Chicago 1927. The Roaring Twenties was a great time to live in the Windy City. You weren’t a true Chicagoan if you didn’t frequent a speakeasy during the prohibition years to kick up your heels after tipping the face in a tiny peephole to enter a noisy club.
Who cared if Capone, Nitty, or one of the other mobs delivered the illegal booze? That was all part of the fun. And the Keystone Cops playing tag with everyone only added to the merriment.
The near south side of Chicago was a crossroads. They say if you stood there long enough, you’d see every kind of mortal soul on this side of Noah and his ark: some good, some bad, some just there, love seekers, thrill seekers, the walking dead and those trying to help the walking dead.
Among the show houses, soup kitchens, flop houses, and sidewalk chapels Southern Lights Theater stood out like a beacon, a step above its competition, as were its prices. The theater catered to upper class swells who wore tuxedos and rented gowns to fantasize and mingle after a boring opera or genteel party. Likewise, the high wages at the club attracted the pick of the crop of exotic dancers, some of whom were college girls playing a role while earning big bucks. The current star at Southern Lights Theater was a vivacious, curvaceous, and haunting beauty who was packing the place. The bright lights on the marquee advertised her as Miss Lily Annn, Queen of Exotic Dance.
A white-collared man of God tried to look as inconspicuous as possible when let in the backstage door and led to the dressing room area. He couldn’t avoid looks by the two skimpily dressed dancers gyrating on the stage to the pulsating music of a four-piece band—or the gaze of the elderly man throttling the colored stage lights from a big switchboard.
The stagehand tapped on the door marked with a silver star and then threw it open to reveal a lady stretched out on a recliner.
The lady waved off the man and held out her hand. “Father, I’m glad you’ve come. My name is Lilly Annn. I wasn’t sure you’d come after you found out where I work.”
“My name is Father Ricard. As you probably know, our church is only a few blocks west of here. I’ve been told you have a problem you wanted to see me about.”
Lilly Annn had him sit across from her, paused to take a deep breath and let it out. “I’m dying. There is something I must tell someone; I’m a professional dancer and don’t have any family.”
She noticed him looking at her pregnant belly. “Oh, that. That’s part of the story. I don’t want her father to know.”
“Are you a Catholic?” he asked.
“I’m not… But I believe in God. Isn’t that enough?”
“I’m not either,” Father Ricard said. “Our denomination has many similar cannons as the Catholic church and probably as many dissimilarities.”
He reached for her hand. “I can tell you are troubled. How may I help?”
“When I learned that I was pregnant, I felt the greatest happiness I’ve ever known.” She patted her stomach. “This baby means more to me than anything on earth. That’s why I’ve been putting away every cent I make; I want her to have a good life.”
“Are you the one who’s been sending large amounts of money to our church, asking us to save it until we receive information?”
“That’s me.”
“I can tell you that it’s become a sizable amount. We’ve marked the account Jane Doe until we know more.”
Lilly Annn grimaced, throwing her head back. “Thank God.”
“You’re in pain. Shall I call someone?”
“No, please. It comes and goes. I need to tell you my story before it’s too late. So no one is mistaken, my baby daughter is the result of a very loving relationship.”
“What about her father?”
“For very, very personal and private reasons, he must never be told about the baby.”
“I don’t understand. Is he already married?”
“Nothing like that. It’s just that he has led a life outside the law. I wouldn’t want my child to have anything to do with the kind of life he leads and the people he associates with. She deserves better.”
“But doesn’t she deserve to know who her father is? He can’t be all bad if you love him so much.”
“That was before I found out how deeply he was involved in illegal dealings. Please believe me, it isn’t just him; it’s what might happen to her. She could be used by his enemies to punish him. I’ve written a letter to be given to my child once she is of legal age. I have explained that she was born out of deep love and that her mother and father will be waiting for her in heaven. I know in my heart I am doing the right thing.”
“If that’s your decision, I won’t ask any more questions. Should you want to discuss your illness with me, I’m ready to listen. What else can I do to help you personally?”
“Pray for me and my baby. And when she arrives, use the money I have saved to find her a foster home where she will be loved as she grows up.”
“As you probably know, our church is well known for bringing together families who can’t have their own children with babies who deserve a loving home.”
“Yes, I do.” She closed her eyes. “That’s the reason I’ve been so careful in the choice I made.”
Father Ricard knelt next to her for a quiet prayer and then stood up and looked into her eyes. “Let me assure you, your wishes will be carried out to the letter. I promise we will find a wonderful home for your daughter, and I will personally watch over her as she grows. …and with your permission, I would like