Eddie Schwartz carried on a conversation with the city's night owls for 20 years as an overnight radio host whose love of Chicago and empathy for the downtrodden trumped a voice better suited for movies of the silent era.
Mr. Schwartz, 62, died of complications from kidney and heart disease on Tuesday, Feb. 3, in Glen Lake Terrace Nursing Home in Waukegan, said Dr. Richard Keller, Lake County coroner. He had left radio in 1995 and fought health problems, including extreme obesity, that in recent years had left him nearly destitute.
Known as "Chicago Ed," Mr. Schwartz started his on-air career at WIND, where he assumed late night duties in 1973. He reached perhaps his largest radio audience during 10 years on WGN before walking out in 1992 in a salary dispute and joining WLUP-FM.
He had a deep bench of sources whom he would call at any hour, and was steeped in news and trivia to carry his show through the long night. At home and in his car, he tuned to police and fire scanners to keep track of what was going on the city's streets, according to a 1982 Tribune article.
"He was a special person, somewhat of a recluse. He lived [alone] in his apartment and was a media junkie," said Mitch Rosen, a producer on Mr. Schwartz's show for seven years and now program director at WSCR-AM. "It was a 24-7 job for him."
Mr. Schwartz prospered by sticking up for regular Joes like himself, getting angry at injustices of all sizes and often calling aldermen and other officials in the wee hours to get answers.
In 1980, he successfully lobbied the Chicago City Council to raise the minimum nighttime temperature in rental apartments to 63 degrees from 55. Two years later, upset about how much Mayor Jane Byrne spent to light up the city's bridges and on other items he considered frivolous, he started the Good Neighbor Food Drive.
Each year the drive collected thousands of dollars and thousands of pounds of food for the area's food pantries. The food was mounded in the parking lot at WGN radio's former studios on Bradley Place while Mr. Schwartz held court behind the microphone and civic leaders like Mayor Harold Washington lined up to pay homage.
He was a radio success despite a voice that at times could be likened to a deflating balloon.
"It wasn't the quality of his voice. It was the quality of what he was saying, the warmth and caring and complete and utter passion for whatever he was talking about," said WGN's Dean Richards, a longtime friend.
A native of Chicago's Southeast Side, Mr. Schwartz graduated from Bowen High School. When he was a senior, WLS-AM program director and radio legend Clark Weber hired him to answer the switchboard on Dick Biondi's show. The teenager's enthusiasm for radio was evident, his talent for the medium less so, Weber said.
"He was an excitable know-it-all," Weber said with a laugh. "He had a terrible voice, and it got worse over the years."
He went to WIND initially as a music director, Weber said, before going on the air. After success at that station, where he spent a couple of years doing afternoon shows, and WGN, he moved to WLUP as the overnight man on a station where personalities like Steve Dahl and Kevin Matthews had made sport of him for years. He failed to capture the station's younger audience, and his tenure was short-lived.
Still sure he had something to say despite the lack of a radio outlet and as his health worsened, Mr. Schwartz wrote columns for the Lerner newspaper chain for several years. Later, he wrote letters to the editor to make his voice heard.
"He remained passionately, fiercely committed to Chicago," Richards said.
His colleagues, including Dahl, got together to help Mr. Schwartz in recent years, staging a radiothon in 2006 to help ease his financial woes.
"He wanted to be loved," Weber said. "He had passion, and it came back to him."
Mr. Schwartz is survived by a brother, Hal Ross.
Graveside services were at Waldheim Cemetery in Forest Park.
Mr. Schwartz, 62, died of complications from kidney and heart disease on Tuesday, Feb. 3, in Glen Lake Terrace Nursing Home in Waukegan, said Dr. Richard Keller, Lake County coroner. He had left radio in 1995 and fought health problems, including extreme obesity, that in recent years had left him nearly destitute.
Known as "Chicago Ed," Mr. Schwartz started his on-air career at WIND, where he assumed late night duties in 1973. He reached perhaps his largest radio audience during 10 years on WGN before walking out in 1992 in a salary dispute and joining WLUP-FM.
He had a deep bench of sources whom he would call at any hour, and was steeped in news and trivia to carry his show through the long night. At home and in his car, he tuned to police and fire scanners to keep track of what was going on the city's streets, according to a 1982 Tribune article.
"He was a special person, somewhat of a recluse. He lived [alone] in his apartment and was a media junkie," said Mitch Rosen, a producer on Mr. Schwartz's show for seven years and now program director at WSCR-AM. "It was a 24-7 job for him."
