Living in Detroit, I have tried to imagine a time in the city’s history when its skies were filled with skyscrapers and factories, dedicated to the city’s manufacturing prestige. I have tried to envision its neighborhoods filled with the working citizens that sculpted America’s middle class, but that vision is blurred by the city’s everlasting free fall. Despite its past successes the city of Detroit has been marred by untouchable events: race riots in the summer of 1967 which resulted in the decimation of countless city blocks, the fall of the American auto industry and its following unemployment and countless cases of corruption by city officials. The remnants of these crises now serve as the landscape for Detroit’s 138 miles. It is normal to see homes dissolve into abandoned shacks and fall into the city’s ever-growing fields. It is routine to drive down a large avenue and not encounter a car for miles. That image of Detroit that I have searched for no longer exists in its original form as there are only fragments left. I am left with pieces of the past, trying to build what once was there as a way of coping with the current reality of Detroit.