In the Spring of 1970, following my last examination at Wayne State University, I pointed my car west and drove to California, where I spent the next 27 years.  I returned to metropolitan Detroit in mid-1997.  My perspective on my home state - then and now - separated by almost three decades of history, is one of sharp contrast. 

The Michigan I left in 1970 does not exist any more.  In 1970, Detroit reigned as the world's unchallenged and preeminent maker of automobiles.  Watergate, the waves of oil-shortage-induced gas station lines and the main force of the invasion of what were then known as "foreign cars" still lay ahead.

       Detroit's population was more twice what it is today, making it the nation's fifth largest city.  Unions were strong and the politicians liberal.  While the horror of summer of 1967 remained fresh, Detroit remained a very much racially integrated city which worked.  Hudson's downtown store and Washington Boulevard's shops and hotels were all open and busy.  The best food in town was at the London Chop House. 

When I returned here in 1997, what struck me the most about Metro Detroit is the degree of racial segregation in almost all aspects of the local culture.  Having lived in northern California most of my adult life, where whites, blacks, Hispanics, gays, Asians and Filipinos work and live almost seamlessly together, the local racial scheme here is a sharp contrast.

Detroit is an almost all black city surrounded by a ring of almost all white suburbs.  And the division is even deeper than geography.  It seems even the ownership of certain kinds of businesses is tacitly ethnically governed by race.  It appears to me one must almost certainly be of Greek extract to own or operate a coney island hot dog business or of Caldean descent to run a party store.  What's up with that?  When I ask friends that question, I get shrugged shoulders or an answer which states, in substance, "That's just the way it is."

As the parent of a teenager, I am a frequent patron of fast food establishments in mid-Oakland County.  I continue to be struck how the staff of these businesses is more often than not almost all black and the patrons almost all white.  It has been explained to me that the white teenagers of affluent Oakland County will not work for the minimum wage, so the jobs are filled by the less affluent and more eager youths from Detroit, which is free enterprise at its best and much to the credit of those commuting employees.  However, to see a line of white people being served french fries by a staff of black people sadly congers up unfortunate visions of the ante-bellum South.

When I grew up here, the Detroit Symphony played twice a week during its season at Ford Auditorium, Thursdays and Saturday nights.  Now the concerts are less frequent.  As a lover of classical music, I sought solace on the FM band and looked for the local classical music station.  There are none.  I do not think that the number of classical music stations should equal that of pop, rock, blues, jazz or even talk radio stations, but should not there be at least one source of Beethoven, Brahms and Bach in a major metropolitan region with its own "Cultural Center?"

  It saddens me to realize my home town is the butt of jokes.  For years, I have heard "Detroit - A Tour Guide" as being amongst world's shortest books.  Perhaps it is age and nostalgia at work, but I miss my old, proud vibrant Detroit.  I don't know if a classical music station or casinos will make a difference.  However, I strongly believe a genuinely racially integrated culture will have profound and positive effects.  The 2000 Census results should be the red flag that alerts our leaders to that fact and sets our community to work in that direction.