I’ll be the first to admit that as a lover and student of history, my historic sense sometimes sweeps me away to another time and place, where the past feels as vivid as the present. It’s not so much getting lost in my imagination as it is being transported to another time and place. Call it a sixth sense. Who needs Doc Brown?
And so, it was at Farrington Field, the art deco classic on the near West Side, many years ago as I sat perched high atop the stadium in the press box — spartan by any measure compared to today’s modern suites of gawdawful Suburbia, Texas — awaiting kickoff of a high school football game, one of several dozen I’ve written about over the years at the historic grounds, which sit at the corner of University Drive and Lancaster Avenue.
I looked to the southeast as the open-top car pulled into the entrance of the stadium. Its driver navigated past the visiting team locker rooms and down the concrete ramp onto the track…