2024--Michigan, The Final State
Prologue
It has been only eight months since my last trip, and it seems so far in the past that it happened two years ago. I remember watching the movie “Blue Thunder” from back in the 1980s. In it was a line by protagonist/actor Roy Schnieder who says that the inability to judge how much time has elapsed is related to your sanity. By that measure, I’m going crazy.
I am really looking forward to this trip. To Detroit. Maybe I am crazy. But, two things in my defense. First, from what I have read the stuff about Detroit being unsafe and unpleasant are overblown. Like any big city, including Denver, there are areas you should stay out of. For Denver, that would be the city limits. Second, Michigan is the last of the 50 states Margo and I have to visit. Detroit seemed like our best option.
We have been actively working on this goal for 24 years. I think I started with fourteen states under my belt when I formally added this to my Bucket List in the year 2000. That means in the last 24 years we will have visited 36 states. That is better than one per year. Pretty good, huh?
But, back to Detroit. Most of what we will be seeing and doing is not in the downtown area. We are planning a pedicab tour of the town and taking in a Tigers game (against the Rockies), but the YouTubes I have watched and the reviews I have read say downtown is safe. There are car break-ins, but that is big city normal. Like I said, Looking forward to this trip.
I am really looking forward to this trip. To Detroit. Maybe I am crazy. But, two things in my defense. First, from what I have read the stuff about Detroit being unsafe and unpleasant are overblown. Like any big city, including Denver, there are areas you should stay out of. For Denver, that would be the city limits. Second, Michigan is the last of the 50 states Margo and I have to visit. Detroit seemed like our best option.
We have been actively working on this goal for 24 years. I think I started with fourteen states under my belt when I formally added this to my Bucket List in the year 2000. That means in the last 24 years we will have visited 36 states. That is better than one per year. Pretty good, huh?
But, back to Detroit. Most of what we will be seeing and doing is not in the downtown area. We are planning a pedicab tour of the town and taking in a Tigers game (against the Rockies), but the YouTubes I have watched and the reviews I have read say downtown is safe. There are car break-ins, but that is big city normal. Like I said, Looking forward to this trip.
Day One--Saturday, September 07, 2024
Margo and I had ended Friday night by taking Cooper over to Jessi and Pete’s, so they could keep an eye on him. He is finicky with his bathroom duties, having developed a fear of the backyard. We think that a bee and a snake conspired to sting and scare him. The point of this being is that I anticipated a good night’s sleep without a wiener dog hogging the bed. Not so much. I went to bed at 10 PM and tossed until past midnight. I’m usually out in 10 minutes.
I was up before my alarm at 5:30 AM. My bladder has decided that it needs to mark time every two hours by getting me out of bed to relieve myself. This past evening’s final tally mark happened sometime after 5 AM. I tried to get a little more sleep, but it did not feel like it.
Margo was up before me and had gotten showered. I took care of my morning routine and we were both ready to go by 6:30 AM. As today is Saturday, there was no traffic. We were at USAiport Parking in about 20 minutes. They got us loaded right onto a shuttle and by 7 AM, we were on our way to DIA.
We arrived before 7:30 and wrangled our bags to the outside bag drop in three minutes. It took us longer to walk to security than it did to clear it. We got on the second train to Concourse C, home of Southwest Airlines, as we felt no need to run to make the first one. We found choice seats at our gate and settled in. If things could have gone any smoother, I don’t see how. If I were a pessimistic and superstitious person, I might be looking for wood to chase away the inevitable bad luck that comes with speaking of good fortune. Instead, I just braced for impact.
Margo went and got turkey sandwiches and water for breakfast. But, neither of us was hungry, so we just added them to carry one burden. We had boarding positions A-6 and A-7, courtesy of a $110 bribe paid to Southwest to let us cut the line. As we were in B46 and B47, we were likely not going to sit together and overhead space might also be an issue. The bribe fixed that, and we got row 10.
The flight scheduled for 2 hours and 45 minutes, was 15 minutes shorter, and the bags started pouring onto the conveyor belts as soon as we walked up. Margo had placed Apple Air Tags in our two checked bags, so we already knew they had made the plane, too. So far the worst part of the trip was the long walk from our gate to baggage claim. Still waiting for impact.
There was a bus waiting for us when we walked outside. We got on, and after an interminable wait of 5 minutes, and the bus with only four other people on it, the bus pulled away. The bus driver apologized for dropping us off 20 feet from where we needed to be, and after learning we were from Colorado, professed his admiration of the greatest quarterback of all time, the legendary John Elway. An Elway fan in Detroit? Did the Broncos even play the Lions? (Yes, they did. Elway was 2-1 against Detroit. He won in 1984 and 1987, and lost in 1990, when the Broncos stunk, and went 5-11).
Renting the car went a little slow, about 15 minutes, but the counter guy was friendly and offered no sales pitch when I declined insurance coverage. We walked out to a 2023 Nissan Rouge, with plenty of room and if anything a little high, vs too low.
I am not a fan of the transmission selector. It is a knob with a button on the left side and a button on top. You push the side button and push the knob forward, that is reverse. You pull the knob back, drive. Whatever gear the car is in, press P, and it goes into park. I am assuming the latter comes with a safety feature to ensure the car is not in motion when P is engaged. But, I have not tested this theory. No impact, yet.
I forgot to mention that Detroit is in the Eastern time zone. I forget how far east it really is. It was now about 3 PM EDT, as we pulled into the Best Western Greenfield Inn. That makes it only 1 PM back home, putting us 3 ½ hours into our journey. We checked into a ground-floor room only thirty feet from the counter. Margo found a luggage cart and we were walking into our room three minutes later.
I was up before my alarm at 5:30 AM. My bladder has decided that it needs to mark time every two hours by getting me out of bed to relieve myself. This past evening’s final tally mark happened sometime after 5 AM. I tried to get a little more sleep, but it did not feel like it.
Margo was up before me and had gotten showered. I took care of my morning routine and we were both ready to go by 6:30 AM. As today is Saturday, there was no traffic. We were at USAiport Parking in about 20 minutes. They got us loaded right onto a shuttle and by 7 AM, we were on our way to DIA.
We arrived before 7:30 and wrangled our bags to the outside bag drop in three minutes. It took us longer to walk to security than it did to clear it. We got on the second train to Concourse C, home of Southwest Airlines, as we felt no need to run to make the first one. We found choice seats at our gate and settled in. If things could have gone any smoother, I don’t see how. If I were a pessimistic and superstitious person, I might be looking for wood to chase away the inevitable bad luck that comes with speaking of good fortune. Instead, I just braced for impact.
Margo went and got turkey sandwiches and water for breakfast. But, neither of us was hungry, so we just added them to carry one burden. We had boarding positions A-6 and A-7, courtesy of a $110 bribe paid to Southwest to let us cut the line. As we were in B46 and B47, we were likely not going to sit together and overhead space might also be an issue. The bribe fixed that, and we got row 10.
The flight scheduled for 2 hours and 45 minutes, was 15 minutes shorter, and the bags started pouring onto the conveyor belts as soon as we walked up. Margo had placed Apple Air Tags in our two checked bags, so we already knew they had made the plane, too. So far the worst part of the trip was the long walk from our gate to baggage claim. Still waiting for impact.
There was a bus waiting for us when we walked outside. We got on, and after an interminable wait of 5 minutes, and the bus with only four other people on it, the bus pulled away. The bus driver apologized for dropping us off 20 feet from where we needed to be, and after learning we were from Colorado, professed his admiration of the greatest quarterback of all time, the legendary John Elway. An Elway fan in Detroit? Did the Broncos even play the Lions? (Yes, they did. Elway was 2-1 against Detroit. He won in 1984 and 1987, and lost in 1990, when the Broncos stunk, and went 5-11).
Renting the car went a little slow, about 15 minutes, but the counter guy was friendly and offered no sales pitch when I declined insurance coverage. We walked out to a 2023 Nissan Rouge, with plenty of room and if anything a little high, vs too low.
I am not a fan of the transmission selector. It is a knob with a button on the left side and a button on top. You push the side button and push the knob forward, that is reverse. You pull the knob back, drive. Whatever gear the car is in, press P, and it goes into park. I am assuming the latter comes with a safety feature to ensure the car is not in motion when P is engaged. But, I have not tested this theory. No impact, yet.
I forgot to mention that Detroit is in the Eastern time zone. I forget how far east it really is. It was now about 3 PM EDT, as we pulled into the Best Western Greenfield Inn. That makes it only 1 PM back home, putting us 3 ½ hours into our journey. We checked into a ground-floor room only thirty feet from the counter. Margo found a luggage cart and we were walking into our room three minutes later.
Best Western Greenfield Village
Allen Park, MI
The Pink Palace
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The first thing you notice about the Greenfield Inn is that it is pink. It’s an older building, but it has been kept up. It is clean and nicely appointed. The shower water pressure is just barely adequate and the toilets flush slowly. It also has the slowest Wi-Fi I have ever encountered in my travels. But, it ended up making a very nice base camp for the trip.
As soon as we settled in Margo started unpacking, getting things in drawers, and hung up. She likes to get that chore handled and out of the way. Then we drove over to the shopping center nearby to a regional place called Meijers. I think it is pronounced Meyers. It’s similar to a Super Walmart or Target. We need supplies. Snacks, water, pop, spoons, etc. Stuff to last for a week. We were hungry by now and decided to eat at the hotel restaurant, Mugly’s. I had a Chicken Parmesan and Margo had a very large nachos. Mine was just OK. The breading was too thick and hard to cut. Margo said her nachos were good. This was about 5:30 PM, which was more like 3:30 back home, so it was really our lunch. The hotel has an indoor pool, hot tub, and dry sauna. We did not try the pool. The hot tub was only warm, but the sauna was plenty hot. Bed at 10 PM That was it for Day one. Our first real day of vacation begins tomorrow. |
Mugly
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Day Two--Sunday, September 08, 2024
Neither of us slept well. I got up a bit before 7 AM, without benefit of an alarm. Margo had been up and down all night. She got in the shower first, while I scouted out Mugly’s to see what was for breakfast. Best Westerns usually have a free breakfast, often a hot one. The BW does theirs down the hall at the in-house restaurant, Mugly’s. It is set up buffet style. I found they had yogurt, cold cereal, scrambled eggs, ham, hash browns, apples, and bananas ready for the plating.
By the time I got back, Margo was done and I got in. There was no hurry as we had all day to complete the two things I had planned for Margo. Today was Margo Day. She knew it, but I had kept the details from her. She was not pleased. I guess I will be keeping you in the dark as well.
We were eating breakfast by 8 AM and then on the road by 8:40 AM. Even though she knew I would not tell her she asked where we were going. Instead of an answer I offered to play 20 questions to help kill the time. That part worked, as well as my hints given after question 10, 15, and 18. She guessed the destination after 18. The answer we were going to Hell. Michigan.
I learned that this unincorporated town is the only place in the US named Hell. It is also the name of the Homeowners Association. It has a population of 72 people. The guy who owns the area where we are going is John Calone. I did not know who he was until we were to meet later. But, the question on your mind is “Why drive an hour to visit a town, just because it is called Hell? Because for a small bribe, I was able to have Margo named Mayor for the Day. OK, it is not a bribe. They offer this as a hoot.
Hell consists of three buildings; Uptown is the Hell Saloon, mid-town is Screams, a combination ice cream shop, a souvenir shop, and headquarters for the business of Hell, and downtown is the Hell Saloon.
We pulled into Screams at 9:45. For future reference Hell does not open until 10 AM. So we were early to Hell. They have a sign on the side of the building, which faces the parking lot. It lists the Mayor of the Day and the date. Margo’s name was not on this sign, so I was disappointed. She did not know what was going on, so she barely noticed the sign.
She was wondering why I had dragged her out there. I pointed out what was visible, a putt-putt golf course, a tiny chapel (which I would come to learn the local Catholic church does not approve of), the peaceful, green, tree-lined grounds, and numerous signs with the faces cut out. Interesting, but not worthy of two hours, round-trip.
I was saved further tap dancing when a lady showed up and started unlocking things. I quietly let her know that the Mayor was here. From that point on things got moving a bit. Another lady arrived and we were soon outside taking Margo’s picture under the sign proclaiming her day in office. The lady told me that usually, that is her last duty in her opening routine and that the Mayor usually does not arrive first thing. But, she rolled it with.
Margo was already smiling as she was led back inside for her swearing-in ceremony. It began with her being asked to put on a pair of devil horns. What else would the Mayor of Hell wear? As it was custom where these, she would be recognized by the employees that she came in contact with and all would say “Morning Mayor” or “Hey, Mayor”.
The ceremony progressed with the reading of her proclamation and the awarding of a deed to one square inch of Hell. So, in addition to her being the mayor, she is also a property owner in Hell. She was given a shopping bag, a coffee mug, stickers, and I don’t know what else. She looked very happy.
About this time an elderly gentleman walks in the door. Elderly is a term I am able to use less and less, as Contemporary is becoming the norm. But, this gentleman was older than me. It turned out he was 80 years old, and the owner of Hell, the aforementioned John Calone.
The lady that swore in Margo quickly identified John as the owner and asked if he would like to give the mayor a tour of her domain. He looked genuinely excited to do just that. In less than 5 minutes we went out the front door and John started his tour. He began showing us the other signs on the Screams building. These were on the same side as Margo’s mayor sign. The most prominent was the one welcoming people to Hell. John said it was the most photographed sign in the state. We went to a shed-like building that had a Hysterical Marker on it (as opposed to a Historical Marker. It would become clear that John never met a pun or play on words he did not like). It told about Geroge Reeves who bought the land in this area to put up a lumber mill, and then a grist mill. When asked about giving his town a name three years after his business opened, he said “Call it Hell for all I care.” They did.
We walked over towards the creek and America’s shortest River Walk. We walked down a 20-foot dirt path, pretty steep, and then about fifty feet of dirt path along the creek, to a wooden viewing platform of the Hell Creek dam. This small dam helped with flood control and keeps Hiland Lake deep enough for fishing and small recreation. Then it was a flight of stairs. This is when the mood of the day changed.
John had been interjecting his life’s story, especially when Margo or I would ask questions. He told us of his Colorado connection when he found out where we were from. He had been sent to Fitzsimmons to rehab after Vietnam. He helped to start a training program for injured vets to learn a trade. He ended up in the auto sales business. He bought a Chrysler business in Pickney and built it to the 4th largest in the state.