Mr. Schwartz prospered by sticking up for regular Joes like himself, getting angry at injustices of all sizes and often calling aldermen and other officials in the wee hours to get answers.
In 1980, he successfully lobbied the Chicago City Council to raise the minimum nighttime temperature in rental apartments to 63 degrees from 55. Two years later, upset about how much Mayor Jane Byrne spent to light up the city's bridges and on other items he considered frivolous, he started the Good Neighbor Food Drive.
Each year the drive collected thousands of dollars and thousands of pounds of food for the area's food pantries. The food was mounded in the parking lot at WGN radio's former studios on Bradley Place while Mr. Schwartz held court behind the microphone and civic leaders like Mayor Harold Washington lined up to pay homage.
He was a radio success despite a voice that at times could be likened to a deflating balloon.
"It wasn't the quality of his voice. It was the quality of what he was saying, the warmth and caring and complete and utter passion for whatever he was talking about," said WGN's Dean Richards, a longtime friend.
A native of Chicago's Southeast Side, Mr. Schwartz graduated from Bowen High School. When he was a senior, WLS-AM program director and radio legend Clark Weber hired him to answer the switchboard on Dick Biondi's show. The teenager's enthusiasm for radio was evident, his talent for the medium less so, Weber said.
"He was an excitable know-it-all," Weber said with a laugh. "He had a terrible voice, and it got worse over the years."
He went to WIND initially as a music director, Weber said, before going on the air. After success at that station, where he spent a couple of years doing afternoon shows, and WGN, he moved to WLUP as the overnight man on a station where personalities like Steve Dahl and Kevin Matthews had made sport of him for years. He failed to capture the station's younger audience, and his tenure was short-lived.
Still sure he had something to say despite the lack of a radio outlet and as his health worsened, Mr. Schwartz wrote columns for the Lerner newspaper chain for several years. Later, he wrote letters to the editor to make his voice heard.
"He remained passionately, fiercely committed to Chicago," Richards said.
His colleagues, including Dahl, got together to help Mr. Schwartz in recent years, staging a radiothon in 2006 to help ease his financial woes.
"He wanted to be loved," Weber said. "He had passion, and it came back to him."
Mr. Schwartz is survived by a brother, Hal Ross.
Graveside services were at Waldheim Cemetery in Forest Park.
Eddie Schwartz carried on a conversation with the city's night owls for 20 years as an overnight radio host whose love of Chicago and empathy for the downtrodden trumped a voice better suited for movies of the silent era.
Mr. Schwartz, 62, died of complications from kidney and heart disease on Tuesday, Feb. 3, in Glen Lake Terrace Nursing Home in Waukegan, said Dr. Richard Keller, Lake County coroner. He had left radio in 1995 and fought health problems, including extreme obesity, that in recent years had left him nearly destitute.
Known as "Chicago Ed," Mr. Schwartz started his on-air career at WIND, where he assumed late night duties in 1973. He reached perhaps his largest radio audience during 10 years on WGN before walking out in 1992 in a salary dispute and joining WLUP-FM.
He had a deep bench of sources whom he would call at any hour, and was steeped in news and trivia to carry his show through the long night. At home and in his car, he tuned to police and fire scanners to keep track of what was going on the city's streets, according to a 1982 Tribune article.
"He was a special person, somewhat of a recluse. He lived [alone] in his apartment and was a media junkie," said Mitch Rosen, a producer on Mr. Schwartz's show for seven years and now program director at WSCR-AM. "It was a 24-7 job for him."
Mr. Schwartz prospered by sticking up for regular Joes like himself, getting angry at injustices of all sizes and often calling aldermen and other officials in the wee hours to get answers.
In 1980, he successfully lobbied the Chicago City Council to raise the minimum nighttime temperature in rental apartments to 63 degrees from 55. Two years later, upset about how much Mayor Jane Byrne spent to light up the city's bridges and on other items he considered frivolous, he started the Good Neighbor Food Drive.
Each year the drive collected thousands of dollars and thousands of pounds of food for the area's food pantries. The food was mounded in the parking lot at WGN radio's former studios on Bradley Place while Mr. Schwartz held court behind the microphone and civic leaders like Mayor Harold Washington lined up to pay homage.
He was a radio success despite a voice that at times could be likened to a deflating balloon.
"It wasn't the quality of his voice. It was the quality of what he was saying, the warmth and caring and complete and utter passion for whatever he was talking about," said WGN's Dean Richards, a longtime friend.
