A couple weeks ago I received an e-mail from a producer at The Rachel Maddow Show asking me if I could take some pictures for a segment on that evening's show about the Catherine Ferguson Academy and its 2012 graduating class. A lot has been written about this school (documentaries have even been made about it), but basically it's a school for girls in Detroit who are either pregnant or already mothers. The school provides childcare and is located on an urban farm with a curriculum developed by science teacher Paul Weertz that brilliantly teaches the students how plants and animals grow on the farm while that new human life grows inside them. The school struggled last year with threatened closure by an emergency financial manager and was a frequent subject for Ms. Maddow on her television program. This year the class that wasn't even sure it would have a senior year was graduating, and I was honored with the opportunity to document that.

It was an emotional and powerful experience to see these young women celebrate the end of their high school career and hear them talk about all their challenges and hopes (all of them have applied for college and most hope to attend in the fall), and it was so amazing to see them celebrating with the families and friends who supported them while they navigated to difficulties of studying, working, and caring for their infant children while attending high school. This was also very humbling for me, especially because some of these graduates had children the same age as my youngest (while themselves young enough to be my own children). This has affected me more deeply than I would have expected. I struggle to write about how much I admire them.
 

So, congratulations to the Catherine Ferguson Academy's Class of 2012. The Rachel Maddow Show gave me permission to share some of the photos that didn't make the cut here.

Previous Inspiration
 

This blog is intended solely to share the things I come across that inspire me. If I have posted a copyrighted image, I have only done so to the extent necessary to comment upon or discuss it; I will always include a link to the original source of the image if that source is online or acknowledge the source if it is in print. If I have reproduced anything of yours here that is copyrighted and you want me to remove it, please do not hesitate to contact me and I will do so right away.

Last week I was down in Louisville, Kentucky, where my friends from all over the country met to celebrate the upcoming nuptials of one of the last unmarried holdouts among us. Louisville is a lovely city, and a great location for visiting some bourbon distilleries. My wife gets me a few interesting bottles of bourbon for my birthday every year, and despite its ugly label Buffalo Trace is one of my favorites. It turns out a single distillery can makes dozens of bourbon labels, and even generally crappy brands like Jim Beam or Wild Turkey can make high-quality batches that get different labels. I was excited to see this particular distillery and get a sense of how this uniquely American beverage is made.

This location in Frankfort was supposedly a place where herds of buffalo once crossed the Kentucky River and spirits have been distilled there since before 1773 (the oldest building on the site dates to 1792). Most of the current buildings seemed to have been built between the 1870s and prohibition. We arrived late for the tour we'd planned to attend, which gave us a chance to wander around the grounds and see the more industrial areas of the distillery:

I really liked the contrast between the factory-like distilling portion and the barrel-aging buildings that made up most of the tour. It is the aging, after all, that makes bourbon really special and so different from other mass-produced spirits. To be considered a bourbon under federal law, a whiskey must be aged in an unused white oak barrel charred on the inside. So the distillery consists of dozens of massive aging warehouses made of brick or limestone or metal, with the differences imparting different characteristics to the various labels of bourbon aged there. We learned that it can also make a big difference to the bourbon on which floor of the building its barrel spends its life.

The air here smelled incredible. We live across the river from a Canadian whiskey distillery and I'm used to the smell that drifts across on the days the mash is cooking, but that smell was nothing compared to the aroma of those millions of gallons of straight Kentucky bourbon aging on a 90 degree day. The tour guide this has long been called the "angels' share" and it did indeed smell like heaven.

Our tour guide was J.W., the sort of guy who appears to love what he is doing so much that your own joy seems dim and bleak in comparison. "I wish there was anything in this world I enjoyed doing as much as that guy appears to enjoy giving distillery tours," I might have muttered.  

One of the coolest part of the tour was the bottling room for the distiller's elite bourbons, where we were given unfettered access to walk around and look and everything. I have been on my share of factory tours where it felt like you were being herded through and not allowed to photograph or even look at certain things. That wasn't the case here. They were bottling single barrel Blanton's that week.

We used to go up to Napa Valley once or twice a year when we lived in California and this was so much better. The buildings here were truly old and functional, not the sort of faux-historical 1990s chateau-grotesque buildings/wedding backdrops most of the winemakers are so proud of out there in wine country. The Buffalo Trace tour was free and included two tastings and a chocolate bourbon ball (how many wineries in Napa still do free tastings?).

Maybe I'm just biased. Tasting wine always makes me feel boorish and clueless. But tasting bourbon makes me feel good.

