“You’re in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here.” – Sarah McLachlan

Janice’s grade school picture from Villa Middle

Janice Christine Winike, (May 6, 1958 – November 21, 2011) was the fifth child of Robert and Corinne Winike. She is survived by seven siblings: Robert, Steven, Thomas, Phyllis, Holly, Anthony, and Lori; as well as nephews Robin, Dominick, Jared and Robert, nieces Lindsay and Ashley; grand nieces Gracie and Ava, and grand nephew, Tyler.

Since our sister’s passing my siblings and I have been sharing many memories about our family. In particular, I want to thank Phyllis for helping to edit and compose this blog; without her, publishing the blog would not be possible. Holly, Tony, and Lori all contributed suggestions and ideas through emails and phone calls to me – in addition to helping with funeral arrangements and a service at Janice’s gravesite with Fr. Joseph Mills from Westchester Community Church on Dec 5, 2011. My brother Steve and I spent hours on the phone the past couple of weeks, recalling and verifying details that I incorporated into the blog. It’s a fitting labor of love that I hope will convey our family’s respect and reverence for Janice’s memory.

Janice was the first Winike baby to be born in Villa Park, Illinois. The Winike family moved from the Taylor neighborhood on Chicago’s West Side during the late winter of 1958. Villa Park is a suburb of Chicago in Du Page County, but was largely undeveloped in the 1950s. The population was approximately 10,000, and didn’t really expand until the mid-Sixties.

Winike siblings surround grandpa (Gilbert Guy Del Principe) in a visit to Portland, Oregon approx 1979. Front row left to right: Janice, Phyllis, Holly, Lori. Back row left to right: Tony, Tom, Steve, Rob

When we moved there, our house sat at the top of a hill on Villa Avenue,
surrounded by open fields. Villa Park’s claim to fame was an Ovaltine
factory in the center of the “business” section, a few streets with small
stores and one bank. When  <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ovaltine> Ovaltine
owners established their factory, they needed a way to make sure their
employees could get to and from work safely, no matter the weather, terrain
or other issues. Villa Park was built originally for that reason. It was one
of a number of suburbs directly west of downtown Chicago that flourished as
a result of the electric  <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interurban>
interurban line, the
<http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chicago_Aurora_and_Elgin_Railroad> Chicago
Aurora and Elgin Railroad. That railroad closed in 1957, and commuters like
Dad drove a long distance on Roosevelt Road to work in Chicago. Roosevelt
connected with what was originally called the Congress Expressway but in the
1960s became the Eisenhower Expressway. It was a brutal commute for Dad and
Grandpa in the winter, with always the promise of icy conditions and
perilous snow drifts.

That first winter in Villa Park, when Mom was pregnant with Janice, was by
far the hardest. We moved into a house that was merely a shell, with walls
and hardwood floors, but no insulation or sheet rock on the internal walls.
Dad and Grandpa worked their regular jobs, Dad a delivery driver for a
diaper service company and Grandpa a factory worker for General Printing
Ink, then worked on the house nights and weekends.

Without storm windows and storm doors, the cold air pierced the rooms through every crack and seam in the house. The front door iced over, making it unusable, and snow crept in under the door, covering half the door with a sheet of thick white ice.  We were also plagued with basement floods during the winter and after wicked spring wind storms. The power would go out, and the sump pump would stop working, and soon the water in the basement started to rise. I remember one night, the second year we lived there, after the power had been out nearly a week, opening the basement door and shining a flashlight down on foamy, muddy water coming halfway up the stairs. Dark,
freezing, swirling water, with boxes floating on top – a nightmare!  Eventually Grandpa bought a gasoline generator to keep the water at bay, but we still experienced floods into the Sixties, even after we’d built a bedroom in the basement that we boys shared with Grandpa.

But finally the first spring arrived, and in May of 1958, Janice was born, at Elmhurst Hospital. She was baptized at St. Pius X Catholic Church, where I attended grade school in Third Grade. Villa School had not yet been built, so Mom kept Steve home that year instead of sending him to Kindergarten. The following year, 1959, Villa School opened and I transferred to Fourth Grade there. Steve started First Grade that fall.

Janice

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“Sweet freedom whispered in my ear
You’re a butterfly
And butterflies are free to fly
Fly away, high away, bye bye…”

— Elton John, “Someone Saved My Life Tonight,” from Captain Fantastic And The Brown Dirt Cowboy, 1975

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Villa Park’s schools were rapidly expanding to accommodate new students as more families built homes and the subdivision grew. Foundations were poured on both sides of our lot and within a year families had moved into new homes. The Rio family, two doors down from us, eventually became our childhood friends and also attended St. Pius. In 1959 Willowbrook High School opened to alleviate massive overcrowding at York High in nearby Elmhurst, eventually enrolling 1,950 students. Further growth required an addition at Willowbrook only three years later. Between 1950 and 1970, Villa Park grew from 8,821 to 25,891 residents.

