Going Home

Frank Tanana on the Fletcher Field mound

They began the season 9-16, squeaked into the playoffs and then exited the postseason in just five games.

Still, the 1987 Detroit Tigers are my all-time favorite team because of how they rebounded from their slow start and the way they wrested the American League East title from the Toronto Blue Jays during the final weekend of the season, which was capped by a legendary pitching performance by hometown boy Frank Tanana -- who once owned the mound at Fletcher Field.

A brief baseball history lesson for those who need it: The Tigers ended the 1987 regular season with a three-game series against the Blue Jays at home and needed a sweep to earn the division title. Taking two of three would have resulted in a one-game, winner-takes-the-division playoff between the two teams. Losing two of three would have meant a division title for the Blue Jays.

The Tigers won the first two games by the narrowest of margins, 4-3 and 3-2. It took 12 innings to decide the middle game of the series, which ended when Alan Trammell knocked in Jim Walewander with a ground-ball single that Blue Jays shortstop Manny Lee probably should have handled.

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Over the river and through the woods -- by ambulance

We all stood there peering out the sliding glass door of my parents' house in Roseville last night, watching with macabre fascination as the Beaumont Hospital crew loaded Grandma Lemanski into an ambulance for her trip back to the nursing home.

It was a blessing for the entire family to have Grandma L. at Thanksgiving dinner. But at 95 years old and pretty much 150 pounds of dead weight, the only way to safely get her there and then back home was by ambulance.

So, after the turkey, dressing, pierogies, pies ... enough food for our table of 52 ... we kissed Grandma L. goodbye and looked on as they packed her into the ambulance -- much the same way the leftovers were stuffed into the refrigerator for Friday's secondary feast.

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A facinating Holy Name pic from Facebook

I'm not a huge Facebook fan, mostly because I would rather spend time with my friends, not waste my time in a virtual world.

Nevertheless, I do have a Facebook page, update it fairly regularly and today was invited to join the Holy Name of Jesus Elementary School Detroit, MI., group.

As of right now, there are 32 members of the group and five pictures posted to the page. One, added by Jim Walson, is attached to this post. It's entitled "Merry Christmas picture given by Mr. Marral 1965."

I think it's totally fascinating to look at. Don't you? Do you recognize yourself or anybody else?

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Still grieving for the old neighborhood

Experts say the grieving process is similar for all us.

We go through five stages after an emotional crisis: anger, guilt, depression, withdrawal and then, finally, acceptance.

But those same experts say we sometimes skip a stage or revert back.

I did so this weekend, felt more than a little depressed when we were passing out Thanksgiving baskets to some of the old neighborhood's most needy.

For the most part, I've come to accept that the neighborhood I grew up in is gone forever. Although I don't accept what the area is now -- will do everything I can to change it for the better -- I rarely pine for the past anymore when I'm in and around Fletcher Field.

I couldn't help myself, though, as I watched my two sons, 10-year-old Louis and 7-year-old Shaun, play football with a few others on the lawn in front of the old Holy Name of Jesus Elementary School on Sunday. The scene was at the same time very familiar and totally foreign to my senses.

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Baskets of hope

Thanks to the donations and efforts of so many, 30 families in the neighborhood around Fletcher Field on Sunday received Thanksgiving baskets, which were stuffed to the brim with turkeys and all the trimmings.

God bless all of the givers and receivers of this bounty over the holiday season and throughout the year. Lest we forget, we are all God's children and, as He commanded, stewards of each other.

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Help your favorite non-profit!

Did you know that Chase Bank is running a contest to award money to your favorite charities?

The contest is only open to those on Facebook, and you have to sign up with Chase as a FAN. Your charity also has to be listed on their charity list, which is extensive -- over 500,000 strong. You can do a search by city and location (Detroit -- Belle Isle) to narrow your view. Some charities' 501(c)(3) designations are listed under legal names, so you may have to search a little.

If interested in helping the Friends of Belle Isle, please go to www.facebook.com/chasecommunitygiving. Click on the "Chase giving" tab and pick Friends of Belle Isle Inc. of Detroit as your favorite charity.

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Too many to personally thank now

As Thanksgiving approached two years ago, I was able to thank everybody involved with the work in and around Fletcher Field, fewer than 50 people, in a single blog post.

