If you knew me, you would know that I like to run. Through running, I’ve explored many cities, domestically and abroad. Running has given me many chances to understand the geography of a place. Through running I’ve found safe spaces and not so safe spaces, hidden public art, wanderers, locals and tourists. I’ve been asked to give directions, I’ve had short conversations in which I’ve been asked what mile I’m on, and even congratulated for my efforts. I have had all of these interactions and more in the streets of Detroit. One interaction though I will never forget.
Detroit Riverfront
I finished one of my mid-week training runs and stopped on Woodward, just past Comerica Park. From a distance I saw a man. I’ll be honest, he sparked my interest. I only saw the back of his head at the time, and there was a part of me that was instantly drawn to him. I became curious and started to ask myself “I wonder where he came from”, “what is he doing?”, “what is he holding?”, “how long had he been traveling?”, and “would he be bothered if I approached him from behind?”
Brush Park, Detroit
I continued to walk closer and finally found the courage to approach the man in a wheelchair whose name I came to learn was George*. George was likely in his late 60’s. I was interested in George’s story because he seemed to have a life I wanted to learn about. I learned that it had been 10 years since George had visited downtown. He recently moved to the Midtown area in November, and finally got a chance to pay the waterfront a visit. George told me that years ago no one was around, and that his stroll down Woodward was a pleasant surprise. He said “there are many diverse groups now.”
The Old Tiger Stadium, Corktown, Detroit
George travelled almost 3 miles in a wheelchair to spend the day fishing. Sadly, he was unsuccessful and left for home empty handed. I don’t want readers to remember his unsuccessful fishing trip. Instead I want readers to remember this man’s determination. Before George made his way down Woodward Avenue using his own devices, he attempted to board a public bus. George waited for the bus only to find out that he missed it by 20 minutes. Rather than waiting for an unknown amount of time for another George took it upon himself to find his own way down Woodward to the river. That’s determination!
George had just one leg and arm that were mobile. He used one of his legs to propel him forward, the other was the obvious cause for his special mobility. One of his arms was used to hold a fishing pole which I learned once prevented him from entry on a public bus because it could be used as a weapon. The man used one arm and one leg to travel down one of the most travelled streets in southeastern Michigan, I should also add that it’s in disrepair due to the construction of the M-1 Rail.
I walked with George for approximately 5 blocks. In that time I listened, asked questions, and talked to a stranger that I may never have interacted with had it not been for me running that night. The interactions that I’ve had on the streets of Detroit make me happy to live here. People are welcoming, they’re open, they are gracious, open and humble. George was all of these things.
Dequindre Cut, Detroit
I have a chance to write about my experiences each month in a blog to share with whoever is willing to read it. These moments of self-reflection and remembering what I’ve done over the past month are a special time in which I can think about the many positive things that have impacted my life here. I want to remember George. I think about him and the many people who live here that have to find alternatives to get where they need to go because they lack access to transportation.
Eastside, Detroit
Some don’t want a helping hand. George certainly didn’t seem distressed about missing the bus. He was simply happy that the sun was shining and he got to experience it. Would his experience have been better had the bus been on time? Would his experience have been worse? Would George have caught a fish had he been on the bus? These questions may not have answers, but they’re certainly worth asking and thinking about.
I greatly benefitted meeting George on a random April day. I hope I run into George again, and I hope I listen to my inner voice again.
*I’ve chosen to omit the man’s name so he remains anonymous.