Growing up in OP was a great experience. My fondest memories -was getting off the bus at the bus stop and smelling my mom's beans cooking from that far away. I hated beans and contemplated on those days not going home, but walking in the door and hearing the baseball game coming from the television set...or my mom's favorite music playing, was worth it. She was always busy cleaning and repeating over and over "clean up, pick up, that's all I ever do. Some day I'm going to leave this place." My dad would come in from working in Chicago and whistle all the way up the stairs. He loved coming home. Fond memories for me, and these days I like to believe that they are still there where I left them.. on Birch street in Orland Park.