Summary
I took a drive last week to say goodbye to an old friend. I came off the highway, turned down a familiar street and there she was, right in front of me.
She did not look good. She was pale and broken down. Even the work she'd had done a few years ago now had decayed. She was spilling out, peeling, her fabrics were torn, and she looked none too steady on her feet. The summer sky was gray and she seemed to have a cloud affixed permanently over her head - along with cranes, tractors and trucks by her sides.See the full content of this document
Extract
Game's Really Over for Historic Ballpark
There was a small hole in her body. But she will break and crumble much more in the weeks to come. She was born in 1912. Death is inevitable now.
Her name is Tiger Stadium.They are knockin...See the full content of this document
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