Less than a week before Thanksgiving 2009, I couldn't possibly guess how many folks have put their hand prints on this project.

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Thanksgiving baskets and a tree lighting

This Friday at 7 p.m. we will be at the old Holy Name convent, now the multipurpose building for Shield of Faith, putting together Thanksgiving baskets.

Our hope is to provide a turkey and all the trimmings to at least 25 needy families in the area around SOF and Fletcher Field.

If you would like to donate to the cause, please email SOF minister Imogene Johnson at wdjohnson0742@sbcglobal.net, or you can simply drop off nonperishable items or cash donations at the church on Friday.

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Gremlins at Fletcher Field

The dreams about Fletcher Field and the neighborhood come less frequently now than when I first returned there in the summer of 2007.

Back then, I was often haunted by nightmares of the blighted area -- young children traipsing through the weeds and skeletons of playground equipment in what was once the centerpiece of the neighborhood. At least twice a week, I would wake up in a cold sweat and have trouble shaking off the images so I could get back to sleep.

Last night, for the first time in months, my dreams took me home again. But this wasn't really a nightmare. Fletcher Field was as it is now -- a beautiful, safe place for children to play and dream about better tomorrows.

In my dream, I had stopped by the park as I sometimes do just to check on the place, honestly, to see if any vandalism or illegal dumping had happened there. I stood near my usual perch at Fletcher, the little barbecue on the west side of the park, just south of Mt. Olivet Street.

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Our pet teachers

Mr. Moser, Mrs. Schalk, Sister Ann Kathleen.

Those were just some of the names being tossed around during a Friends of Fletcher Field meeting last night, when we started to talk about our favorite teachers at Holy Name.

The reason for the conversation is that we're thinking about honoring former H.N. teachers during the third annual Holy Name reunion, which is scheduled for Saturday, March 20, 2010, 7 p.m. at Lakeland Banquet & Event Center in St. Clair Shores.

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Watching 'Sesame Street' from Dobel Street

Can you tell me how to get ... how to get to Sesame Street?

With a state-of-the-art (for 1970) rotary antenna attached to the top of our chimney at 8271 Dobel, "Sesame Street" was a pretty easy find for me as child: PBS Channel 56.

Depending on the cloud cover and wind, sometimes Big Bird, Oscar The Grouch and Cookie Monster were a little fuzzy to the eye, but they were always food for the mind and fun to watch over a bowl of Fruit Loops in the morning.

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What's wrong with these pictures?

I can't decide what was the more unsettling sight:

The disheveled guy I saw walking down Gratiot last week, pushing a shopping cart with all his worldly possessions inside of it.

Or the woman I saw in Los Angeles on Thursday, dressed to the hilt and pushing her dog -- which was much bigger than Paris Hilton's purse-size pooch -- in a fancy stroller.

Wonder what would happen if their paths crossed. Would dog-stroller woman help out shopping-cart man?

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L.A. hasn't burned down

I got off the plane yesterday half expecting to find most of Los Angeles on fire.

That's what it looked like from the video footage and doomsday commentary I saw Tuesday on television anyway.

Funny thing, when I've told people from L.A. that Detroit is my hometown, they seemed surprised that anybody still lives in Motown. They say that from what they've seen on TV, they perceived all of Michigan as hell on earth.

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Sticking around the old neighborhood

I left The Detroit News yesterday, started a new job today and am headed to L.A. soon for some training.

Life is good for me. But it's still not so good for the kids on Dobel Street.

That's why it matters not where I go professionally; it just matters that we stay put in the old neighborhood and stick up for the kids who need a voice.

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Community treat

It was like the days of yore on the northeast corner of Mack and Brys in Grosse Pointe Woods Saturday night.

A bonfire raged in a portable pit on the front lawn while about a dozen adults from the neighborhood sat around the hearth, drinking sodas and spirits, and handing out candy to young trick-or-treaters.

You could feel the warmth as you approached the house, not just from the fire, but from the people themselves, who were clearly enjoying the company, and welcoming the kids with smiles and compliments on their costumes. Better yet, they offered each adult passerby a beer treat for stopping by with the kids.

This wasn't the only stop that felt old-school comfortable. Most of the folks I met while accompanying my kids on their trick-or-treat trek were remarkably jovial, generous with their treats and conversation, and seemed to take as much as they gave from the experience.

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