Growing up in Harvey, Illinois, it was a treat when my friends and I got to leave the neighborhood.  We didn't have much money, and usually didn't have access to transportation, so it was pretty much down to walking or staying on the block.  That changed somewhat when one of my friends, Tim Collins, got a car.

The car, which we called "The Hearse" was a beat up old station wagon that decided when it was going to start, stop, and when the breaks would go out.  It was an adventure just riding in it, but the hearse was our ticket out of "The Hood."  One day that ticket led us to a wild adventure in Chicago.

It was a Saturday in the mid 1980's.  I'd called my cousin Gia and asked her to get some of her friends together.  I'd get some of mine, we'd come down to visit in Chicago, and it would be party time!  We set up the details and it was on!  Late that afternoon a bunch of my friends got together at Tim's house, and we piled into the hearse.  There was Tim, Tracy Dyson, Mark, Aubrey and James Fourte, Andrew Richmond and me.  Seven people -- and we still had to make room for a near equal number of girls!

First we stopped to get some alcohol, then we were on our way!  Or so I thought!  Before we made it out of Harvey, the radiator overheated!  We stopped at a forest preserve for some water, but then the police showed up!  We had alcohol and we were all teenagers!  As the police car pulled up, I started walking towards it.  All I wanted to do was to keep the policeman away from the hearse -- and away from the alcohol!  My plan was working. as the policeman just rolled his car window down instead of exiting his ride.  "What's the problem?" he asked.  I told him about the radiator, and said that we were leaving as soon as we had finished pouring in water.  There was still a chance that he'd get out of the car, so I assured him that we were fine with my most friendly face.  With my heart pounding, I waited to see what he'd do.  The policeman took a second look at us and then, to my relief, said "take care" and slowly drove off.

With a job well done I strolled back to the car.  I felt so relieved, and thought everything would be smooth sailing from there.  Wrong!  I was 18 years-old at the time, and I was experimenting with marijuana.  Not smoking a whole lot, but I did enjoy what I smoked.  Besides having alcohol in the hearse, there was some really good weed!  After my encounter with the policeman I wanted a puff or two.  But, when I got up to the hearse, all I heard was "Damn Man, you fucked up!" I looked inside and someone, who shall remain nameless, had spilled E&J Brandy on those beautiful herbals.  Not everyone in the car smoked, so some weren't worried about it.  For those who were concerned, there was thought "What can go wrong next?" That would soon be answered.

We drove off down the highway and made our way to Hyde Park, the area where my cousin and her friends lived.  It's more famous for being the home of President Barack Obama.  We made it to her house, did brief introductions, and then went about the business of fitting thirteen (13) people in a small station wagon.  It was a struggle, but when you have determined teens, paired with the potential for partying, almost nothing is impossible!  We packed into the hearse and headed towards Chicago's Lakefront.

We chose an area on the Lake near the Chicago Yacht Club.  We found parking -- which is impossible at times in that area -- and unloaded the vehicle.  We chose a spot on the shore, passed out the drinks, and got lit up!  While others were trying to hook up, I was so drunk I was just trying to look up!  I remember staring at the waves, and feeling my stomach making waves.  Aside from the nausea it was a great time! The nighttime weather was beautiful, and everyone got along!   I should mention that Hyde Park, where the girls were from, is more of an upper-crust area; whereas Harvey, where we were from, is straight hood.  But it didn't matter!  Walls came down, laughter rose up, flirting commenced, and almost everyone got drunk.  Even Mark, who didn't do any drugs or alcohol, had a good time.  He was busy macking to (hitting on) my cousin Gia.  Fun for all, and no police!  We partied into the night, until we had to take the girls back home.

After going through the tedious exercise of getting thirteen people into the hearse, with many of those people being drunk as hell, we drove off.  Tim was the driver, and even after drinking he was excellent!  With trusty "Timmy Doo" behind the wheel, we drove back to Hyde Park.

As we came down a busy street, a car jetted out in front of us and hit another car!  Tim, with his cat-quick driving reflexes, swerved around the accident.  We barely missed being hit!  Just when I thought we were okay, one of my cousin's girlfriends screamed out "Don't step on the floor -- my glass eye fell out!!!"  Everyone in the hearse was in shock!

Tim tried driving with his feet off of the pedals.  Everyone else lifted their feet so as not to crush her glass eye.  Aubrey and I were in the very back, nowhere near the front seat where the now one-eyed girl was sitting, but we even tried lifting our feet.  A few moments later she reached down and said "I got it." I was toasted, but it looked like she blew on the glass eye, wiped it on her blouse, and popped it back in.  Everyone sat in silence for the rest of the ride...drunken and stunned!

We dropped the girls off and decided to head to Chicago's famous -- or infamous -- Rush Street.  Before leaving for our next destination, the alcohol took drastic effect.  Aubrey held his head out of the back window and started to call Earl.  For those not in the know, Earl is a sound sometimes made while throwing up after drinking.  I looked at my homeboy Aubrey, felt my stomach rumble, and just when I thought I could fight the urge I thought about that falling glass eye.  Suddenly I said "I hear you Aub," stuck my head out of the window next to his and we called EARL IN TANDEM! When Earl was off the line, Tim started the hearse and we headed to the North Side to hit Rush Street.

When we got to Rush Street we found a parking spot, and got out of the vehicle.  I had my ID and wallet with me, but I was wearing shorts with no pockets.  Consequently, I decided to leave my wallet with ID in the hearse...BAD MOVE!

We were maybe 10 feet away from the hearse when the police pulled up and got out of their cars. "Show some ID" one of the officers demanded.  I told him about having no pockets and how my ID was in a car less than 10 feet away.  It didn't matter...those that had ID were freed, the rest of us were taken to the police station and locked up for curfew violations.

We were placed in a cell with a few pregnant prostitutes who had lollipops.  Aubrey, always interested in the women, asked one "Hey miss lady, wanna go half on a baby?" I think she already had that covered.  We sat in the cell until Mrs. Fourte came to bail us out.  Before leaving to go back to Harvey I called Earl one more time, and left a mural for the police on the station's back wall. 

It had been one helluva day.  Avoiding police, car breaking down, getting drunk, trying to smoke wet brandy soaked weed, partying on the Lakefront, and eventually getting arrested for curfew; but what stuck in my mind most was that eye.  That night would forever be remembered by me as the "Night of Falling Glass." 

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