I worked downtown. On Monday, the office was closed. On Tuesday, the office opened and I had to go in. The Express bus wasn't running. It was just me and the driver on the Joy Road bus, threading through the streets going around W. Grand Blvd at Grand River, where we saw the tanks sitting, and the National Guard soldiers standing at ready. I don't know about the driver, but I definitely had a very sensitive feeling between my shoulder blades as I thought about the reports of snipers in that area. The air was thick with the smell of burning. I can still conjure that smell to this day. Gaping storefronts were everywhere up and down Grand River.

When I got to work, it was a skeleton staff, and me, Junior, the student intern. We spent a bit of time discussing where we were, what we thought, and what we saw. One woman was living at Wayne State, and reported lying on her floor watching tracers going past in the night sky. Stores everywhere were closed, and gas stations. In those days, you had to go to a grocery store to get milk for the baby, and at Wayne State, apparently you couldn't get any because the only store, on the corner of Second and Prentiss, was closed. The woman told of Leni Sinclair standing outside shouting to get into the store because she needed milk for the baby. I hope someone gave her some milk