Talk about rising out of the rubble!  I should know, I’ve seen it, I’ve lived it, I AM it.

I remember when this town really meant something.  Mr. Henry Ford was busy making his cars, and lots of folks were getting pretty rich.  They all needed a nice place to shop, so Mr. Hudson built that huge store down on Woodward Avenue way back in 1911.  It grew and grew until it was 2 million square feet.  Store space, restaurants, offices, the whole thing.  They had a Thanksgiving parade two years before Macy’s did. They flew the world’s largest American flag out front, that’s now in the Smithsonian.  And on all four sides, porcelain-covered copper letters flashed “HUDSONS” in red neon.  Beautiful.

But they needed even more room.  So they built a bunch of us warehouses over here on Brush Street, to hold all the goods.  We stood here for a half-century, watching a proud city thrive.  I remember Gordie Howe bringing us the Stanley Cup in 1952 (we got more of those than any other American team); the Lions winning 3 NFL Championships in the 50’s; and the Tigers winning the 1968 Series.  People around the world drove our cars, and blared Diana Ross out of the speakers.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last.  Times got hard and people started moving out.  At night the streets grew dangerous.  People started getting angry about war, and about skin color.  A scuffle broke out over on 12th Street that turned into the worst American riot in 100 years.  7000 people arrested, almost 100 killed and 2000 injured.  My buddies and I watched as 1700 of our fellow buildings were looted and 1400 were burned to the ground.  After that, things just kept getting worse, and people kept leaving.  They demolished Mr. Hudson’s beautiful store in 1998.  Most of the warehouses followed soon after, until only two of us were left.  In 2000, we heard wrecking crews coming up Brush Street to take us down…

But then something strange happened.  Mr. William Clay Ford (Henry’s great-great-grandson) saved me.  His crew opened me up, cleaned me out, and gave me new windows.  And then they did something even more amazing: they put me right into a new football stadium.  They laid a new field just north of me, and built the new place for the Lions to play.  They turned me into offices and restaurants, and on the side facing the field, they put in private rooms for wealthy folks to eat, drink, and watch the game.  Today, as you enter Ford Field, you can see me.  I’m the whole south side of the stadium, four glorious levels of club seating.  Imagine that, me – a lowly Hudson’s merchandise warehouse – hosting Detroit’s high-and-mighty every Sunday!

And, would you believe it?  Our Lions are undefeated.  I do believe I’m the luckiest warehouse in America.