But in those early years it seemed like a farm town, especially to those of us in the family who were used to living in a crowded tenement in a highly ethnic Italian-American neighborhood. When we first moved there, Villa Park had no supermarkets and few services, only a volunteer fire department. During the winter of 1959, a horse barn caught fire less than ¼ mile from our house. I remember Dad taking us boys to see the blaze. We could hear the horses screaming and watched in horror as the barn collapsed around them because there was no one to put out the flames.

There were a few businesses that we patronized right from the start. I remember a deli we called the “Dago Store” where we bought fresh Italian sausage and Italian Beef sandwiches. There was a small food market on Roosevelt, the only quick market within walking distance. We found a classic pizza joint right off, County Inn Pizza, where we bought pizzas for more than 30 years – too many to count! The owner, an Italian man named Tony, told us one time he reckoned that he’d served more than a million pizzas from his little hut. There was a bowling alley that we frequented often for both bowling and shooting pool. But for weekend entertainment, you couldn’t beat our local drive-in theater, called the Sky-Hi, which opened in 1938 and was a landmark. Eventually a supermarket opened in the business section of town, an A&P, across the street and down the block from a Ben Franklin Five and Dime general store.

Early in the 60s, a giant toy store called Dispensa’s opened, which became an integral part of our family’s Christmas traditions. Later we discovered Al’s Smoke Shop, which sold candy, smokes, and comic books – and still does.  There was a Howard Johnson’s restaurant on Roosevelt Road, and a Cock Robin ice cream parlor on St. Charles Road where we relished tri-colored sherbet cones. Later we would patronize a Dog ‘N Suds, and A&W Root Beer stand. At some point, a McDonald’s opened, followed by a Portillo’s Hot Dog wagon, which evolved into a restaurant and then a chain of hot dog and beef sandwich restaurants.

Front row left to right: Rob (holding Robin), Mom, Steve, Tony. Back row left to right: Tom, Holly, Janice, Phyllis

Villa Park had a swimming pool and a library, and we kids hung out there on many summer days. There was one doctor, one dentist, one optical center. One gas station on the corner of Roosevelt and Ardmore Roads serviced local residents. Dad and Grandpa were careful to anticipate when they needed to purchase gas, because the station was closed when Dad left for work early in
the morning or when Grandpa came home late at night, and it was a very long ride into the city without seeing a fueling station. That station would later be hit by a tornado and lifted off its foundations, which we witnessed from the foyer of the high school.

Because there weren’t many kids within walking distance of our house, we Winike kids were tight with each other. Especially in the early years there. Sometimes the power would go out, and we’d gather around the kitchen table and play board games for hours, sometimes by the light of a hurricane lamp or even a few candles. Wahoo was popular, but we got a lot of board games for Christmas and were always eager to try something new. Others that I remember playing together were: Clue, Monopoly, Easy Money, Chinese Checkers, Mouse Trap, Scrabble and Scrabble Junior, Booby Trap,
Concentration, Candyland, Cootie Game, and the Fascination Maze Game.

The girls remember playing “store” with Mom’s canned goods, and we boys had fun with trains, Gilbert Erector Sets, and Lincoln Logs. Many Christmas Eve nights Dad would stay up late putting together cardboard kitchen sets for the girls, and they loved playing on Christmas day with their Easy Bake Ovens and Suzy Homemaker kitchen sets. They’d also get Frosty Sno Cone Makers, but by summer, when we really needed them, they were usually broken or missing pieces!

Christmas was the lodestar event for our family. We’d eagerly await the Sears Ideabook in the mail, and pour through it, composing our wish lists.  Mom started putting items on lay-away at Dispensa’s as soon as our fall school clothes were paid for. How she managed to balance a budget that included a mortgage and utilities, $50 a week for food, school clothes and shoes, and such an abundance of Christmas presents has always amazed me. She told us Dad brought home $80 a week, and with Grandpa’s second income, rent he paid for a bedroom that he shared with us boys, we somehow made it. When Dad changed jobs to a six-day delivery route with Jiffy Spuds and brought home $100 he celebrated like he was king of the world.

