(gentle music) So actually, my mother and my father came to Detroit from two different places in the '50.

My father lived in Huntsville, Alabama, and came to Detroit to work for Ford.

Actually, he responded to the call.

He started out in Highland Park, and then he moved to the Rouge plant eventually, so he worked there for his entire career.

My mother came from Fairfax, Virginia to Detroit to go to Wayne State, she wanted to study medicine.

Ended up having six kids, and the rest is history.

Ford was opportunity, just as you look at this beautiful place today.

So, he and his brother came up to Detroit.

He landed at Ford, his brother landed at Chrysler.

Detroit in the '50s and the '60s, when you really think about it, was an expansive period of time, particularly for African-Americans.

And so, both parents, as they connected, their life just really just rose very quickly to the middle class.

They brought a house not too far from this train station.

As the family grew, we moved to, what we considered a very robust middle-income community, LaSalle and Linwood.

And there, we started out.

I recall back in 1967, I guess it was, when the riots broke out.

We went to church on 12th Street.

We got a call that morning saying, don't come to church because 12th Street was on fire.

So, that was an important sort of benchmark in the history, my history.

I remember one of my best friends, his name was Michael.

He was a little white guy, I was, you know, African-American.

And we used to play, we didn't know about race, we didn't know about any of that, how our differences were.

And then one day, he just disappeared.

And I didn't understand why, but he moved out of the city.

His family quickly rushed out after 1967, and left us in Detroit.

And it was really fear on both parts.

But we, as 8-year-old kids, I mean, it didn't matter what your skin color was.

(gentle music continues)