A Broken City

“Detroit turned out to be heaven, but it also turned out to be Hell” ~Marvin Gaye

Just a few days ago, I was driving past eight-mile near Metro-Detroit. Widely considered to be the poorest part of the city, eight-mile had fallen into despair since the city was urbanized in the early 1900's. Graffiti covered abandoned buildings made from discolored red brick, and the buildings that weren't vandalized were either burned down or knocked down. Weed-filled lots lined the road, and the homeless wandered aimlessly in the streets.

Looking back, that afternoon looked an awful lot like a scene from an old, monochrome movie. Clouds shrouded the far reaches of my sight, and filtered the sunlight into an unnerving glow; tones of grey dominated the dim landscape. The rain fell relentlessly, beating down on an already beaten city. But as I drove past, staring out the car window in part wonder and part melancholy, I saw something that stuck with me:

A young boy, about my age, pedaling hard on his bicycle. He had a grey hoodie with the hood up, with faded jeans and sneakers. The harder the rain pounded down, it seemed, the harder he tried to pedal. Where did he come from? Where was he going? I pondered on these questions to no end, without really expecting to discover a satisfying answer. Still, the boy trudged through the weather with a haste. Finally, he turned the corner into a run-down alleyway, and was gone.

When I got back into the warmth and safety of my home, my thoughts drifted back to that part of Detroit. It saddened me that eight-mile, and its surrounding areas, will forever remain a tragedy in my mind: dark, foreboding, forsaken pieces of a once-glorious past. I would never get to see its best days, with street performers entertaining the crowd on the corners of shop-lined streets. I would never get to see the great car assemblies that had once built the city into the economic powerhouse that it had for so long been. To me, the lone biker represented the modern youth of the city: faded, beaten by despair, and moving in a direction that was frighteningly uncertain.

With a quick search, it is easy to find an abundance of articles, photo galleries, and documentaries covering the decline of the city. Looking at pictures of Detroit’s now abandoned landmarks, I can’t help but feel a twinge of remorse. Even in ruins, many of these buildings are stunningly beautiful. I can’t help but wonder how they may have looked in their prime.

-Chris