Towards the rear of the Screams shop is Hell’s Chapel. It was built by local carpenters, and they actually did a really nice job. It has an altar and 8 seats for guests. They have several weddings a year. John said he heard from the local Catholic church recently, and they are not pleased with him marrying people in a chapel in Hell.
I had not noticed, but John had a damaged arm. It was like Senator Bob Dole’s, and as it turned out, for the same reason. He was seriously injured in Vietnam. He told us that after an attack by the enemy, he was thought to be dead and his folks were notified of that. He was put in a body bag, but somehow, even though unconscious rolled off the stack. They put him back, and he did it again. They opened the bag, and checked, but could not find a pulse. A medic checked for an involuntary reflex that would not be there on a dead person. It was there. They were very worried about brain damage, but he ended up being fine, at least in that area.
After we climbed the stairs from the River Walk we encountered the Locks of Love. This is a fence in which you can purchase or bring a lock and lock in your love at Hell. Apparently locking your love in Hell does not guarantee eternal happiness. John said that they have had to cut four locks back off the fence for relationships that did not make it.
Again, the mood changed as John took us to a white sign with a blue star, overlooking a kneeling soldier. This is called the Grieving Yard. The sign holds a poem written by John as he visited the parents of one of his men, who did not come home. Margo nearly cried as he read the poem. He said the poem just flowed out in its entirety as he was visiting.
We moved on the Scattering Yard, a small, picturesque place where for a fee you can have remains scattered. After The Grieving Yard, this had less humor than I would ordinarily find. The Scattering Yard is surrounded by a fence that he bought from the Boy Scouts, who had it donated to them. I think it came from a local cemetery. He also told us the story of the gate, which was made by the Cyclone Fence company. He scavenged it years ago because of that. For the longest time, after he got out of the army, he went by Cy Calone, as where he worked where there were three other Johns. One of the guys called him Cy, and it stuck. When he saw the gate he had to have it.
John showed us his miniature golf course and told us about its construction and the fight with the county over signage. He told us the story of George Reeves, Hell’s founder, wandering off into the woods never to be seen again. He then told us they had found George’s remains when excavating for the golf course. Ever since they have been handing out George’s remains as a souvenir. The Reeveses Pieces in the ice cream shop are peanut butter flavored. Like I said John never met a pun or play on words he did not like. He told us he designed most of the T-shirts in the shop. There are a lot of them.
About the time we were heading back from the river walk area, I heard music start to play and thought little of it. John said that it was Buddy Keys, a local musician who has been playing and entertaining people here for 20 years. When we got close he noticed Margo’s horns, looked to sign to get her name, and yelled “Hi Mayor! Hi, Mayor Margo” Then saluted. Then he started playing Hail to the Chief and we all stopped and saluted or put our hand on our hearts. This included several other patrons of Hell, who had come for their own brand of entertainment. Margo didn’t know what to do, so she covered her heart and waited for the end of the song. It was great. I gave him $20 as he worked for tips, and this was just perfect. As we walked into Screams other people were saying hi to the Mayor. She was all smiles.
We went inside and got a mini tour of the Screams building. It is loaded with Hell merchandise. If you have seen it in a souvenir shop, Screams has it. We managed to buy another $80 worth of stuff, even after they gave the mayor a bunch.
John showed us a second gate, which he said came from the old Catholic church which was being torn down. The gate was sitting on a discard pile of some sort, so he took it. This was years before he was to buy Hell. Now it is a decoration.
He told us about when Pepsi came up with some sort of spicy version of Mountain Dew (Flamin’ Hot Mountain Dew in 2022), and they came to film a commercial (they made it the official drink of Hell), he said it was a wild time, and he got to keep all of the decorations, set pieces, and even a golf cart.
We purchased our souvenirs, which included several postcards. Two of them I mailed back home. They singe everyone with a lighter, so people can see for themselves we were really in Hell.
But, we were done with Hell. We had spent about three hours in Hell and I had another surprise for Margo. Plus we were hungry. But first, the Mayor had to be impeached. They had an impeachment ceremony, in which Margo got another certificate and a T-shirt commemorating her time in office. We bid everyone goodbye and thanked them. It had been fun.
But, wait. In downtown Hell, there is Hell’s Saloon, which serves a mean burger. The best in Hell. So we went in for lunch. Margo was recognized as the Mayor, I made her leave her horns on, and she got a kick out of that, too. One regular burger for me. One mushroom burger for Margo. Then we truly left Hell. It was time for our hour-long trip back home.
We ended up making a pitstop about 8 miles into our trip back. We saw a farmer’s market in Dexter, MI on the way in. It advertised cider doughnuts. We had not had those since our trip to Vermont. Plus, Margo had to pee. We took care of both. Margo did not want any doughnuts and they sold them 6 at a time. I had one, and the other five ended up as part of breakfast for the rest of the trip.
We got back to the hotel around 3:00. We had decided that we needed a Styrofoam cooler, as our hotel frig would keep things cool, but not cold. So we got ice and a cooler, went back to the hotel, filled it up, and were on our way to Detroit proper.
She was of course curious as to where we were going. On the way to Hell, one of her first guesses was “to a casino”, so I knew this was on her mind. It was only a fifteen-minute drive. I gave her hints on the way in. The final hint, which was given to her as we took the exit off the highway was an envelope with cash. Then she got it. But, she was still confused. She thought the only casinos were across the river in Windsor, Canada. Then I pointed up. There was the MGM Grand parking garage. Smiling again.
We only spent about four hours there, which included eating the most expensive (over $60, including tip) Chinese food meal I have ever had, and it was fast food. They were not done taking my money as I lost $120. Margo lost more, but that was planned. It was really just entertainment dollars. This was her day, because most of the other days we would be doing things I liked. It only seemed right to give her one day to herself.
We got back to the hotel about 9 PM and I went to bed two hours later. The mayor only lasted about an hour, before her honor was sawing logs, and having devilish dreams.
By the time I got back, Margo was done and I got in. There was no hurry as we had all day to complete the two things I had planned for Margo. Today was Margo Day. She knew it, but I had kept the details from her. She was not pleased. I guess I will be keeping you in the dark as well.
We were eating breakfast by 8 AM and then on the road by 8:40 AM. Even though she knew I would not tell her she asked where we were going. Instead of an answer I offered to play 20 questions to help kill the time. That part worked, as well as my hints given after question 10, 15, and 18. She guessed the destination after 18. The answer we were going to Hell. Michigan.
I learned that this unincorporated town is the only place in the US named Hell. It is also the name of the Homeowners Association. It has a population of 72 people. The guy who owns the area where we are going is John Calone. I did not know who he was until we were to meet later. But, the question on your mind is “Why drive an hour to visit a town, just because it is called Hell? Because for a small bribe, I was able to have Margo named Mayor for the Day. OK, it is not a bribe. They offer this as a hoot.
Hell consists of three buildings; Uptown is the Hell Saloon, mid-town is Screams, a combination ice cream shop, a souvenir shop, and headquarters for the business of Hell, and downtown is the Hell Saloon.
We pulled into Screams at 9:45. For future reference Hell does not open until 10 AM. So we were early to Hell. They have a sign on the side of the building, which faces the parking lot. It lists the Mayor of the Day and the date. Margo’s name was not on this sign, so I was disappointed. She did not know what was going on, so she barely noticed the sign.
She was wondering why I had dragged her out there. I pointed out what was visible, a putt-putt golf course, a tiny chapel (which I would come to learn the local Catholic church does not approve of), the peaceful, green, tree-lined grounds, and numerous signs with the faces cut out. Interesting, but not worthy of two hours, round-trip.
I was saved further tap dancing when a lady showed up and started unlocking things. I quietly let her know that the Mayor was here. From that point on things got moving a bit. Another lady arrived and we were soon outside taking Margo’s picture under the sign proclaiming her day in office. The lady told me that usually, that is her last duty in her opening routine and that the Mayor usually does not arrive first thing. But, she rolled it with.
Margo was already smiling as she was led back inside for her swearing-in ceremony. It began with her being asked to put on a pair of devil horns. What else would the Mayor of Hell wear? As it was custom where these, she would be recognized by the employees that she came in contact with and all would say “Morning Mayor” or “Hey, Mayor”.
The ceremony progressed with the reading of her proclamation and the awarding of a deed to one square inch of Hell. So, in addition to her being the mayor, she is also a property owner in Hell. She was given a shopping bag, a coffee mug, stickers, and I don’t know what else. She looked very happy.
About this time an elderly gentleman walks in the door. Elderly is a term I am able to use less and less, as Contemporary is becoming the norm. But, this gentleman was older than me. It turned out he was 80 years old, and the owner of Hell, the aforementioned John Calone.
The lady that swore in Margo quickly identified John as the owner and asked if he would like to give the mayor a tour of her domain. He looked genuinely excited to do just that. In less than 5 minutes we went out the front door and John started his tour. He began showing us the other signs on the Screams building. These were on the same side as Margo’s mayor sign. The most prominent was the one welcoming people to Hell. John said it was the most photographed sign in the state. We went to a shed-like building that had a Hysterical Marker on it (as opposed to a Historical Marker. It would become clear that John never met a pun or play on words he did not like). It told about Geroge Reeves who bought the land in this area to put up a lumber mill, and then a grist mill. When asked about giving his town a name three years after his business opened, he said “Call it Hell for all I care.” They did.
We walked over towards the creek and America’s shortest River Walk. We walked down a 20-foot dirt path, pretty steep, and then about fifty feet of dirt path along the creek, to a wooden viewing platform of the Hell Creek dam. This small dam helped with flood control and keeps Hiland Lake deep enough for fishing and small recreation. Then it was a flight of stairs. This is when the mood of the day changed.
John had been interjecting his life’s story, especially when Margo or I would ask questions. He told us of his Colorado connection when he found out where we were from. He had been sent to Fitzsimmons to rehab after Vietnam. He helped to start a training program for injured vets to learn a trade. He ended up in the auto sales business. He bought a Chrysler business in Pickney and built it to the 4th largest in the state.
Towards the rear of the Screams shop is Hell’s Chapel. It was built by local carpenters, and they actually did a really nice job. It has an altar and 8 seats for guests. They have several weddings a year. John said he heard from the local Catholic church recently, and they are not pleased with him marrying people in a chapel in Hell.
I had not noticed, but John had a damaged arm. It was like Senator Bob Dole’s, and as it turned out, for the same reason. He was seriously injured in Vietnam. He told us that after an attack by the enemy, he was thought to be dead and his folks were notified of that. He was put in a body bag, but somehow, even though unconscious rolled off the stack. They put him back, and he did it again. They opened the bag, and checked, but could not find a pulse. A medic checked for an involuntary reflex that would not be there on a dead person. It was there. They were very worried about brain damage, but he ended up being fine, at least in that area.
After we climbed the stairs from the River Walk we encountered the Locks of Love. This is a fence in which you can purchase or bring a lock and lock in your love at Hell. Apparently locking your love in Hell does not guarantee eternal happiness. John said that they have had to cut four locks back off the fence for relationships that did not make it.
Again, the mood changed as John took us to a white sign with a blue star, overlooking a kneeling soldier. This is called the Grieving Yard. The sign holds a poem written by John as he visited the parents of one of his men, who did not come home. Margo nearly cried as he read the poem. He said the poem just flowed out in its entirety as he was visiting.
We moved on the Scattering Yard, a small, picturesque place where for a fee you can have remains scattered. After The Grieving Yard, this had less humor than I would ordinarily find. The Scattering Yard is surrounded by a fence that he bought from the Boy Scouts, who had it donated to them. I think it came from a local cemetery. He also told us the story of the gate, which was made by the Cyclone Fence company. He scavenged it years ago because of that. For the longest time, after he got out of the army, he went by Cy Calone, as where he worked where there were three other Johns. One of the guys called him Cy, and it stuck. When he saw the gate he had to have it.
John showed us his miniature golf course and told us about its construction and the fight with the county over signage. He told us the story of George Reeves, Hell’s founder, wandering off into the woods never to be seen again. He then told us they had found George’s remains when excavating for the golf course. Ever since they have been handing out George’s remains as a souvenir. The Reeveses Pieces in the ice cream shop are peanut butter flavored. Like I said John never met a pun or play on words he did not like. He told us he designed most of the T-shirts in the shop. There are a lot of them.
About the time we were heading back from the river walk area, I heard music start to play and thought little of it. John said that it was Buddy Keys, a local musician who has been playing and entertaining people here for 20 years. When we got close he noticed Margo’s horns, looked to sign to get her name, and yelled “Hi Mayor! Hi, Mayor Margo” Then saluted. Then he started playing Hail to the Chief and we all stopped and saluted or put our hand on our hearts. This included several other patrons of Hell, who had come for their own brand of entertainment. Margo didn’t know what to do, so she covered her heart and waited for the end of the song. It was great. I gave him $20 as he worked for tips, and this was just perfect. As we walked into Screams other people were saying hi to the Mayor. She was all smiles.
We went inside and got a mini tour of the Screams building. It is loaded with Hell merchandise. If you have seen it in a souvenir shop, Screams has it. We managed to buy another $80 worth of stuff, even after they gave the mayor a bunch.
John showed us a second gate, which he said came from the old Catholic church which was being torn down. The gate was sitting on a discard pile of some sort, so he took it. This was years before he was to buy Hell. Now it is a decoration.
He told us about when Pepsi came up with some sort of spicy version of Mountain Dew (Flamin’ Hot Mountain Dew in 2022), and they came to film a commercial (they made it the official drink of Hell), he said it was a wild time, and he got to keep all of the decorations, set pieces, and even a golf cart.
We purchased our souvenirs, which included several postcards. Two of them I mailed back home. They singe everyone with a lighter, so people can see for themselves we were really in Hell.
But, we were done with Hell. We had spent about three hours in Hell and I had another surprise for Margo. Plus we were hungry. But first, the Mayor had to be impeached. They had an impeachment ceremony, in which Margo got another certificate and a T-shirt commemorating her time in office. We bid everyone goodbye and thanked them. It had been fun.
But, wait. In downtown Hell, there is Hell’s Saloon, which serves a mean burger. The best in Hell. So we went in for lunch. Margo was recognized as the Mayor, I made her leave her horns on, and she got a kick out of that, too. One regular burger for me. One mushroom burger for Margo. Then we truly left Hell. It was time for our hour-long trip back home.
