I scared myself silly the other night on a Gangsters and Ghosts walking tour of Chicago.
The evening was frosty a slurry of snow and rain swirling through the air and the scene eerie, a deserted walkway along the Chicago River, dark waters lapping at the bank. My tour guide, Lauren, told spine-chilling tales about jilted lovers, murderous masterminds and fires that killed hundreds as we moved from the river to other spirited hot spots downtown.
“Why do you enjoy telling such grim stories?” I asked.
”I’m a history buff with a master’s degree,” she said. “I love the stories. And Chicago has a lot of scary ones.”