Detroit Art and a Man's Character

The Man In The Bright Red Chair Back in the 1960s, a man I know came upon an old, red chair, which had been discarded behind a corner neighborhood bar. Always seeing the good in things, he took the old, weak, wooden chair home and began to repair it. He sanded it down, tightened it up, and even gave it a brand new bright red coat of paint. He proudly placed this chair on his front porch for all to see. Neighbors and friends stopped by and stood next to the porch to admire the new chair. Sometimes, they would be invited up to sit in the chair, and join the man for a cup of coffee and conversation. They would talk about the chair, how their day went, and about their families. Over the years, many things were witnessed by that old, red chair. One day, a little boy about five years old, ran out into the street chasing an ice cream truck. He was hit and nearly killed by a car, as was his brother, who was trying to prevent the accident. The two boys were very lucky to survive and the chair knew that someone had been watching over them that day. As time went on, and the years passed, many people came to sit in that old, red chair. Through cold winters it would stand, waiting strong and sturdy for the signs of spring, when someone would sit in it again. It was there when the mans family and friends would stop by on Sundays after church. The man and the red chair sat solemnly on the porch, as one of the sons left for Vietnam. Years later, they would watch again, as another son left for the Air Force. Sometimes, you would see the man in the chair, watching as his children brought home someone special, hoping and praying that they were making the right choices in their lives. The old, red chair was there to lean on when the children came home to be consoled, or to ask for advice. It was there to watch the grandchildren as they ran and played in the yard. Many times it witnessed the family dog, as he would somehow manage to sneak out of the yard to go for a walk on his own. When the dog finally returned, he would look up to see the chair and know that he was home. Years later, the chair would travel back and forth to North Carolina twice before finally ending up in storage. The chair had once again become weak and wobbly, just as when the man first found it. Sadly, the man who had been through many things in his life, had became weak and wobbly as well. Now age has caught up with him and he is not quite as strong and sturdy as he once was. The man now sits in a different chair, one with wheels in a nursing home. Still, he greets everyone that comes by. The chair sat alone for some time in storage, as it waited to be found. Years had passed when a friend rediscovered the mans chair and began restoring it once again. The man and his young daughter, worked many hours sanding, tightening, and giving it a fresh coat of bright, red paint. That Christmas, the friend gave the chair to the mans son. To the sons surprise, it