Sometimes when I’m walking I like to do what the Buddhists do and really feel the ground under my feet with each step. It is kind of liberating. Sometimes I start talking to the ground… do you know me, do you remember me as a child? When I go back to places I’ve lived temporarily, it seems like the ground has already forgotten me. It started moving into the future the second I left. In Detroit, I can feel my own history underneath me. Do I know you? Do I know you? What kind of question is that? I gave birth to you.
THE PLACES MEMORY REMEMBERS
Do you remember, when I was a kid, you used to tell me you were taking me to Donkey Joe’s and you’d drive me around for a half hour looking for it. You’d point to someone’s house and say “There’s Donkey Joe’s,” and we’d laugh and drive off. We never found Donkey Joe’s. But eventually we’d pull into A&W, and have a root beer float at the drive in. It’s a drive thru now. And just today I got curious, I looked up Donkey Joe’s. It has a Facebook page, but no address.
"Hey what street you live on in Detroit?"
"Oh, Trumbull. I know Trumbull. There used to be a bar on Trumbull and Michigan. We’re not bar people, but I used to pick up your grandmother there after Tiger’s games. It was called Toot’s. Still there?"
LIFE BEING WELL LIVED
Bob. 83 years old. Volunteer popcorn popper at at the Redford Theatre for 43 years