|Rings (Metropolitan Museum of Art)|
Two days after Valentine's Day, Liane Troy went to the 10 o'clock water aerobics class at the East Bank Club. Afterward, she was on her way to a meeting of the Foundation for Women's Cancer when she saw something glistening in the melting snow by the bus stop at Orleans and Hubbard.
She picked it up, wrapped it in a napkin, threw it in her purse, and went about her day.
A couple days later, the retired educator noticed the napkin, which she had forgotten about. She rinsed off what was inside: not a piece of costume jewelry, but a 14k gold lady's ring, bristling with diamonds.
"My parents were in the jewelry business," she told me later. "E.S. Ford Jewelry on North Avenue. So I knew it was something that was important to someone."
Troy inquired at the Starbucks across from the bus stop. She stopped in the 18th District police station. Nothing.
A friend suggested she go to social media but, as a lady of a certain age, she wasn't going to do that.
"Being 60 plus, I'm not sure how to go about doing that and reaching the right person in the vast Chicago Metropolitan area," she wrote to me. "Any suggestions?"
Hmm ... What's that old saying? "To a hammer everything looks like a nail?" To a newspaper columnist, every situation calls for a column.
Or does it? The Sun-Times not the local shopper. One lost ring will draw other requests. The forehead-slapping carnival of confusion that is our daily politics will go unremarked upon for a day.
And yet here is one woman who had found this ring, and feels it is important to do something. Plus the possibility of some unknown person out there who may have lost it under circumstances mysterious.
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