Baby Bummer

By DA Joe III

The boomer generation of which the fell right in the middle of.

A fictional account of real life story of an average yet not so average Joe, born and raised in the 50s, grew up in the 60s, blossomed in the 70s, maintained through the 80s. Each decade filled with hopes and aspirations, goals and achievements and setbacks that come with making an attempt to attain the American dream.

But then came the 90s and a life once of takes a truly traumatic turn leaving Joe struggling to find direction in an unknown environment due to his turn to experiencethat most recent round of lay off.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 16, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465342812

DA Joe III

The author at this time chooses to remain anonymous hoping to gauge the response to this work dedicated to his close knit family, instrumental in the development of a baby boomer, currently semi-chillin within Metro Chicago.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

A certain elusive, evasive, evolving kind of calm makes its presence felt over the remaining employees as some busy and some not so busy go through the final activities that will lead to the ultimate shutdown of a once-thriving organism.

How so aptly it is that the organization word is derived from an organism, the essence of and provider of the most basic form of life. And it makes me somewhat wonder why the so-called leaders aren’t capable of nurturing and sustaining the basis, which gives soul and meaning to expansions, diversifications, and growth that must be properly handled to assure the basis is protected.

A combination of factors can attribute to the deterioration of an organization, but the main one always boils down to key management’s lack of knowledge of and communication to the workers of the organization. When revenues and profits rise, the management visualizes it as the rewards entirely tied to a decision or direction they put in place. They sometimes forget to continually monitor the effects of that direction as it filters its way down through the organization. Just so the numbers, in terms of sales and profit, increase and are resident on the bottom line, in turn lining their pockets with bonuses and recognition among their peers. And let’s not forget those almighty dividends for those sideline supporters, known as shareholders.

But lo and behold, when a dip occurs, expense control comes to the forefront. The largest always being that of payroll, the trusty crusty old ax gets pulled out, and the massacre begins, without any recollection that the main people upon which it falls are the same ones who enabled them to line their pockets with profits, drive big (or small) fancy cars, live in highly exclusive neighborhoods without once giving the relative share of rewards to the workers.

When left unawarded and unrecognized (an important ego booster to management), the worker production is adversely effected. He/she becomes disassociated and aloof with the concerns of the organization he survives within. And just like any cancerous growth, it does spread.

In a last-ditch effort to be heard, the letter starts.

Mr. Ed,

After nineteen years of service with Sears, I find myself in the peculiar circumstances that revolve around job hunting. Though careers are not today viewed in the same light as years past, I would be remiss if I did not voice my concerns to you on the direction of the company from a customer point of view and also with a feel of the internal powers that drive the business.

I myself came from and exist within the middle-class segment of our society, which is what Sears did at the time of my employment back in 1973. Sears had the knack of supplying the middle class what it needed to coexist with the other ornaments of society and feel good about doing so. A certain proudness encompassed all layers of the Sears organization, and the customer was, more times than not, satisfied. Though Store of the Future was a good concept, with its implementations came a tearing of the bond that holds people and—

Joe, Charles, Joe’s boss, said as he entered the office. Could you please work on those final reconciliation numbers for the month and have them to me by tomorrow? Joe looked up, displayed that professional facade he oftentimes did to get by and get along with what he considered inferior superiors. Sure, I can have those ready for you by tomorrow noon, if that’s okay by you.

Fine, responded Charles as he departed. But Joe took a moment to reflect. Though now an imminent statistic that he himself prophesized, preparation was put on a back burner, left simmering to be nourished at a later date. That date, he realized, had come now. And now, realism permeated the scene.

In office, pictures of the wife, the kid, the car, the house line the credenza. A middle manager, a black middle manager, Joe’s climb through the ranks of the premier retailer of its day enabled him to possess the niceties of life—the suburban home in just the right school district and a prestigious, recognizable personal luxury car. Quite a contrast from the humblest of beginnings—Mississippi. (As he thought back on and about it.)

The crickets or whatever made that insect noise disturbed the silence of night outside the cabin door as a new life makes its way into the world. Oh Jesus! You know what’s best! Please see me through! exclaimed the strong figure of a black woman named Addean. Hold on. You’ll be just fine, said the kindly mother (grandma to be) one more time over. The doctor’s just-in-time arrival documented the birth of a healthy colored boy. A gave birth that day to what would be her middle son. Joseph, her first son born to her second husband. She endured the childbirth without his presence; however, he had ventured north, preparing to establish his family in the prosperity, which resulted from working hard in an industrious labor market, where physical capabilities to get the job done assured a long-term stay.

