Flashback 2006: Defeat of flag-burning ban a victory for freedom

     We couldn't stop by the Round the Clock Family Restaurant on our quick weekend trip to Ohio — two dogs in the car. But we certainly thought about it, for reasons this column makes clear.

OPENING SHOT

     With the Fourth of July a few days off, American flags have sprouted along parade routes and downtown streets. If the colors seem not quite as bright this year, the reds a little duller, the blues less true, you might be feeling the chill of the close victory that our flag, and the freedom it represents, eked out in the Senate last week, as the bill that would have allowed the banning of flag burning went down 66-34.
     One vote would have swung it the other way.
     Too close for comfort. Though no more frightening than a dozen other ways American ideals have been carelessly compromised in the name of expediency by this administration.
     Why do those who clearly doubt the ability of this country to thrive while adhering to long-established principles always insist they are the most patriotic? Perhaps because they know, deep down, they are committing an act of betrayal. That the flag is most glorious when respected — or not respected — out of free will. That this country is strongest when its laws are respected, even by those in power.

DON'T MAKE ME STOP THIS CAR!

     We left early — 7 a.m. A long weekend road trip to Cleveland. The idea was to slip out of town before rush hour and grab breakfast in the wilds of Indiana.
     About 9 a.m., a sign suggested "McDonald's," and while I normally avoid the place, the boys had been so good, why not give them a treat?
     "Who wants breakfast at McDonald's?" I enthused, bracing for shouts of glee from the back seat.
     "McDonald's makes me nauseous,'' groaned the 9-year-old.
     Not quite the "Oh boy gee whiz thanks!" I had expected.
     "You're right," I said. "McDonald's makes me nauseous, too."
     So we pulled off at LaPorte to explore. There, in the midst of five chain links — McDonald's, KFC, Subway, Taco Bell, A&W Root Beer — was one hand-painted sign: Round The Clock Family Restaurant.
     Rule No. 1 for road trips: Always choose the local place; they survive for a reason.
     We were rewarded with an experience that entered family lore, from the chatty, "Where are you folks from?" waitress to the sizzling hot pork chops (yes, I know).
     The tables sported paper placemats where local businesses advertised — Tom's Landscaping and Hugo A. Bamberth, attorney at law, and the LaPorte County Public Library. The bathrooms could be grafted on to the new El Trendo restaurant in Lincoln Park and not seem out of place: retro tile floors, slate green walls, a stainless steel sink. Immaculate. That really impressed me because most restaurant bathrooms look like the floor of the Cook County medical examiner's autopsy room after a plane crash.
     We liked the restaurant so much we decided, on the return trip home, to delay lunch two hours so we could eat there again. Qualifying us for the Early Bird Special, meaning that my BBQ ribs, mashed potatoes (don't say it — I was on vacation) and Rosa Maria soup cost $5.09.
     "This is the best restaurant!" said the 9-year-old.
     "Maybe this could be a tradition," suggested his brother.
     Maybe.

SAME LOCATION FOR 32 YEARS . . .

     "I'm a family practitioner, like your family doctor," said Hugo A. Bamberth, the lawyer on the restaurant placemat. "I do adoption to zoning — A to Z. There are always things you choose not to do  — drug cases, child molesters, things like that."
     Some lawyers take pride in the gigantic settlements they've won or the appearances before the U.S. Supreme Court they've made. Bamberth is not one of those.
     "I'm unusual in that I have been in the same address and same phone number for 32 years," he said. "I feign a yawn when I talk about my exciting legal career. To some, I suppose it has been boring. For me it has been very steady."
     I've spoken to a lot of lawyers in my day, and they tend to be circumspect — they won't tell you their favorite flavor of ice cream without considering the matter from every angle, and sometimes not even then. Bamberth isn't like that. I asked him if he gets much business from the place mats.
     "I do," he said. "Because we have Hudson Lake, Fish Lake, Pine Lake, Stone Lake, we have a lot of Chicago weekend folks that have cabins or fishing cottages or whatever and come down here regularly on weekends in the nice weather. One weekend, two of your Chicago firemen had a little too much to drink and got arrested — my recollection is they ran off the road. Nobody got hurt, but they really didn't need that. They gave me a call, and I represented them in those matters."
     Bamberth was in no hurry whatsoever, and we spoke at length in pleasant fashion. He said that LaPorte was a wonderful place to raise his two daughters — Kristen Ulery, now an assistant principal at Gemini Middle School in Niles, and Wendy Bamberth, a fifth-grade teacher in Bensenville.
     "It's just a nice small town," he said.

SPEAKING OF SMALL TOWNS

     We went to Cleveland for my parents' 50th anniversary. Hoping to add interest for the boys, I tacked on an Indians game at Jacobs Field and a day at Cedar Point, the amusement park, where I discovered that one of the joys of roller coasters is that it is impossible to be detached while riding one. Nothing eliminates critical distance or banishes cynicism like being fired at 120 m.p.h. into a 400-foot hill, as we were in the Top Thrill Dragster.
     I almost pointed out to the boys that roller coasters are a good metaphor for life in general — long spans of boredom endured for a few moments of pleasure. But I figured, they'll find out soon enough.

TODAY'S CHUCKLE

     Before he rang off to see to a client, Bamberth told this joke:
     During the first Gulf War, Gen. Norman Schwarzkopf is walking in the Iraqi desert.
     He kicks something in the sand, bends down, and discovers it is a brass lamp, which of course he rubs. Out pops a genie.
     "I can grant you any wish you like," says the genie.
     Schwarzkopf removes a map of the Middle East from his back pocket.
     "I'd like everlasting peace throughout this region," says the general.
     "You've picked the one thing that even I cannot do," confesses the genie, with a sigh. "Could you pick a second choice?"
     "Well . . . ," says the general. "It would be nice if the Cubs could finally win a World Series."
     The genie looks stricken.
     "On second thought," he says, "let me see that map again."
                             —Originally published in the Sun-Times, July 2, 2006

Round The Clock Family Restaurant did indeed become a Steinberg family tradition. From 2023.