I recorded this interview with reporter Craig Dellimore at Chicago City Hall in 2018 and never posted the full transcript. I’m sharing it now as context for a newer audio interview, which you can listen to here. I wanted people to see what he experienced, and how he was treated.
How long have you been working here?
Well, at City Hall, I’ve been here doing the political editor’s job since 2001, so about 17 years. But I’ve been with WBBM Newsradio since 1983, so it’s been quite a while.
So you started when you were, like, ten?
You’re so kind. No, I was in my twenties and already pretty well into my career when I got here. It was a very different place then, and I arrived right when Harold Washington was starting to look like a serious candidate for mayor of Chicago.
How was it a different time? What was different?
So much has changed in Chicago politics in the last 35 years. What people thought of as the Democratic machine—the power structure that held the city for so long—was weakening. That’s why someone like Harold Washington could rise and become a formidable candidate.
My first assignment was man-on-the-street interviews after people felt Harold Washington won the first three-way debate between him, Richard M. Daley, and Jane Byrne.
On TV they always showed those chaotic meetings. Was it really that crazy in real life?
It really was that crazy. I wasn’t political editor then, but it was a wild time. Real battle lines were drawn. During the primary you had Daley, Jane Byrne—who had run against the machine but then became part of it—and Harold Washington, this upstart congressman.
When Washington became mayor, 29 aldermen banded together to block anything he wanted to do. People called them simply “the 29.” City council meetings were raucous—sometimes good-natured, sometimes bitter.
There was a Republican candidate, Bernard Epton, whose slogan was “Before It’s Too Late.” If that wasn’t a racial dog whistle, I don’t know what was. So the kind of racial and divisive politics people talk about today is nothing new.
So it really was racial? Were people saying racial things?
The candidates avoided overt racial statements, but regular people certainly made them. Harold Washington was good-humored, fearless, very bright, and well-spoken. He could be eloquent or plainspoken—saying things like, “Politics ain’t beanbag. It’s a tough game.” He was ready for it.
If someone shouted that they hated him, he would walk over and talk to them. There’s a photo in the press room of him smiling beside people holding anti-Harold Washington signs, and they’re smiling too. That was his power.
He was also the right candidate for the moment. African-American and Latino populations were growing, and lakefront liberals were looking for a champion. He might not have been perfect, but he was perfect for that time.
Did things ever calm down before he died?
Yes. After the initial turmoil, more African-Americans and more liberal aldermen were elected. Washington finally had the votes he needed. Unfortunately, he died way too soon. Even some of his opponents liked him.
I remember Edward Burke, the leader of the 29. There are recordings of him and Harold arguing on the council floor, but when one of them scored a point, they’d laugh. Burke once talked about winning money at the racetrack on a horse named Harold. Washington said he ought to get a cut. Burke said, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you—share the wealth.” They laughed and went back to work. Things had calmed down somewhat, and Washington was getting things done. Then that Thanksgiving week, he died.
He stayed that humorous and warm? It wasn’t just for campaigning?
No—he was genuinely funny. For about two years I was managing editor at WBBM, and around that Thanksgiving season he knew me because he did a monthly program called “Ask the Mayor.” He took calls from citizens and handled it wonderfully—he and Governor Jim Thompson were the two best at it.
One evening he came in and saw me working late. I told him I was managing editor now. He congratulated me and asked where my office was. I said I didn’t have one—I just sat at a desk. He asked if it meant more money. I said no. He leaned in and whispered, joking, “They do that to the first Black anything.” That was Harold—always funny, always accessible.
So you were the first Black managing editor?
Yes. But the station already had a history of diversity. I was the third African-American staffer at the time. It wasn’t treated like a historic event.
Did you have any problems in your job because of race?
No. Not at that point. Earlier in my career maybe, but not then. We were entering a new era. The bigger issue was covering the news fairly across all parts of the city.
What’s an example of being fair?
Crime coverage is always a struggle. If you cover every crime in an African-American neighborhood, you can make it look like a war zone. But if you ignore those crimes, you imply they don’t matter. And if someone is robbed downtown, we cover it; if someone is robbed on 47th Street, we should care equally. You balance it. You listen to what communities say matters to them—education, for example.
You said things were worse before the 80s. What did you mean?
We were coming out of the civil rights era and anti-war era. The riots happened in my lifetime. Newsrooms suddenly realized they had no Black reporters to send into Black neighborhoods, so they hired—but some people complained that hires were “just because they’re Black.” That attitude always exists.
When I was hired, I’m sure some people thought that. But I had worked at the AP for years. People knew my work.
How do you deal with doubters?
I ignore them. You erase doubt by doing your job well. I’m political editor—I’ve had a good career.
How did you get to this point?
By doing the work. I’ve had many jobs—legislative reporter, federal building, courts, Springfield. We used to send a reporter to Springfield weekly; for a while, that was me. Terrible drive—three hours of the flattest land you’ll ever see—but good experience.
I became suburban bureau chief. Funny title, because I was the only one in the bureau, but it worked.
What kinds of things did you cover in the suburbs?
Everything that happens downtown, but less noticed. Most listeners live in the suburbs. We launched the beat with a 15-part series on transportation. But transportation touches housing, poverty, homelessness, development.
If people work somewhere they can’t afford to live, they need transportation. People cleaning office buildings in the suburbs often can’t afford to live there.
We did a series on gangs. Yes, there are gangs in the suburbs. Naperville, which is usually low crime, has had a triple murder and a quadruple murder. Issues exist everywhere.
