Americans Left Behind



We crossed the border into Michigan last night and stayed outside of Detroit. Driving south this morning we drove past repeating neighborhoods of small houses, some still lived in, many boarded up, and others looted. Some homes showed evidence of interior fires. The neighborhoods were interspersed with the occasional large abandoned building. Bumpy patches made the highway rough, and it was lined with an unusual amount of litter: plastic bags, cups, truck tires that had peeled off long ago, abandoned cars, and every so often an animal carcass. It looked like a scene preceding a Mad Max world.

Maybe Pottersville. Billboards asked drivers if they had a plan in case of a health emergency and advertised a solution; others promised weight loss to the obese; those with mortgage troubles were offered help for a price; and casinos advertised Camaros and cash prizes. A heavy ache grew inside me and I felt close to tears as my Canadian daughter practiced the words to the Star Spangled Banner in the back seat. How could a country abandon its people so? What would the US do to rescue an American hostage in Afghanistan, as it leaves millions held hostage to poverty to suffer and die at home? This is not the country I thought I grew up in. Will it turn itself around?

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