Saturday, February 14, 2026 – Day 540

Saturday, February 14, 2026

Good morning, everyone. And Happy Valentine’s Day. 💝

A Dad Story My dad, Eugene, grew up in North Chicago, a blue-collar town built on grit and steel. It was a tight-knit community of Eastern European immigrants, many of whom spoke little or no English. They worked long, grueling hours in factories and mills with one shared dream: that their children would climb a rung higher on the ladder. Safer jobs. Cleaner hands. Brighter futures.

My grandparents carried that dream for their only son.

One day, my grandfather brought young Eugene to the steel mill where he worked. He didn’t need a long speech. The heat, the noise, the danger—those were messages enough. If you don’t take school seriously, this could be your path. That day stuck with my dad. He understood.

My grandfather, who immigrated from Poland, as a young man would say, an education is the best investment, because the government couldn’t take that from you.

After World War II, Eugene enrolled at Notre Dame for his undergraduate degree. From there, he went on to law school at Northwestern University in Evanston. That’s where life became complicated.

He was still living at home and commuting by train. Meanwhile, his mother and her siblings were running the family store and bar—Ratajacks. It was hard-earned income. They opened at 6:00 a.m. and stayed open until midnight, trying to catch every shift change from the nearby factories. When Uncle Al suffered a head injury and could no longer work, my grandmother needed help in the business. She turned to Eugene, because family was supposed to help family.

So by day, he was a law student. By night, he was tending bar.

Balancing midnight closings with early morning classes wasn’t easy. Most of his studying happened on weekends. During the week, he often fell behind on assigned readings.

One day in Contracts class, there was a pop quiz on a case Eugene hadn’t had time to read. He failed it. The professor asked him to stay after class and warned him he was in danger of failing the course. My dad explained his situation—working nights to support the family business—and then did something bold. He asked if he could complete extra credit to make up for the quiz. And not just once. He asked for ongoing extra assignments, knowing there would be future weeks when he couldn’t keep up with the reading.

The professor agreed.

From then on, whenever Eugene couldn’t fully participate in a case discussion, he would quietly stay after class and hand over another completed extra credit assignment. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t glamorous. But it worked.

That’s how he got through law school—one train ride, one late night, one extra assignment at a time.

Gene went on to build a successful law practice in Waukegan, where he became well known and deeply respected. And in retirement, he never really stopped being a lawyer. He helped old friends from his North Chicago days—often pro bono—offering advice, drafting documents, settling disputes. He never forgot where he came from.

Hard work. Quiet persistence. Loyalty to family.

Have a great Saturday and don’t forget your honey.

Love you guys.❤️