The fog comes on little cat feet.
It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.-- Carl Sandburg
That simple, sublime poem, written in 1916 by a favorite son of the Midwest, two-time Pulitzer Prize winner Carl Sandburg, preceded professional football in Chicago by four years.
Sandburg understood Chicago's peculiar quirks and rhythms intimately, apparently even the strange thermodynamic properties of adjacent ...
Read full story