Musings from my driveway, my home and my heart
My 14-year-old niece Julia has been absorbed by the story of St. Genevieve, a Catholic nun who lived in the fourth century and successfully faced down Attila the Hun as he and his hordes threatened Paris. Julia chose “Genevieve” as her confirmation name, a Catholic tradition that is part of Confirmation, a sacrament that signals... Continue Reading →
The time and date of my wedding were inconvenient for my extended Polish family, a gambling group who liked to place bets on everything from the World Series to the next pope. I got married at 5 p.m. on May 6, 1978 at Our Lady Queen of Hope church in Detroit, which coincided with post... Continue Reading →
"Anita Lienert is a master storyteller, using all of the skills she acquired as a reporter to weave together remembrances of Detroit that are both personal and provocative. This is a true blog, taking readers on a journey beyond quotes and facts and into territory they can feel. Whether writing with style and substance about... Continue Reading →
I always ended up with garlic breath after digging into my Easter basket as a kid. That’s because unlike American-style baskets, which were filled with chocolate bunnies and jelly beans, mine had a distinctly Polish flavor. My Polish grandmother, whose day job was running a little bar for Detroit factory workers on Michigan Avenue, always... Continue Reading →
My husband and I had front row seats at the Ricky Skaggs concert at The Ark concert hall in Ann Arbor, Michigan last Saturday – but it actually felt more like a pew. Even before Skaggs and his Kentucky Thunder band began playing, the religious tone of the concert was apparent. Roadies filled a rack... Continue Reading →
As part of the gig economy, I’ve been on several job interviews in the past year. I made a major gaffe during an interview for a freelance project not long ago and I’ve also learned from friends in human resources that others are being tripped up by this particular stumbling block. It has to do... Continue Reading →
When my grandmother Rozalia Krzemienski stepped off the Majestic – the sister ship of the Titanic – and arrived in America in 1928, she was an immigrant with a third-grade education, $2 in her pocket and a dream to come to Detroit and start a new life. Like many immigrants, she did not appear to... Continue Reading →
It’s been a monastic life for me as a writer for the past 25 years, since I’ve largely abandoned newsrooms and classrooms in favor of a home office. For 15 of those years, my faithful co-worker has been my miniature schnauzer Pinki, who would arise with me at 5 a.m. and shepherd me into my... Continue Reading →
My sister and I spent nearly every Christmas Day when we were growing up at the Greyhound bus terminal in Detroit – going nowhere. Our family fell a little short of the Norman Rockwell version of Christmas. Like many people, my mother struggled with the pressures of Christmas Day and dealing with three small children.... Continue Reading →
When a neighbor in her Polish village raised his rifle and shot her little dog, that was just the beginning of the heartache for my grandmother. The dog’s furry brown pelt was used as a collar on a new winter coat made by the neighbor’s wife. Grandma was reminded of the violent act every day... Continue Reading →
Anita's Way 