We ended up making a pitstop about 8 miles into our trip back. We saw a farmer’s market in Dexter, MI on the way in. It advertised cider doughnuts. We had not had those since our trip to Vermont. Plus, Margo had to pee. We took care of both. Margo did not want any doughnuts and they sold them 6 at a time. I had one, and the other five ended up as part of breakfast for the rest of the trip.
We got back to the hotel around 3:00. We had decided that we needed a Styrofoam cooler, as our hotel frig would keep things cool, but not cold. So we got ice and a cooler, went back to the hotel, filled it up, and were on our way to Detroit proper.
She was of course curious as to where we were going. On the way to Hell, one of her first guesses was “to a casino”, so I knew this was on her mind. It was only a fifteen-minute drive. I gave her hints on the way in. The final hint, which was given to her as we took the exit off the highway was an envelope with cash. Then she got it. But, she was still confused. She thought the only casinos were across the river in Windsor, Canada. Then I pointed up. There was the MGM Grand parking garage. Smiling again.
We only spent about four hours there, which included eating the most expensive (over $60, including tip) Chinese food meal I have ever had, and it was fast food. They were not done taking my money as I lost $120. Margo lost more, but that was planned. It was really just entertainment dollars. This was her day, because most of the other days we would be doing things I liked. It only seemed right to give her one day to herself.
We got back to the hotel about 9 PM and I went to bed two hours later. The mayor only lasted about an hour, before her honor was sawing logs, and having devilish dreams.
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The Mayor of Hell, MI
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Swearing In Ceremony
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Note the horns!
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Twins?
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The Grieving Yard--Vietnam Solider Memorial
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Day Three--Monday, September 09, 2024
Today began at 7:30 AM when the alarm went off. I slept better than yesterday. My watch graded it an 84, out of 100. For me, that is really good. I’m usually in the 70s. We were at Mugly’s for the breakfast buffet. Just inside the entrance to Mugly’s is a large gnome/witch-looking statue. I had Margo stand by it, and I took her picture. I said I was going to title the post, “Twins”. She was not amused. I did not post the picture (until now). We finished breakfast and were out the door at 9:25, which was about 10 minutes late.
Our destination of the day was The Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation, known just as The Henry Ford. I had heard about this museum and tomorrow’s destination, Greenfield Village, but never really thought much about them. At least not until it came time to plan for this trip. Then the more I dug into the museum the more excited I got about going.
The Henry Ford opens at 9:30. I wanted to get there early to not only see the exhibits before the crowds set in, but also to ensure we got a mobility scooter for Margo. There was no way, with her ankle, that she was going to walk around for 6-8 hours. This museum was going to take every bit of that to see everything.
We had no problems getting the scooter, and headed to the first exhibit we saw, the Presidential Limousines. I have no idea how they acquired these historic cars, but they have, and have on display Ronald Reagan’s limo from the day Hinkley tried to assassinate him in 1981. Behind that was the limo carrying JFK, Jackie, and the governor and Mrs. Connally, when Kennedy was killed. Behind that was the limo used by Eisenhower. Behind that was the Sunshine Special, the first car custom-built for the president, FDR. And, finally, behind that was the carriage, used by Teddy Roosevelt.
The plague said that Teddy was not fond of cars, and preferred the horsedrawn carriage. They were still pretty new when he was president, so it is small wonder. JFK’s limo was enclosed, after he was shot, and used another 9 years before it was retired. It looks very different with the hard top than you see in the film clips.
We moved on the historic trains. Dominating this area was the Allegheny steam locomotive. This was massive, 125 feet long, and nearly 17 feet high. The wheels are as tall as Margo. They were built in 1941, and used primarily for hauling 10,000-ton loads of coal. Coal was in great need for World War II. There were 60 of these built and only two survive. The other 58 were scrapped.
The other train of note was the Dewitt Clinton replica. This was the first passenger train in America. The passenger cars all look like stagecoaches. The replica, made with what original parts they could find, was made of the 1893 Columbian Exposition (The Chicago World’s Fair). Henry Ford bought it in 1939.
We spend most of the next couple of hours looking at cars and car-related things. We saw a film about race car driver Dan Gurney, who I think I had heard of, but was much more of a big deal than I knew. He and AJ Foyt won LeMans in 1967. That was the year after Ford vs Ferrari. The Gurney/Ford team were both Americans driving an American car, that was also built in America. That is the only time that has happened.
Seeing all the old cars, I started wondering about Dad’s first car. All I knew about was that he said it was a Packard. I have a photo that I have labeled “Earl’s first car”, but after identifying it as a 1954 Chevy Bel Aire (Later this evening), and seeing the foreground and background, I think this is Mom’s first car. Oh, well, I tried. I wonder if Dad ever mentioned anything to Darrin and Jayme.
We saw the 1911 Marmon Wasp, which was the first car to win at the Indianapolis 500. Around the corner from that was a 1948 Tucker. They made a movie called Tucker about the man who tried to build this car. There was the 1903 Packard Model F, the second car to drive cross county. The first car was a 1901 Winton, and the two cars were competing to complete the drive. There is a book that chronicles this adventure, called “Horatio’s Drive”. It was written from the point of view of the Winton driver and is a very interesting story. I have read it twice. Might be a third read in the future.
The is a display showing the 1901 Ford, with both a driver and a co-driver riding on the running board. The running board guy was needed to operate the gear levers and oilers for the moving parts. The main driver took care of steering, plus the throttle or brake. It looked to have been designed on the fly. The money and more important the prestige that came with winning this race enabled Ford to make his third, and final attempt to start a car company.
Continuing with cars. There was a signboard about Louis Chevrolet. Wasn’t that nice of The Henry Ford to include him? I had heard of Louis Chevrolet before and knew he was a race car driver. I thought he was French. He was Swiss. He founded Chevrolet Motor Company with William C. Durant, who had founded General Motors, but had been removed. Chevrolet sold his shares to Durant, and Durant used the clout of his Chevy stock to reacquire GM. I was the Wild West back in the days of the horseless carriage.
I saw the Goldenrod, a very long and narrow car, which was used to set the land speed record in 1965. The final car I looked at, and believe me there were many more, was an exploded Model T. Not exploded in the sense that someone used dynamite, but that it was taken apart and the parts held so you can see where they went and how they interacted with each other. It was really a pretty simple machine when you look at the components, but that is what made it special. Simple meant easy to assemble. Easy meant quick. Quick meant more produced in the same amount of time, which meant cheaper prices. That was Ford’s goal with the Model T. He actually lowered the price of the Model T as he became better at building them.
We were hungry now and moved out of this racing section. We found Lamy’s Diner, which purports to be a 1946 diner from Massachusetts. It had a limited menu. I ended up with a Sloppy Joe and chips. Margo had a chicken salad and chips. I added a Faygo Orange soda (not in the same league as a Stewart’s Orange Cream) and a frappe. A frappe is a “Massachusetts” milkshake. It was good, but the ice cream did not seem to be cold.
We saw an old Holiday Inn sign, a McDonald’s sign with the changeable “Millions sold” sign, an A&W sign, and one for White Castle. Americana at its finest.
We moved on to the Liberty and Justice for All area. Here they had a visual exhibit on Thomas Paine’s pamphlet “Common Sense” and how it changed thinking in pre-Revolution America. There was the chair Abraham Lincoln was sitting in, at Ford’s Theater, when he was shot. It looked to have his blood still on it. There was a “Whites Only” setup that brought to life segregation in America. Near that was a Ku Klux Klan display, complete with the white hooded uniform. It was a bit disturbing. Finally, the bus Rosa Parks sat in when she refused to move to the back of the bus.
The display did not show much, and I got more information from the website. This bus had been sitting on someone’s property being used as a storage shed. The pictures show it gutted, with no wheels. They had a docent to answer questions. I had to ask how they knew they got the right bus. I mean it was decades after the event. The lady lit up with this question and said I am glad you asked. She said that in their research they found a City Bus line manager who had kept a scrapbook. In this scrapbook, on something about the event he had made the note Blake 2857. Blake was the name of the bus driver, and 2857 was the bus number. Additional research showed that Blake was driving the Cleveland Ave bus that day, which was the line Rosa Parks would have ridden. The bus number was stamped into a piece of the bus near the driver. The bus looked brand new.
We continued on, but we were both running out of steam. Even Margo on her scooter was getting tired. There was a huge display of telephones running the gambit from Alexander Grahan Bell’s first commercial phone (it looked like a small wooden box) to a 1980s brick wireless phone.
We saw a replica of the Wright Brothers Flyer. We had seen the original at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington DC, but it was hanging from the ceiling. This looked much bigger and flimsy. It was built in 2004, to commemorate the 100th anniversary of that first powered flight.
Margo had to see the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile in honor of Cooper, our dachshund. It’s one used in 1950. It’s built on a Dodge chassis and has a Chevy 350 V-8. Good choice.
The last museum exhibit was saw was of Hallmark Christmas ornaments. This was something Margo wanted to see. There were hundreds of these things. In truth, not one of them held any interest to me. But, the genre must hold great appeal to warrant the space that was taking up.
We ended our visit at the Museum store. I got a T-shirt, even though their selection was terrible. Margo got a magnet and a puzzle. We then returned the scooter and left for the hotel.
Dinner was at Mugly’s again. I had a Ruben sandwich, which was OK. Margo had the cheesy.
breadsticks, which was more like a cheese pizza with no sauce. It was incredibly oily and I thought inedible. Margo had two pieces and gave up.
We spent the rest of the night lounging in the room and writing. It was a nice way to wind down the evening, instead of rushing all day and night. Maybe we will make this our norm from now on.
Our destination of the day was The Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation, known just as The Henry Ford. I had heard about this museum and tomorrow’s destination, Greenfield Village, but never really thought much about them. At least not until it came time to plan for this trip. Then the more I dug into the museum the more excited I got about going.
The Henry Ford opens at 9:30. I wanted to get there early to not only see the exhibits before the crowds set in, but also to ensure we got a mobility scooter for Margo. There was no way, with her ankle, that she was going to walk around for 6-8 hours. This museum was going to take every bit of that to see everything.
We had no problems getting the scooter, and headed to the first exhibit we saw, the Presidential Limousines. I have no idea how they acquired these historic cars, but they have, and have on display Ronald Reagan’s limo from the day Hinkley tried to assassinate him in 1981. Behind that was the limo carrying JFK, Jackie, and the governor and Mrs. Connally, when Kennedy was killed. Behind that was the limo used by Eisenhower. Behind that was the Sunshine Special, the first car custom-built for the president, FDR. And, finally, behind that was the carriage, used by Teddy Roosevelt.
The plague said that Teddy was not fond of cars, and preferred the horsedrawn carriage. They were still pretty new when he was president, so it is small wonder. JFK’s limo was enclosed, after he was shot, and used another 9 years before it was retired. It looks very different with the hard top than you see in the film clips.
We moved on the historic trains. Dominating this area was the Allegheny steam locomotive. This was massive, 125 feet long, and nearly 17 feet high. The wheels are as tall as Margo. They were built in 1941, and used primarily for hauling 10,000-ton loads of coal. Coal was in great need for World War II. There were 60 of these built and only two survive. The other 58 were scrapped.
The other train of note was the Dewitt Clinton replica. This was the first passenger train in America. The passenger cars all look like stagecoaches. The replica, made with what original parts they could find, was made of the 1893 Columbian Exposition (The Chicago World’s Fair). Henry Ford bought it in 1939.
We spend most of the next couple of hours looking at cars and car-related things. We saw a film about race car driver Dan Gurney, who I think I had heard of, but was much more of a big deal than I knew. He and AJ Foyt won LeMans in 1967. That was the year after Ford vs Ferrari. The Gurney/Ford team were both Americans driving an American car, that was also built in America. That is the only time that has happened.
Seeing all the old cars, I started wondering about Dad’s first car. All I knew about was that he said it was a Packard. I have a photo that I have labeled “Earl’s first car”, but after identifying it as a 1954 Chevy Bel Aire (Later this evening), and seeing the foreground and background, I think this is Mom’s first car. Oh, well, I tried. I wonder if Dad ever mentioned anything to Darrin and Jayme.
We saw the 1911 Marmon Wasp, which was the first car to win at the Indianapolis 500. Around the corner from that was a 1948 Tucker. They made a movie called Tucker about the man who tried to build this car. There was the 1903 Packard Model F, the second car to drive cross county. The first car was a 1901 Winton, and the two cars were competing to complete the drive. There is a book that chronicles this adventure, called “Horatio’s Drive”. It was written from the point of view of the Winton driver and is a very interesting story. I have read it twice. Might be a third read in the future.
The is a display showing the 1901 Ford, with both a driver and a co-driver riding on the running board. The running board guy was needed to operate the gear levers and oilers for the moving parts. The main driver took care of steering, plus the throttle or brake. It looked to have been designed on the fly. The money and more important the prestige that came with winning this race enabled Ford to make his third, and final attempt to start a car company.
Continuing with cars. There was a signboard about Louis Chevrolet. Wasn’t that nice of The Henry Ford to include him? I had heard of Louis Chevrolet before and knew he was a race car driver. I thought he was French. He was Swiss. He founded Chevrolet Motor Company with William C. Durant, who had founded General Motors, but had been removed. Chevrolet sold his shares to Durant, and Durant used the clout of his Chevy stock to reacquire GM. I was the Wild West back in the days of the horseless carriage.
I saw the Goldenrod, a very long and narrow car, which was used to set the land speed record in 1965. The final car I looked at, and believe me there were many more, was an exploded Model T. Not exploded in the sense that someone used dynamite, but that it was taken apart and the parts held so you can see where they went and how they interacted with each other. It was really a pretty simple machine when you look at the components, but that is what made it special. Simple meant easy to assemble. Easy meant quick. Quick meant more produced in the same amount of time, which meant cheaper prices. That was Ford’s goal with the Model T. He actually lowered the price of the Model T as he became better at building them.
We were hungry now and moved out of this racing section. We found Lamy’s Diner, which purports to be a 1946 diner from Massachusetts. It had a limited menu. I ended up with a Sloppy Joe and chips. Margo had a chicken salad and chips. I added a Faygo Orange soda (not in the same league as a Stewart’s Orange Cream) and a frappe. A frappe is a “Massachusetts” milkshake. It was good, but the ice cream did not seem to be cold.
We saw an old Holiday Inn sign, a McDonald’s sign with the changeable “Millions sold” sign, an A&W sign, and one for White Castle. Americana at its finest.
