Bears playoff broadcast exposes dark truth of Navy Pier sign — glitchy bulbs

In my 30 years — at the end of January — as a columnist for the Chicago Sun-Times, I've been tasked by readers with many odd missions. One gave me an urn holding a lady's ashes that he had been entrusted with. I handed the urn to her loved ones. Another reader, a VA social worker, drew me into trying to track down the family of a Marine vet, found frozen to death in a West Side doorway and headed toward a pauper's grave in Homewood. My column helped locate his family in Alabama, who had been looking for him.

An elderly reader once asked if I could arrange for the newspaper to be delivered closer to her front door, as her driveway was icy. She was worried about falling. I knew that would prove beyond my capabilities, so I went over and scraped the ice off her driveway myself, to her surprise, and mine.

I tend to take such situations seriously, because I appreciate people reading this stuff, and try to help them, best as I can. Ditto for those who cooperate with being put in the paper. When I profiled a homeless man living in the Glen of North Glenview train station parking lot, whose dream was to work in Appleton, Wisconsin, I phoned the mayor of Appleton to see what could be done. Nothing, as it turned out. But I made the call.

I don't always. "I'm not a social service," as I sometimes testily snap, to my wife's consternation. But certain situations just demand action. Such as this email, which arrived Sunday afternoon from Cathryn of Burr Ridge:

"Hi Neil. Watched Bear’s game last night & admired how beautiful Chicago presents on TV. Until the shot of Navy Pier — some lights on Chicago Children’s Museum are burned out which looked second rate on the national stage. I thought maybe you’d know who to contact so it could be corrected before next game. Thank you. Your long time reader..."

I'd watched the same game — my wife's suggestion. "Let's join the zeitgeist!" she said, cheerily. (Zeitgeist, German: "the spirit or mood of a particular time." Shows what can happen to a person if she hangs around me for 40 years). I'd admired the swooping shots of the glittering city, and did not notice any balky Children's Museum sign. That could have been during the third quarter when, with the Bears on the ropes, we got bored and watched an episode of "Victoria."

Something about Cathryn's request seemed irresistible. It was a trust drop. No A.I. aggregator is going to ask the Children's Museum about their sign. I reached out to their PR guy, who put me in touch with Peter Williams, Vice President, Exhibits and Building Operations at the museum. I forwarded the email. Williams replied:

"Chicago Children's Museum has an old school neon sign on the Navy Pier Head House. Sometimes when it rains, a neon transformer ground fault interrupter (GFI) will trip causing three letters to go out. Typically, the GFI will dry out and reset in less than a day. The part of the sign that went out on Saturday night was back on by noon on Sunday."

Problem solved! I suppressed the urge to take full credit, "Well Cathryn it wasn't easy — those fools at the Children's Museum tried to deny everything. But our CEO, Melissa Bell got on the horn to the mayor, and he leaned on Russ Ivinjack, chair of the museum board of directors, and a crane was out there Monday afternoon, replacing the entire sign ..."

I did contact the reader, told the truth, adding a question of my own: why ask me, of all people?

"When I thought 'who’s a man about town who’d know who to contact?' you were first to come to mind," she replied. "I’ve read your column for years and find you to be very urbane."

Ha! "Urbane." Never been accused of that before. Space dwindles, and I want to reward the Children's Museum for responding, which is more than many organizations would manage. Fun being had there?

"We just opened a display all about Chicago singer Ella Jenkins, the 'First Lady of Children's Music.' the PR guy wrote. "We were lucky to receive her collection of spinning tops, which she gathered from all over the world, and now have them on display with lots of other objects from Ella's life."

Spinning tops! Say no more. I'm going to take the granddaughter there just as soon as she can walk. Which reminds me, I had one of the most significant parenting moments of my life at the Chicago Children's Museum at Navy Pier. A story which ... I'll have to tell you another day. One beauty of a daily column. There's always another one.