Love in a City

What is there about a city you cannot wait until you’re there and only after a few days you cannot wait to leave? Tell me you’ve never felt this way. Sorry, but I just do not believe you. A love-hate relationship tends to be a one-one common denominator. You just have to ask yourself why this is so?

Like many others in this global world, I grew up in a grand city; my city is famed for its automobile industry, commonly known as Motor City: Ford and General Motors with Chevrolet, Buick, GMC and Cadillac; and it’s also the home start of many world known stars in the field of music, Motown: Diana Ross, Jackson Brothers, including Michael and their sister Janet, and not to forget Madonna. A busy city back then until the downhill turn beginning in 2000 when the bubble finally burst in 2009 due to subprime housing, leaving a worn and aged looking landscape, so aged tears would fall as you sat back and recalled the excitement of then big city. Do you remember one of Petula Clark’s hit songs: Downtown? That song engaged everyone’s mind who strolled the streets there in the evening. For a young teenager at that time, it was the hangout. It was where energy flowed through your veins in comparison to the stillstand often felt at homebase.

I’m quite sure that you have guessed the name of my city: Detroit, a mainstay in Michigan, USA. Detroit is also home to the Detroit Tigers, a baseball metropole. Detroit is also a main thoroughfare to the border of Canada, you just need to cross the Detroit River via the Ambassador Bridge, or drive through the highway tunnel. America is not really known for its railroad system but there is a rail connection to Windsor, Canada. Yes, my city is multicultural. Metropolitan is an airport terminal for international flights, so there are many visitors who stopover even if only for a short visit. 

What have I forgotten to mention? Detroit’s impressive skyline, the river, or as one of the four straits, joining the Great Lakes to the Saint Lawrence Seaway where freighters partake of the expanse of water in hauling and dispatching their cargo to faraway places.

I could never put a number to the many hours I spent at the edge of the river just watching the river traffic nor could I ever forget my dreams of boarding one of those beautiful ships and travelling to the other end of the earth. As a kid, I’d picture myself as a castaway and landing somewhere on sandy shores, Hawaii perhaps. My father would study the ship’s design and using his binocculars he’d outline the fine details like the bow’s maidenhead. He’d keep a log book of which ships we saw and where they came from. You might call him a ship spotter – similar to a train spotter, a term which came into use much later in time.

Detroit, being my hometown, is a city of many firsts for me. My first driving lessons, and learning to manoeuvre the freeway at rush hour at the age of sixteen, and how many close calls I and my friends had – so many memories are juxtaposed together with the various activities we did. Mention friends and think of first dates and first love, some of the calamities we had in that respect. I even blush today at the mere thoughts slinking like a snake back into my mind. 

I was a lucky fellow family-wise. Both maternal and paternal grandparents lived nearby. Being second generation of Italian-Irish immigrants, family life was an important part of my life. Not only did my parents rule the nest, the grandparents came next, followed by aunts and uncles from the family clan. In this sense, I rarely walked alone. Consequently, I had to watch my p’s and q’s. 

You can imagine now where and why the love-hate relationship comes to mind. My guess is, sadly, we have to accept the fact that life changes. At times it’s quite a dramatic change. Having moved away from my city, it was heart-rending to hear, read about and watch on the news what devastation the subprime mortgage crisis had brought about. In little more than seven years this lead to Detroit’s bankruptcy. It was terribly hard to visit ‚home’; to see with one’s own eyes just how low and how quickly a beautiful, thriving city turned into an ugly duckling, better is to compare it to a monstrous rubbish dump. Boarded up homes, left to fall to ruin, yards grown wild, fallen trees left to rot, abandoned cars and boats, even the freeway seemed at a loss. You could not notice much difference between the affluent and the poorer parts of the city. The city came close to being a modern day ghost town. Many residents fled from the city because they had no job. If you’re unemployed, what do you do? You try social services, you try to find a new job. In the end, it’s all to no avail. With no money earned, many homeowners lost their home. The city could find no investors to help put a stop to the depletion of resources. What happened to life?

Where does one begin? How does one begin? Who initiates  turning over a new leaf? Who delivers strategies? Is only the mayor and his constituency responsible? 

It is more than difficult to find answers to these questions. But somewhere there are answers; there are those who will standfast, who will commit themselves to solving problems. Too many people and businesses, small and large, were and still are involved. It takes time, lots of valuable time along with many gold bars; but the point is to never give up hope.

It’s taken more than a good decade for Detroit’s recovery. You could say those who love the city, know what it was like, put their strength together and breathed fresh air into its lungs. With the goodwill of a few millionaires who have invested in the restoration of Detroit, there’s light to be found at the end of the tunnel. Some things never change and that remains to be the Detroit River with its freighter traffic. I also believe that once you love a city, you won’t lose your love for it because deep in your heart, you know what’s in the heart of the city. And you’ll join others in fighting for it if necessary.