We moved on to the Liberty and Justice for All area. Here they had a visual exhibit on Thomas Paine’s pamphlet “Common Sense” and how it changed thinking in pre-Revolution America. There was the chair Abraham Lincoln was sitting in, at Ford’s Theater, when he was shot. It looked to have his blood still on it. There was a “Whites Only” setup that brought to life segregation in America. Near that was a Ku Klux Klan display, complete with the white hooded uniform. It was a bit disturbing. Finally, the bus Rosa Parks sat in when she refused to move to the back of the bus.
The display did not show much, and I got more information from the website. This bus had been sitting on someone’s property being used as a storage shed. The pictures show it gutted, with no wheels. They had a docent to answer questions. I had to ask how they knew they got the right bus. I mean it was decades after the event. The lady lit up with this question and said I am glad you asked. She said that in their research they found a City Bus line manager who had kept a scrapbook. In this scrapbook, on something about the event he had made the note Blake 2857. Blake was the name of the bus driver, and 2857 was the bus number. Additional research showed that Blake was driving the Cleveland Ave bus that day, which was the line Rosa Parks would have ridden. The bus number was stamped into a piece of the bus near the driver. The bus looked brand new.
We continued on, but we were both running out of steam. Even Margo on her scooter was getting tired. There was a huge display of telephones running the gambit from Alexander Grahan Bell’s first commercial phone (it looked like a small wooden box) to a 1980s brick wireless phone.
We saw a replica of the Wright Brothers Flyer. We had seen the original at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington DC, but it was hanging from the ceiling. This looked much bigger and flimsy. It was built in 2004, to commemorate the 100th anniversary of that first powered flight.
Margo had to see the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile in honor of Cooper, our dachshund. It’s one used in 1950. It’s built on a Dodge chassis and has a Chevy 350 V-8. Good choice.
The last museum exhibit was saw was of Hallmark Christmas ornaments. This was something Margo wanted to see. There were hundreds of these things. In truth, not one of them held any interest to me. But, the genre must hold great appeal to warrant the space that was taking up.
We ended our visit at the Museum store. I got a T-shirt, even though their selection was terrible. Margo got a magnet and a puzzle. We then returned the scooter and left for the hotel.
Dinner was at Mugly’s again. I had a Ruben sandwich, which was OK. Margo had the cheesy.
breadsticks, which was more like a cheese pizza with no sauce. It was incredibly oily and I thought inedible. Margo had two pieces and gave up.
We spent the rest of the night lounging in the room and writing. It was a nice way to wind down the evening, instead of rushing all day and night. Maybe we will make this our norm from now on.
Eisenhower's Bubbletop Limo
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JFK's Limo--They added a top after he was killed. The limo was used for another 14 years
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Teddy Roosevelt's horse-drawn coach. He prefered horses over automobiles. 1902 Bougham. Likely made in England
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1941 Allegheny Locomotive
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Margo the Engineer. Behind the controls of the Allegheny
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1923 Canadian Snowplow. This is an unpowered unit. It is attached to the front of locomotive, and is pushed.
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Day Four--Tuesday, September 10, 2024
I was up at 7:30 AM and slept much better than last night. I was only up once during the night, maybe twice. Margo had rougher night. Her back is bothering her. She has an electric pulse muscle massager that she attaches to the small of her back. She says it helps. I will massage it for her if gets bad. Because of her kidney disease, she has been told to take only Tylenol. I don’t know if she took any last night before going to bed.
We had breakfast at Mugly’s again. They change up the selections each day. But, that doesn’t mean the food is great. They have scrambled eggs each day, and change up the meat and carbohydrate. We had ham with the first breakfast, and sausage the last two days. I think today’s was a turkey sausage. Hash browns on day one, tater tots yesterday (they were out when we ate), and rubbery pancakes today. Margo did teach me how much better sausage is if you dip it in maple syrup.
We left at 9:15 and traveled the same route to today’s destination, Greenfield Village. It is right behind the Henry Ford. They are tearing up Oakwood Blvd, so there was some congestion. It was worse yesterday. Today we arrived just before 9:30 AM.
Once again, we were to tour a large museum (80 acres), so once again I got Margo a scooter. Greenfield Village is an outdoor museum filled with around 100 historic buildings. Most of them are the actual buildings. Some have been recreated. When I say historic, I’m talking about Thomas Edison’s compound from Menlo Park, which included his laboratory and machine shop. They have the Wright Brother’s bicycle shop and home, from Dayton Ohio. They have a building where Abraham Lincoln practiced law in Illinois, and on and on.
Not knowing where to start I asked the lady we rented the scooter from, where should we start. She did not hesitate. Ride the train. It will give you an overview of the village, let you know where things are, and let you decide what you want to do first.
The train is a Detroit and Lima 4-4-0 steam locomotive. The 4-4-0 has to do with the wheel configuration. In this case, it has four leading wheels, four powered wheels, and zero trailing wheels. My cousin Dan Carroll could explain this much better. It was built in 1897 and was Henry Ford’s personal locomotive when he traveled by rail.
The engine pulled a tender (fuel and water. I think it was coal-powered based on the soot we got on us), and several open-air passenger cars. The lady was right, it was a great way to get the lay of the land, and it was also relaxing.
Margo’s grandfather was employed by the Union Pacific railroad, and she lived with them for a while in a converted boxcar, used as employee housing. She has a deep love of trains, and when she heard the steam whistle, yesterday, she immediately knew what it was and wondered where it was coming from. She was pleasantly surprised to find we would be riding it.
After our two-mile circuit of the village, Margo asked what was first. It was early and I figured the Model Ts would be popular, so we walked in that direction. The Village has several Model Ts of various years and configurations, all used to take visitors for a tour around the town. Margo and I have ridden in many conveyances in our travels, from a hot air balloon to a submarine. We have never ridden in a Model T.
‘
Knowing we would be spending two full days visiting the museums, I had purchased a membership, which also included free rides in the Model T’s and other ways of getting around. So we stepped up to the loading area, built so we could step right in, rather than right up, and were on our way.
We were riding in a 1914 Model T touring car, with the top down. We had a great guide who told us not only about the village, as we rode around it, but also about the Model T, itself. He said that he was very happy to be driving the 1914 today, as it was a historic year for the Model T. 1914 was the first year that Henry Ford’s Highland Park Factory began using the moving assembly line. This moving assembly line reduced the time it took to make Model T from 12 hrs to 1 ½ hrs. Producing 10 cars in the time it took you to do one, allowed Ford to drastically cut the price of the Model T, making it the most affordable car in the world.
Our guide had something to say about just about every building we passed, whetting our appetite for more. He told us to make sure that we rode the 1931 Ford Bus, which also toured the town. He said the guy driving that bus was very knowledgeable and that it was a nice day for it. We would come to know what he meant by that, later. The ride was over in what felt like a heartbeat, and we were back to the start.
Not far away was the Wright Brothers bicycle shop. That was on my must-see list so Margo rolled and I walked over. As soon as you walked in you saw old bicycle parts and a display counter. We were to find out that bicycles at the turn of the 20th century were a luxury item. They would cost the equivalent of $800 in today’s money, so the Wright Brothers were well off. When their attention turned to powered flight, they were able to finance their quest, themselves. They had no sponsors.
We also found out that the items in the display case came from Orville Wright. They had been sitting in storage since they closed their shop in 1908. They had turned their attention to building airplanes. Bicycle sales had begun to decline just before the turn of the century and the Wright Brothers were likely looking for a new business.
The thing that most impressed me was their shop in the back. In it, there is a wind tunnel that they developed to test their wing designs. They tested over 200 different wing designs. The wind tunnel is made of wood, with a metal front that holds the wind machinery. It is powered by a hand crank. The wind tunnel has a large viewing window that shows an apparatus to hold the wing shape. When the crank is turned, and the wind is pushed over the wing, if it provides lift the wind will rise. Our docent demonstrated this for us, although I don’t think he was supposed to. I had asked several questions about the engine and plane manufacturing, and he appeared to be thrilled to get questions that were not so every day. I guess he figured he would repay us with a little extra.
Nearby was Sir John Bennett’s jewelry store, a building imported from London. Only Greenfield Village, we would learn, already had two jewelry stores and did not need a third. It became a sweet shop. But the most distinctive thing about this building are the two “jacks” who strike the clock bell every 15 minutes. Bennett, in addition to being a jeweler, was also a clockmaker, and these two six-foot figures, brightly painted, really stand out. They are called Gog and Magog, and are ancient protectors of Great Britain. You could hear them strike the bell all over the village.
We decided we needed a snack and stopped next for frozen custard. This was easily the worst chocolate custard or soft-serve I have ever tasted. It tasted like the mix had gone bad. Most of both of ours ended up in the trash.
Down the road was JR Jones’s General Store. It was manned by a tiny, elderly woman, wearing a medical mask. We saw many things. Some we recognized and some we did not. Have you ever heard of a wheat finger? She explained that it was a stick used to poke a hole in the earth. A seed would then be dropped in.
She explained how a general store worked back then. She told us that first, the canned goods that we saw were mostly for the hotels. This was a rural area and most people grew their own food. They might pick up stables, like coffee and salt, but they canned their own fruits and veggies.
She went on the explain that the lady of the house would drop off her list to be filled, while she went off to do the rest of her errands around town. Maybe Instacart isn’t such an original idea. Things that she or he might pick up included a handle for a scythe, or maybe a folding pocketknife, which would have a hoof cleaner, in addition to the knife blade.
She showed us several iron implements that Margo picked out instantly as curling irons and hair straighteners. One of us asked how it was heated. You put that sucker on the wood-burning stove. Margo chimed in about how you tell if the iron was the right temp. She had learned this in beauty school. You would use tissue paper. Something about it turning brown vs black. Too hot, and someone was getting an unwelcome haircut.
We were getting hungry. Greenfield Village also suffers from a lack of choices. I think there were three restaurants, and the only one that gave us hope of finding something we would be happy with was called Taste of History. Their premise was that they were using healthy, farm-grown food, and preparing it with receipts from yore. Maybe they did not use salt in yore, I found the stuff kind of bland. Of course, it could be me. You are supposed to taste buds as you age.
I had a breaded chicken breast, biscuit with blackberry jam (thumbs up on the jam), succotash, and pepper slaw. The latter is their take on cole slaw. I thought it was vinegary, than peppery. Margo had a plain baked potato, which she added butter and sour cream after the fact. Preparing it that way was not on the menu. My guess is because Wendy’s had not invented it yet. The potato was Burbank Russett, which they made a big deal about. Annoyingly, we did not tour the working farm to find out about the Burbank Russett. Not being facetious, here. I’m sure it’s an interesting story, and touring a farm working like they did 100 years ago, would also be interesting.
After lunch we decided to head to their Carousel, not to ride, but to wait for the 1931 Ford bus, we had been advised to ride. But, to our surprise, the horse-drawn Omnibus was pulling into one of its two stops, just in front of us. We hustled to make it. I hustled. Margo went to find a good place to park her scooter, and then she hustled.
We boarded from the back and joined a young couple from Florida. He had grown up here, so Greenfield Village was no stranger. She was here for the first time, the same as us. So we swapped travel stories as the two-horse team pulled the enclosed wagon along. The horse's names were George and Leroy. Our driver had to pay a lot of attention to George. He must have been her problem child. She said that she was also responsible for the care of her team, so she would be feeding and grooming them when her shift was done.
We made a complete circuit, which probably took 20 minutes, and said our goodbyes Once back on the street, we continued down the road to the carousel. It was not far, and we figured we would be riding in 10 minutes or so. When we got to the bus stop we found an elderly gentleman with a cane. He seemed a bit odd, but was nice. He told us what I suspected that there would be a bus shortly.
There was, but he was coming down the cross street, not the street that would take him to the bus stop. Our bus stop mate, very confidently, flagged him down, and beckoned us to follow. Why, not? I was expecting the bus driver to tell all three of us he would be back in a few minutes at the real bus stop, but he didn’t. This guy must be some sort of regular/daily customer, former or current employee, and was let on like it occurred frequently. Our friend called the driver by name and he would be sitting in the seat behind the bus driver if that was OK, and that he only needed a lift to a location I did not note.
Seating on this bus was tight. It had bench seats, in theory, designed for two on each side, about six deep. The bus was mostly full, so Margo and I grabbed the first bench that was free. It was very tight. We could not sit shoulder to shoulder, and we barely both fit in the seat.
True to our Model T driver’s assessment, this guide was very good. He seemed to know the history of every house we passed. When he was talking about the early days of the auto industry, I asked him if I had read, correctly, that gasoline was a waste product of oil refining, until the internal combustion engine came along. He confirmed that, saying there were only a few limited uses for the gasoline and most was burned off.
He drove us past some small white, primitive buildings that we were told were slave quarters. I think he said they were from Savannah, but I could be wrong. He said that Henry Ford poured a lot of money into that area to try to improve conditions. Another place I wanted to see, but did not. I wanted to learn more about how slaves lived and their treatment.
We made a little better than a complete circuit, since we got on at a place other than a regular stop. Our friend had gotten off much earlier, as did a group of five ladies who were all together. That freed up seating and Margo and I sat across from each other for the duration.
It was a short distance to Edison’s Menlo Park compound. It had his Menlo Park laboratory, his machine shop, his Fort Meyer Laboratory, a boarding house used for his male employees, and his glass shop. Margo was running out of enthusiasm and content to let me check things out. I limited myself to his Menlo Park lab and the machine shop.
Machine shops of those eras fascinate me. We are used to electric motor-driven machines, but the electric motor had not been invented yet. That would be a contribution by Nikola Tesla, who worked for Edison early in his American career. These machines were powered by a steam engine, which drove a belt system that ran overhead. Belts would be dropped down from the shafts that ran and turned above, and those belts drove the machines.
I walked into the Menlo Park laboratory, both this building and the machine shop are replicas, and went upstairs where a docent was giving a presentation. I only caught the tail end where he was talking about the organ that was way in the back of the lab. It was originally donated to help with Edison’s phonograph experiments and business. But, it ended up being used to lift the energy levels of the employees. Edison was a taskmaster and his people worked around the clock and long hours. In the wee hours of the morning when people were ready to call it quits, someone, maybe Edison, would play the organ, and get people dancing and singing. Once that went on for a bit, he would stop and people would get back to work.
This laboratory, or at least the original it was based on was where Edison developed his light bulb and the phonograph. I got to see a demonstration of his phonograph, and to be honest I could not make out “Mary had a little lamb”, but I did come in after it started.
