One hesitates before adding “of course” after “Detroit,” because we are talking here about a man’s death, perhaps by foul play. But we’re also talking about the death of a great industrial civilization — a death by a thousand cuts, all from progressive blades.
Can you imagine a person found half-eaten in his own home, in the city busy and rich and just plain wonderful enough to give the world the 1953 Cadillac Eldorado?
How about that happening in the city that made this, the 1966 Pontiac GTO?
It’s a little easier to imagine it happening in the city that had gone so far off course, it tried to pass off the Cimarron as the same make as the Eldorado.
And the Aztec?
This is what GM thought a Pontiac should be in the ’90s.
As GM went, so went Detroit. Or maybe it was the other way around. They damn near took the rest of the industrial midwest with them.
It’s difficult to remember, back back when the United States produced half of the world’s manufactured wealth, that half of that wealth was produced just in the Great Lakes region — with Detroit as its shining, chrome-plated, eight-cylinder, high-gloss, go-get-em, take-no-prisoners capital city.
The city where now they find corpses half-eaten by wild animals.