The Beach Poets of Chicago

Aug 21, 2023

Last Sunday I dropped my son off in South Chicago at Illinois Tech for his sophomore year of architecture school. I’d seen on Facebook that my friend and fellow writer, Westley Heine, was feature reading at The Beach Poets, a reading that’s hosted on a Lake Michigan beach on Chicago’s North Side. So, I helped my son unload a pick up truck full of things like a mini fridge he’ll use the hell out of, and an air fryer that I bet him he won’t use more than three times this semester, and I loaded the remaining kids in the truck and hightailed it down the scenic and world famous Lake Shore Drive.

Most people thinking of Chicago no doubt think of many things, but usually beaches aren’t one of them, but friends, out of all of the roads you can take in America, and I’ve taken as many of them as I’ve come across, Lake Shore Drive in Chicago is one of the top five most scenic roads I’ve ever been on. Driving north with the massive City and its famous architecture on your left, and the beaches, the Navy Pier and the gorgeous Lake Michigan on your right. Don’t gawk too much in the six lane bumper to bumper traffic, but do take a chance to drive it once, if you find yourself like I was, rummaging around Chitown looking for some good times and some poetry, whichever came first.

The Beach Poets meet on Greenleaf Beach every Sunday from 1:30-3. Parking isn’t as bad as I thought it might be, as there’s pay parking near the reading and a few lots within a few blocks, all at about $2 an hour, cheap rates in Chicago. You can get to the reading by train, bus, car, bicycle or boat. How many readings can claim that?

The weather was Chicago typical in its unpredictability. The clouds flip-flopped from partial and sunny, to gray and threatening rain. The beach was crowded on that Sunday afternoon with families, lovers, bicyclists, and dog walkers. Tents were set up along the perimeter where families could rest during their all day beach excursion. Music and chatter of all varieties and languages, grill smoke, kites, sports balls of all manner, and laughter all competed with the rolling waves of Lake Michigan to provide a Chicago style background.

I found a blue canopy tent with some camp chairs in a circle, and I knew I’d found the reading because my friend, the poet and author Westley Heine, the feature reader of the afternoon, was sitting in one of the chairs, and he spotted me walking up from 50 yards away. He got up and met me with a hug before I got to the tent. “No way,” he said, “no way,” at his surprise in seeing me there. I hadn’t warned him that I was coming. I just showed up.

Wes and I got to be social media friends a year or more before I met him in person last May at a big reading we both participated in with our editor and friend Michele McDannold in Michigan City, IN. Wes is the author of a handful of books including the novel Busking Blues: Recollections of a Chicago Street Musician, and the poetry and short story collection Street Corner Spirits, both from Roadside Press, and both books come with my full endorsement. Wes writes in the straightforward, no bull shit manner that I look for in all art.

Wes and I caught up a bit, and he introduced me to Beach Poets host Cathleen Schandelmeier, who is not only an accomplished artist, and a fierce advocate of the arts and social justice, but has hosted the Beach Poets every Sunday, May - September, since 1990! Hosting a successful reading for any length of time is commendable. I’ve done it, and I know how much work it is to plan and host readings, but to do it for 30+ years and counting is a true testament to Cathleen’s love of poetry and community. I could have talked to her and Wes for hours, but there was a reading to undertake, and we went about the art of doing that. Have I mentioned yet that poetry and beaches are two of my favorite things in life?

Cathleen the host started us off with a moment of meditation and reflection, striking a note on a beautiful Buddhist singing bowl. There were about 15 people in attendance when the bowl’s note quieted, and she opened with an original poem. The Beach Poets had a round robin opening, that was loose, friendly, supportive and inclusive. Cathleen went around the circle inviting each attendee to read a piece, and there was banter and laughter in the good time vibes in between each reader.

After a round robin icebreaker, Cathleen introduced our feature, and Heine took over for the next 20 minutes or so, reading from his new book Street Corner Spirits. This is my second time seeing him read live, and he’s my pal, so take all of this how you will, but Westley Heine has a reading style that combines well with his many years of experience spent hustling entertainment from street corner busking to jamming at Chicago’s Blues Fest, and he’s given performances from California to Chicago, and dozens of hopeless spots in between. All of that artistic grit comes through, and he’s able to keep your attention both on the written page, and while reading poetry on a noisy Sunday afternoon beach.

The Beach Poets attendance would grow to over two dozen by the time Wes was finished reading, as Chicago poets braved bustling Chicago commutes. Wes got a big round of applause that got the attention of beach goers within a 150 yard radius, as the reading reset and settled for one more round robin of poems. There were 20 beach chairs in a haphazard circle and some blankets spread out on the edge, and even two dogs in attendance. Me and both dogs made friends, as often happens when we meet, and I was glad to get a dozen doggie kisses and a few fluffy hugs over the next half hour, as I sat on a blanket listening to a happenstance circle of diverse poet voices that featured beautiful heart rendering sonnets and Martian attack group participation poems that brought out the fun and laughter. I read my poem “I Want to Breathe Free,” the one that Rose of Sharon Press turned into my first and only broadside. It’s one of my best pieces of poetry, and I wanted to leave this group of talented new friends with something to remember me by, and I think I did all right. A few attendees told me later that it was one of the most powerful poems they’d ever heard read, and this at a reading that’s hosted thousands of poets over its 33 year history. You can see why I still got the warm fuzzies a week later.

There was a hint of a sprinkle as the meeting wound down, and Cathleen ended the reading by passing the hat to support the feature, and a funny tale and rendition of an original poem about the beach being closed. Apparently in it’s earlier days, The Beach Poets met in the evening, and it would run late, and a Chicago cop would drive by announcing that the beach was closing. In the insane hilarity of a closing a beach, how do you close a Lake exactly? A great one at that. And the whole group laughed, and posed for a group photo, then Wes got mobbed signing and selling a few copies of his books, and I got some wonderful hugs from new poet friends, and more doggie kisses from my new four-legged ones. I spent a few minutes picking Wes’ brain for book selling ideas, as he is an artist that’s always out there most days of the week chasing book sales, and new artist opportunities, and he’s got a blue collar work ethic to his hustle that I admire. A testament to surviving dozens of crap jobs he’s held over the years while supporting and chasing his creative dreams.

After one last hug, and plans to meet up without the elements of surprise the next time I’m in Chicago, next month by the way, I got the remaining kids and my tribe loaded into my new old truck, and I took them all to Portillo’s, a world famous Chicago restaurant chain that’s always been one of my go to places every time I’m in the Windy City. I get a Chicago dog, and an Italian beef sandwich every visit, two things Portillo’s is famous for, those and their chocolate cake supposedly made with mayonnaise, and their thick milkshakes which bring the boys, and everyone else in the Chicago area, to their large restaurants that are chock full of Chicago history and memorabilia. The perfect treat after a poetry reading on a beach.

You ought to consider a day trip to Chicago on a Sunday, where you could hit up a bookstore in the morning, read poetry on a scenic beach, and eat at any number of world famous restaurants, and still be home in Toledo by 10pm eastern. Or I think next time, I might just pack a lunch, take a beach blanket and a radio. and spend the day on the beach, with a poetry interlude in the afternoon.