The docent told us the story about Menlo Park ending up in Dearborn. Locals in New Jersey, at least some of them, said Edison came in and just took everything. The story here was that Edison was done with his Menlo Park compound, as he was moving operations to West Orange, NJ, where he was going to electrify NYC. He told the locals to take what they wanted. He and Henry Ford were friends and when Henry Ford began construction of Greenfield Village, Menlo Park was a natural edition. The lab and machine shop had been gutted by the locals, per Edison’s invitation, but the glass house and boarding house were still there. Now they are in Dearborn.
We were definitely running out of energy. It was around 3 PM. The only thing left on my must-see list was the Liberty Craftworks area artisans. It was a bit of a walk from Edison’s area, but we arrived and found a place that was displaying glassware that had been made on-site. They were beautiful, but as we were to find out in the gift shop, very expensive.
We decided to just turn back, hit the gift shop, and go back to the hotel. But, as we were walking it looked like there were glassblowers at work. We had seen a sign telling us that their master glass blower had moved on, and the three guys they had working seemed to be less experienced than what Margo and I have seen in the past. But, to be fair, I doubt there are tons of glassblowers left in the country. They had a guy explaining what each guy was doing, and answering questions. We watched for a bit, but it was hot in there, and the process was a bit slow.
The gift shop turned out to be a disappointment. There were no Greenfield Village-specific magnets, no t-shirts that I liked, and no polo shirts at all. I don’t remember if we bought anything. They were really pushing the sustainability angle, which is fine, but that is not the thing I want to wear on my chest, so we moved on.
We went back to the hotel and laid down for only about 30 minutes. We ate dinner at On the Border, where we shared a flight of margaritas with flavored tequila. I liked the mango and strawberry. We ordered the “live guacamole”, which is where they make guacamole at your table. It was three dollars more than just ordering it. So we thought it money well spent.
We ate outside the hotel because we were sick of Mugly’s. Their receipts seemed OK, but the cooks could not seem to execute them. The waitstaff was great. After dinner, we went to Meijers, again. We needed some more supplies, including sunscreen for the ballgame on Thursday.
We were in bed between 10:30 and 11 PM. I have a feeling it is going to take a few days to get back on Mountain Time.
We had breakfast at Mugly’s again. They change up the selections each day. But, that doesn’t mean the food is great. They have scrambled eggs each day, and change up the meat and carbohydrate. We had ham with the first breakfast, and sausage the last two days. I think today’s was a turkey sausage. Hash browns on day one, tater tots yesterday (they were out when we ate), and rubbery pancakes today. Margo did teach me how much better sausage is if you dip it in maple syrup.
We left at 9:15 and traveled the same route to today’s destination, Greenfield Village. It is right behind the Henry Ford. They are tearing up Oakwood Blvd, so there was some congestion. It was worse yesterday. Today we arrived just before 9:30 AM.
Once again, we were to tour a large museum (80 acres), so once again I got Margo a scooter. Greenfield Village is an outdoor museum filled with around 100 historic buildings. Most of them are the actual buildings. Some have been recreated. When I say historic, I’m talking about Thomas Edison’s compound from Menlo Park, which included his laboratory and machine shop. They have the Wright Brother’s bicycle shop and home, from Dayton Ohio. They have a building where Abraham Lincoln practiced law in Illinois, and on and on.
Not knowing where to start I asked the lady we rented the scooter from, where should we start. She did not hesitate. Ride the train. It will give you an overview of the village, let you know where things are, and let you decide what you want to do first.
The train is a Detroit and Lima 4-4-0 steam locomotive. The 4-4-0 has to do with the wheel configuration. In this case, it has four leading wheels, four powered wheels, and zero trailing wheels. My cousin Dan Carroll could explain this much better. It was built in 1897 and was Henry Ford’s personal locomotive when he traveled by rail.
The engine pulled a tender (fuel and water. I think it was coal-powered based on the soot we got on us), and several open-air passenger cars. The lady was right, it was a great way to get the lay of the land, and it was also relaxing.
Margo’s grandfather was employed by the Union Pacific railroad, and she lived with them for a while in a converted boxcar, used as employee housing. She has a deep love of trains, and when she heard the steam whistle, yesterday, she immediately knew what it was and wondered where it was coming from. She was pleasantly surprised to find we would be riding it.
After our two-mile circuit of the village, Margo asked what was first. It was early and I figured the Model Ts would be popular, so we walked in that direction. The Village has several Model Ts of various years and configurations, all used to take visitors for a tour around the town. Margo and I have ridden in many conveyances in our travels, from a hot air balloon to a submarine. We have never ridden in a Model T.
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Knowing we would be spending two full days visiting the museums, I had purchased a membership, which also included free rides in the Model T’s and other ways of getting around. So we stepped up to the loading area, built so we could step right in, rather than right up, and were on our way.
We were riding in a 1914 Model T touring car, with the top down. We had a great guide who told us not only about the village, as we rode around it, but also about the Model T, itself. He said that he was very happy to be driving the 1914 today, as it was a historic year for the Model T. 1914 was the first year that Henry Ford’s Highland Park Factory began using the moving assembly line. This moving assembly line reduced the time it took to make Model T from 12 hrs to 1 ½ hrs. Producing 10 cars in the time it took you to do one, allowed Ford to drastically cut the price of the Model T, making it the most affordable car in the world.
Our guide had something to say about just about every building we passed, whetting our appetite for more. He told us to make sure that we rode the 1931 Ford Bus, which also toured the town. He said the guy driving that bus was very knowledgeable and that it was a nice day for it. We would come to know what he meant by that, later. The ride was over in what felt like a heartbeat, and we were back to the start.
Not far away was the Wright Brothers bicycle shop. That was on my must-see list so Margo rolled and I walked over. As soon as you walked in you saw old bicycle parts and a display counter. We were to find out that bicycles at the turn of the 20th century were a luxury item. They would cost the equivalent of $800 in today’s money, so the Wright Brothers were well off. When their attention turned to powered flight, they were able to finance their quest, themselves. They had no sponsors.
We also found out that the items in the display case came from Orville Wright. They had been sitting in storage since they closed their shop in 1908. They had turned their attention to building airplanes. Bicycle sales had begun to decline just before the turn of the century and the Wright Brothers were likely looking for a new business.
The thing that most impressed me was their shop in the back. In it, there is a wind tunnel that they developed to test their wing designs. They tested over 200 different wing designs. The wind tunnel is made of wood, with a metal front that holds the wind machinery. It is powered by a hand crank. The wind tunnel has a large viewing window that shows an apparatus to hold the wing shape. When the crank is turned, and the wind is pushed over the wing, if it provides lift the wind will rise. Our docent demonstrated this for us, although I don’t think he was supposed to. I had asked several questions about the engine and plane manufacturing, and he appeared to be thrilled to get questions that were not so every day. I guess he figured he would repay us with a little extra.
Nearby was Sir John Bennett’s jewelry store, a building imported from London. Only Greenfield Village, we would learn, already had two jewelry stores and did not need a third. It became a sweet shop. But the most distinctive thing about this building are the two “jacks” who strike the clock bell every 15 minutes. Bennett, in addition to being a jeweler, was also a clockmaker, and these two six-foot figures, brightly painted, really stand out. They are called Gog and Magog, and are ancient protectors of Great Britain. You could hear them strike the bell all over the village.
We decided we needed a snack and stopped next for frozen custard. This was easily the worst chocolate custard or soft-serve I have ever tasted. It tasted like the mix had gone bad. Most of both of ours ended up in the trash.
Down the road was JR Jones’s General Store. It was manned by a tiny, elderly woman, wearing a medical mask. We saw many things. Some we recognized and some we did not. Have you ever heard of a wheat finger? She explained that it was a stick used to poke a hole in the earth. A seed would then be dropped in.
She explained how a general store worked back then. She told us that first, the canned goods that we saw were mostly for the hotels. This was a rural area and most people grew their own food. They might pick up stables, like coffee and salt, but they canned their own fruits and veggies.
She went on the explain that the lady of the house would drop off her list to be filled, while she went off to do the rest of her errands around town. Maybe Instacart isn’t such an original idea. Things that she or he might pick up included a handle for a scythe, or maybe a folding pocketknife, which would have a hoof cleaner, in addition to the knife blade.
She showed us several iron implements that Margo picked out instantly as curling irons and hair straighteners. One of us asked how it was heated. You put that sucker on the wood-burning stove. Margo chimed in about how you tell if the iron was the right temp. She had learned this in beauty school. You would use tissue paper. Something about it turning brown vs black. Too hot, and someone was getting an unwelcome haircut.
We were getting hungry. Greenfield Village also suffers from a lack of choices. I think there were three restaurants, and the only one that gave us hope of finding something we would be happy with was called Taste of History. Their premise was that they were using healthy, farm-grown food, and preparing it with receipts from yore. Maybe they did not use salt in yore, I found the stuff kind of bland. Of course, it could be me. You are supposed to taste buds as you age.
I had a breaded chicken breast, biscuit with blackberry jam (thumbs up on the jam), succotash, and pepper slaw. The latter is their take on cole slaw. I thought it was vinegary, than peppery. Margo had a plain baked potato, which she added butter and sour cream after the fact. Preparing it that way was not on the menu. My guess is because Wendy’s had not invented it yet. The potato was Burbank Russett, which they made a big deal about. Annoyingly, we did not tour the working farm to find out about the Burbank Russett. Not being facetious, here. I’m sure it’s an interesting story, and touring a farm working like they did 100 years ago, would also be interesting.
After lunch we decided to head to their Carousel, not to ride, but to wait for the 1931 Ford bus, we had been advised to ride. But, to our surprise, the horse-drawn Omnibus was pulling into one of its two stops, just in front of us. We hustled to make it. I hustled. Margo went to find a good place to park her scooter, and then she hustled.
We boarded from the back and joined a young couple from Florida. He had grown up here, so Greenfield Village was no stranger. She was here for the first time, the same as us. So we swapped travel stories as the two-horse team pulled the enclosed wagon along. The horse's names were George and Leroy. Our driver had to pay a lot of attention to George. He must have been her problem child. She said that she was also responsible for the care of her team, so she would be feeding and grooming them when her shift was done.
We made a complete circuit, which probably took 20 minutes, and said our goodbyes Once back on the street, we continued down the road to the carousel. It was not far, and we figured we would be riding in 10 minutes or so. When we got to the bus stop we found an elderly gentleman with a cane. He seemed a bit odd, but was nice. He told us what I suspected that there would be a bus shortly.
There was, but he was coming down the cross street, not the street that would take him to the bus stop. Our bus stop mate, very confidently, flagged him down, and beckoned us to follow. Why, not? I was expecting the bus driver to tell all three of us he would be back in a few minutes at the real bus stop, but he didn’t. This guy must be some sort of regular/daily customer, former or current employee, and was let on like it occurred frequently. Our friend called the driver by name and he would be sitting in the seat behind the bus driver if that was OK, and that he only needed a lift to a location I did not note.
Seating on this bus was tight. It had bench seats, in theory, designed for two on each side, about six deep. The bus was mostly full, so Margo and I grabbed the first bench that was free. It was very tight. We could not sit shoulder to shoulder, and we barely both fit in the seat.
True to our Model T driver’s assessment, this guide was very good. He seemed to know the history of every house we passed. When he was talking about the early days of the auto industry, I asked him if I had read, correctly, that gasoline was a waste product of oil refining, until the internal combustion engine came along. He confirmed that, saying there were only a few limited uses for the gasoline and most was burned off.
He drove us past some small white, primitive buildings that we were told were slave quarters. I think he said they were from Savannah, but I could be wrong. He said that Henry Ford poured a lot of money into that area to try to improve conditions. Another place I wanted to see, but did not. I wanted to learn more about how slaves lived and their treatment.
We made a little better than a complete circuit, since we got on at a place other than a regular stop. Our friend had gotten off much earlier, as did a group of five ladies who were all together. That freed up seating and Margo and I sat across from each other for the duration.
It was a short distance to Edison’s Menlo Park compound. It had his Menlo Park laboratory, his machine shop, his Fort Meyer Laboratory, a boarding house used for his male employees, and his glass shop. Margo was running out of enthusiasm and content to let me check things out. I limited myself to his Menlo Park lab and the machine shop.
Machine shops of those eras fascinate me. We are used to electric motor-driven machines, but the electric motor had not been invented yet. That would be a contribution by Nikola Tesla, who worked for Edison early in his American career. These machines were powered by a steam engine, which drove a belt system that ran overhead. Belts would be dropped down from the shafts that ran and turned above, and those belts drove the machines.
I walked into the Menlo Park laboratory, both this building and the machine shop are replicas, and went upstairs where a docent was giving a presentation. I only caught the tail end where he was talking about the organ that was way in the back of the lab. It was originally donated to help with Edison’s phonograph experiments and business. But, it ended up being used to lift the energy levels of the employees. Edison was a taskmaster and his people worked around the clock and long hours. In the wee hours of the morning when people were ready to call it quits, someone, maybe Edison, would play the organ, and get people dancing and singing. Once that went on for a bit, he would stop and people would get back to work.
This laboratory, or at least the original it was based on was where Edison developed his light bulb and the phonograph. I got to see a demonstration of his phonograph, and to be honest I could not make out “Mary had a little lamb”, but I did come in after it started.
The docent told us the story about Menlo Park ending up in Dearborn. Locals in New Jersey, at least some of them, said Edison came in and just took everything. The story here was that Edison was done with his Menlo Park compound, as he was moving operations to West Orange, NJ, where he was going to electrify NYC. He told the locals to take what they wanted. He and Henry Ford were friends and when Henry Ford began construction of Greenfield Village, Menlo Park was a natural edition. The lab and machine shop had been gutted by the locals, per Edison’s invitation, but the glass house and boarding house were still there. Now they are in Dearborn.
We were definitely running out of energy. It was around 3 PM. The only thing left on my must-see list was the Liberty Craftworks area artisans. It was a bit of a walk from Edison’s area, but we arrived and found a place that was displaying glassware that had been made on-site. They were beautiful, but as we were to find out in the gift shop, very expensive.
We decided to just turn back, hit the gift shop, and go back to the hotel. But, as we were walking it looked like there were glassblowers at work. We had seen a sign telling us that their master glass blower had moved on, and the three guys they had working seemed to be less experienced than what Margo and I have seen in the past. But, to be fair, I doubt there are tons of glassblowers left in the country. They had a guy explaining what each guy was doing, and answering questions. We watched for a bit, but it was hot in there, and the process was a bit slow.