Previous Inspiration
 

This blog is intended solely to share the things I come across that inspire me. If I have posted a copyrighted image, I have only done so to the extent necessary to comment upon or discuss it; I will always include a link to the original source of the image if that source is online or acknowledge the source if it is in print. If I have reproduced anything of yours here that is copyrighted and you want me to remove it, please do not hesitate to contact me and I will do so right away.

Ship launch from Cockatoo Island Dockyard - The "River Hunter" A class standard steamship released along a slipway into Sydney Harbour, 1945, Photograph by Alan Evans.

I was cleaning up my desktop this morning and saw this picture there; it's one I return to often. I first saw it on one of my favorite websites (I Had Dreams Like That, which sadly hasn't been updated in some time) last fall, and it has haunted me ever since. He found it in the Historic Houses Trust picture collection, here.

There are so many things that make this a perfect photograph for me, from the technical matter of its symmetry and the shared perspective with the figures in the foreground and the anonymity of the figures in the background. I wondered if it would work as well in black and white:

I don't think it does. I like the orange version better. The man's hat stands out more in the orange. It feels more like a snapshot (it is). The original is only 5 x 7.5 cm. It's tiny.

I love how the subjects backs are turned. How could anyone turn away from this moment? Having the man and the boy's faces turned away allows us to almost imagine ourselves in their place: the wonder of the boy as the giant ship is launched, the pride of the anonymous man in worker's clothes who might have helped build it. And then there are the universal themes heavy in any picture of a ship launching, but especially this one. A job is done. A journey is beginning. As downtown guy says, "Some stay home, some go to sea."

Previous Inspiration
 

This blog is intended solely to share the things I come across that inspire me. If I have posted a copyrighted image, I have only done so to the extent necessary to comment upon or discuss it; I will always include a link to the original source of the image if that source is online or acknowledge the source if it is in print. If I have reproduced anything of yours here that is copyrighted and you want me to remove it, please do not hesitate to contact me and I will do so right away.

We had the pleasure of spending some time at Detroit's historic Fort Wayne during a recent volunteer "cleanup day," and we were blown away by what we saw there. I hadn't visited the fort in a few years, and I was extremely impressed with the work that the Historic Fort Wayne Coalition had done to preserve the fort and present it to this community. The Coalition formed in 2004, and includes many suburban residents who care deeply about this historical site within the city of Detroit, and have taken up the burden of its care and restoration while the city's budget is stretched too thin. I cut a section about Fort Wayne from my recent post about "Fauxtopias" in Detroit's suburbs, because that post was really, really long. But I think the Fort really represents what I'm talking about when it comes to historic preservation and the city of Detroit.

Here is a truly historical site within the city of Detroit set up naturally as a military "village." There are officers' single homes, apartment-like barracks, recreation facilities, a theater, a hospital, a service club, and many more buildings. Most were built in the 1880s (but some as old as the 1840s). The highlight is the star-shaped brick and earthworks fortress itself beyond the moat, and the beautifully-maintained federal-stye 1848 limestone barracks within.

Unfortunately for these buildings and the people trying to restore them, Fort Wayne sits in the middle of one of the most downtrodden and depressing neighborhoods in this city full of downtrodden and depressing neighborhoods (note: I like Delray; a lot people don't). If it had been located east of downtown, I have no doubt it would be better funded and well-visited by tourists. It's really that cool. Sadly, it's situated along the river in Delray, between the Ambassador Bridge and the proposed site of a new truck bridge to Canada, surrounded by abandoned industrial buildings, chemical plants, the city's sewage treatment facilities, and the pollution billowing Mordor-like landscape that stretches from Zug Island to the Ford River Rouge plant. Looking around at all the abandonment, it seems almost perverse that a fort was built here to offer protection against feared Canadian belligerence. Today one must wonder what this fort was meant to protect.

Although the fort is very historical, its decline was hastened by the fact that there wasn't much history-book material made there. Built in 1843 to defend against attacks from Canada that never came, the star-shaped fortifications were strengthened during the Civil War (though no shots were ever fired from its walls). It was used as a garrison post, a supply depot, and housing for depression-era homeless. My father went there in one if its last years of military operation for his entrance and examination physical during the Vietnam draft. Without a military presence, the fort has become a dedicated community space. Today it's used for reenactments, youth soccer games, flea markets, and boy scout events.

The grounds are great for picnics. You can rent them out for wedding receptions or family reunions. There are frequent "ghost hunts" with a local paranormal society. The grounds also boast a museum for the Tuskegee Airmen, an Indian burial mound, and the Great Lakes Indian Museum (it should be noted that the area's Native American history is largely ignored in the suburban Fauxtopias I wrote about here). There's also a secret collection of displaced statuary and architectural elements from historic buildings that have been torn down in Detroit over the years, including the old city hall statues.