What about the relationship between suburbs and city?
It’s changed. Mayor Daley worked closely with suburban mayors—airport noise, transportation, rail corridors. Now there’s more isolation. Competition for federal dollars is tougher. Companies move into Chicago from the suburbs more often now.
Why are companies moving into the city?
Lifestyle, transportation, workforce, schools. People moved to the suburbs because the city felt too dangerous or too expensive. But affordable housing and lifestyle changes brought people back. On Friday night, do you want a long drive to a quiet suburb or to stay downtown?
The city is also marketing itself aggressively.
Is that because of the mayor?
Not just the mayor. Competition in general.
After the riots in the 60s, a lot of people left the city. Why?
Many reasons: crime, fear, schools. Chicago’s school system used to be considered one of the worst. Reforms improved it. Scores went up. Diplomas have more value. Some neighborhoods still lag, though. That’s why diverse newsrooms matter—you hear what communities are really concerned about.
How is New York different from Chicago?
Faster pace. Unique energy. I grew up there; we still visit yearly. In a disaster, New York is the place to be—New Yorkers see the problem and say, “Okay, let’s deal with it.”
Do you have an example?
During the big blackout in the 70s, traffic was snarled. Two guys drinking beer on folding chairs watched it, then put down their beers, walked into the street, and started directing traffic until everything flowed again. Classic New York.
It’s also dirty—because no alleys. Chicago is cleaner thanks to alleys.
Did you see looting during the blackout?
Yes. Opportunistic. Police couldn’t be everywhere. I was a news writer then. Hard-wired phones still worked. I walked miles to get to work. All hands on deck.
How did you end up coming here from New York?
Combination of things. I married someone going to law school in Washington. I moved there. Met people at CBS who pointed me to the AP. I worked there.
Years later, there was a prison riot at Sing Sing. Our reporter had been on the air nonstop. They sent me to relieve him. When I got back, Joe Durso—now news director at WBBM—had heard my coverage. He flew me out, showed me the station, and offered me a job. I accepted.
It really worked out for you—you have one of the coveted jobs.
It is fun. Mike Flannery once reacted to someone saying they should cover less crime and politics by saying, “This is the Vatican of politics.” Perfect description.
Chicago politics is rich, intense, and endlessly interesting. Working with reporters like Fran Spielman and Bill Cameron is a joy. It becomes a family.
How do you interview people you disagree with? Or people you think are corrupt?
That’s the job. You challenge facts without yelling. If someone claims massive voter fraud, I’ll point out that audits found almost none and ask where they got their information. If they say they’re “just hearing it,” that speaks for itself.
You don’t assume everyone enters politics for bad reasons. Most think they’re doing good.
What about corruption—ghost payrollers, mysterious jobs?
Lobbyists exist, but that’s not the same as elected officials. Some officials enter expecting riches, but most don’t get rich. Most intend to do good. The system is complicated. Politics is three-dimensional chess—more about power than money.
Was Mel basically preferring corruption?
He was part of a system that thrived on it. To get things for his ward, he had to work within that system. He openly talked about the old days—stuffing ballot boxes, job patronage. For him it was about getting jobs for “our guys.” Jobs fed families. Families sent kids to school.
Is it true dead people used to vote in Chicago?
Yes. Fewer now. Vote stealing absolutely happened, but modern systems make it much harder.
So Chicago is becoming Mayberry?
Never. Chicago will never be Mayberry and wouldn’t want to be. Cities like Chicago thrive on being tough, elbows-out places. People move to places like Kane County thinking they’re escaping the world, but the world follows you. New problems, new strengths, new communities.
Do you think things have gotten worse culturally?
It ebbs and flows. There’s incredible good—people helping strangers. But also bad—like people using the N-word in what they think is polite conversation. Politics in recent years made some people think bullying equals free speech. That part is worse.
But the potential for good is always there.
Can you give an example of hearing the N-word in “polite” conversation?
Yes. I was covering a barricade situation in Berwyn. My phone wasn’t working. A woman standing next to me said I could use her phone inside her house. She was very kind. I filed reports from her living room.
As people came home from work, one neighbor asked what was happening. The woman said, very casually, “A couple of n——s are holed up in that house.” I was standing right next to her. She didn’t realize she’d said anything offensive. For some people, that word is simply part of their vocabulary. Sadder than when it’s said in anger.
How do you handle situations like that?
It happens rarely now. But if it’s direct, I don’t back down. I tell people to stop. This stuff still occurs—in city departments, in politics. Some people justify it by saying, “Free speech—we can say what we want.”
What makes a good reporter?
Listening. Really listening. Not planning your next question while they talk. I always have a list of questions, but often the real story comes from something unexpected they say.
Writing is vital. You’re explaining the world to people. You should always be learning.
How did you learn to write well?
Good teachers—hard-nosed ones—in English class and journalism school.
What about being on TV?
I appear occasionally, usually on Channel 11’s “Week in Review.” It used to scare me; now it’s fine. TV requires different skills. You’re self-conscious about how you look, where you’re looking, how long you pause. I bring notes for names and numbers.
What advice do you have for people who want to do what you do?
Internships—wherever you can get them. And get a job doing the kind of work you actually want to do. If you want to be a reporter, get a reporter job. If you can’t get one in Chicago, go to Peoria or anywhere else, learn the craft, do it well. Then you can come back—or you might end up somewhere unexpected, like L.A. on TV.
Do the thing you want to do. Get good at it. Let that take you to the next step.
