 In Chicago’s Humboldt Park neighborhood on the city’s West Side, a sandwich shop on North Avenue stands as it has for more than 20 years — menu prices taped over
and over again on the wall, a door that squeaks and sticks in its groove, a bulletproof service window separating servers slinging Philly subs with a pile of fries and a crisp, cold orange soda. But now, without its beloved owner, an undertone of lifelessness lingers. Related articles: |