Though both are walled off from the rest of the region, Fort Wayne is everything that Greenfield Village isn't: it was built for an actual historic purpose, organically designed and developed, and completely authentic (if somewhat lacking in specific historical significance). Its buildings were built on this spot and are stuck there for better (or probably) worse. Unlike Greenfield Village, it has no paid curators or preservation workers (relying instead on volunteers). Its frequent reenactments are all staffed by volunteers as well. It is visited by a few thousand people every year rather than the 1.5+ million who visit the Henry Ford/Greenfield Village. It doesn't have an entrance fee. And despite the valiant efforts of its volunteer caretakers, much of it is still falling apart.

This is Detroiters doing history right. I look forward to seeing what the Coalition does in the future.

 
Previous Inspiration

 

This image is Copyrighted. No unauthorized reuse.

With all the Helvetica-drenched / minimalist vintage graphic design out there right now, sometimes you find yourself driving behind a giant shit tank thinking, "Gosh darn it, that's the most effective logo I've seen in years." I really love the fearful skunk's stink lines. People don't draw enough stink lines these days. Plus look how shocked he is when he sees your disgusting septic tank: and he's a skunk! Yikes! Better call Al Pearson & Son. They're not afraid of shit.

Also, I love that Al Pearson's son is involved in this company. That son has a lot of character, I think, following in his father's footsteps like that. Bravo, Al Pearson's son. Also, how cool is it that they got 1-800-SEPTIC TANK as their phone number (wait, isn't that two too many digits)? Anyway, if I ever start a business and need any graphic design work, I am totally bringing this picture to the nearest bespectacled hipster and saying, "Make it just like this."

Previous Inspiration
 

This blog is intended solely to share the things I come across that inspire me. If I have posted a copyrighted image, I have only done so to the extent necessary to comment upon or discuss it; I will always include a link to the original source of the image if that source is online or acknowledge the source if it is in print. If I have reproduced anything of yours here that is copyrighted and you want me to remove it, please do not hesitate to contact me and I will do so right away.

The incredibly colorful and vivid Faygo ghost sign above was recently uncovered on a Detroit liquor store after the neighboring building was demolished. Faygo is a soda product that has been produced in Detroit since 1907, when immigrants Ben and Perry Feigenson developed three soda flavors based on cake frosting recipes they brought over from Russia. The soda is still produced in the city at a factory built in 1935 a little more than a mile from this old sign. The bottling plant currently employs about 400 people. Faygo has always been known for its fruity soda flavors, especially red pop (strawberry). In the 1930s, Faygo began adding real orange juice to its orange flavored soda. I am going to guess (based on the font and what I was able to glean from old advertising) that this sign probably dates to the late 1930s or 1940s, before the Feigenson brothers handed over control of the company to their sons. According to legend, the company can be credited with the first use of the word "pop" to describe a soda product, as well as the invention of the twist-off cap. Today Faygo has the dubious distinction of being the official beverage of the Juggalo Nation.

When they clear the debris and remaining brick away, I'll bet that little orange down there is going to look great (it looked like one is halved). I'll try to get another picture of it before the graffiti assholes ruin this great piece of history. It was this little building that was demolished to reveal the sign after sitting vacant for as long as I've lived here, and probably much longer:

Behind that white brick wall were three ghost signs, two of which have not been completely revealed.

The second sign was for the Kowalski Sausage Company, which traces its roots to the smokehouse built in the back of Agnes and Zygmund Kowalski's grocery store on Chene Street in Detroit's old Poletown neighborhood. Today the sausages are still made in nearby Hamtramck, where the famous pierced hot dog neon sign lights up Holbrook at night, though sadly the company is considering moving from the location where it's been curing meat for 90 years to some dreary suburban industrial park. The last sign hasn't been completely revealed. All we see is the word "Ray's."

This is my third post about ghost signs here in Detroit (the second was discussed in the New York Times a few weeks ago), and in that one I said it was "one of the strange pleasures of a city where demolition is so rampant and necessary: sometimes secrets of history reveal themselves." Now I am thinking about all the ghost signs hiding behind brick walls in other (functioning) cities that may never be revealed, some of them with colors like this one. That's kind of a wonderful thought too.

Previous Inspiration
 

This blog is intended solely to share the things I come across that inspire me. If I have posted a copyrighted image, I have only done so to the extent necessary to comment upon or discuss it; I will always include a link to the original source of the image if that source is online or acknowledge the source if it is in print. If I have reproduced anything of yours here that is copyrighted and you want me to remove it, please do not hesitate to contact me and I will do so right away.

