Magic Johnson’s size 14 wingtips. Mayor Lori Lightfoot’s size 8 brogues. Perennial mayoral candidate and gas-giveway millionaire Willie Wilson’s size 11s.
Forty-dollar shoes. Thousand-dollar shoes. And everything in between.
Steve Fullerton has cared for them all, the snap of his buffing rags echoing beneath the vaulted marble ceiling of the Cook County Building for the past 20 years.
You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat their shoes, says the slow-talking 57-year-old West Sider.
“If you don’t care for your shoes, what other parts of your life aren’t you taking care of? … You only live once. God gave you two feet. Be good to them. They take you all over. They walk for you. They help you dance,” Fullerton said.
By that analysis, the world may be in serious trouble.
On a recent weekday morning, snowmelt still crusted the sidewalks beneath the looming Corinthian columns adorning the County Building. But the wooden benches where Fullerton scrubs away salt, mud and other unsightly muck remained empty.
Blame the pandemic and changing tastes in footwear. When he first started, Fullerton might polish 50 pairs of shoes in a day.
“Now you’ll be lucky if you get 10,” Fullerton said. “Younger people wear gym shoes and sandals. They don’t have the same enthusiasm about dressing up nice.”
* * *
Stand-alone shoeshine guys like Fullerton are an endangered species.
Still, Fullerton shows up each morning at 8:30 a.m. sharp, with a pack of Newport smokes, a can of ginger ale and a White Sox cap clapped on his head. He keeps his gear locked up in a tall wooden box that looks like something a magician might use to store wands, top hats and the like.
R&B oldies crackled from a dusty radio.
“Is chivalry dead when it comes to dating?” the radio host asked.
Fullerton himself has never been married; he has no kids.
“Women like financial stability,” he said.
He has no shortage of admirers.
“Steve’s a wonderful person. He’s been in the building forever. He’s just like family,” said Charlotte McGill, 63, who works in the county’s property tax department and has Fullerton shine her shoes once a month.
Among those passing by to say hello, but not stopping on this day, were Cook County Commissioner John Daley.
“Commissioner, how are you?” Fullerton said.
“Great conversations and he always gives great advice!” Daley called out, when Fullerton explained that the Chicago Sun-Times was interviewing him.
Former Mayor Lori Lightfoot was a customer. When she was a kid, Lightfoot’s father shined shoes as a side gig, she recalled.
“I learned from a very early age how to shine shoes and the importance of it,” she said. “I appreciate how hard it is to make your money that way.”
Sitting in Fullerton’s chair offered a brief escape from her grueling job.
“I like getting my shoes shined,” she said. “It feels very therapeutic.”
She and Fullerton would “chitchat,” but he never grilled her about her policy decisions.
“That’s not a good recipe for repeat customers,” Lightfoot joked.
* * *
On this day, half an hour after he arrived (and after hundreds of people had streamed into the building), Fullerton got his first customer: a lawyer on his way to court. The man was smartly dressed, wearing chocolate-brown dress shoes; they could have done with a shine, though.
Fullerton lathered up the shoes with a frothy layer of saddle soap, while the man looked at his phone. We won’t say exactly what happened next because Fullerton is very protective of his secret “recipe.”
“Do you know how many years it took me to learn to shine shoes!” he said, aghast that the Sun-Times would even consider making his technique public.
Suffice it to say, Fullerton applied a dark brown polish — Angelus Brand Perfect Stain Shoe Wax Polish — multiple times. Then lots of rubbing and buffing, a procedure that took about 15 minutes.
When he had finished, the gleam would have made a Marine Corps drill sergeant proud. Fullerton charges $10 – whether the shoes belong to the giant feet of an NBA player or to those of a diminutive mayor.
“Most people tip. My work is superb — one of the best shines in the city,” Fullerton said.
And, increasingly, one of the last.