Growing up downriver from Detroit the river was a constant. Many associations but the first story that comes to mind was that we skated and played pond hockey on an inlet in the river at Wyandotte. Old timers told us the river used to freeze to the point that you could walk to Windsor. Others said no, didn’t happen.

My Dad fished in the river with his buddies but always on the Canadian side as, he said, the U.S. side was too polluted (It still is.) They celebrated the catch, or bemoaned the lack of, at Duffy’s Tavern in Amherstburg across from Bois Blanc Island.