I married into Detroit. On my first tour of downtown, it seemed like tumbleweed took over downtown around 9pm. Then the pizza $ seemed to infuse downtown with some kind of life. The rest is very public history. And LeDuff attacks it, both large and small, in his account of returning to the city to work as a journalist for the Detroit News. Once you get past the tentatively offered thesis (as Detroit goes, so goes the country – debatable, but certainly not demonstrated here) and get into LeDuff’s stories (including that of his own history – recent and long past – with the city), the power of the story emerges. And the story is itself a good reminder of why we still need LeDuff’s brand of journalism, written by people unafraid to get into the mix. If some of the details of his stories get a little muddled, don’t stress it. Focus on the forest. The Devil (‘s Night) here is in details like a stolen screen door. LeDuff tells stories here that need telling. Will Detroit come out the other side of all of this? There are some glimmers of hope (both here and in my own personal experience). I certainly hope so.