We usually all got ice skates for Christmas, and we all have memories of skating at the pond next to the Villa Park Pool. Dad would drive us over, break out his snow shovel, and with some of the other fathers, clear a section of ice for us to twirl around on. Later he built an ice skating rink in our back yard. We always had sleds, both the steel runner kind, and the round saucer type. Many times I remember helping the little ones bundle up in their snow suits, mittens, scarves and boots, one kid after the other, then having one come back into the house 15 minutes later to announce, “I gotta go to the bathroom!” and having to start the whole process over again.

Front row left to right: Phyllis, Grandma Grace (daddy’s mother) holding Holly, Janice. Back row left to right: Steve, Rob, Tom

Our Villa Park house filled up fast when Holly, Tony and Lori came along,
especially after Grandpa and Dad built an apartment on the second floor for Grandma Grace and Papa Joe. It was wonderful having us all under one roof, but our poor septic tank could hardly stand the strain. We often had a giant swamp in the back yard during the summer, which couldn’t be mowed or played near. Still, the memory of Papa Joe stays with us forever, him dancing the Twist with us while waiting for the BBQ to heat up.

Summers were the most fun. We swam at the pool, hung out at the YMCA, and took swimming lessons. Sometimes Dad, Mom, and Grandpa would drive us up to the lakes in Antioch, Lake Marie and Lake Catherine, for beach play, and usually, painful sun burns. We had plenty of empty lots to play baseball in, but our favorite time was to challenge the Rio kids to a backyard game of whiffle ball. Dad and Grandpa put in a horse shoe pit and could be heard clanging metal every Saturday night after a BBQ of burgers and chicken.

Grandpa hand-built a giant swing set the first summer we were there, from heavy pipe he got from his friend Louis, who worked for the B&O Railroad.  Like everything in our back yard, it was painted Army green. Always looking for ways to keep us active outdoors, he later added a huge sand box, which brought us hours of play. I also remember the girls played for hours at tether ball. At night we’d play kick the can (a form of hide and seek,)
catch fire flies in jars or whack them out of the air with tennis rackets.  We loved to play croquet, and even played it after dark. Eventually when it was too dark to see a ball of any kind, we sometimes would gather around a fire in Grandpa’s garbage barrel to roast marshmallows or make s’mores, and sometimes roast wieners on a stick, or bake potatoes in tin foil. Grandpa always had something to burn in his barrel every night, without fail.

Janice, Holly, Phyllis, Steve and Tom with our Slip N Slide

We always had above-ground swimming pools, our only relief from scorching
100-degree summer days, and Chicago’s searing humidity. God only knows how
many pool liners, filters, water pumps, and heaters Grandpa went through
keeping us swimmingly cool. We also had tons of fun with Slip ‘n’ Slides
stretched out across the back lawn, and there are many 8mm home movies
Grandpa took of us cavorting and belly flopping across the yard. He bought
the little ones a metal roller coaster that brought many summers of fun
until, like so many scooters and bikes left out in the rain, rusted away and
had to be taken “Down East” to dump in the garbage.

Spring and summer also meant treasured trips to Wrigley Field. Grandpa might get itchy for some baseball in May, and whisper, “Go tell your mother you’re staying home sick today,” and we knew that meant we were going to a Cubs game. Lori remembers how, when we’d say, “I don’t feel good enough for school today…” Mom would smile, cook up a batch of hot dogs, pack them into thermos bottles with hot tomato soup, and we’d be on our way to watching Ernie Banks, Billy Williams and Ron Santo from the bleachers. Two things we could always count on: the next morning there would be a logjam at the back door waiting for mom to furiously write notes to our teachers; and if the Cubs lost, which they usually did in the Sixties, Grandpa would say, “Bah! Those lousy Cubs!”

He complained about the Cubs plenty, but don’t try to change channels on the TV during an afternoon game. Holly remembers how Grandpa would be stretched out in the sun on his recliner chair, appearing to be taking a siesta, when we’d come in from our summer swims, wanting to watch our favorite afternoon shows. But the slightest click of the TV dial would rouse him, “Hey! I’m watching the Cubs there!” The Cubs could be losing 20 to nothing, but the TV stayed tuned to WGN.

Grandpa was a huge movie fan, and frequently took us to the Sky-Hi for lateweekend movies. The girls remember going in their pajamas, and because the movies never started until after dark, sometimes after 9:00 PM, they often fell asleep in the back of his Ford station wagon. We all remember playing on the amusement rides in front of the screen, though, and laughing through a full hour of cartoons before the movie began.