The father went through this separation with future hopes and dreams of a better life for his new family. Yes, just that same old American dream thing. That indeed attainable through hard work available to committed workers white and black during the late ‘50s, ‘60s, and early ‘70s. Through this period, the family attained that American dream and provided the setting for Joe and his siblings to attain the necessities in life, though by no means of the extravagant nature. Joe excelled in school, became the first in the family to obtain a college degree, and set forth on a journey (not unlike his father’s) to provide a better environment for his family to live and thrive.

Hey, Joe, a coworker called out, interrupting his daydreaming solitude. Yeah, Steve, what’s up? responded Joe, back in the present.

Time to get out of here, isn’t it?

Not realizing the lateness in the day, Joe packed in some homework and joined Steve on their daily walk to catch the commuter train home.

*     *     *

The train, that reliable vehicle you could set your clock by (95 percent of the time), was right on time again. Oftentimes used by Joe to relax from the rigors of the day gone past and mentally prepare for the schedule of activities of the next, the thirty-minute ride was now taking on a new dimension. With the (closing layoff) date official, daily tasks were now secondary behind thoughts of an unclear future. One not planned or remotely envisioned and the cause of great concern. Great concern because finding another job would be unsettling, but Joe knew that change could also prove rewarding. And being with the company nearly twenty years, Joe was optimistic that good things would come out of this. Though now his thoughts turned to the years gone past as the rail noise set the tone.

CHAPTER 2

His first steps into what would become the future of his existence, both professional and personal, took place on a warm spring day in 1973. Being invited (his only invitation actually) to participate in a follow-up job interview process, Joe entered the Sears store with a confident stride. Though internally, the butterflies were putting on their best disturbance ever.

Joe could recall maybe a couple of visits to this particular store, maybe to buy a tool or something, but this suburban sprawl proved intimidating. He preferred to shop the inner city stores with their far-more-family, friendly feel.

Never one to embrace new challenges, Joe’s self-imposed calmness prevailed as he approached a young lady employee in the women’s clothing area.

Excuse me, but could you please direct me to the employment office? Joe asked.

Why, sure, she replied pleasantly. Just take the escalator up to the second floor, go through the furniture department, and you’ll run into the cashiers’ area. Take a right down the hall, and you’ll see the double doors marking your destination.

Thanks, Joe replied. And though Joe did not realize it as he made his way to the escalator, that particular young lady was just beginning in the Sears Executive Training program, which he aspired to be a part of.

Hi, Joe was speaking to the receptionist in the personnel office. I’m here for a second interview.

Do you have your reply letter with you? she questioned.

Yes, I do, he replied as he pulled the letter out of his suit coat pocket and handed it to her.

Okay, take this application and fill it out in its entirety and bring it back to me when you’re done. You can sit right over there. Pointing to an area already occupied by thirteen other applicants preparing to go through this hiring process. Joe completed the application, gave it back to the receptionist, and was instructed to have a seat as someone would see him/them shortly.

When nine o’clock rolled around, the now twenty-three applicants were herded into a conference room where they were introduced to the regional personnel executive, a Mr. Josh Young. Mr. Young had the dubious honor of explaining to them the structure the next six to seven hours would take. Speaking with great clarity and strength, he was able to ease the group with his friendly overtone, a characteristic personnel people must all have as Joe would eventually find out.

There were to be three elements involved in the process. One: an interview to last a half hour to forty-five minutes depending—. (That depending upon always conjured up feelings of one sort or another. If your interview only lasted twenty minutes, are you automatically out? Then if you were to go forty-five or so, are you a wrap to have the job? Who knows? Just thoughts.)

Element two: testing of who knows what and why for. (Wasn’t it satisfactory enough to have completed four years of college?)

Element three: a Quarum. A term Joe applied to what was described as a debate (or quarrel) involving a group of applicants (thus the forum). This element was purposely void of detail until the groups were actually decided upon and the process started. The applicants were then divided into three groups of six and one group of five, Joe being a part of the former. Two groups, including Joe’s, would go through the testing and interviews in the morning session then participate in the Quarum after lunch, vice versa for the other two groups.

