What A Day!

What a day today!

It started out with a visit to the house my great-grandfather built on Crane Street in 1912. I had a photo of my Great-grandpa and my Dad's Uncle Joe standing in front of the unfinished house of Crane Street, dated 1912. The photo has been in my glovebox for the last 6 months or so. So today I finally dropped by the house to give the photo to the house's current owners.
I pulled up to the house, which is by far the best-kept house in the whole neighborhood, despite the pukey green color it was painted. The lady of the house answered, with a teenage woman with her. I could tell by the look on her face she wasn't too enthused about some stranger knocking on her door, maybe she thought I was preaching or something. She was pretty distrustful, staying behind the closed storm door. I was able to get her to smile and lighten up a bit, although I think gender roles were at play and I might have gotten further with the man of the house if he were there. Anyway, I gave her the photo, a gift from our family to hers.
Then it was off on my wild goose chase. Or rather, the wild goose egg chase. My sister has a hobby of decorating those easter eggs with the intracate designs. I forget the name of them, Ukranian Easter Eggs or something. Anyway, she is really, really good at it. My Mom told me she wanted some big ostrich eggs or goose eggs, and my Mom told me that my Aunt told her they could be bought at Detroit's Eastern Market. So it was direct from the Crane House to the Eastern Market.
The Eastern Market is a little bit further than a stone's throw from St. Joe's, and my grandpa used to do a lot of shopping there. I remember my grandma and grandpa taking me with them shopping there when I was a little kid, maybe 7-8 years old or so. It is a great place to people watch, there are all kinds of people there. And the little birds are flying around indoors, too.
So I found some goose eggs, $2 each; I was able to negotiate $1 off a lot of 8 of them. I called my sister on the cell phone to tell her I scored. I also asked her if she wanted me to buy a live goose for $10, that way she could get as many eggs as she wants. But she politely declined my offer. I guess she never took Economics 101.
Actually, I think she did take Economics 101, because she shops at Wal-Mart all the time. And in a single-period game theory, that makes sense. But in Economics 501, you learn about multi-period game theory. If she had taken more economics she would realize the downward pressure on her community's and children's and grandchildren's wages tommorrow would outweigh any perceived advantages to shopping at Wal-Mart today. Not to mention the marginal increase in jobs moving overseas. But unfortunately, the rest of the world isn't as smart and educated as I am to understand that.
So from the Eastern Market is was off to UAW Local 174 in Romulus. This Local is where the above mural is. This mural was painted in 1937, and has Walter Reuther in it, and Victor Reuther driving the sound truck. It depicts the state of the labor movement in Detroit in 1937. They are trying to restore this mural now, as it is discolored from years of cigarette and cigar smoke in a smokey union hall.
Then we had the program. A short movie about the 1913 massacre (www.1913massacre.com) in Calumet, Michigan. Some miners were having a party on Christmas Eve, and some scab came in and yelled "Fire!" The resulting stampede killed 80 people, including 73 children at the party.
Then we had an inspiring movie about Julius Margolin, a long-time union activist (www.georgeandjulius.com).
This event was put on by Jobs With Justice and the Wobblies. The Wobblies (www.iww.org) are on the fringes of the labor movement for several reasons. But one thing they have going for them is thier motto: "An injury to one is an injury to all." Sounds a lot like "whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto me," doesn't it? And without all the dogma and mumbo-jumbo to go with it. Anyway, you can say what you want about the Wobblies but I'll tell you what: in Detroit, whenever there are workers struggling for justice, in a strike, lockout, or whatever, the Wobblies are always there.
I was sitting at a table with 4 others, and two of them were former East Siders: Harper and Van Dyke and Gratiot and 6 Mile. We had a short talk about the tragedy of the great moral failure of the urban blight in Detroit.
Anyway, then some guy puled out a guiter and we sang some songs. Would you like to sing along with me?
"There is justice in the land, there is justice in the land, there is justice in the land where I'm bound.
There is freedom in the land, there is freedom in the land, there is freedom in the land where I'm bound.
Ain't no bosses in the land, ain't no bosses in the land, ain't no bosses in the land, where I'm bound.
Ain't no Cheney in the land, ain't no Cheney in the land, ain't no Cheney in the land, where I'm bound.
Ain't no Bush in the land, ain't no Bush in the land, ain't no Bush in the land, where I'm bound.
There is love in the land, there is love in the land, there is love in the land, where I'm bound.
There's one big union in the land, one big union in the land, there's one big union in the land, where I'm bound."