Detroit Journal: The End of the Affair

I’ve been moping around lately, mourning the end of the line for the iconic Volkswagen Beetle – even though I contributed to its demise (crossovers and not Beetles are parked in my garage today). Volkswagen is halting production of the Beetle in July 2019 and says it has no immediate plans to replace the storied... Continue Reading →

1968 Detroit Tigers: Accessible Heroes

My 13-year-old sister Claudia became something of a celebrity stalker in 1968, when every kid in my family and on our block was obsessed with baseball and the Detroit Tigers, who were in a heated pennant race and would go on the win the World Series. One summer afternoon, she jumped on her purple Schwinn... Continue Reading →

Detroit Journal: Giving Up the Steering Wheel

I had two significant experiences with self-driving vehicles on June 26 in the Detroit area that brought me closer to trusting these robot rides. In the morning I attended the May Mobility launch of its fleet of six-passenger electric vehicles designed to carry property management company Bedrock’s employees to work in a short loop in... Continue Reading →

Detroit Journal: St. Genevieve and #MeToo

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 →

2017 SPJ Detroit Award Winner

"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 →

Detroit Journal: A Babushka Easter

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 →

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