Mr. Young called the names of the individuals in the first group, and they were instructed to follow a personnel facilitator to the Quarum room. He then did the same for group 2. Joe and the remaining candidates were then called individually to begin their interviews. Joe’s interviewer, a Paul Garrett, led him into a small office area. During the walk, they exchanged the normal pleasantries—the how are you’s, did you have any trouble getting here, the weather, any questions thus far.

So tell me a little about yourself. Garrett’s first official question. Joe, having gone through a number of interviews by employers who had visited his college campus, went through his usual spiel: Born in Mississippi, moved to Chicago as a child following his father because of job opportunities, went through the public school system with honors, proud to be the first in the family to complete with a degree in marketing and working to assist in the attainment of the family goal.

Whom would you say had the greatest influence on you? came the next question.

Not one person, stated Joe. But rather the combined presence of my parents. My father for his determination and drive to provide for his family, working throughout his life, and my mother for teaching me the values and morals so important in developing kids into responsible adults.

What are your reasons for choosing Sears as a career choice? asked Garrett.

Joe explained that Sears, being the number 1 retailer in the country, would no doubt enable him to attain and perform the skills necessary to be successful in the business world, emphasizing his desire to learn as much as possible and utilize those skills to start his own endeavor within the next five to seven years.

After a couple more typical interview questions and answers, Garrett explained how the training program worked. Hired employees would spend up to a year in designated stores set up as training centers. They would work in various departments, becoming familiar with all aspects of the Sears operation, then would be assigned to a particular department serving as a stepping stone to a career either in other retail stores (i.e., field) or possible assignment into a headquarters position. Garrett himself stating he was a part of a program nine years prior and now was a part of headquarters personnel.

Through his comments, Joe could tell Garrett enjoyed his job and conveyed how, after a while with the company, it becomes to be viewed more as your family than your job. Of course, talk along those lines was completely foreign to Joe, especially since he had already planned to venture out on his own as soon as possible.

The interview session lasted thirty-one minutes, and Joe felt it was an okay performance. Garrett led Joe to where the testing would take place, due to start in fifteen minutes, once the other candidates had completed their interviews. The testing process would take the group up to lunchtime. Joe never was fond of tests especially the ones similar to college entrance exams, as this one was, only in a shorter version. He remembered just scoring high enough on those exams. But due to his excellent grades and class ranking in the top 10 percent, he managed to get accepted at the University of Illinois.

Today’s test, however, proved not that difficult even though Joe used all the allotted time to complete it. It was then lunchtime. All candidates were informed of the local restaurant options and instructed to be back in forty-five minutes. Some formed groups to lunch together though Joe, a consummate loner by nature, had already decided to drive to a nearby McDonald’s for a tried and true cheeseburger with fries. While there, he wondered about the second half of this process and the impending Quarum.

Everyone gathered after lunch, and Joe’s group was led to what was normally the Sears Charm school room. They all listened attentively as the group facilitator explained the next phase of the program.

The six of us were presented with six interest topics—political/economical/social in nature of which a finite amount of endowment money was available to fund. Each candidate would have to argue (quarrel) for the issue they were supporting. However, the kicker was you could not choose your topic. At random, you would choose your issue by drawing a number out of a hat. So really, if someone had a strong feeling toward a particular issue, chances of debating on it was just that. Left to chance. The issues were the environment (clean air, water, etc.), medical research, corporate tax relief, arts funding, domestic violence, and child welfare. Joe’s topic when all was said and done was child welfare.

The candidates were given a half hour to think upon their selected topic and formulate a plan to push for a share of the money. Never one to be interested in mass programs decided upon by out-of-touch politicians using the public’s hard-earned tax dollars, this assignment was a twist, quite contrary to Joe’s normal mind-set of self-development and let the world take care of itself. How in the world did they come up with this crap? his initial thought as he sat alone, figuring out his plan of action. He recalled a recent newspaper article that touched upon the issue of homeless youth and a trend that may someday approach catastrophic proportions. A recent study conducted by a major university highlighted that within a seven-year span, the number of children in state custody had increased by 323 percent or something like that, he recalled. Kids taken from abusive, neglectful, and simple noncaring environments. With that basic premise, Joe formulated his plan.