A native of Chicago's Southeast Side, Mr. Schwartz graduated from Bowen High School. When he was a senior, WLS-AM program director and radio legend Clark Weber hired him to answer the switchboard on Dick Biondi's show. The teenager's enthusiasm for radio was evident, his talent for the medium less so, Weber said.
"He was an excitable know-it-all," Weber said with a laugh. "He had a terrible voice, and it got worse over the years."
He went to WIND initially as a music director, Weber said, before going on the air. After success at that station, where he spent a couple of years doing afternoon shows, and WGN, he moved to WLUP as the overnight man on a station where personalities like Steve Dahl and Kevin Matthews had made sport of him for years. He failed to capture the station's younger audience, and his tenure was short-lived.
Still sure he had something to say despite the lack of a radio outlet and as his health worsened, Mr. Schwartz wrote columns for the Lerner newspaper chain for several years. Later, he wrote letters to the editor to make his voice heard.
"He remained passionately, fiercely committed to Chicago," Richards said.
His colleagues, including Dahl, got together to help Mr. Schwartz in recent years, staging a radiothon in 2006 to help ease his financial woes.
"He wanted to be loved," Weber said. "He had passion, and it came back to him."
Mr. Schwartz is survived by a brother, Hal Ross.
Graveside services were at Waldheim Cemetery in Forest Park.
Mr. Schwartz, 62, died of complications from kidney and heart disease on Tuesday, Feb. 3, in Glen Lake Terrace Nursing Home in Waukegan, said Dr. Richard Keller, Lake County coroner. He had left radio in 1995 and fought health problems, including extreme obesity, that in recent years had left him nearly destitute.
Known as "Chicago Ed," Mr. Schwartz started his on-air career at WIND, where he assumed late night duties in 1973. He reached perhaps his largest radio audience during 10 years on WGN before walking out in 1992 in a salary dispute and joining WLUP-FM.
He had a deep bench of sources whom he would call at any hour, and was steeped in news and trivia to carry his show through the long night. At home and in his car, he tuned to police and fire scanners to keep track of what was going on the city's streets, according to a 1982 Tribune article.
"He was a special person, somewhat of a recluse. He lived [alone] in his apartment and was a media junkie," said Mitch Rosen, a producer on Mr. Schwartz's show for seven years and now program director at WSCR-AM. "It was a 24-7 job for him."
Mr. Schwartz prospered by sticking up for regular Joes like himself, getting angry at injustices of all sizes and often calling aldermen and other officials in the wee hours to get answers.
In 1980, he successfully lobbied the Chicago City Council to raise the minimum nighttime temperature in rental apartments to 63 degrees from 55. Two years later, upset about how much Mayor Jane Byrne spent to light up the city's bridges and on other items he considered frivolous, he started the Good Neighbor Food Drive.
Each year the drive collected thousands of dollars and thousands of pounds of food for the area's food pantries. The food was mounded in the parking lot at WGN radio's former studios on Bradley Place while Mr. Schwartz held court behind the microphone and civic leaders like Mayor Harold Washington lined up to pay homage.
He was a radio success despite a voice that at times could be likened to a deflating balloon.
"It wasn't the quality of his voice. It was the quality of what he was saying, the warmth and caring and complete and utter passion for whatever he was talking about," said WGN's Dean Richards, a longtime friend.
A native of Chicago's Southeast Side, Mr. Schwartz graduated from Bowen High School. When he was a senior, WLS-AM program director and radio legend Clark Weber hired him to answer the switchboard on Dick Biondi's show. The teenager's enthusiasm for radio was evident, his talent for the medium less so, Weber said.
"He was an excitable know-it-all," Weber said with a laugh. "He had a terrible voice, and it got worse over the years."
He went to WIND initially as a music director, Weber said, before going on the air. After success at that station, where he spent a couple of years doing afternoon shows, and WGN, he moved to WLUP as the overnight man on a station where personalities like Steve Dahl and Kevin Matthews had made sport of him for years. He failed to capture the station's younger audience, and his tenure was short-lived.
Still sure he had something to say despite the lack of a radio outlet and as his health worsened, Mr. Schwartz wrote columns for the Lerner newspaper chain for several years. Later, he wrote letters to the editor to make his voice heard.
"He remained passionately, fiercely committed to Chicago," Richards said.
His colleagues, including Dahl, got together to help Mr. Schwartz in recent years, staging a radiothon in 2006 to help ease his financial woes.
"He wanted to be loved," Weber said. "He had passion, and it came back to him."
Mr. Schwartz is survived by a brother, Hal Ross.
Graveside services were at Waldheim Cemetery in Forest Park.
