I knew Flint had its frustrations with imported cars before I moved here. People feel entitled to place at least a little of the blame for their misfortunes on Japanese or European cars, which is fair. I'm not sure how much of GM's decision to screw Flint was based on pressures from the foreign auto market, but I can't imagine it was very prominent. You know the saying. "A corporation's gotta do what a corporation's gotta do."
Roberta was the first person who commented on the fact that I drive a Subaru. I was surprised it took a month and a half for someone to call me out on it, and it makes sense that Roberta would get the privilege. This picture is of her refrigerator, or at least the small portion that was blessed with afternoon light when I visited. When she was a girl growing up in New York, her dreams were in Flint at the Buick plant. Literally.
I wasn't embarrassed by my car when she brought it up as I was leaving. I mentioned that its the unofficial official car of Missoula, Montana. She got where I was coming from, but the conversation was tinged with the pain of someone who lost a loved one awhile ago. You never really get over it.
Especially when there's a Subaru in the driveway.