Through a random selection process, Joe was assigned to give his presentation third. He listened intently as the first presenter, pushing the environment, began. I think, she began, the first no-no when the situation calls for a consensus vote confidence. So she continued pointing out the need for policies and programs addressing landfill use—how, if dumping continues at its current pace, by the year 2000, we’d be shipping garbage to barren foreign countries. Her solution incorporated a recycling effort for items such as bottles, cans, and for more stringent efforts in controlling industrial waste and pollution affecting air, land, and sea quality. She cleverly presented this as a potential self-policing, self-funded program capable of being funded by fines assessed those upon noncompliant companies. (If only the government could effectively set standards, Joe thought.) In conclusion, she felt an allocation of 10 percent of the funds could support the plan.

The proliferation of and growing momentum behind sexually transmitted diseases, partially but not limited to the not-too-recent sexual revolution, highlighted the second candidate’s push for funding in the area of medical research. Asking for only a 10 percent increase in funding over a year ago levels, he profiled how now is the time to recognize some of the potential life-threatening viruses procreating by exponential numbers, including AIDS, which, to this point, Joe had never heard of. He went on to paint a very scary analysis of how the sexual promiscuous period of the sixties may come back to haunt us. Very thought provoking stuff. Now it came to be Joe’s turn.

Well, he began. We’re faced here with a situation presenting US with numerous opportunities to impact the future of our society. As all of our platforms here are intertwined. Conduct in one will have a definite impact upon another. And that is how I want to position our basis of thinking. Which one of our, Joe being careful to always mention the our versus the I as much as possible, agendas will have the greatest impact, positively and/or negatively relative to our and, yes, my —pointing at himself—" future well-being. Let me make you aware of some numbers involving the state of child welfare.

Our prison population today stands at record levels. And we spend skillions annually to maintain those prisons. Now consider the number of children in juvenile detention centers nationwide at a cost so great. The number of children that entered our state’s welfare program has grown double-digits percent over the last five years and is projected to grow at a substantially higher rate over the next ten years and beyond. And of that number, a whopping percent will in up in our prison facilities once they are of age.

A pause to let them absorb the info.

Not a pretty picture when you think we will be obligated to spend an incremental 10 percent of funds each year to contain our fellow man, so that they won’t harm nor steal from us. So visualize if you will. Child welfare must, by law, support those in need. And though we must support the needy and confine criminals, apparently, an opportunity exists. As a matter of fact, many opportunities exist across all our programs as seen through this one. Therefore I’m looking for a consensus to pour 60 percent of the endowment into child welfare. Joe paused momentarily for the others to catch their breath.

And this is why, he went on. Let us remember how important teaching is relative to how we here today have been able to gain the knowledge necessary to try out for this job and accomplish probably numerous other goals past and present. Someone taught US. A number of folks may have influenced us. Being guided in our early years means so much.

With that said, Joe explained that by providing alternative environments for children abandoned early in life that focused on teaching life perspectives, the impact upon society as a whole would be tremendously positive. With proper funding, homes could be established, staffed by caring individuals responsible for teaching the lessons of life. He went on to mention that effectively trained youths entering their independent years would have a more conscious view of his/her actions concerning a safer environment, be less prone to be a part of abusive relationships, be aware of hygiene and proper exercising to develop healthier minds and bodies, appreciate and sponsor the arts privately, because they would be productive members of the society with the basic family values needed to make the greatest impact in the prospering of our future. And let me add, Joe continued, the funding need for this program now will come back to us threefold within seven years. It all boils down to teaching our young, neglected people and starting as soon as possible to assure great successes across every element of discussion here today.

With that, a momentary but very noticeable silence fell over the room as a number of thoughts had been stirred.

Okay, the facilitator said, very interesting indeed. Now I believe the issue of domestic violence is next up. Needless to say, the final three issues were kind of blended with Joe’s philosophical approach, and since Joe’s numbers game was so impressive, no one bothered to dispute them. Therefore, when all was said and done, the group stuck with his request.

The final test over, the candidates were free to go. Joe exited the store with confidence. How not could he be chosen given such a performance and knowing the atmosphere within major corporations to ride the pervasive current of affirmative action, so prevalent at the time? Time now for some of Mom’s home cooking.

Chapter 3

The anxiously anticipated letter finally arrived seven days after the process. Joe gazed at the envelope a few seconds before opening it. Thoughts of acceptance, denial, fear all raced through his mind as he opened the envelope and began to read,

Mr. Joe,

We’d like to inform you that you have been selected to be a part of the Sears Executive Management Training core… (Jubilant thoughts bounced around in Joe’s head as he continued to read.) We look forward to having an individual of your caliber as part of the Sears family. Your preferred training site in Chicago is at its capacity. Since you did not give a second preference, we have selected the next nearest training facility. You are to report on July 9 to the Sears store in Detroit…

A sudden gasp came over Joe as he finished reading the letter informing him to report on the specified date, at a designated time, and to whom. This was certainly a bittersweet moment in time. The extreme high felt of securing a job suddenly toppled with a vision of leaving the nest so abruptly and completely for the first time.

