America on the road to perdition

James Doran drives from Wall Street to Detroit to discover how the American Dream turned into a nightmare

Inside the stadium, more than 100,000 diehard fans cheer on the Wolverines, assisted by a huge brass band and legions of cheerleaders. Many of the supporters are students who, in this economic wasteland, are a little more pessimistic than their classmates down the road at Penn State. Sharthe Vanayagam, 19, is worried about the economy: ‘Things are in a real mess. I am hoping there are jobs when we get out of school.’ His friends Eddie Zinger, 19, and Christian Henes, 18, agree.

We stay the night in the nearby town of Chelsea, stopping for a while at Mule Skinners, the local boot store run by Bill and Pam Conn. Their shop is an Aladdin’s Cave of Western wear and, as Bill proudly states, ‘historically correct cowboy holsters and quality concealment garments’. For concealing your gun, that is.

‘We used to sell a lot of work boots to the men around here,’ says Pam. ‘But not any more. We were very lucky though – they all came here and bought their last pairs of boots before they left town to go work somewhere else.’ Bill, who makes many of the intricately-tooled leather goods on offer, is passionate about his business but realistic about prospects for the Detroit area. ‘I’d move away from here if I could sell the house,’ he says. ‘Detroit is no place to go visit. It’s not safe these days.’

After an hour of friendly chat about the local and national economy, he takes me to one side and offers me two gifts. The first is a beautifully crafted western riding crop of braided saddle-leather he made while we were talking. The second is a large, black flick knife. ‘Don’t get out of your car in Detroit without this,’ he says. ‘You’ll see.’ Some 35 miles away in downtown Detroit and we began to think Bill might have been right.