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Here’s why I have fallen in love with Michigan (again)
I have a soft spot for Michigan, in part because it was the first place I landed in America.
Flying on the long-gone PanAm, I landed at Detroit’s airport, where I was picked up by my great-uncle, the husband of my grandmother’s sister. He had a giant Chrysler New Yorker, in which he whisked me across the state to the small city of Allegan, where he was the local hospital’s administrator and my great-aunt was a nurse. I was mighty impressed with the wheels, especially since my parents drove a tiny Citroen 2CV.
And then I arrived at their house — and found almost every surface to be covered with elephants. Why? Because my great-uncle was a high-up in the Michigan Republican Party. And guess what was on TV? The Watergate Hearings. “Surely you don’t want to watch that rubbish?” he said. Overall, though, their welcome was exemplary.
