I was 8 years of age and on vacation with my parents in southern Illinois, my uncle came in to my grandmothers house and told my mom there was a "race riot" going on in detroit. I was thinking "Race cars" and wondering what he was talking about but then my mom started crying and dad started packing up then I knew something bad was happening. We arrived back in Detroit tuesday. I remember a lot about the riot, helicopters, tanks, my dad saying the 101st airborne on the ground in Detroit but my most vivid memory was looking out the front and back upstairs windows and seeing the skies glowing orange. Detroit was burning and I scared to death.