The gift shop turned out to be a disappointment. There were no Greenfield Village-specific magnets, no t-shirts that I liked, and no polo shirts at all. I don’t remember if we bought anything. They were really pushing the sustainability angle, which is fine, but that is not the thing I want to wear on my chest, so we moved on.
We went back to the hotel and laid down for only about 30 minutes. We ate dinner at On the Border, where we shared a flight of margaritas with flavored tequila. I liked the mango and strawberry. We ordered the “live guacamole”, which is where they make guacamole at your table. It was three dollars more than just ordering it. So we thought it money well spent.
We ate outside the hotel because we were sick of Mugly’s. Their receipts seemed OK, but the cooks could not seem to execute them. The waitstaff was great. After dinner, we went to Meijers, again. We needed some more supplies, including sunscreen for the ballgame on Thursday.
We were in bed between 10:30 and 11 PM. I have a feeling it is going to take a few days to get back on Mountain Time.
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Day Five--Wednesday, September 11, 2024
I was up at 7:30 when my alarm went off. Margo slept in until 8 AM. She did not have the best of nights. She was having trouble finding a comfortable spot. She has become accustomed to sleeping in her chair. We are going to have to find a solution before our next vacation, which is a cruise.
On today’s itinerary was a tour of the Rouge River Factory and a visit to the Motown Museum. We began our day as normal, with breakfast at the hotel. The breakfast is not great, but it is good enough, and free.
We were on the road by 9:15 to take our tour of the factory. I was certain I had read on their website that the buses could accommodate small scooters, but the lady renting them shot that down. So no scooter. Plan B was to get a wheelchair and I would push Margo around. She was not crazy about the idea, but she was less crazy about limping around in pain, so wheelchair it is.
On Monday, while we were at the Henry Ford Museum, we met these four guys who were also there, and somehow we talked about our future plans. They were planning on Greenfield Village on Tuesday and taking the factory tour on Wednesday. We saw them yesterday, and knew that they also had tickets for the 10 AM tour. They were waiting on the bench waiting for the bus when we walked outside. They are just four buddies from school who get together once a year in different cities. I believe they said next year would be Chicago. Very cool.
We let the bus attendant know we would need a wheelchair, and after the 20-minute bus ride from the Henry Ford Museum, it was waiting for us, when we arrived. There are five parts to the Ford Rouge River Factory tour. The first is a mini-documentary on this factor. The second was a high-tech show explaining the design and build of the F-150. Part three is an actual tour of the factory. Four is a display of historic cars produced here, and finally, five is their living roof. We have to show how committed to sustainability Ford is. I think the term is green-washing. I hope it adds real value. But, I digress.
I enjoyed the documentary. This factory was designed to fulfill Henry Ford’s concept of controlling all means of building his cars. He wanted raw materials, iron, coke, rubber, silica sand, etc. to come in, and automobiles to come out. He had coke ovens, smelters, his own power plant, a casting plan, and on and on. At its peak in the 1930s, 100,000 people were employed there. It was an overwhelming success, and was copied by many other companies for their own products.
We moved on to the high-tech show, with lasers, projectors, and a white model of an F-150. The presentation started with one of those robotic voices explaining the steps in design, and at the model stage, a nearly full-size model of the Ford F-150 was raised through the floor. It is white, without details like doors or the hood. It looks like the basic thing was carved out of soap.
The production went on to add sound effects and project the components onto the model, so it looked lifelike. It felt more like a sales pitch than a museum exhibit. But, it was well done and entertaining to sit through.
The next part was the actual factory tour. We were to walk about the factory floor, along the perimeter of the building. I guess it would be called a catwalk, but it was a concrete floor about 6 to 8 feet wide, with rails to lean on and watch below. It was self-paced, so you could take as much or as little time as you liked to see what they were doing.
Some places were pretty hard to see much of what was going on. Some places you could see nothing. And some places you could see what the guys were doing. I was told that there are over 200 stations. Each station is where two or three people would have one, maybe two tasks to do. The stations were set up in pairs, one across from each other, with the truck coming down the middle, on its own platform/station.
Each of the workers' stations had all the tools and constantly replenished the supply of what they needed to put on the trucks. A truck would move to their area, and they would attach whatever, and get ready for the next one. For some stations it was a simple task, that was quick. Others were more complicated.
It was impressive that they had the ratchets for tightening nuts or bolts air-powered and on hooks. Each time a guy would use it, he would hang it right back up, so it was ready to be used again. It was all very, very repetitious, and boring. I also liked that the trucks were on platforms that automatically changed heights depending on what was being put on. This minimized the bending that had to be done.
We saw just one robot, all though I am sure there were more. This one was installing the rear window on the trucks. It would reach over, and grab the top one from a stack, position it, and hold it as if it were letting an adhesive set. Then it would release and repeat.
I think I was most fascinated by the installation of the headliner, the overhead piece in a vehicle. It took a team of three. The first guy would grab the liner in a very specific way, pull it off the stack, flip it over, and insert it through the windshield area. His two station mates would grab it, move it back, position it, and they would all then snap it into place. It was choreographed just like a dance.
We were told that when someone left the company there was often plenty of co-workers looking to change jobs. Some are more coveted than others and some just wanted a change. After the trucks are fully assembled, they are each tested to make sure everything works. Every single one. I thought that was impressive, too.
We completed our walk, and we were supposed to go to the place where we could view the living roof. But, we both had to pee. So we went downstair where the historic cars and restrooms were located. Business taken care of, we looked at the cars. Each of the five cars they had on display were produced at the Rouge River Factory, and began with the 1931 Model A.
This Model A was to represent all Model As built at Rouge River. The Rouge River factory was the first one to build the car from start to finish.
The next car in line was the 1932 Ford V-8 Victoria. The Ford V-8 was a powerful engine at the time and was widely anticipated. It was very successful. So much so, that both Clyde Barrow (Bonnie and Clyde) and John Dillinger preferred them when robbing banks. These cars were usually faster than the police chasing them, and they could outrun them.
The 1949 Coupe, next in line, was the first redesigned car, after the end of the World War II. The 1956 Thunderbird was designed to go after the high-end market, and was quite a success. But, that paled in comparison to the success the final car, the Mustang (1965 version displayed) would have.
It had been cool to see the assembly line process that I had heard about since I was young. I admire its efficiency, but it also really drove home the monotony that it inflicts on the workers. I can also see that it was a real boon for low-skilled workers in the Detroit area. It looks like it takes just minutes to learn what you need to do, and then with a little practice, it becomes rote. Not trying to cast aspersions on anyone, but this job would give anyone a way to make it into the middle class, maybe higher, depending on the person.
We took the tour bus back to the Henry Ford and decided to have lunch at Ford’s Garage. You would think that this was some offshoot of the car company. It’s not. It is officially licensed by Ford, but it is a chain restaurant, with 30 locations (mostly in Florida, where the first one started), in eight states. The Dearborn location has a set of old gas pumps, flanked by two fully restored Model As. There is another Model A suspended over the bar. We both ordered Monte Cristos (way big!), but I understand they brand the hamburger buns with the Ford Garage logo.
Now we were off to the Motown Museum. We encountered traffic along the way. Michigan Dept of Transportation thought it a good idea to close two of the three lanes down, in the middle of the afternoon, for some sort of maintenance. Our tour was for 3 PM, and we left Ford’s Garage around 2 PM, so we had time. But, it was still stressful wondering how long it was going to last.
We arrived, and found the parking situation was terrible. If they have a dedicated lot, I did not see it. Parking was on the street or a side street. This was not the best part of town. It was not the worst, but this was definitely the first time I wondered if our car would be there when I came back. They are building a huge addition, that will include a parking lot.
Our tour was led by 20-year-old Thomas who has a very big voice. He began telling us that we were standing in one of seven houses, on Grand Ave, that made up Motown Records. The first building was Berry Gordy’s own house. Downstairs had been converted into the famous Studio A, and the Gordy family lived upstairs.
We were in the second building, the first additional building, which became the administrative offices. As Motown grew Gordy just kept buying house on the same block until he had seven. Upstairs in the second building is a small museum, which contains Michael Jackson’s black fedora and bedazzled glove. He donated those, plus a check for $125,000 (1988) to help get the Motown Museum started.
Berry Gordy had relocated Motown Records first to downtown Detroit and then to Los Angeles, where it is today. The original site was left to be used as storage. Esther Gordy Edwards, Berry’s sister, had no interest in moving to California, so she was left in charge of the Detroit office. She noticed that fans and even tour buses would stop by, and saw the need to preserve the history, and get a revenue stream going. Without her, there might not be a Motown Museum in Detroit.
We crossed over to Hitsville, USA as Berry Gordy’s home is known. We crossed from the 2nd floor to the 2nd floor, so we began with Berry Gordy’s apartment. We had stepped back in time about 50 or 60 years, with those few steps. The furniture and decorations were definitely from when I was in elementary school. We were told to note the 45 records on the kitchen table. This was known as the shipping department, because artists were expected to package and mail their 45s to radio stations to be played.
Thomas explained that Berry Gordy had several jobs before Motown, including a short stint as a boxer. He was proud that he appeared on the same fight card as his idol, Joe Louis. They did not fight each other. Louis was the heavyweight champion of the world, while Gordy fought in the 126 lb. class. But, Gordy did win his fight that night.
Berry Gordy founded Motown after receiving a royalty check for three dollars and some odd cents, as his cut for co-writing Jackie Wilson’s hit “Lonely Teardrops”. When his friend, musician, and future Motown executive, Smokey Robinson saw it, he advised Gordy that if that was all he was going to get, he might as well work himself.
Gordy also spent time on Henry Ford’s assembly line, a job he hated for all the monotony. But, he did gain a great deal of respect for the plant's efficient way of turning out cars, and he moved Motown to a kind of assembly line system. Instead of adding parts to a car, his assembly line added polish to his artists.
He had people teach them their dance routines and how to interact with the media and the public, and there was a vocal coach. Gordy would cycle them from one instructor to the other, in an assembly line-like process. This helped to develop the Motown sound. Part of the Motown sound was a three-by-three hole cut in the roof of the building, which with the help of a microphone and speaker created an echo chamber, used by the recording artists.
That last part of the tour was downstairs in Studio A. Thomas showed us various things including a large 1877 Steinway piano. Paul McCartney took a private tour of Studio A and asked to play this historic piano. But it had fallen not only out of tune, but pieces were broken, worn out, or missing. It was unplayable. He paid and partnered with Steinway to have it completely restored.
The final part of our tour was to make our singing debut at Studio A. Thomas had all of us stand together. We were going to do the Temptations Do-wop shuffle while singing “My Girl”. I had no idea how to do the shuffle, but Thomas told us it was easy. It was shoveling snow. Two scoops to the right and two scoops to the left. It was silly and fun, and everyone got into it. We left with smiles. We exited into the gift shop and $190 later, we were heading out the door.
I had forgotten my anxiety about leaving the car, but it returned pretty quickly. We had to walk close to a block and cross Grand Ave, and I kept looking for the car. When we were about to cross the street a homeless guy approached from a distance, and it was obvious he was going to hit us up for money. I don’t give money to the homeless. Sorry. At best, it’s a short-term fix for their issues, and at worst, it discourages them from looking for real help. We quickened our pace, trying to ignore his calls. We got in the car, (thankfully, there and unmolested), started it, and left. This was the first homeless person we had seen since we arrived. Brighton has more homeless than we have seen so far.
We were back to the hotel by 5 PM. We had dinner at Chilis and made another stop at Meijers for more supplies, and a new Styrofoam cooler. The old one had begun to leak. It has been another good day.
On today’s itinerary was a tour of the Rouge River Factory and a visit to the Motown Museum. We began our day as normal, with breakfast at the hotel. The breakfast is not great, but it is good enough, and free.
We were on the road by 9:15 to take our tour of the factory. I was certain I had read on their website that the buses could accommodate small scooters, but the lady renting them shot that down. So no scooter. Plan B was to get a wheelchair and I would push Margo around. She was not crazy about the idea, but she was less crazy about limping around in pain, so wheelchair it is.
On Monday, while we were at the Henry Ford Museum, we met these four guys who were also there, and somehow we talked about our future plans. They were planning on Greenfield Village on Tuesday and taking the factory tour on Wednesday. We saw them yesterday, and knew that they also had tickets for the 10 AM tour. They were waiting on the bench waiting for the bus when we walked outside. They are just four buddies from school who get together once a year in different cities. I believe they said next year would be Chicago. Very cool.
We let the bus attendant know we would need a wheelchair, and after the 20-minute bus ride from the Henry Ford Museum, it was waiting for us, when we arrived. There are five parts to the Ford Rouge River Factory tour. The first is a mini-documentary on this factor. The second was a high-tech show explaining the design and build of the F-150. Part three is an actual tour of the factory. Four is a display of historic cars produced here, and finally, five is their living roof. We have to show how committed to sustainability Ford is. I think the term is green-washing. I hope it adds real value. But, I digress.
I enjoyed the documentary. This factory was designed to fulfill Henry Ford’s concept of controlling all means of building his cars. He wanted raw materials, iron, coke, rubber, silica sand, etc. to come in, and automobiles to come out. He had coke ovens, smelters, his own power plant, a casting plan, and on and on. At its peak in the 1930s, 100,000 people were employed there. It was an overwhelming success, and was copied by many other companies for their own products.
We moved on to the high-tech show, with lasers, projectors, and a white model of an F-150. The presentation started with one of those robotic voices explaining the steps in design, and at the model stage, a nearly full-size model of the Ford F-150 was raised through the floor. It is white, without details like doors or the hood. It looks like the basic thing was carved out of soap.
The production went on to add sound effects and project the components onto the model, so it looked lifelike. It felt more like a sales pitch than a museum exhibit. But, it was well done and entertaining to sit through.
The next part was the actual factory tour. We were to walk about the factory floor, along the perimeter of the building. I guess it would be called a catwalk, but it was a concrete floor about 6 to 8 feet wide, with rails to lean on and watch below. It was self-paced, so you could take as much or as little time as you liked to see what they were doing.
Some places were pretty hard to see much of what was going on. Some places you could see nothing. And some places you could see what the guys were doing. I was told that there are over 200 stations. Each station is where two or three people would have one, maybe two tasks to do. The stations were set up in pairs, one across from each other, with the truck coming down the middle, on its own platform/station.
Each of the workers' stations had all the tools and constantly replenished the supply of what they needed to put on the trucks. A truck would move to their area, and they would attach whatever, and get ready for the next one. For some stations it was a simple task, that was quick. Others were more complicated.
