LeighMo's bit of heaven (or hell)

I remember growing up thinking I lived in the best state. We made cars; everyone loved cars. Needed them, a necessity. They came in all colors and sizes, with fancy features that seemed to put the old ones to shame every years.

My mother and her sisters and brothers were housed and fed by money made by making cars; four of my uncles supported their families by building cars. Heck, my mother worked in the mailroom of a Buick headquarters office when I was young; UAW was a way of life, a means to provide and protect.

I fear the industry is dead; without the bailout, GM is slated to be out of money in a few weeks. I wonder if this is how the Romans felt when their perfect utopia collapsed; confused as to how a giant could become so insignificant, and how to try and regain the strength once it is gone for good.

I have watched this four season wonderland of mine collapse over the last six or so years. Towns that used to have charm and character are skeletol at best. There is no hope, only for sale signs that fall on blind eyes and empty pocketbooks. People are confused; how does one put thirty years of their life into their work, building things and giving their all, to be told there pension could stop coming or disappear, that the health care their spouses paid into to see them through their golden years alone is going to end? It will trickle down, on a scale much, much larger than I have seen, and frankly, I am not looking forward to it.

The lakes will still ebb and flow, and the winds will still blow their blizzardy whiteness across the open fields, but how long until all of us have fled for greener job pastures? How long until we see depression era sights, like families living on streets and pickpockets hitting the super walmart for their dinners? Will my grandmother lose what she's been living on since my grandfather died; will my ex's uncle and grandmother continue to live in their happy post-GM retirement lifestyle, or will they be as broke as I once that big third goes belly up?

When you say your prayers tonight, say one for the people of the state, for the companies that aren't running scared and already laying off. Say one that the monkey in chief does something useful and taps the TARP to help. Say one so that it does not get as bad as I fear it does, and if it does, say one so that I can get me and mine out of here so we don't have to huddle around a barrel for warmth. I am not exaggerating; desperation is setting in, I see it in people's faces.