I've really been enjoying the wonderful new album by Raleigh's Bowerbirds (The Clearing, released March 5). On their last two albums there was a song that really jumped out at me from the middle of the pack as my favorite ("Olive Hearts" on 2007's Hymns for a Dark Horse and "Northern Lights" from 2009's Upper Air) but on this album it was the first song on the album: "Tuck the Darkness In." I love how it builds up to that wild ending. Listen to it loud (or with headphones); there's a really great official video for the song here:



The kids love it too. 

Previous Inspiration
 

This blog is intended solely to share the things I come across that inspire me. If I have posted a copyrighted image, I have only done so to the extent necessary to comment upon or discuss it; I will always include a link to the original source of the image if that source is online or acknowledge the source if it is in print. If I have reproduced anything of yours here that is copyrighted and you want me to remove it, please do not hesitate to contact me and I will do so right away.

Some really cool people recently opened a letterpress studio in Eastern Market called Signal Return. My wife and a few of her friends thought it would be fun to have a Valentine-card workshop there and Megan (the talented proprietress) was gracious enough to indulge, setting up a wonderful selection of materials and tools (including custom stamps) for our kids make some truly unique valentine's cards. There were about a dozen kids stamping and cutting valentines surrounded by a whole lot of beautiful antique printing equipment. It was a wonderful night.

And then, when we walked out the door, this, across the street:

Previous Inspiration
 

This blog is intended solely to share the things I come across that inspire me. If I have posted a copyrighted image, I have only done so to the extent necessary to comment upon or discuss it; I will always include a link to the original source of the image if that source is online or acknowledge the source if it is in print. If I have reproduced anything of yours here that is copyrighted and you want me to remove it, please do not hesitate to contact me and I will do so right away.

My daughter asked about the ten commandments the other day and when I explained them to her she looked really confused. That (and the cite to the boy scout vesper in that New York Times article from last week) got me thinking about the oaths and creeds that used to be such a big part of guiding kids' lives. We're not a particularly religious household, so when I stumbled upon some of the codes from the old 1950s television cowboy shows and their related clubs, I had to smile. There's a lot of goodness here:

Hopalong Cassidy's Creed for American Boys and Girls

1. The highest badge of honor a person can wear is honesty. Be truthful at all times.
2. Your parents are the best friends you have. Listen to them and obey their instructions.
3. If you want to be respected, you must respect others. Show good manners in every way.
4. Only through hard work and study can you succeed. Don't be lazy.
5. Your good deeds always come to light. So don't boast or be a show-off.
6. If you waste time or money today, you will regret it tomorrow. Practice thrift in all ways.
7. Many animals are good and loyal companions. Be friendly and kind to them.
8. A strong, healthy body is a precious gift. Be neat and clean.
9. Our country's laws are made for your protection. Observe them carefully.
10. Children in many foreign lands are less fortunate than you. Be glad and proud you are an American

The Lone Ranger Creed

1. I believe that to have a friend, a man must be one.
2. That all men are created equal and that everyone has within himself the power to make this a better world.
3. That God put the firewood there, but that every man must gather and light it himself.
4. In being prepared physically, mentally, and morally to fight when necessary for that which is right.
5. That a man should make the most of what equipment he has.
6. That "this government, of the people, by the people, and for the people," shall live always.
7. That men should live by the rule of what is best for the greatest number.
8. That sooner or later...somewhere...somehow...we must settle with the world and make payment for what we have taken.
9. That all things change, but the truth, and the truth alone lives on forever.
10. I believe in my Creator, my country, my fellow man.

Roy Rogers Riders Club Rules

1. Be neat and clean.
2. Be courteous and polite.
3. Always obey your parents.
4. Protect the weak and help them.
5. Be brave, by never take chances.
6. Study hard, and learn all you can.
7. Be kind to animals and care for them.
8. Eat all your food and never waste any.
9. Love God and go to Sunday School regularly.
10. Always respect our flag and country. 

Buck Jones Cowboy Creed          

I must be courteous and obedient to my elders.
I must study and learn.
I must be courageous, honest, industrious, truthful and unselfish.
I must be a pal to my playmates and big brother (or big sister) to all boys or girls younger than myself.
I must keep my life bright and clean.

Previous Inspiration
 

This blog is intended solely to share the things I come across that inspire me. If I have posted a copyrighted image, I have only done so to the extent necessary to comment upon or discuss it; I will always include a link to the original source of the image if that source is online or acknowledge the source if it is in print. If I have reproduced anything of yours here that is copyrighted and you want me to remove it, please do not hesitate to contact me and I will do so right away.