There’s no place like Chicago.

There’s no place like Chicago.

There’s no place like Chicago.

Especially when it comes to recognizing the storytelling charm of L. Frank Baum.

Baum wrote his classic children’s book, “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz,” while living in Chicago’s Humboldt Park neighborhood. It was published in 1900, with illustrations by Chicago-based artist William Wallace Denslow.

In 1939, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer released the film, “The Wizard of Oz,” and there seems to be no end to the popularity as each generation embraces the tale of a colorful collection of characters embarking on adventure, finding themselves and overcoming adversity.

The film was introduced to television audiences in the 1950s and has enjoyed regular airings pretty much ever since. In the 1970s, “The Wiz” opened on stage and then film. The early 2000s brought “Wicked,” the theatrical blockbuster. And this holiday season, “Wicked” the movie, starring Ariana Grande, Cynthia Erivo and Jeff Goldblum, opens across the country.

But Chicago’s love reaches beyond the entertainment industry. In 1970, Chicago opened Oz Park at 2021 N. Burling St., featuring statues of Dorothy and Toto, the Scarecrow, the Lion and the Tin Man.

On the corner of North Humboldt Boulevard and West Wabansia Avenue, a mosaic by artist Hector Duarte and 70-foot section of “yellow brick” walkway installed by nonprofit developer Bickerdike now grace the site where Baum’s house once stood.

Though there seems to be no end to the story’s life, it is the original film, one of the earliest to introduce Technicolor in scenes, that connects those of us who grew up in the 1950s, ’60s and ’70s.

It was a magical time when families gathered around the television to watch films and programs together.

Of course, by today’s standards it was also a maddening time before streaming and recording, back when you had to wait for the local station to air your favorite movie and, once a date was announced, you had to clear your schedule and ride out the commercials.

To a millennial that must sound brutal. But it was all we knew and we reacted with delight and anticipation.

There was something neat about knowing the same movie was airing at the same time on the same night in millions of living rooms across the country, that all of us were scared, hopeful and enchanted in unison.

Kind of like watching the Super Bowl or the World Series.

To this day, the film transports me back to one of my best childhood memories: Watching my mom become a child again each time she saw the opening credits roll across our TV screen.

It was as if she became a child again.

She adored the characters, loved the good vs. evil plot, related to the themes of struggle, fear, friendship, acceptance and adventure. And she belted out “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” with abandon.

And we, her children, loved watching her love it all.

She also no doubt felt somewhat of a kinship with Dorothy after the 1967 Oak Lawn tornado brought a swath of destruction too close to our Chicago Ridge bungalow.

Truth be told, we all can relate to the story. At times we all feel like strangers battling our way through a world of misunderstanding and cruelty. We all want to believe that home is not so much a place, but a feeling of being safe and loved.

And wouldn’t it be neat if the answers we so desperately seek are already deep within ourselves?

According to Smithsonian magazine, Baum’s book became a fast bestseller and introduced a new genre to the world of children’s literature.

“Until this point, American children read European literature; there had never been a successful American children’s book author,” the article said. “Unlike other books for children, ‘The Wizard of Oz’ was pleasingly informal; characters were defined by their actions rather than authorial discourse; and morality was a subtext rather than a juggernaut rolling through the text.”

Baum wrote 14 books in the Oz series, beginning with “The Marvelous Land of Oz” (1904) and ending with “Glinda of Oz,” which was published posthumously in 1920, according to the Library of Congress.

The “Wizard of Oz” film, starring Garland, Ray Bolger and Frank Morgan, first aired on television in 1956 and for the next 35 years, it was shown regularly.

Now 85, the movie still resonates with the public. And it seems there is no shortage of spinoffs and theories about the inspiration for the story.

In a recent story in Smithsonian magazine (www.smithsonianmag.com/history/the-feminist- inspired-witches-of-oz- 180985334), writer Evan I. Schwartz states, “the real-life backstory of the witches of Oz … involves a hidden hero of the 19th-century women’s rights movement and the most powerful woman in Baum’s life: his mother-in-law, Matilda Electa Joslyn Gage.”

Schwartz explains: “Gage was known for her radical views and confrontational approach. At the Statue of Liberty unveiling in 1886, she showed up on a cattle barge with a megaphone, shouting that it was ‘a gigantic lie, a travesty and a mockery’ to portray liberty as a woman when actual American women had so few rights.”

Another theory is the story is a political allegory, with each character representing a different, disgruntled component of society — the Tin Man is mistreated factory workers, the Scarecrow is troubled farmers, etc., according to one essay (historycollection.com/16-hidden-symbolic- messages- in- the- wizard- of- oz- you- may-have-missed).

Politics aside, at its core, “The Wizard of Oz” is a good adventure tale, much like “The Hobbit.” It features a journey, evil, camaraderie and fellowship.

And, of course, there’s magic. The film opens in black and white, giving the windswept Kansas landscape a bleak, tired vibe. After the storm, Dorothy awakens to a colorful world of imagination.

Every year, my mother “oohed and aahed” at the technical transition.

I took her to see both “The Wiz” and “Wicked” soon after the productions opened in Chicago’s theater district. Of course, she loved them. She loved every trip we made back into the city where she grew up.

I also bought her Baum’s classic, “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz,” which she read for the first time as a grandma.

Were she still alive, I would take her to see the section of yellow brick road in Humboldt Park.

So I could hear her say, “There’s no place like Chicago.”

Donna Vickroy is an award-winning reporter, editor and columnist who worked for the Daily Southtown for 38 years. She can be reached at donnavickroy4@gmail.com.