A generation suffused by chaos, cars, and capricious.
The streetcar, transports you to the crumbling streets of determination, hope, and discovery.
The fall breeze whisks, storefronts painted delicately, and the overtaking smell of Old Milwaukee.

Haymarket Square:
The aroma of sweet candy swirls through your nose.
Eagerly unwrapping the clear packaging,
the sensation of a peppermint candy cane indulges in your mouth.
Children’s eyes, bright and hopeful, await a sticky surprise.
Laughter and conversation ring passed your now, new perked-up ears.

The Falk Co.:
The sweetness dissipates and the pungent smell of burning metal and wood takes over.
Determination and wonder flows through your soul of men hard at work,
as an irony taste on your tongue stings like when you lick a spoon.
Views of sweaty, bustling men appear in windows above.
Clink, crash, sizzle, burn.

Gran’s House:
Apple pie and chocolate chip cookies are the scent of lasting memories.
Grans soft, wrinkly hands wrap around you and her hug is warm enough to melt the winter,
and sweet treat sticks in your mouth, snuck by grandma so parents wouldn’t see.
Photos of old holiday remembrance scatter the home.
Soothing talks with Gran about book club and how she missed you. 

The Pfister Hotel:
Candles with a smell so strong it reminds you family Christmas around the fireplace.
Tracing the exquisite details embroidered in the chairs,
the hot meals are placed in china to embrace the taste of tradition and perfection.
You analyze the women, men, and children parading in and out through the revolving door.
Chatter and bells of workers and adults in profound thoughts fill the ballroom.

You’re transported back to the generation of chaos, cars, and capricious.
In the streetcar, the wind dies down, conversations come to a hold, smells of Milwaukee reappear,
and the projection of a sign, “Thank You, Please Come Again”.