Steve Goodman: Chicago's Cherished Balladeer
Early Years & Chicago Roots
Steve Goodman was born on Chicago’s North Side to a middle-class Jewish family. He began writing and performing music in his teenage years and graduated from Maine East High School in Park Ridge, Illinois, in 1965, where he was classmates with Hillary Clinton. While still in high school, he launched his public singing career by leading the junior choir at Temple Beth Israel in Albany Park.
That fall, he enrolled at the University of Illinois and joined the Sigma Alpha Mu fraternity. During college, he formed a cover band called The Juicy Fruits, playing lead guitar alongside Ron Banyon (rhythm guitar), Steve Hartmann (bass), and Elliot Englehardt (drums). After a year, Goodman left college to pursue music full time. In early 1967, he spent a month in New York City, living in a Greenwich Village brownstone across from Café Wha?, where he regularly performed.
Goodman returned to Chicago with plans to resume his studies. In 1968, he began performing at local venues like the Earl of Old Town and The Dangling Conversation coffeehouse, gradually building a loyal audience. By 1969, he had become a regular on the Chicago music scene while attending Lake Forest College. To support himself, he sang advertising jingles. Around this time, Goodman was diagnosed with leukemia, the cause of his persistent fatigue. The diagnosis led him to leave school once again and commit fully to his musical career.
Hall of Fame Induction & Legacy
In the late summer of 2025, under the opulent arches of Joliet’s Rialto Square Theatre, a moment decades in the making finally arrived. Steve Goodman, Chicago’s cherished balladeer, was posthumously inducted into the Illinois Rock & Roll Museum Hall of Fame. The applause that rang out wasn’t just for his name — it was for a spirit that never left us.
Goodman’s songs have always been more than melodies. They were postcards from the soul of a city. Whether capturing the quiet poetry of everyday life in “City of New Orleans” or rallying a weary fan base with the now-iconic “Go Cubs Go,” Steve Goodman had an uncanny way of making listeners feel seen — and never alone.
His music lives in our bones. On el trains and at ballparks, in smoky taverns and backyard barbecues, there’s always been a Goodman song playing somewhere, even if only in memory. His voice — clear, wry, tender — became a soundtrack for those who love deeply, laugh often, and root for the underdog.
The induction ceremony, honoring both the 2024 and 2025 classes, became a tribute not just to the artist but to the community he helped shape. Fellow folk legend Bonnie Koloc paid musical homage, and comedian-musician Skip Griparis offered a heartfelt tribute. But it was the moment when the crowd rose — unprompted — to sing “Go Cubs Go” that brought tears to more than a few eyes. For a few golden minutes, it felt like Steve himself was in the room, grinning behind his guitar, nudging us to sing a little louder.
That’s the thing about Goodman. Though leukemia claimed him far too soon in 1984, his songs refused to let go. They became Chicago’s lullabies, protest chants, and fight songs. They told us who we were — flawed, hopeful, scrappy — and reminded us to find humor and grace in it all.
Now, with his Hall of Fame plaque finally in place, Steve Goodman’s legacy gets the recognition it has always deserved. But for those who’ve carried his music in their hearts for years, the honor is bittersweet. It’s a victory lap for a man who never stopped running with the underdog and singing for the forgotten.
As the last chords of “City of New Orleans” echoed through the Rialto, it wasn’t just an ending — it was a homecoming. Steve Goodman, Chicago’s own, is forever enshrined where he belongs: among legends, wrapped in applause, his songs still drifting through the Illinois wind.
"Good morning America, how are you?
Say, don't you know me, I'm your native son
I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done"