Cruising the Strip in Berwyn

Childhood: the period of human life intermediate between the idiocy of infancy and the folly of youth — two removes from the sin of manhood and three from the remorse of age.

--Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary

From Adams Street, Route 66 turns south onto Ogden Avenue, a wide thoroughfare that makes a beeline through the suburbs of South Chicago. As we cruise the Strip, we note the colorful murals in Lawndale, an enormous rail yard in Cicero, and famous 66 landmarks like Lulu's Hot Dogs and Henry's Drive-In--both still serving the top dogs in Chicagoland since the fifties.

A seagull flies overhead just above the roof of the car, insisting on our attention. I recall the image of the gulls bobbing on the lake in the marina, and I realize that Seagull is offering to be a totem guide for our journey: a spiritual messenger encouraging us to go with the flow, be open to different viewpoints, and communicate our experience.

A light rain is falling. A white mist shrouds the scenery as if we are entering another dimension. It feels like we are driving through a dream, or back in time. 

In Berwyn, I notice a prime example of Art Deco architecture on the corner of Ogden and Wenonah Avenue. The large neon sign reads Berwyn's Toys & Trains. It would probably be a good idea to walk off breakfast at Lou Mitchell's, so we stop for a photo op. We park on Wenonah and amble up to the nifty Route 66 historical marker near the front entrance on Ogden. I take some photos of the handsome building and its wall murals. I am so captivated by this little treasure chest that I have to have a peek inside. 

Berwyn's Toys & Trains

Remember when you just couldn't wait to see what Santa Claus left you under the Christmas tree? Well, here's where Santa stores all of that loot during the rest of the year. This store stocks everything from marbles to massive train sets.

The store is like a time machine, transporting me back to my childhood. There on a rack is the six-shooter and holster I wore as a six-year-old cowgirl; there on a shelf sit plush toys of my favorite storybook characters, Curious George and Madeline. 

An entire aisle of plastic model kits conjures the smell of glue and the feel of sticky fingers which pieced together several cars, ships, and airplanes. Another whole aisle stocks Barbie dolls, play-sets, playhouses, cars, and clothes galore (which I used to drool over); they even have the vintage Mercedes-Benz convertible that drove my Barbie and Ken around on many dates. 

Racks of Hot Wheels and balsam gliders, jars of catseyes and shooters, and shelves of Legos and Lincoln Logs evoke happy days playing with my kid brother. The aisle of Breyer Animal Creations reminds me of the love my sister and I shared for horses and our bookshelf stables of Breyer equine beauties. The shelves of board games (Checkers, Parcheesi, Chutes and Ladders, Clue, Monopoly, Scrabble) conjure fun-filled game nights with family and friends.

This place is like a museum—only better because you're encouraged to touch everything!

But that's not all. Entering the Train Room is like boarding The Polar Express. This room contains the toys that I only dreamed about as a child: electric trains. The walls are stocked with everything a young engineer needs to get a railroad up and running: engines, rolling stock, buildings, and countless accessories. Floor-to-ceiling shelves showcase a full product line of O Gauge and H.O. Electric Trains. 

The centerpiece is the 25-foot model train layout with passenger and freight trains chugging on separate tracks through Woodland Scenics to Plasticville USA, which is populated with Arttista Figures. The layout looks much like the one my sister’s husband built in the basement of their duplex back in the sixties. Just as I was back then, I am mesmerized by this idyllic scale-model world, watching the trains go ‘round and ‘round with timepiece perfection.

This is what the Mother Road is all about: a trip through time, reliving the important milestones of our lives.

“We should probably get back on the road,” T says, dispelling my reverie.

On our way out, I speak with the owner, Larry, who is seated behind the cash register.

"It's like a museum!" I say, recounting with enthusiasm some of the many items that returned me to yesteryear.

"Well, everything is for sale," he gently reminds me.

Larry also tells me that Berwyn's Toys & Trains is a family owned toy and hobby shop, which has been located in Berwyn since 1992. The original location was on Harlem Avenue, but since 1998 they have occupied this historic building in the Route 66 district. The Art Deco structure was originally one of 43 Chevy dealerships along Ogden Avenue in the 1950s; from 1950 to 1998, the dealership stocked many of the same car models that are now sold as plastic model kits.

I ask if he is a member of the Illinois Route 66 Association, which might be able to help him market his store as a 66 landmark. He isn’t even aware of the organization, so I give him the Web address for the association. Before we leave, I hand Larry a $10 bill.

“What’s this for?” he asks.

"Museum admission."