It was impressive that they had the ratchets for tightening nuts or bolts air-powered and on hooks. Each time a guy would use it, he would hang it right back up, so it was ready to be used again. It was all very, very repetitious, and boring. I also liked that the trucks were on platforms that automatically changed heights depending on what was being put on. This minimized the bending that had to be done.
We saw just one robot, all though I am sure there were more. This one was installing the rear window on the trucks. It would reach over, and grab the top one from a stack, position it, and hold it as if it were letting an adhesive set. Then it would release and repeat.
I think I was most fascinated by the installation of the headliner, the overhead piece in a vehicle. It took a team of three. The first guy would grab the liner in a very specific way, pull it off the stack, flip it over, and insert it through the windshield area. His two station mates would grab it, move it back, position it, and they would all then snap it into place. It was choreographed just like a dance.
We were told that when someone left the company there was often plenty of co-workers looking to change jobs. Some are more coveted than others and some just wanted a change. After the trucks are fully assembled, they are each tested to make sure everything works. Every single one. I thought that was impressive, too.
We completed our walk, and we were supposed to go to the place where we could view the living roof. But, we both had to pee. So we went downstair where the historic cars and restrooms were located. Business taken care of, we looked at the cars. Each of the five cars they had on display were produced at the Rouge River Factory, and began with the 1931 Model A.
This Model A was to represent all Model As built at Rouge River. The Rouge River factory was the first one to build the car from start to finish.
The next car in line was the 1932 Ford V-8 Victoria. The Ford V-8 was a powerful engine at the time and was widely anticipated. It was very successful. So much so, that both Clyde Barrow (Bonnie and Clyde) and John Dillinger preferred them when robbing banks. These cars were usually faster than the police chasing them, and they could outrun them.
The 1949 Coupe, next in line, was the first redesigned car, after the end of the World War II. The 1956 Thunderbird was designed to go after the high-end market, and was quite a success. But, that paled in comparison to the success the final car, the Mustang (1965 version displayed) would have.
It had been cool to see the assembly line process that I had heard about since I was young. I admire its efficiency, but it also really drove home the monotony that it inflicts on the workers. I can also see that it was a real boon for low-skilled workers in the Detroit area. It looks like it takes just minutes to learn what you need to do, and then with a little practice, it becomes rote. Not trying to cast aspersions on anyone, but this job would give anyone a way to make it into the middle class, maybe higher, depending on the person.
We took the tour bus back to the Henry Ford and decided to have lunch at Ford’s Garage. You would think that this was some offshoot of the car company. It’s not. It is officially licensed by Ford, but it is a chain restaurant, with 30 locations (mostly in Florida, where the first one started), in eight states. The Dearborn location has a set of old gas pumps, flanked by two fully restored Model As. There is another Model A suspended over the bar. We both ordered Monte Cristos (way big!), but I understand they brand the hamburger buns with the Ford Garage logo.
Now we were off to the Motown Museum. We encountered traffic along the way. Michigan Dept of Transportation thought it a good idea to close two of the three lanes down, in the middle of the afternoon, for some sort of maintenance. Our tour was for 3 PM, and we left Ford’s Garage around 2 PM, so we had time. But, it was still stressful wondering how long it was going to last.
We arrived, and found the parking situation was terrible. If they have a dedicated lot, I did not see it. Parking was on the street or a side street. This was not the best part of town. It was not the worst, but this was definitely the first time I wondered if our car would be there when I came back. They are building a huge addition, that will include a parking lot.
Our tour was led by 20-year-old Thomas who has a very big voice. He began telling us that we were standing in one of seven houses, on Grand Ave, that made up Motown Records. The first building was Berry Gordy’s own house. Downstairs had been converted into the famous Studio A, and the Gordy family lived upstairs.
We were in the second building, the first additional building, which became the administrative offices. As Motown grew Gordy just kept buying house on the same block until he had seven. Upstairs in the second building is a small museum, which contains Michael Jackson’s black fedora and bedazzled glove. He donated those, plus a check for $125,000 (1988) to help get the Motown Museum started.
Berry Gordy had relocated Motown Records first to downtown Detroit and then to Los Angeles, where it is today. The original site was left to be used as storage. Esther Gordy Edwards, Berry’s sister, had no interest in moving to California, so she was left in charge of the Detroit office. She noticed that fans and even tour buses would stop by, and saw the need to preserve the history, and get a revenue stream going. Without her, there might not be a Motown Museum in Detroit.
We crossed over to Hitsville, USA as Berry Gordy’s home is known. We crossed from the 2nd floor to the 2nd floor, so we began with Berry Gordy’s apartment. We had stepped back in time about 50 or 60 years, with those few steps. The furniture and decorations were definitely from when I was in elementary school. We were told to note the 45 records on the kitchen table. This was known as the shipping department, because artists were expected to package and mail their 45s to radio stations to be played.
Thomas explained that Berry Gordy had several jobs before Motown, including a short stint as a boxer. He was proud that he appeared on the same fight card as his idol, Joe Louis. They did not fight each other. Louis was the heavyweight champion of the world, while Gordy fought in the 126 lb. class. But, Gordy did win his fight that night.
Berry Gordy founded Motown after receiving a royalty check for three dollars and some odd cents, as his cut for co-writing Jackie Wilson’s hit “Lonely Teardrops”. When his friend, musician, and future Motown executive, Smokey Robinson saw it, he advised Gordy that if that was all he was going to get, he might as well work himself.
Gordy also spent time on Henry Ford’s assembly line, a job he hated for all the monotony. But, he did gain a great deal of respect for the plant's efficient way of turning out cars, and he moved Motown to a kind of assembly line system. Instead of adding parts to a car, his assembly line added polish to his artists.
He had people teach them their dance routines and how to interact with the media and the public, and there was a vocal coach. Gordy would cycle them from one instructor to the other, in an assembly line-like process. This helped to develop the Motown sound. Part of the Motown sound was a three-by-three hole cut in the roof of the building, which with the help of a microphone and speaker created an echo chamber, used by the recording artists.
That last part of the tour was downstairs in Studio A. Thomas showed us various things including a large 1877 Steinway piano. Paul McCartney took a private tour of Studio A and asked to play this historic piano. But it had fallen not only out of tune, but pieces were broken, worn out, or missing. It was unplayable. He paid and partnered with Steinway to have it completely restored.
The final part of our tour was to make our singing debut at Studio A. Thomas had all of us stand together. We were going to do the Temptations Do-wop shuffle while singing “My Girl”. I had no idea how to do the shuffle, but Thomas told us it was easy. It was shoveling snow. Two scoops to the right and two scoops to the left. It was silly and fun, and everyone got into it. We left with smiles. We exited into the gift shop and $190 later, we were heading out the door.
I had forgotten my anxiety about leaving the car, but it returned pretty quickly. We had to walk close to a block and cross Grand Ave, and I kept looking for the car. When we were about to cross the street a homeless guy approached from a distance, and it was obvious he was going to hit us up for money. I don’t give money to the homeless. Sorry. At best, it’s a short-term fix for their issues, and at worst, it discourages them from looking for real help. We quickened our pace, trying to ignore his calls. We got in the car, (thankfully, there and unmolested), started it, and left. This was the first homeless person we had seen since we arrived. Brighton has more homeless than we have seen so far.
We were back to the hotel by 5 PM. We had dinner at Chilis and made another stop at Meijers for more supplies, and a new Styrofoam cooler. The old one had begun to leak. It has been another good day.
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This is limo Reagan was getting into when John Hinkley shot him in 1981
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FDR's Sunshine Special -1939 Lincoln. The first car built especially to used by the President
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Day Six--Thursday, September 12, 2024
I was up at 7:30, even though today we could sleep in a bit. I guess we were getting used to the schedule. Plus neither of us really gets restful sleep anymore. We were ready for our normal breakfast routine at 8:20, and headed to Mugly’s.
We settled in and Margo realized she had forgotten her morning pills. I got up and went back to the room to retrieve them. On the way back the hotel manager, in a raised voice was telling a lady “..to stop yelling or she would be in trouble too. Police were on their way.” I never heard the lady yell. They were in an adjacent hall, so walked by them and headed to the restaurant. As I’m getting to the door, a man storms past me. Behind me, I hear the lady ask if he got everything. I thought they were making their getaway, after doing something disreputable.
I got back to the table and Margo filled me in. The lady I saw was getting hot water and a guy behind her thought she was taking too long and told her to hurry up. She said she was trying not to spill or something like that. I got the impression that her interaction back to him was as rude as he was to her. Well, the guy hauls off and slaps in the face. These two are strangers. She started yelling, and cursing him. Her husband, the guy I saw, came running to see what was going on. The guy who had already committed assault and battery, compounded his trouble by throwing his hot water in the husband’s face. Bystanders broke it up. I never saw Mr. Assault. Police arrived while we were eating.
We finished eating, having a new topic to discuss this morning, and then back to the room. We were on the road by 9:45 AM, which was way early for our 11 AM pedicab tour of Detroit. But, I had wanted to make sure we could find everything and parked.
The same highway maintenance that happened yesterday, was going on today. Two of three lanes were shut down, and we killed some of that extra time. I hate sitting in traffic, even if I have time to kill. It is stressful, and has the added advantage of increasing the odds of an accident.
I had programmed in two potential parking lots near our destination on Bagley Street. The first place I tried, I could not get the arm to go up. You had to prepay, which I tried to do. I gave up probably a bit too soon. We drove to the backup location. The entry system looked identical, and I got this one to work on the second try. The first one was probably an operator error. Regardless, we were parked in a gated lot. I thought we had a decent chance of having our car in the same condition and spot when we returned this afternoon.
We walked the block or so to the Bagley address, and discovered there was nothing there, except scaffolding. This was not unexpected, and I had scouted the place out on Google, and saw no storefront. We waited for a few minutes, mulling things over, and then I called Marshall, the co-owner and guy who would be taking us around Detroit. He picked up, and was surprised we were so early. He was also planning to pick us up at our parking lot, as I told him where I was thinking of parking, but I missed his email that gave those directions. But, as his Bagley address was close to where he stored his bike, he was just around the corner and was there in five minutes. No harm. No fowl.
A Pedibike is a three-wheeler with the driver over the front wheel and two passengers riding over the back wheels. Margo and I see them every time we go to downtown Denver, and with Margo’s ankle, I thought this would be the ideal way to tour the downtown area. I had also planned to ride the Detroit People Mover, which is their subway, but the whole system was down for maintenance.
I had not been expecting to make stops, but within the first 10 minutes, we parked in front of the Fisher Building. Guys from my generation remember looking at the lower door jamb of their GM car, and seeing the words “Body by Fisher”—same people. The building was completed in 1928, and was supposed to be the smaller of two towers. But, the Great Depression started in 1929, so they figured this was enough. It’s a nice-looking building.
Marshall proceeded to tell us Dan Gilbert, a local boy, who made good. He founded Rocket Mortgage, and owns the Cleveland Cavaliers. He decided to invest in Detroit, partly because he wanted to help invigorate his hometown, and partly because with all the depressed property values, he figured he could make some serious money. He would buy buildings renovate them, and then as the Detroit downtown became safer, he could make his money back, when tenants flocked back. So far it seems to be working.
He is the owner or part owner of the following: Madison Theatre Building,] Chase Tower, Two Detroit Center, Dime Building, the First National Building the David Stott Building, the former Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago Detroit Branch Building, One Woodward Avenue, 1001 Woodward office tower and the Book Tower in Detroit. He pointed out several of these buildings, and it seems like Gilbert owns most of the Detroit skyline.
Our next stop was the St. Aloysius Church. This Catholic church was built in 1930. The church is 72 feet by 100 feet, yet seats 2,000 people. This is accomplished by having three levels, but is only two stories, tall. There is both a balcony and a “well”. This is basically a basement-type level that looks up at the priest and altar. When I say basement, please don’t envision some converted storage area. This whole church is beautiful. The design was inspired by the Cathedral in Milan, Italy.
There was no mass going on, so we were able to go inside and see. We did not spend a lot of time and snapped just a few pictures. I found a website that had much better pics, so here is a link to that site.
https://historicdetroit.org/galleries/st-aloysius-catholic-church-photos
Back on the bike and we were pedaled over to a French bakery called Cannelle by Matt Knio. These pastries were genuine works of art. They looked like they were carved out of wax or made of plastic. They did not look like something that you would eat. We got just a couple of macarons, and Margo got a special. We were back on our way.
We made a brief stop in front of a statue called “Waiting” by an artist named KAWS. He is supposed to be famous and his pieces command a hefty price. It looks to me like a giant, featureless Mickey Mouse with Xed eyes. It was commissioned by Dan Gilbert. Him again.
We pedaled past the Soldiers and Sailors monument, installed in 1872. It is the oldest public art piece in Detroit. It was dedicated to Michigan’s Civil War dead. Marshall told us about a big fight over exactly where to put the 60-foot monument.
The Guardian Building was our next stop, and we got to go inside this one, too. This Art Deco building was completed in 1929, right before the Great Depression hit. It is a red-brown building, 40-something stories, and renowned for its use of color. He inside made use of some unique pink and yellow marble that came from Africa.
Marshall had one more place to show us, but I had wanted to see the Spirit of Detroit, their most iconic work of public art. This sculpture depicts an 8 ft man sitting on the ground with his arms outstretched. He is holding an object in each. Whenever a Detroit sports team makes it to the championship you can expect him to also be dressing in the hometown jersey. It was also undergoing maintenance, so the photos I got were not great.
I also wanted to see The Fist, a 24-foot-long arm, modeled after Joe Louis’s appendage. Louis was another local boy. The arm is suspended by chains in a triangular framework. We only pedaled by and did not stop. We did stop the cab long enough to take a quick picture of the Renaissance Center, the former headquarters for General Motors, and easily the most famous office building in Detroit.
Our final stop on this tour was at a restaurant called The Apparatus Room. This restaurant was formerly the old Detroit Fire Department headquarters, complete with large red doors. It was built in 1929 and recently converted to its new use. Marshall took us inside a pointed out a feature he found the most interesting. The building is two stories high, there is a special area where in days gone by, the wet hoses would be hung, unfurled, to dry. This space, which you almost have to know is there, now houses a glass, artistic sculpture.
As planned, Marshall (Symons) dropped us off at Comerica Park, as our afternoon plans were to see the Tigers host the Colorado Rockies. We settled up. I had expected the cost to be $125 per person. Marshall said it was $125 per couple, and I had already put down a $50 deposit. So, instead of owing him $200, plus tip. I only owed $75. But, he had done a great job, and the tour was closer to 1 ½ hours, I paid him $150, plus a $20 cash tip. It had been worth it.
