It’s burnt down?

One reader of Intersections sent a note today, that it had completely burnt down.  Rex Dame happened to be driving by and saw it completely engulfed in flames.  Some folks in the neighborhood think it was arson since there was another major fire across the street two days before.

It is our old Temple building in Detroit.  Which I describe something of in the love of life in quiet Detroit.

I have mixed feelings.  What good was it to anyone?  Abandoned in diminishing dignity.  But, the people who came there, young guys who played in the warped floor-board gym with water dripping or gushing from its ceiling, down its walls, freezing during the winter.  The staff who froze, and then in the summers sweltered.  The young kindergarten boy who came to our programs, who then one morning at home did a strange little jig and dropped dead.  The young people who crowded the building for activities, programs, just to hang out.  Teens and adults from Royal Oak Corps who came to help clean that nasty alley running north from behind the Temple.  Steve Diaz brought them.  Our cook, Mary, working in our woeful basement kitchen.  And the men and women and children who walked down those worn steps to eat a hot meal.

Buildings do have meaning, regardless of their grandeur or their grittiness.  They have meaning because of those who abide.  Our guests.  Our family.  Who are my brothers and sisters, my mother, my father?  I simply look at the building, and there they are.  As I remember.Dundee  4 13 2013 c

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