Six-thirty the morning after, and the sound on every block is the same: a steel edge scraping concrete, one stroke after another. Removal Masters Chicago sits in the middle of that sound, opening drives and walks and salting them so the bus stop at the corner is reachable in ordinary shoes. There is a particular satisfaction in watching black asphalt come back out from under six inches of white, one pass at a time. Buses roll by, kids cut the corner across a lot, and the day starts more or less on schedule. That is the whole ambition — the city moving again by breakfast.