That Jeep escaped hell and high water. That Jeep survived when other cars died on the highway. That Jeep transported 14 desperate men, women and children out of the watery grip of Hurricane Katrina and for two days, they squeezed and shifted and lay atop each other inside it, for hundreds of miles, until they finally reached the safe ground of a strange city called Detroit, a place most of them had never seen. That Jeep got them here.And then it got stolen."It's gone," Earl Walker told me Tuesday afternoon. "Somebody took it."
Not to be a wet blanket, but Red Wings fans, party at your own risk. Hockey may be back, but when your best offensive player isn't even on the continent, only a fool pops champagne.Here are two sobering words: "Pavel" and "Datsyuk." Any hockey expert will tell you he's the future of the Wings. And he's not here! He's in Russia, possibly under contract to not one but two teams. Ken Holland, charged with tightening Detroit's belt, has muffed the first lesson of Salary Cap 101: Sign your biggest star.
A half-hour before kickoff, a heavyset man in a T-shirt walked down the Ford Field steps, holding hands with his 8-year-old son. They were wide-eyed at the sight of the gathering crowd, so many clad in blue and silver.The Lions were not their football team, but they were today. Sterling Adams and his son, Eric, had escaped the floodwaters of Hurricane Katrina, had driven up in a stuffed vehicle from New Orleans, and now, thanks to the kindness of the Lions' public relations staff, father and son had tickets for the opener. The long wait for a day of fun was over.
You are a man in a storm. The storm is rising, blowing your way. Your neighbor, Earl, is saying, "Come on, man, we can go to Detroit. We'll be safe there."Detroit, you think? You live in New Orleans. You're not going to Detroit. Besides, you've seen hurricanes before. Water comes up. Water goes down.But your wife, this time, she's worried. Earl is going crazy on Detroit. He says, "I'm gonna empty the washers and dryers" and next thing you know he has a big bag of quarters and guess what? That's your gas money.
Mitch Albom writes about running an orphanage in impoverished Port-au-Prince, Haiti, his kids, their hardships, laughs and challenges, and the life lessons he’s learned there every day.