It was a windy October Saturday in Chicago, 1994, and we were spending the weekend with Ed and Anna, who had just moved into their apartment near the Univ. of Chicago campus.  Ed was beginning graduate school and Anna had started a new job at the University Hospital.  We were eager to visit the big city and they were very brave to invite us - my brother Jim, nephew Paul, our mom Christine, and myself to their three-room apartment.  I remember there being no air conditioning, but the apartment was only a couple of blocks from Lake Michigan.  The constant cross breeze with the open windows was so refreshing.  Sleeping space somehow worked out for Jim and Paul.  (My mom and I took a B&B down the street, what fun!).

We had spent the day shopping Downtown before heading back by bus to the apartment to cool out a bit before exploring the area for a special restaurant for dinner.  The bus was crowded and my mom and I were only too relieved to find a pair of seats.  I remember setting my shopping bag down beside me, along with my purse that had a long shoulder strap.  I had saved up for the trip, planning to treat everyone that evening.

With brother Jim as navigator we easily found our way from the bus stop the short few blocks to the apartment.  When I arrived, I noticed my purse felt a bit strange and decided to just check.  Feeling around for familiar shapes in my purse, I froze when I discovered what really was missing - my billfold with all my hard earned cash and two credit cards. 

I quickly called Jack, who had stayed back in Columbus, for help in stopping payment on the cards.  Needless to say our Saturday evening mood was a bit dampened from my mishap.  However, I did learn a lesson - to carry a smaller bag that could be kept closer to my body when in crowds.  No more large, flappy purses! 

A week or so after returning to Ohio I received an envelope from a name and address I did not recognize.  My husband Jack realized immediately who it was - a track friend of his who lived in Dayton, Ohio.  Inside the envelope was my driver's license with a handwritten note!!

This gentleman, who was in his 70s at the time, had participated in a run along the Lake Michigan shoreline the Sunday of the weekend we had visited Ed and Anna.  As he ran along in the sand he saw something unique sticking up, like some kind of a card.  When he picked it up, he realized it was a driver's license.  Upon closer examination he was amazed to recognize the Columbus address being that of his running friend John White!