Grandpa and Mom took us on long trips in August, to visit Auntie Phyllis and our cousins in Springfield, Massachusetts. Crowded into his station wagon and on the road for hours on end, we played with coloring books, Etch-a-Sketch, and Lie Detector. The girls always had any number of different dolls to play with, including Mrs. Beasley, Chatty Cathy, and Miss Cookie’s Kitchen with Colorforms utensils. At night we’d show “movies” on
the back window of Grandpa’s station wagon with a Give a Show Projector.

Once we arrived at Auntie’s house, it was a whole new world to explore, with deep western Massachusetts Woods tobacco fields, and underground forts. The nights were stifling hot and we’d all sleep on cots on her enclosed front porch. Sometimes we’d all drive to Cape Cod and get to swim in the Atlantic Ocean, amazed that we were unable to sink like we did in the cold water of the Antioch lakes.

TV was a big part of our family time. We’d rush home from school for our favorite shows, like The Ray Rayner Show, which started out in 1962 as Breakfast With Bugs Bunny. It became Ray Rayner & His Friends in 1964.  Sprinkled in between Bugs Bunny cartoons and Diver Dan shorts were trips to the Lincoln Park Zoo, chats with Cuddly Duddly and visits from Chelveston the duck. We boys never missed a chance to cackle at the Three Stooges and Soupy Sales.

WGN-TV also entranced us with Bozo’s Circus and The Dick Tracy Show. Frazier Thomas gave us Garfield Goose & Friends on channel 4 at 4:30 in the afternoon directly opposite WNBQ Channel 5 and NBC’s Howdy Doody Show, with Buffalo Bob. Besides Garfield there was Romberg Rabbit, Macintosh Mouse, Christmas Goose (Garfield’s nephew who always popped up during the holidays, and the hilarious Beauregard Burnside III, chief of the Secret Service, who could only be aroused from a deep slumber by yelling into his ear “Hot Dogs! Hamburgers! Spaghetti and Meatballs!” We also loved visits from Mama Goose, who hailed from Goose Jaw, Saskatchewan, and held a purple belt in karate.
Occasionally Ali Gator would show up to scare everyone and Thomas would have
phone conversation with the unseen and unheard Mrs. McGillicuddy. We learned
to use our fiery imaginations!

At Christmas he regaled us with the nostalgic Christmas shorts Suzy Snowflake, HardRock Coco & Joe and Frosty The Snowman. We also loved the Bozo Show, which first went on the air in 1960. It was 30 minutes long and consisted of cartoons introduced by WGN television personality Bob Bell. In 1961, the show was expanded to an hour and was renamed Bozo’s Circus. It featured The Grand Prize Game, which we played at home with our own ping pong balls and glass containers, and “magic arrows” were added in 1962. Bozo was the most famous Chicago kid’s figure of all. In addition to Bob Bell as Bozo, the original cast included Ned Locke as the ringmaster, Ray Rayner as Oliver and Don Sandburg as Sandy.

Christmas specials were sure to gather us all in front of the TV, especially since during Christmas breaks from school we could stay up late. We loved to watch Perry Como and the Andy Williams Christmas specials. We sang along with Mitch. We watched Bing and Danny, Margaret O’Brien, Jimmy Stewart and Clarence the angel.  Like all other kids we made a tradition out of watching Rudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer, A Charlie Brown Christmas, and The Grinch Who Stole Christmas together. But The Little Drummer Boy added a little religion when it was needed. Grandpa was a big fan of Lawrence Welk (we were not) but I liked watching the Lennon Sisters sashay around in their party
dresses.

Phyllis and Janice

Dolls were a perennial favorite with the girls, and I remember Phyllis and
Janice playing with giant 31-inch Mary Ellen dolls that could wear clothes
that had been outgrown by toddlers in our family. There were Betsy Wetsy
dolls, and nurse’s kits, and toy cradles and strollers of every size.

We always had a Christmas tree, whether fir, flock, or aluminum, mounted in a revolving stand, with Christmas music playing on one of the monstrous record players Grandpa would buy from one of the early department stores in the area. Of those, I remember Wiebolt’s, Goldblatt’s, Korvette, Polk Brothers, and eventually, Community Discount, where Mom worked at her first job ever.

Many nights  I remember seeing Dad sitting in his lounging chair, in front of the Christmas tree, with all the house lights off, watching the color lights twinkle off the slowly spinning ornaments. I’d get up to get a glass of water, and thinking he was asleep, leave the kitchen cupboard door open. Halfway down the hall, I’d hear him call out, “Close the cabinet door, can’tcha?!” Nobody loved Christmas more than Dad. Unless it was Grandpa, who relished seeing our faces light up on Christmas morning. The big annual Christmas joke regarding him happened when we would ask him what he wanted
us to get him for a present. He’d think hard, then tell us what he’d decided. Later that day, he’d go out and buy it for himself!

