Detroit; the "Motor City," Home of Motown. We came into Detroit at about 6 PM on a Thursday night. Driving down Grand Avenue, we could see the towers of the city looming ahead. The Emerald City at the end of the rainbow. Yet, something kept catching my eye; trash! Everywhere along the streets, lay, debris. It moved in the breeze with a life of it's own. Piles of garbage, scattered bits of paper, drink cups caught in fences; everywhere. All in accent to the newly built (within the last 50 years) buildings that lined the path to the city.
It made me sad. The ride along Grand Avenue should have been uplifting. Here we were on our way into the big town and yet the trash rushed our senses.
At about this time, my teenage son turned on the radio. The Motown sound filled our van. Angels came out of the heavens. The trash stepped back. Voices soothed us. The city took on an entirely different look.
Before, all I'd been able to see was "Cars Hand Washed," "Girls,Girls, Girls," or just generic graffiti. Now, I noticed churches and groups of people standing on the sidewalks; talking and laughing while their babies kicked at imaginary objects from their strollers. It was just music, yet, what a difference the sound makes.
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