When the CIty decided to make that area into a public park, it dug up the gravesites to move them elsewhere. The Crouch brothers' estate sued the city, maintaining that the brothers had purchased the land to be held in perpetuity as their resting place, and that their ownership from the other side, as it were, had precedence over the city's claim. The Illinois Supreme Court ruled in the Crouch brothers' favor: so the city removed all the other bodies and left Ira Crouch and his brother behind an iron fence near the boundary of the zoo, looking very much like another caged exhibit, albeit non-mobile. This landmark case established the rights of the dead within the city of Chicago, and as most of you are no doubt aware, the dead went on to retain the right to vote, and indeed have turned out in droves for municipal elections for most of this century.
I have even heard an urban version of a rural political story, told out in McHenry County, of a Democratic Farmer who had been invited by a friend to go to the big Republican picnic and rally. The Republican senator was addressing the rally, and said, "Let's see the hands of all those good Republicans out there!", at which a sea of beer mugs were hoisted with a shout. The Senator said, "There aren't any Democrats out there, are there?" The one old farmer raised his hand, looking rather sheepish. "Let me ask you, sir," said the Senator, "Why are you a Democrat?" "Well," answered the farmer, "My father was a Democrat, my grandfather was a Democrat, and I hear tell my Great-Grandfather was a Democrat. I guess that makes me a Democrat too." "That's no reason," said the Senator, and his eyes just shone because he was going to trap that poor old farmer using his superior wit and a bear-trap of logic, and make a point for his fellow Party members. "Suppose your father and grandfather and greatgrandfather had been horsethieves, then what would you be?" "Well," said the farmer, "I guess then I'd be a Republican.
