It was hot as the insides of a steam boiler in Chicago's Northwestern Station; the noise was terrific. A band was playing and some of the fellows and their wives were singing The Old Grey Mare and some more were singing Hail! Hail! The Gang's All Here. Lean Jim Dowling bent over his tiny wife and yelled at her: "I'm not kidding. I'm just about sick with excitement. Think of all the wonderful things we're going to see."
Jim hit it right: it was going to be some party. The good old Chicago Teamsters' Joint Council had gotten two special...
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