Hey, Mom, Joe started as he entered the kitchen. Got the letter. Got hired. But I guess they didn’t have any openings here.

What do you mean? questioned Mom. He went on to tell her the context of the letter and the dilemma now facing them. Joe, always a homebody, was suddenly thrust into the concept of independent living, confused on how to handle it. He had wanted so badly to start in his hometown and ease his way out of the comforts of the family domain. A stable black middle-class existence, both parents born and reared in Mississippi, made the trek north as the opportunities for a brighter future presented themselves in the midst of the civil rights evolution of the late ‘50s into the ‘60s. Joe II, Joe’s father, worked as a construction laborer and, for only one brief moment of unemployment lasting less than a year, worked continually, providing for the family. Addean, his mother, also did her share when times required she work outside the home; did so. But she fit the mold of the strong, supportive, nurturing, and all-around ideal housewife.

The news now broken, no one knew exactly how to proceed until his mother said, Well, you know we have close relatives in Detroit.

Who? Joe queried.

You know, she replied, giving the name of a couple of her close cousins, suggesting they would be pleased to offer their assistance if I chose to settle there. Joe’s father, on the other hand, suggested maybe following up on another job opportunity Joe had just received.

I guess we’ll just have to sleep on it. As Joe closed the conversation, he went to the privacy of his room, turned the radio to his favorite station, and contemplated a decision that would shape the rest of his life.

A new day dawns.

Hey, Dudz, Joe spoke to his father, already up and having his coffee at the kitchen. I think we should go take a look at this store. Joe was referring to Detroit. We can visit Mom’s folks and get a lay of the land. At least that way, Joe felt he’d be better able to make a decision. His mother approved of the idea, and so Joe and his father set off on their way the next morning.

On the road again, Joe thought as the miles rolled along. He had just gotten back from a trip to Mississippi. It had been his first solo trip, embarked upon soon after graduation. All previous trips south were tied to the annual family road trips to visit the relatives. This particular trip, however, had another motive. Joe always enjoyed going south as a youngster; seeing cows along the road, chasing chickens, fishing, and hanging with his grandfather were among his favorite memories.

This most recent trip was made due to the callings of a particular young female voice. One of those special callings that could not be resisted from a person first seen and heard only a year ago; it captivated, mesmerized, infatuated to the fullest previously dormant emotions. Joe met his southern belle the first time he went out down south. A little shack of a dance hall frequented by his older cousins, a yet to be famous Memphis vocalist providing the night’s entertainment had the place alive and rocking. It wasn’t until the live music stopped and the dance floor cleared was he able to make eye contact from across the floor.

It was the stare, though lasting only a second or two at most, the kind the movie stars try to capture but never do. The one you dream of and conjure up in your fantasy world. After several looks and no-looks, the DJ spun a tune Joe couldn’t resist. So with the beat of the music pacing his steps, he made his way across the vacant dance floor.

Would you like to dance? Joe asked.

Her mind considered the awkwardness of the situation. (When live bands play in the south, you dance; recorded interludes are designed for mingling only, not dancing.) Sure, okay, she responded. As they began to move to the music, Joe made a conscious effort to hook on this belle’s every motion, making and building a nontouching, nonverbal connection as the crowd’s eyes focused on them. After a couple of minutes, other couples joined them on the floor as if drawn in to this moment.

Thanks, Joe said after the dance was done.

And thank you, she replied with a mesmerizing Southern accent that left Joe speechless, and he smiled and walked away. A few other opportunities presented themselves as the night went on, but Joe’s courage dwindled with every passing minute, and his object of admiration was busily socializing with a group of friends that served as a shielding force barring entry.

Hey there, how you doing? came a familiar voice from behind Joe, breaking the drifting mind games going on in his mind.

Oh, hey, man! Joe was excited to see his cousin Nathan, each giving the other that customary long-time-no-see, good-to-see-you hug.

So what’s up with you? Nathan queried.

Well… Joe and his cuz then caught each other up on significant occurrences since last they talked. They always had a special bond; close in age and looks, Joe thought of himself as a transplanted Chicago version of his cousin. Nathan, however, a wee bit more outgoing in nature, a trait Joe was a bit envious of.

