Tag: DTW

  • Tour de Troit

    Today I enjoyed a leisurely 30-mile-ish bike ride around downtown Detroit on the Tour de Troit. We started at Roosevelt Park, by the amazing ruined Michigan Central Station, whizzed downtown and through Campus Martius by the Compuware building, crossed the Belle Isle Bridge and spun around the circumference of Belle Isle before stopping in Gabriel Richard park for a break. We then went down Jefferson Avenue, wandered through the gracious tree-lined streets of Indian Village, and then eventually through the Wayne State/Medical Center Campus.

    The Detroit Free Press said there would be over 2,000 riders. I really can’t say, but it seemed like there were a lot of cyclists. The police escort was great. They blocked the roads for us and zoomed up and down the line on their motorcycles. With their support, we cyclists enjoyed the roads all to ourselves – no fear, no stoplights, easy biking.  It was an easy pace, sometimes we were quite slow in the pack, or held by police at a particularly busy intersection, and other times we got to speed along once the pack was stretched out. The experience was one of light effort (except at the end, when I was tired and cold) and a fizzy joy in the freedom of the streets.

    Along the route, I saw many things, and noticed a few other gaps.

    The foremost highlight was the Belle Isle Bridge, which is still lovely, and of which I’m inordinately proud as my great grandfather and I think his brothers moved to Michigan from Wisconsin to work on it. Greiling Brothers Construction Company was part of that project.

    I noticed the absence of the old Uniroyal plant, which was just to the south of the bridge on Jefferson Avenue. It had striking “mural” of tires on its walls. Now it is a field – apparently a quite polluted one at that (though there’s now a cleanup plan). I also looked for the Mexican restaurant, Armando’s I think, we frequented when I was young. I think the building was still there, but no longer a restaurant.

    I thought of more family history in that areqa, vague to me now. I think we had fancy relatives who lived in or near Indian Village. I recalled  a family friend who lived in the Whittier apartment building on Detroit’s Gold Coast of high rises overlooking the Detroit River and Windsor. We went by the Roostertail on Jefferson Avenue, site of my senior prom.  Memories flooded back of family stories and of time spent with family driving from our home in Grosse Pointe to downtown Detroit along Jefferson Avenue. We came to festivals at Hart Plaza, we came to dine, we came for ballet class for me and my sister, we went to dance events, and we came to go to church.

    As we cycled through Detroit, we passed by neighborhoods that were new to me –  new subdivisions just off of Jefferson Avenue.  We passed through neighborhoods that looked passably prosperous such as Indian Village. And we passed through neighborhoods with trees circling houses no longer there, burned out houses, empty lots, and rough looking homes and commercial buildings. We saw lots of liquor stores and dry cleaners. I don’t think I saw a grocery store. I’m not sure all of the dry cleaners were open. We saw urban gardens in reclaimed plots in the Woodbridge neighborhood.

    Some of it seemed very ordinary. Just people going about their Saturday. We saw folks mowing and weed whacking lawns, three football games, and one basketball game on a desolate lot overlooking a manufacturing plant. We saw lots of kids waving frantically as the parade of bikes went past, thrilled when we waved back. Many adults waved too. Most of the other passers by were either happy or amused to see us. Only a handful were laughing at us.  I witnessed only two incidents of negativity, both by irate drivers annoyed by having to wait for the cyclists to pass.

    We ended the ride back at Roosevelt Park, in front of the ruined Michigan Central Station building. A great day. Lots of memories, and some signs of hope to savor.

  • A taste of Detroit: tahini and Vernors (gratitude #44)

    The holidays is a time for family gatherings. We hosted my in-laws this weekend. Originally from Michigan, they love living in Massachusetts. Next weekend, I’m going to visit my sister in Tennessee. Born and raised in Michigan, my sister is happily now a southerner.

    But, I think that no matter how happy they are in their adopted homes, the tastes of home have a powerful pull. On their way out of town, my in-laws stopped to get a case of Vernors into the car. Apparently, they can’t find it in the Boston area. My sister called me this morning and asked me to bring tahini when I visit. The Detroit area has a strong Middle Eastern tradition, and she prefers what is available in Detroit Middle Eastern grocery stores to what is available in local health food stores in Tennessee.

    I’ve already got a stash of goodies to bring her. So, when I travel to Tennessee, I’ll be carrying dried Michigan cherries, Tahini from Lebanon, and ArborTeas Keemun tea from China. The taste of home, at least here in the Detroit area, has a global flavor ;).

  • I heart Detroit Coolers: Vernors and Vanilla Ice Cream (gratitude, week 7)

    Mmmm….Vernors…. again, originally uploaded by DetroitDerek.

    Back in the day there was a Sanders ice cream parlor on the main street of my town, and a big day was when I got to go there and order a Detroit Cooler–Vernors and ice cream. Vernors was one of the first soft drinks in the US, of course we locals call it “pop”.

    This weekend I woke up with a very sore throat, and along with sore throat lozenges and honeyed tea, and I remembered that my mom always gave me ginger ale for a sore throat. We had some vanilla ice cream in the freezer and tah-dah! A Detroit Cooler, cold and fizzy and sweet. Mmmmmm.

  • Dance that lifts the spirit – Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater in Detroit (gratitude week 5)

    Last night I saw the spectacular, athletic, precise, and joyful Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater at the Detroit Opera House. On the way in, I marveled, as always, at the looming ruins in Detroit – burned out and boarded up homes adjacent to the freeway, the Amtrak building, tall and empty. The desolation makes me wistful and sad.

    I met my mom at the Opera House and we walked to dinner. Our restaurant overlooked grand Comerica Park. Kids and parents and Elmo balloons streamed by the window, leaving Sesame Street Live at the Fox Theater. Foxtown was vibrant.

    Back at the Opera House, the first piece, “Love Stories” (2004) paid tribute to Ailey’s legacy. Ailey wanted to “hold a mirror to our society so people can see how beautiful they are.” The piece was a celebration of dance, of the dancers, of beauty and achievement, of power, precision, athleticism, and grace. As usual with Ailey, the night closed with Ailey’s trademark Revelations (1960), choreography to gospel music that is both sorrowful, courageous, and transcendant. The audience rose to our feet and clapped time during the encore. As we left, couples laughed and touched each other affectionately, families chattered happily. In the afterglow of the dance, all felt whole and luminous.