By Ben Joravsky
He has always, he says, been a man of modest means. “I was born in Nashville, I went to school at the Art Institute, and for a while I lived in Dallas, when I worked in the art department at Neiman Marcus. I came back to Chicago in the early 50s because I liked it here. I was never rich. It’s always been a struggle.”
The more Creasman thought about it, the angrier he got. The $125 fee seemed excessive. And it seemed strange that the city should suddenly appear at his door. No one else in his building had been visited. “If the city came by, maybe they were out,” he says. “But no one had been asked to pay a license fee.”
The license bears the stamped signatures of Mayor Daley and City Clerk James Laski. Not surprisingly, Laski’s spokesman is quick to explain that his office had nothing to do with what had happened to Creasman. “No, no, no, we don’t write tickets,” says Peter Coffey. “We only issue the licenses after the fees are paid.”
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It’s His Party
“We told Glenn, along with some of the other representatives out of our area, and Glenn responded right back to us,” says Gary Collins, president of United Paperworkers International Local 7591, which represents the Trailmobile workers.