I’m over here with my lady. Nathan was gesturing to an area in the hall where none other than his mind time had been all evening. How strange it felt as they were walking, getting closer and closer to a dream situation. Joe wondering actually how nearby he would be to this lady. Maybe even the next table, he thought. However, Nathan’s stride did not stop at a nearby table, nor the table next to, but at her table.

Hi ya, honey, how you doing? Sorry I’m a bit late, Nathan spoke and greeted this lady sitting right next to you know who. Like whoa! I’d like you to meet my cousin from Chicago, Joe. Joe, this is Mary (though Joe really didn’t hear it, for his mind was being thrown in circles) and this is her sister, Brenda. Now how could this be? Joe thought. Just a moment before, this meeting was only a dream, and reality struck. Unexpectedly, it caused the mind and body to experience feelings of, well, you know what feelings of. If not, you will in time. Needless to say, Joe and Brenda talked and danced till the joint closed down.

Well, Joe as he walked his newfound friend to her car. Is there a chance of us getting together tomorrow, maybe take in a movie or something?

Sure, that sounds fine, she answered.

You seeing anybody? Joe questioned even though his visit here was only going to last another thirty-one hours anyway.

No, not really, came the reply that said yes to the hidden question of can I explore your world and become a more meaningful part of. See you tomorrow, Brenda said as she drove off.

So, Nathan, Joe said to his cousin as he too had escorted his lady to the same vehicle and bid her adieu. You can forget about us hooking up tomorrow. As Joe thought that whatever would happen, beats chasing chickens or playing catch.

That next night, Joe and Brenda went to the local drive-in, a first for him. Showing was a Hitchcock thriller appropriately titled Frenzy, which was the state Joe found himself in upon experiencing his first ever French kiss combined with the caressing of a female body so soft yet firm, having her breast conform to the closeness the two shared, his hands exploring the bareness of her back, slipping gently to rest just beyond the rim of silky smooth panties, all contributing to his inability to prevent the natural arousal of his body prompting a number of bathroom breaks to regain his composure. He had no idea what the movie was about once it ended.

I had fun.

I did too.

Will you write me?

You can count on it, saying to end the night.

And by the way, Joe said. This is for you. And handed her a folded piece of paper. She opened it and read,

With outside cricket noise invading my wall,

I watch my summer sunshine as it falls;

Oh my, how I wish I had more time

To live as I please and to do what I want

But being in a world as it exists today

Outside forces shape your life more than yourself

So to live my life according to their standards

I wear their clothes and play their game

All in an effort not to seem too strange

But when I think from the bottom of my soul

The way in which nature planned it to be

I think only of the wonderful time I had

With a sweet lady who continually said, Oh me.

If I were free of all my commitments

And lived my life in my own special way

I’d have you near me each and every day

’Cause when God made you, He surely did have a lot of work to do

But only for a week or two, Did you exist in my life as a dream come true

To you I’d give all to show you why, Every time I see your face I say, Oh My

What a lovely girl, what a joy divine, a true gem and one of a kind.

IT’s YOUR DIAMOND THAT SPARKLES THE BRIGHTEST IN THE SAND

She gazed at him with a slight smile and faraway eyes. Just something I wrote while thinking about you today, Joe exclaimed.

Thank you.

It sure is hard to leave, but I guess I gotta go. Joe reluctantly acknowledged. We’ll be seeing each other again, they both said without saying and parted ways for now.

And now we enter Detroit, the motor city, Joe’s father exclaimed, jolting Joe from his temporary state of nostalgia. Didn’t take long to get here. Hope I can remember how to get to Velma’s house.(Joe’s mother’s cousin) Even though the words were spoken, Joe knew it very unlikely his father would forget how to get anywhere once he’d been there before. There was never a time Joe could recall that happening.

Driving through the neighborhood streets visibly disturbed Joe. Seeing the many shuttered businesses and vacant residences didn’t quite sit well in his mind. Boy, there seems to be a lot of empty buildings and few people, Joe remarked.

Yeah, his father replied But remember the last time your mom and I were here some seven years ago, things looked a lot different, times a whole lot better. Detroit was going through the first stages of reindustrialization; the northern manufacturing cities losing jobs and people to the more conducive southern states. And from the look of things, Detroit was definitely an early casualty. As they neared their destination, Joe could not conceive the number of homes with bars