A South Side tribute to Myrna Fauska

It’s 5 p.m. on a Sunday night, and the telephone won’t be ringing with Myrna Fauska calling to find out what Lynette and Sally have been up to the past week. For I don’t know how many years (but a lot), Myrna would call every Sunday, with pen in hand, ready to note what we had been up to in the prior week.