Grandpa was a huge fan and expert at Western lore, pouring over Western novels and magazines, and watching every Western series on TV. When Bonanza started broadcasting in color in 1962, we were the first family we knew to have a color TV in our home. The girls idolized Annie Oakley, Dale Evans, and Penny from Sky King. Janice got an authentic Annie Oakley outfit for Christmas one year, and looked the part of a cowgirl down to her boots. We passed down plastic horses mounted on springs from one kid to another. The younger ones rode around the yard on Romper Room stick horses with foam plastic heads. That same year The Wonderful World of Disney started
broadcasting on Sunday nights in color, and we kids were hooked on Disney
characters and stories like Swiss Family Robinson, Pollyanna, Mary Poppins,
101 Dalmations, That Darn Cat, and The Absent Minded Professor.

Two years after we moved into our Villa Park house, Dad and Grandpa blacktopped the driveway and we kids finally had a smooth, wide surface to play on. A basketball hoop went up on the front of the garage that they built in 1960 for $2,000 complete, and was replaced by successively better hoops and backboards. It was easier to shovel the driveway without gravel, and blacktop issued in the era of the snow blower. With a snow blower and a can of either, Grandpa was a match for any Villa Park blizzard!

Janice at her high school graduation

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“And it seemed to me, you lived your life like a candle in the wind…”

— Elton John, “Candle In The Wind,” from Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, 1973

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A favorite summer activity for us was when adults would take us to one of Chicago’s amusement parks. Santa’s Village opened in 1959 as one of three Santa-themed parks in the United States. Kiddieland Amusement Park was an amusement park located in
<http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melrose_Park,_Illinois> Melrose Park, and featured classic rides like the Little Dipper roller coaster, the “Roto Whip” and a giant Ferris Wheel. Bumper cars were added in the 1960s and they replaced the original pony ride.

The Riverview Amusement Park was right up there with trips to the Brookfield
and Lincoln Park Zoo as our favorite Chicago outing. It was one of the most popular and famous amusement parks in the country, thrilling patrons for 64 seasons. The park added the Showboat in 1957, and a Wild Mouse coaster for the 1958 season. The Blue Streak coaster, the Skyrocket, was remodeled into the Fireball coaster in 1959 by removing the first double-dip drop and making the drop go about ten feet underground. The Space Ride was added for the 1963 season, which allowed the patrons to cross a section of the park
through the air. The midway featured little cubbies full of goodies like cotton candy and giant suckers, games of skill with gaudy prizes, and most importantly to me and my brothers, comic books. We seldom went home without a prize or souvenir, and fantastic memories of thrills and laughs.

Janice became a favorite student of Mr. Bollinger, the art teacher at the high school, who recognized her talent. She was skilled at sketching and painting. We are blessed to have one of her large paintings of Mt. Hood that she gave Mom, and has been passed along. She graduated from Willowbrook in the class of 1976.

Janice’s painting of Mt. Hood in Oregon

“Someday, God willing, we shall get ‘in’… We will put on glory… that greater
glory of which Nature is only the first sketch.” – C. S. Lewis

Janice didn’t take a shine to horses like Phyllis and her friends, but she became adept at tennis, and often could be seen hiking over the hill towards the tennis courts at Willowbrook. Janice loved music, and was usually carrying a portable cassette player, along with her custom made tapes of her popular favorites, which always included Elton John songs. Her favorite albums were Goodbye Yellow Brick Road and Captain Fantasticand the Brown Dirt Cowboy.

She loved to go to live concerts and art shows at Portland’s Saturday Market, and probably would have ended up pursuing a career in music or the arts except for the auto accident she was involved in during the late 1980s.

Janice and Mom

Janice spent 22 years in the Du Page Convalescent Center with a closed head injury. When I visited her there she would always get a tear in her eye when I was leaving, so I know she recognized and remembered me. Mom and Frank visited her often. She showed her pleasure when they brought her chocolate malts that she could sip through a straw. They would take her out for sun and fresh air in her wheelchair and she would turn her head to take in the sights, and smile as best she could.

The nurses there have said she was friendly to other patients, and sometimes held their hand and had a ready smile. She is greatly missed by all of us.

Our best hope and comfort is that now she is with Mom, Dad, and her beloved Grandpa in Heaven, resting in the arms of an angel, which is all any of us can hope for. God bless her spirit and the Lord be praised for all the wonderful memories she has given us, her brothers and sisters.

Fr. Joseph Mills

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