It won't exactly be the sort of historical marker you'll stumble upon while taking a stroll. It will be found at the end of a dreary industrial street in Evanston, fixed to a pole in front of a poop-brown abandoned warehouse overlooking cars whizzing by on I-71. But someone who comes upon it next week (or in years to come) will likely do a double-take reading what happened in that crumbling building where King Records became The King of Them All.




