And your ears shall hear…

Before rideshare apps, parking apps, and QR code meters took over Chicago, there was one thing every driver feared more than winter potholes: getting towed by the Lincoln Park Pirates. The notorious towing company became legendary in Chicago during the 1960s and ‘70s for swooping in and hauling cars away at lightning speed — sometimes seemingly before the driver had even finished reading the parking sign.

Stories spread across the city about outrageous fees, aggressive tactics, and people scrambling to get cash together just to rescue their vehicles from the impound lot. The “Pirates” nickname stuck because, to many Chicagoans, it felt less like parking enforcement and more like a hostage negotiation.

The wild thing is, the stories never really stopped. I still remember going to a show at the Aragon Ballroom years ago and parking near the cemetery where there were NO “No Parking” signs anywhere. We came out after the concert and the car was just… gone. Standing there late at night in Uptown, scared to death that we’d never get home — and knowing it was our parents’ car — felt like a full-blown Chicago horror movie. Turns out we weren’t alone.

In October 2015, after a concert at the Aragon Ballroom, Lincoln Towing reportedly towed multiple concertgoers’ cars from a nearby lot. According to reports, a tow truck driver allegedly verbally harassed motorists reclaiming their vehicles and even assaulted a cyclist. The incident became such a flashpoint that 47th Ward alderman Ameya Pawar publicly called the company “bad actors” and explored options to shut them down.

Their reputation became so infamous that Chicago folk singer Steve Goodman even wrote a satirical song about them called “Lincoln Park Pirates,” turning the city’s towing frustration into local folklore. The song painted tow truck drivers like old-school bandits roaming the streets looking for their next victim.

Honestly, every Chicagoan of a certain age probably has a towing story. And while modern parking enforcement has gotten more organized (and slightly less pirate-like), the fear of spotting an empty parking spot only to come back to an empty curb still lives on. In Chicago, some legends are built on baseball. Others are built on tow trucks.