X Factor Contestant and Music Industry Phenom CeCe Frey Releases New Single “Little Hell”
On the North Side there is a district bounded by Larrabee street and the North Branch which has recently earned considerable notoriety by a horrible murder committed within its precincts. It is called by the police. Its inhabitants are not only poor but vicious, including some of the most turbulent characters in the city. Saloon-rows and stabbing affrays are not infrequent. And yet, a careful investigation shows that there is very little of real squalor and destitution in this neighborhood.
The houses, though rudely constructed one-story affairs, are comfortable, and from nearly every chimney a cloud of smoke ascending shows that the inmates are by no means reduced to the direct extreme of poverty. The men are mostly employed in the gas-house or other large establishments in that part of the city. Chicago, like other great cities, abounds in its vices which are peculiar to the extremes of social life. Their existence, however, is not definitely known to the majority of newspaper readers, or, at least, only suspected or known in a general way from the hints which are occasionally gleamed from the Police-Court reports.
Bust these indicate only particular cases of depravity, and not the state of society in a neighborhood, street, or a quarter. There are certain localities in the city which are the result of lazaroni sic ; there are others which form the regular stamping-ground of the light-fingered fraternity; still others which shelter desperadoes, and the perpetrators of all sorts of hideous integrity. There are dens, artfully constructed with underground passageways and secret doors for escape, with traps for unsuspecting victims, and yet presenting externally every evidence of respectability.
Many a citizen has no doubt often wandered where all the pickpockets, and burglars and garroters keep themselves during years of residence here they have not come across any specimens of these disreputable classes. They do not know that there are hundreds of men now in Chicago who never walk the streets by daylight, who carefully keep in their hiding-places until darkness sets in, when they sally forth to plunder, to rob, and perhaps worse.
The men who compose it do not let their light shine before men. They are not politicians, nor are they interested in the Moody and Saukey movement. They are very modest; even more so than their female associates, for there are many women who share with them their dangers and their spoils. Without them the thief would starve in his lurking-place, he would be pounced upon by the police without warning, and he would, above all, lose a valuable auxiliary in the way of obtaining useful information as to the whereabouts of desirable property.
It is not the purpose of this article to cover all the ground occupied by the lawless element of our population. To fully describe their habits and resorts would fill a volume, and would, no doubt, amaze the respectable citizens who pursue their accustomed vocations year after year without ever changing or dreaming of the mass of ignorance and want and wickedness that exists all around them. The average number of arrests at both Chicago Avenue and North Avenue Sub-Stations is not exceeding half a dozen, while fifty a day is not an uncommon number at the Union Street West Side Station, as well as at the Armory.
But that argues little. It is a fact that there are certain districts on the North Side, which contain, if nit the most dangerous, certainly some of the most vicious elements that can be found anywhere in the city.
First Look At Blake Shelton And Trace Adkins’ New Video For “Hell Right”
Probably no quarter of the city has a worse reputation than that which is called. It comprises portions of Rees, Penn, Pleasant, Wesson, and Vine streets, together with numerous crooked and densely-populated alleys which have no particular nomenclature. Scarcely a day passed without some knifing or shooting scrape. As many of the men wore heavy boots it was not unfrequent to hear of noses being crushed or bodies injured by boot-heels.
Sometimes by way of variety, ears and fingers would be bitten off.
Extra efforts were made by the police to secure peace, but they met with little success. The inhabitants of this minor Satanic domination were incorrigible, and they were finally left to themselves with only the usual guard of policemen. Numerous have been the burglars traced to their lairs in its precincts, and plunder has been frequently recovered which have been stowed snugly away in some presumably secure hiding place.
When arrested they were playing euchre by candle-light and sipping their grog, in the peace of fancied security. Rand McNally The German element is small. There are Irish, Bohemians, Poles, and Scandinavians. All these are of the poorest and most wretched class. They are the Communists who would like nothing better than to incite an open riot, and to plunder the town, on the poor pretense that they are down-trodden of the rougher natives, comprising desperate characters and professional outlaws.
Several are nothing more than lanes, having a width only sufficient for the passage of one vehicle. They are closely built up, without any apparent reference to lots, one shanty running into and abutting to another, and in the rear other shanties instead of barns. The sidewalks, where there are any, are irregular and dilapidated, and seldom run 20 yards on the same level.
