12 hours overnight at one of Chicago’s last 24/7 diners
Danny Gustafson sits quietly at the counter, sipping a milky coffee. He stares at the wall and twiddles an unlit cigarette in his fingers. It’s 3:58 a.m. His mind wanders. He remembers his late father, who brought him to Chicago in 1965. He thinks about his work as a repairman, …
