intensely conscious of their “home hospital”, but I am. In a small way, it’s part of how I understand and define myself. Well, continuity no more. Today, 127 year old Michael Reese declared bankruptcy.
Twenty two years later, fresh out of college, I got a job as a paralegal at Heller, Ehrman, White and McAullife. I started by doing document review as a temp (Certified FlexStaff, if memory serves). A few months later, I became one of two legal assistants working the Jessie Short Native American land trust litigation. Not only was the substance of my work compelling; I really liked the firm’s community. It was a central space in my life during those post-college, pre-law school years. And today, Heller, Ehrman dissolved itself.
At this point in my life, these institutions are largely symbolic. I don’t have friends at Heller. And I haven’t been to the Michael Reese campus since 1975. But I always knew they were there. As I moved through my life, they were sturdy reminders of where I’d been and who I was today. I suppose I remain the same, notwithstanding their departure. It just doesn’t quite feel that way.