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I first had occasion to visit The Cliff Dwellers in the 1980s.  At the time, I worked at Encyclopaedia Britannica’s global headquarters, just two buildings south of the club at 310 South Michigan Avenue.  I was invited to lunch at the club by Peter Norton, a member of The Cliff Dwellers, Britannica’s President, and my boss.  Adjacent to our table was a threesome I took to be a young mother with her daughter and father.  At one point during lunch, the mother suddenly pushed her chair back from their table, stood up, and burst into a flawless soprano a cappella rendition of Amazing Grace.  Her stunning professional voice immediately drew the attention of everyone in the room.  All stopped eating, transfixed until she finished her private family serenade, sat down, and resumed her meal.  Everyone else also resumed their lunch, as if nothing unusual had just occurred.  But I knew something unusual had occurred.  I was in an unusual place.  I was at The Cliff Dwellers. —Bill Bowe