Race relations. Often strained in Detroit and everywhere else. This photograph is courtesy of the Library of Congress, and has to do with housing wartime black workers. Nice.
Detroit has had its share of troubles, especially during wartime. 1812. 1943. 1967. 2009. 1942 was a time of severe housing shortages for emigrant workers in Detroit, especially for African Americans. Here's a photo (courtesy of the Library of Congress) of soldiers with fixed bayonets patrolling the perimeter of the Sojourner Truth Housing Project. Not hard to believe -- not at all. For more:
"What's your tool?" the motivational speaker in HBO's new show, Hung, asks a group of disenfranchised Detroiters searching for ways to make money. One older man says offers advice, maybe he could charge for it. Another woman who has lost her Poet in the Schools job says she wants to make bread with poems in it -- lyric loaves. Our protagonist, a washed out baseball player and teacher at the high school he attended, thinks about it and realizes the only thing he has that is exceptional is his big, umm, appendage. I have a friend who calls motivational tapes/seminars/etc. sunshine enemas. I have to laugh because his characterization is correct. He and my sister listen to The Secret audio cds for laughs. The voice and accompanying massage spa music is perfect grounding for such bon mots as "Avert your eyes when you see an obese person. Do not look at that you do not wish to become." Jeez, and I thought it was all those twinkies I was stuffing in my mouth. My mistake.
At any rate, Hung's pilot is funny. The poet finds lyric loaves not to be the money-making endeavor she'd hoped so she agrees to pimp out our protagonist whose first attempt at selling himself is an ad in the Detroit Examiner (a stand-in for the Metro Times)that offers women endless enjoyment with "Big Donnie." He could use a wordsmith and she could use the money. There's an ex-wife, twin children, and a new husband who makes a lot of money, a fire. It seems like the kind of show about lowered expectations and sadness that I enjoy. I've always liked the line we're all in the gutter/ looking at the stars (Oscar Wilde/Chrissie Hynde -- take your pick of source), but I often find myself in the gutter, looking closely at the gutter. There's a lot to be said at being where you are, not where you wish to be. After all, the stars are reflected everywhere, even in the most unlikely places.
No, Virginia, this isn't Augusta, Georgia. It's Detroit, Michigan.
After the events of 1967 and after decades of Devil's Night fires, there are now many rural pockets like this in Detroit. All one need do to find them is to go out and explore, taking snapshots like Alberto Korda.
Motor city madness has touched the countryside And through the smoke and cinders You can hear it far and wide The doors are quickly bolted And the children locked inside
Black day in July Black day in July And the soul of Motor City is bared across the land As the book of law and order is taken in the hands Of the sons of the fathers who were carried to this land
Black day in July Black day in July In the streets of Motor City is a deadly silent sound And the body of a dead youth lies stretched upon the ground Upon the filthy pavement No reason can be found
Black day in July Black day in July Motor City madness has touched the countryside And the people rise in anger And the streets begin to fill And there's gunfire from the rooftops And the blood begins to spill
Black day in July
In the mansion of the governor There's nothing that is known for sure The telephone is ringing And the pendulum is swinging And they wonder how it happened And they really know the reason And it wasn't just the temperature And it wasn't just the season
Black day in July Black day in July Motor City's burning and the flames are running wild They reflect upon the waters of the river and the lake And everyone is listening And everyone's awake
Black day in July Black day in July The printing press is turning And the news is quickly flashed And you read your morning paper And you sip your cup of tea And you wonder just in passing Is it him or is it me
Black day in July
In the office of the President The deed is done the troops are sent There's really not much choice you see It looks to us like anarchy And then the tanks go rolling in To patch things up as best they can There is no time to hesitate The speech is made the dues can wait
Black day in July Black day in July The streets of Motor City now are quiet and serene But the shapes of gutted buildings Strike terror to the heart And you say how did it happen And you say how did it start Why can't we all be brothers Why can't we live in peace But the hands of the have-nots Keep falling out of reach
Black day in July Black day in July Motor city madness has touched the countryside And through the smoke and cinders You can hear it far and wide The doors are quickly bolted And the children locked inside
(C) Music and Lyric by Gordon Lightfoot 1968 Banned from American top 40 radio stations that same year...except in Detroit. CBC INTERVIEW 4/13/68 with Mr. Lightfoot
The Detroit Revolt against the police brutality predominantly practiced in the overcrowded Black community started less than five miles from where my family lived. I remember the clouds of smoke rising, the echo of gunfire, and having a half track full of national guard troops level their rifles at us kids as we sat on our porch after the curfew hours and ordered us back into our house. The City of Detroit was on lock down.
There has been an new used bookstore opened up in Eastpointe MI.
On May 9 the Motor City Book Drive opened. Every book is a buck.
Every inch of the space not used for the too narrow aisle ways is filled with shelves of books in every genre.
Apparently it is tied to a charity which supports literacy and environmental activism.
Give them a look because I know you all are always going to used bookstores anyways.
18135 E 9 Mile
Eastpointe
It is located on the North side of the street across from the CVS drug store. The door in is tucked in the back of the building away from the street but the sign sits thirty feet up on the corner.
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