At first I was going to write and say that the building itself was probably okay and that it’s only the wooden railings and balconies that were rickety and scary, but then I figured, nah, the building was probably crappy, too. What I find I can’t take my eyes off is that chunky kid in the middle with the white shirt and suspenders and puffy pants. He likely became somebody, that kid. There’s a dynamic glow to him.

Says something about the human spirit that, in the middle of all this urban decay, those kids are dressed to the nines and looking fine.

I rarely felt such a giddy excitement by any structure that I've ever seen as with the the building in this photo.

On a society that deemed this suitable accommodation for a particular section of society.

Why am I thinking of a Hitchcock film when I look at this photo?

What a stark and disturbing contrast this "Playscape" photo makes with the previous "Sidewalk Squadron" image. White, seemingly middle class, kids in their nice, neat-neighborhood surroundings. Black American children in a scene similar to those from rundown neighborhoods in war-devastated cities of Europe and the Asia-Pacific theaters in World War II. "Housing available to Negroes." Housing available to those blighted with the stigmas attached to their dark skin and poverty.

The good news is that it's likely grandchildren of the black children in this "Playscape" image are probably living in and raising their children in much better surroundings and circumstances.

I wish I knew the South Side better. I love pinpointing locales from clues in Shorpy photos. I predict someone will identify the church on the left of the picture.

after several hours of puzzlement as to why the best-looking building in the shot - that garage on the left - was a trashed ruin, I concluded it wasn't: it's a burned-out ruin (that seems to be debris in the street and a fireman looking it over). It may be our best chance at locating this scene more specifically; all we need is a list of all Chicago fires in the March and April of 1941. Yep, that's all we need.

That whole building is one huge triple-dog-dare. Notice no kids are too close to it.