Jim Peterik’s Balkan reflections

I feel I knew Berwyn intimately as I was growing up. The walk to Piper school from 2647 Oak Park Avenue was marked by countless brick bungalows, each having it’s own subtle personality- some with ornate pots flanking the cement staircase, some with “modern” glass block remodeling, some with ornate stained glass windows (like my house), some with shiny yellow brick, some with bricks of ruddy brown.

But it was the blocks just past Piper School that really captured my interest because they led to the Mecca of all the things I loved- a store near the corner of Clinton and Cermak Road called Balkan Music. I discovered it before I was really committed to music but I was intrigued by the colorful chrome appointed guitars in the window. And when I walked in I was always greeted by the hottest of the top 10 pumping through a huge 15 inch speaker in a walnut cabinet tucked behind the desk.
The gentleman who was the Oz behind the music was one Mr. Hlad (although at the time my friends and I all referred to him as Mr. Balkan) who was distinctive for his balding pate and formal black suit (I always though he resembled Mel in the Dick Van Dyke Show!). Mr Hlad was always courteous to us little rug rats although he was quick to shoo us from his precious guitars if we got too close.

Sharing the clerking duties was what I assume was Mrs. Hlad- a business- like brunette with a solid Czech look about her.

As the lure of rock and roll started to grab a hold of me, myself and other members of the Shondels (namely Bob Bergland, Larry Millas (all Piper alumni) and Mike Borch- the future Ides Of March) started haunting Balkans Music, testing the boundaries of their patience and trust in our solid Berwyn upbringing. As electric guitar became my passion, I started drooling over the brace of fine Grestch guitars lined up like soldiers on the display ledge. Then behind the glass in the display case was the one or two guitars that Mr. Hlad deemed ‘untouchable”. I remember one was a deep red Gibson 355 with gold hardware selling for the princely sum of $425.00. I could barely look at it with out blushing.
In addition to the guitars I lusted after, every now and then we would hear live rock and roll emanating from behind a door as near the entrance of the store. A flashing red light indicated that a “recording session” was in progress. We could only imagine the technical wonders that lie behind that soundproof door- and we never felt qualified to even ask Mr. Hlad for a tour of these magic chambers. This was clearly for more seasoned musicians with money and experience.

Once though when The Shondels had a particularly important gig (or job as we called them then) “Mr. Balkan” was kind enough to lend us one of his precision studio mikes. I remember my voice never coming though clearer than that night (I hope I thanked him properly the next day.)

Besides all the guitars that were on display, there were guitar amplifiers, accordions, brass instruments, woodwinds and some percussion. There were also racks and racks of sheet music and vinyl records. The 45’s were kept behind the counter but the L.P.s (short for “long players”) were in wooden bins.

Beside the top sellers you could find  scads of Polka records, Muzzurkas, all music Eastern European as well as drum and bugle corp albums that were impossible to find elsewhere.

One Monday morning in late 1963 I ran down Clinton Avenue to get to Balkan just when it opened that day. The Saturday previous I saw a segment on the Jack Paar show that that would change my life and the world as we know it. Jack showed some grainy black and white footage of a band that was causing a ruckus on his latest trip to the U.K.

They went by the odd name, The Beatles. This was a full three months before they made their American debut on the Ed Sullivan Show.The feeling I got watching this band that first time still sends shivers up my spine. In the video, the girls were screaming and the Beatles we’re bleating “She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah”. It was with that image in my head that I burst through the Balkan doors and walked confidently up to the counter and asked the would-be Mrs Hlad if she carried anything by a group called The Beatles. She laughed and said that she never even heard of them much less carried any of their music. Through my supreme disappointment I managed the words “Well get ready because you’re going to be hearing a lot about them real soon!” I turned on my heels and walked briskly out the door.

There were many stores in Berwyn that made a huge impact on my young life growing up in the late 50’s/ early 60s. Certainly Selbas candy on 26th street, G.C, Murphy’s at the Cermak Plaza (where any day you could hear my dear Auntie Clara shouting “Murphyburger” from behind the diner counter), and Art’s Toys Shop on Cermak. But none will ever match a simple brick building on Cermak road that held the blueprint to my dreams- it’s name was Balkan Music.