The gutters are odorous with slops and othjer refise. The houses are, nearly without exception, of rough, unpainted boards, only one story in height, and contain not more than two rooms. Of course, there are more ambitious structures, whose first floor is devoted to the sale of groceries or liquors, while up-stairs is the dwelling of diverse families. Most of the huts abut on the street, although there are some instances where pretenses of a fence, and even of a front yard, are made.
Stovepipes are the most popular material for chimneys. In passing along Wesson street, a few days ago, the writer observed one enterprising citizen engaged in the arduous and novel task of erecting. That the innovation was regarded unfavorably by the rest of the population there could be no doubt, from the audible remarks of the crowd which had gathered in the alley to watch the unwonted sight.
The worker, however, pursued his occupation with dignified leisure, pausing only to relight his pipe, and utter a few genial imprecations upon the bodies and souls of the assembled audience. But I think he wanted to humor my ignorance and was most likely starving as well. So, dine in De Smet, we did—or at least we attempted to. But what did unnerve me were the silent stares from the locals as we were guided to our booth. In fact, most diners looked down, avoiding all eye contact.
The real shock came with the deliberate turning of backs as we settled into our booth. Every customer sitting near the front-windows across from us slowly, with purpose, turned their backs. The only courtesy extended to us, beyond the hostess seating us and supplying menus, was the waitress coming by to give us ice water and inquire about other drinks. We ordered coffee and waited. As the water level in our glasses got lower, we tried to hold onto the pleasant aura of our day. It was a struggle to maintain cheerful conversation as we watched those adjacent backs being delivered meals, paying bills, and heading out.
It was getting harder to ignore the truth. In pre-Amazon days it was easy to identify rural dwellers from city slickers simply by dress, as individuals in remote areas lacked easy access to the brand name stores readily found in metropolitan areas. The river of denial had become shallower and was beginning to dry up. I watched our waitress pick up meals from the kitchen and deliver them to tables.
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She would stop along the way to chat up a local or entice a child into play, intentionally avoiding eye contact and unapologetically ignoring any attempt from us to gain her attention. For over an hour we watched the activity of the diner, waiting patiently to finally get some kind of service or even an acknowledgment that we existed. It took my husband speaking the truth out loud to finally break the dam on my river of denial.
We should just go. I wanted to yell at them, complain to management, or just run from the restaurant. Instead, we calmly and silently got up from our booth, walked the length of the restaurant holding our heads high, and exited out the door without looking back. From the virtues she gained from her rural home, she has formed herself into a self-sufficient creative powerhouse in every aspect.
City And Colour ”Little Hell” | Indie88
Now with the completion of her debut record, you can hear the catharsis in every stomp, clap, and rasp in her powerhouse voice. Can you tell us how you transitioned into also becoming a music industry mogul and the inspiration behind starting Good Wolf Entertainment? When I started in this industry I was always doing everything myself out of necessity- planning my own shoots, making my own clothes, and building my own visuals to pair with my music.
Then other artists and friends started reaching out to me to do the same for them. I have been producing and creative directing music videos and photoshoots since I started in this business almost ten years ago. Then over the last year, I moved into directing which is definitely my second love after music.
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I plan to continue directing music videos and one day film as well. But music is definitely my number one priority. I am not going to risk not being taken seriously just to be on TV. How has it been different after finishing 6th place with millions of fans rooting you on? I still struggle in new ways every week, but I am a step closer to my dreams every single day.
Where does that confidence come from?
- Shadow Fade.
- A collection of songs that prove first impressions really can last forever.
- La noche de Catalina Virgen (Algaida Literaria - Algaida Xx) (Spanish Edition).
- Airbnb® | Little Hell - Vacation Rentals & Places to Stay - Virginia, United States.
- Emergence in Mind (Mind Association Occasional (Hardcover)).
The producers and editors had very clever tricks to twist things and make me look like a bitch. Am I over the top? Not quite. I am a boss. I just happen to be a woman as well- and a fierce one at that. But I am a loyal friend and I love people fiercely and wholly. Get up. Dust off. Kick more ass.