Marshall dropped us off right in front of the Comerica entrance to the park. This entrance is guarded by an enormous white tiger, and two, even taller, baseball bats. It just screams photo op. Or if I was 40 years younger, Instragram. We had one person tell us Margo’s clear bag was too big, after she had checked the specs online, but they passed us on down the line to the metal detector, and they did not give it a second look.
Once inside we found their food court and got a couple of hot dogs and large drinks. I wanted a souvenir ball, so we found the gift shop. I was a bit disappointed, that their stadium ball was white, like a normal baseball. It did have a Comerica Park logo, and said Comerica Park on the other side, but, overall, tame.
Our sears were on the third base side about 20 rows up from the field. I had hoped for a day with cloud cover in the 70s. We got mostly sun, and 10 degrees warmer. I knew Margo was never going to last. She didn’t and we got up to wander the park at the end of the 3rd inning. The Rockies, who were on their way to their second 100-loss season, were up 1 to nothing, when we got up. By the time we made it to centerfield, as a slow wander, they were down 2 to 1. I did not know how much baseball Margo was going to take.
We admired the Tigers’ statues in centerfield and watched some of the game from the shade there. I think we the 5th inning ended we continued our loop. Comerica compares favorably to Coors Field. I like the amenities and the ability to walk completely around. Coors Field has the Rooftop for those just wanting to party, which Margo and I have seen, but not really participated in. I don’t like that their field faces southeast, making day games shade-free for most of the game. I am appreciating shade much more as I age. I find that I am as tough as a Kleenex anymore.
We got back to our section and were able to stand at the rail. I am unsure if this is permitted, or if we just had an accommodating usher. We also met a guy from Highlands Ranch. I had fist-bumped the occasional Rockies jersey as we had walked, but had not stopped to visit. We chatted about baseball and travel, while keeping one eye on the game. By the time the ninth inning started and our friend was moving on, the Rockies were up to bat in the ninth, and put up a two-spot. They had tied the game in the seventh, so now they were ahead. I was expecting a classic Rockies bullpen meltdown, but the Tigers came up with a walk, an infield single, two strikeouts, and a foul-out. Rockies win!
I called Marshall on my cell to have him or one of his cabs come get us. He was close and we were on our way in 5 minutes. Another five minutes and we were at our lot. We had a great day. This was our last attraction and there was very little fun left in our trip.
We had dinner at Mugly’s figuring they could not screw up spaghetti. We split an order and then each had a dessert. I don’t recall what either of us had, so it obviously did not wow us. Then it was back to the room and Margo packed. I helped where I could, but mostly just stayed out of her way, unless asked. Then we went to bed.
We settled in and Margo realized she had forgotten her morning pills. I got up and went back to the room to retrieve them. On the way back the hotel manager, in a raised voice was telling a lady “..to stop yelling or she would be in trouble too. Police were on their way.” I never heard the lady yell. They were in an adjacent hall, so walked by them and headed to the restaurant. As I’m getting to the door, a man storms past me. Behind me, I hear the lady ask if he got everything. I thought they were making their getaway, after doing something disreputable.
I got back to the table and Margo filled me in. The lady I saw was getting hot water and a guy behind her thought she was taking too long and told her to hurry up. She said she was trying not to spill or something like that. I got the impression that her interaction back to him was as rude as he was to her. Well, the guy hauls off and slaps in the face. These two are strangers. She started yelling, and cursing him. Her husband, the guy I saw, came running to see what was going on. The guy who had already committed assault and battery, compounded his trouble by throwing his hot water in the husband’s face. Bystanders broke it up. I never saw Mr. Assault. Police arrived while we were eating.
We finished eating, having a new topic to discuss this morning, and then back to the room. We were on the road by 9:45 AM, which was way early for our 11 AM pedicab tour of Detroit. But, I had wanted to make sure we could find everything and parked.
The same highway maintenance that happened yesterday, was going on today. Two of three lanes were shut down, and we killed some of that extra time. I hate sitting in traffic, even if I have time to kill. It is stressful, and has the added advantage of increasing the odds of an accident.
I had programmed in two potential parking lots near our destination on Bagley Street. The first place I tried, I could not get the arm to go up. You had to prepay, which I tried to do. I gave up probably a bit too soon. We drove to the backup location. The entry system looked identical, and I got this one to work on the second try. The first one was probably an operator error. Regardless, we were parked in a gated lot. I thought we had a decent chance of having our car in the same condition and spot when we returned this afternoon.
We walked the block or so to the Bagley address, and discovered there was nothing there, except scaffolding. This was not unexpected, and I had scouted the place out on Google, and saw no storefront. We waited for a few minutes, mulling things over, and then I called Marshall, the co-owner and guy who would be taking us around Detroit. He picked up, and was surprised we were so early. He was also planning to pick us up at our parking lot, as I told him where I was thinking of parking, but I missed his email that gave those directions. But, as his Bagley address was close to where he stored his bike, he was just around the corner and was there in five minutes. No harm. No fowl.
A Pedibike is a three-wheeler with the driver over the front wheel and two passengers riding over the back wheels. Margo and I see them every time we go to downtown Denver, and with Margo’s ankle, I thought this would be the ideal way to tour the downtown area. I had also planned to ride the Detroit People Mover, which is their subway, but the whole system was down for maintenance.
I had not been expecting to make stops, but within the first 10 minutes, we parked in front of the Fisher Building. Guys from my generation remember looking at the lower door jamb of their GM car, and seeing the words “Body by Fisher”—same people. The building was completed in 1928, and was supposed to be the smaller of two towers. But, the Great Depression started in 1929, so they figured this was enough. It’s a nice-looking building.
Marshall proceeded to tell us Dan Gilbert, a local boy, who made good. He founded Rocket Mortgage, and owns the Cleveland Cavaliers. He decided to invest in Detroit, partly because he wanted to help invigorate his hometown, and partly because with all the depressed property values, he figured he could make some serious money. He would buy buildings renovate them, and then as the Detroit downtown became safer, he could make his money back, when tenants flocked back. So far it seems to be working.
He is the owner or part owner of the following: Madison Theatre Building,] Chase Tower, Two Detroit Center, Dime Building, the First National Building the David Stott Building, the former Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago Detroit Branch Building, One Woodward Avenue, 1001 Woodward office tower and the Book Tower in Detroit. He pointed out several of these buildings, and it seems like Gilbert owns most of the Detroit skyline.
Our next stop was the St. Aloysius Church. This Catholic church was built in 1930. The church is 72 feet by 100 feet, yet seats 2,000 people. This is accomplished by having three levels, but is only two stories, tall. There is both a balcony and a “well”. This is basically a basement-type level that looks up at the priest and altar. When I say basement, please don’t envision some converted storage area. This whole church is beautiful. The design was inspired by the Cathedral in Milan, Italy.
There was no mass going on, so we were able to go inside and see. We did not spend a lot of time and snapped just a few pictures. I found a website that had much better pics, so here is a link to that site.
https://historicdetroit.org/galleries/st-aloysius-catholic-church-photos
Back on the bike and we were pedaled over to a French bakery called Cannelle by Matt Knio. These pastries were genuine works of art. They looked like they were carved out of wax or made of plastic. They did not look like something that you would eat. We got just a couple of macarons, and Margo got a special. We were back on our way.
We made a brief stop in front of a statue called “Waiting” by an artist named KAWS. He is supposed to be famous and his pieces command a hefty price. It looks to me like a giant, featureless Mickey Mouse with Xed eyes. It was commissioned by Dan Gilbert. Him again.
We pedaled past the Soldiers and Sailors monument, installed in 1872. It is the oldest public art piece in Detroit. It was dedicated to Michigan’s Civil War dead. Marshall told us about a big fight over exactly where to put the 60-foot monument.
The Guardian Building was our next stop, and we got to go inside this one, too. This Art Deco building was completed in 1929, right before the Great Depression hit. It is a red-brown building, 40-something stories, and renowned for its use of color. He inside made use of some unique pink and yellow marble that came from Africa.
Marshall had one more place to show us, but I had wanted to see the Spirit of Detroit, their most iconic work of public art. This sculpture depicts an 8 ft man sitting on the ground with his arms outstretched. He is holding an object in each. Whenever a Detroit sports team makes it to the championship you can expect him to also be dressing in the hometown jersey. It was also undergoing maintenance, so the photos I got were not great.
I also wanted to see The Fist, a 24-foot-long arm, modeled after Joe Louis’s appendage. Louis was another local boy. The arm is suspended by chains in a triangular framework. We only pedaled by and did not stop. We did stop the cab long enough to take a quick picture of the Renaissance Center, the former headquarters for General Motors, and easily the most famous office building in Detroit.
Our final stop on this tour was at a restaurant called The Apparatus Room. This restaurant was formerly the old Detroit Fire Department headquarters, complete with large red doors. It was built in 1929 and recently converted to its new use. Marshall took us inside a pointed out a feature he found the most interesting. The building is two stories high, there is a special area where in days gone by, the wet hoses would be hung, unfurled, to dry. This space, which you almost have to know is there, now houses a glass, artistic sculpture.
As planned, Marshall (Symons) dropped us off at Comerica Park, as our afternoon plans were to see the Tigers host the Colorado Rockies. We settled up. I had expected the cost to be $125 per person. Marshall said it was $125 per couple, and I had already put down a $50 deposit. So, instead of owing him $200, plus tip. I only owed $75. But, he had done a great job, and the tour was closer to 1 ½ hours, I paid him $150, plus a $20 cash tip. It had been worth it.
Marshall dropped us off right in front of the Comerica entrance to the park. This entrance is guarded by an enormous white tiger, and two, even taller, baseball bats. It just screams photo op. Or if I was 40 years younger, Instragram. We had one person tell us Margo’s clear bag was too big, after she had checked the specs online, but they passed us on down the line to the metal detector, and they did not give it a second look.
Once inside we found their food court and got a couple of hot dogs and large drinks. I wanted a souvenir ball, so we found the gift shop. I was a bit disappointed, that their stadium ball was white, like a normal baseball. It did have a Comerica Park logo, and said Comerica Park on the other side, but, overall, tame.
Our sears were on the third base side about 20 rows up from the field. I had hoped for a day with cloud cover in the 70s. We got mostly sun, and 10 degrees warmer. I knew Margo was never going to last. She didn’t and we got up to wander the park at the end of the 3rd inning. The Rockies, who were on their way to their second 100-loss season, were up 1 to nothing, when we got up. By the time we made it to centerfield, as a slow wander, they were down 2 to 1. I did not know how much baseball Margo was going to take.
We admired the Tigers’ statues in centerfield and watched some of the game from the shade there. I think we the 5th inning ended we continued our loop. Comerica compares favorably to Coors Field. I like the amenities and the ability to walk completely around. Coors Field has the Rooftop for those just wanting to party, which Margo and I have seen, but not really participated in. I don’t like that their field faces southeast, making day games shade-free for most of the game. I am appreciating shade much more as I age. I find that I am as tough as a Kleenex anymore.
We got back to our section and were able to stand at the rail. I am unsure if this is permitted, or if we just had an accommodating usher. We also met a guy from Highlands Ranch. I had fist-bumped the occasional Rockies jersey as we had walked, but had not stopped to visit. We chatted about baseball and travel, while keeping one eye on the game. By the time the ninth inning started and our friend was moving on, the Rockies were up to bat in the ninth, and put up a two-spot. They had tied the game in the seventh, so now they were ahead. I was expecting a classic Rockies bullpen meltdown, but the Tigers came up with a walk, an infield single, two strikeouts, and a foul-out. Rockies win!
I called Marshall on my cell to have him or one of his cabs come get us. He was close and we were on our way in 5 minutes. Another five minutes and we were at our lot. We had a great day. This was our last attraction and there was very little fun left in our trip.
We had dinner at Mugly’s figuring they could not screw up spaghetti. We split an order and then each had a dessert. I don’t recall what either of us had, so it obviously did not wow us. Then it was back to the room and Margo packed. I helped where I could, but mostly just stayed out of her way, unless asked. Then we went to bed.
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Day Seven--Friday, September 13, 2024
Today is the saddest day of the vacation. Every vacation, for that matter, the trip home. With the trip to our destination, there is the promise of all the things that are planned, the experiences you will have, and even the unexpected things that leave memories. Today, the payoff is sleeping in our own bed, and seeing Cooper. Neither are trivial.
As usual Margo, despite my worrying, got everything packed. After a breakfast of biscuits and gravy at Mugly’s; we loaded up our rented Nissan Rouge and bid Allen Park, good-bye.
Margo remembered we needed gas. That was our only hiccup on the way to the airport. Then it was routine travel back home. We had a layover at Midway in Chicago, and I realized that I had forgotten my GPS in the rental car. That fact that I forgot hurt worse than losing it. I have a spare in my car, but still.
We were home early enough to eat dinner at 5 PM. We called in an order to Santiago’s. Jessi was off at 6 PM, so we picked Copper up not long after. He was happy to see us and happy to go home.
Our next trip is scheduled for January 2025. We are taking a Caribbean cruise on MSC, and newish (to North America) cruise company. We have heard good and bad about them. But, we decided that the price was right and we will give them a shot. It will be nice to steal a week back from winter’s grasp. Of course, two out of the last three times we did this, we came home to a snowstorm. I guess you really don’t want to fool Mother Nature.
As usual Margo, despite my worrying, got everything packed. After a breakfast of biscuits and gravy at Mugly’s; we loaded up our rented Nissan Rouge and bid Allen Park, good-bye.
Margo remembered we needed gas. That was our only hiccup on the way to the airport. Then it was routine travel back home. We had a layover at Midway in Chicago, and I realized that I had forgotten my GPS in the rental car. That fact that I forgot hurt worse than losing it. I have a spare in my car, but still.
We were home early enough to eat dinner at 5 PM. We called in an order to Santiago’s. Jessi was off at 6 PM, so we picked Copper up not long after. He was happy to see us and happy to go home.
Our next trip is scheduled for January 2025. We are taking a Caribbean cruise on MSC, and newish (to North America) cruise company. We have heard good and bad about them. But, we decided that the price was right and we will give them a shot. It will be nice to steal a week back from winter’s grasp. Of course, two out of the last three times we did this, we came home to a snowstorm. I guess you really don’t want to fool Mother Nature.