A tribute to newsstand owner as he closes up shop
Sweltering heat didn’t stop crowds from gathering in Edison Park last week as Mike Kaage closed his newsstand for the last time. Rain or shine, the local landmark was open every day since 1943.
Kaage’s newsstand shuttered June 29 — what would have been his grandfather’s 126th birthday.
"It’s a bittersweet day," said Kaage, 68, who started working at his family's stall when he was 5.
Under a blazing sun, customers, business owners, neighbors and family members — from toddlers to nonagenarians — stopped by to say goodbye.
A television crew arrived. Cars honked. Drivers offered dollar bills to Kaage through their car windows. Customers hugged him after buying their Sun-Times, Tribunes and other newspapers.
When I wrote about Kaage’s retirement announcement last month, I was struck by how this unassuming kiosk had witnessed so much history through the countless newspapers it sold.
Sales spiked after 9/11 and when the Cubs won the World Series in 2016, Kaage recalled. One can only imagine how many newspapers sold after watershed moments like the end of World War II or the assassination of President John Kennedy.
The tiny newsstand was a touchstone with an outsize impact. It was literally at a crossroads where people paused to buy a paper, talk to Kaage and remember their humanity for a moment.
In this digital age, news is fleeting. Physical manifestations — whether a newspaper or newsstand — are fast disappearing like a once-ubiquitous endangered species. That made Kaage’s last hurrah all the more precious.
As Kaage’s older brother Irvin III noted, the newsstand "is not just a place to buy a newspaper. It’s a cornerstone of the community."
When I stopped by last week, I spoke to well-wishers who shared a kaleidoscope of memories. John Jaros, who grew up nearby, recalled when his father sent him to the newsstand to buy the paper in the 1960s and 1970s.
"Even when I was young, this place was old," said Jaros, who lives in Aurora. "It’s really an institution."
Men in their 60s and 50s who worked at the newsstand as boys also came to pay tribute to Kaage and reminisce about selling papers in subfreezing temperatures.
Frank Chambers, 63, started working as a Kaage newsboy when he was 9. He made 75 cents an hour to hawk newspapers, sell horse racing forms and assemble once-massive Sunday editions. "After church let out, everyone would dash for the Sunday paper," said Chambers, now living near Schaumburg.
Former newsboy Sean Wolford, 55, made the trip from Florida. He recalled the popularity of the Polish newspaper when it first came out, as well as selling horse racing forms to "high-roller guys with fancy cars."
Every morning, Kaage or his father Irvin Jr. were at the newsstand before 5 a.m., said Maria Dalmazio, the longtime owner of Tony’s Deli around the corner. If she needed change, they always helped.
Sue Rose, who used to own the nearby coffee shop Morning Grind, said the Kaages were there if doughnuts needed to be dropped off predawn, before her cafe opened.
Ed Sturm lives a block away and took photos of Kaage with his 13-year-old son. Sturm bought a newspaper every day on his way to the train just to talk to Kaage.
"It was more about the person than the paper," said Sturm, who is not interested in home delivery.
Kaage is "a staple of the community," said Dennis Gancarz, owner of Edison Park Inn, who has purchased newspapers for the bar since the 1980s. But with the newsstand closing, "This is probably the last day we get a paper," he admitted.
Since 1987, neighbor Tom Needham bought a Sunday paper from the newsstand. "It feels more personal. It’s part of the small town feel of this neighborhood," he said.
Kaage’s constant presence could easily be taken for granted.
"People really underestimate businesses and how hard they work," Needham said.
Maureen Carney was a customer for roughly 40 years. When she went on vacation, the Kaages saved her two weeks' worth of newspapers. "I guess I can’t go on vacation anymore," she said.
Over the years, the newsstand had survived a fire, a car crash and rowdy adolescent antics. Marty Furlong, sheepishly admitted he vandalized the newsstand decades ago. But Furlong, now about 50, glowed when he recalled how Kaage’s father kindly greeted him when they saw each other around 2003 — even though their last meeting was at the police station.
Pat Iaconetti, a customer since the mid-1990s, underscored Kaage’s empathy and human connection.
"He’s the best of us," said Iaconetti.
As the newsstand’s 10:30 a.m closing time neared, the crowd swelled. A Chicago police officer prepared a balloon-festooned gift bag for Kaage.
Before closing, Kaage addressed the crowd and paid tribute to his parents’ legacy: "Thank you to the community and customers. It’s been a pleasure. I will miss everyone," he said.
Kaage then invited the crowd to the Firewater Saloon across the street and offered to buy the first round. After that, they were on their own, he joked. "I’m on a fixed income."
Now Kaage no longer has to open the newsstand at 4 a.m., but he guessed he would still wake up at 3 a.m.
"I’m probably going to do that for a long time," Kaage said of his daily workday ritual. "I’m going to miss it."
The Edison Park community and others will miss him, too.
Amy Yee is a business and economy reporter for the Sun-Times.
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