Chicago Tribune Chicago, Illinois Wednesday, July 19, 1972 - Page 80
Chicago Chess Addicts Find Lakefront Home by Frank Blatchford
“You fool, I told you not to make that mistake again,” shouted Nate, the stockbroker, at Andre, the busboy, his mock anger reverberating thru the lakefront chess pavilion just south of the North Avenue Beach.
Every afternoon when the weather's nice, Nathan Rochmes, who's in his fifties, grabs his plastic satchel and rushes out of his office as soon as the day's trading is over. At the chess pavilion he takes out the battered set of chessmen, a cushion for himself, and begins to play.
Usually he'll find the same players there, Andre Nairveau, a 20-year-old busboy, John, Kathy, and nearly two dozen others.
One can't spend an hour watching the players without realizing that chess is more than a world championship match between Boris Spassky of Russia and Bobby Fischer of the United States.
Chess is an addiction, a state of mind, a force that binds men.
It spans the generation gap. It fills a hungry stomach at lunch time. It whiles away lonely hours for the old and fascinates the young.
On a recent afternoon 11 games proceeded at once in the pavilion, which commands a magnificent view of the downtown skyline.
“Most of these guys out here are crazy over chess,” John said. “I'm one of 'em. We come out here just about every day from May thru Labor Day. With the lake and the breeze this has to be one of the most beautiful spots in the city.
“This morning we worked out the third Spassky-Fischer game and figured Spassky couldn't last four moves.
“But now everybody's forgotten about that. They're all engaged in their own games. The concentration is so deep it's almost like a mystical spell. A girl could walk right thru here in a bikini and nobody would notice.”