“The bums will pick it up.”  

I’ve been fuming about this since December, when a playoff-crazed Lions tailgater chose those words to explain why his family was leaving their trash on a grassy strip of public property close to my home.  

My wife and I live on the edge of downtown, less than a mile from Ford Field. We first moved to Detroit in 2006, leaving twice for career opportunities, but always coming back, and always living in the vicinity of downtown.

We love the easy access to concerts, sports and events, and feel joyful about the bigger, steadier crowds of people who live, work and visit the core city. It’s just fun.  

Sometimes, when the Red Wings or Pistons are at home, I go for a run along Woodward just to immerse myself a little bit in the pregame excitement. I have, in particular, long enjoyed the loyalty and enthusiasm of you long-suffering Lions supporters, and am happy for you now, despite being a lifelong Chiefs fan.  

These crowds make great people watching, and it’s easy to get caught up in the spirit. 

As the new Lions season begins, I welcome tailgaters back to our neighborhood. I’m merely asking that you treat it as you would like your own neighborhood treated.

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The hard work of being poor

Living where I do, fans and concertgoers aren’t the only people I watch. I also see how difficult it is to be poor — much more work than simply picking up after yourself ― to wait for the bus in predawn cold or midsummer heat, to pull a little cart home from the grocery store over icy streets, to curl up on a corner of sidewalk to get some sleep.  

I don’t judge. My birth family was far from well off, and some of us, including me, have experienced the ravages of substance abuse. In the “bums” our Lions fan expects to clean up his mess, I see people still awaiting the unbidden grace that lifted me. 

When you are poor, for any reason, the heat is more oppressive, the cold is colder, the distance is farther.  

So when I see people trudging to work in the dark, I think about how much work it is to be poor, just as when I see folks schleping empty cans and bottles for return. And that does happen, so at one level, the tailgater was right – the bottle bill works as an incentive that cuts down on at least some kinds of litter.  

But that doesn’t make it right to leave a mess — which included this family’s paper plates and napkins — because you think Detroit is your garbage dump, or that the less fortunate should clean up after you.  

It may be that this Lions fan — I think this is common — doesn’t come into the city very often, and has an outdated conception. When I moved here in 2006, just after Super Bowl XL led to a hurried makeup job, litter was common. Streetlights were out. Bike riding was frustrating because of broken glass in the street.  

That’s changed for a variety of reasons, but it boils down to investment and sustained effort, along with a much-needed step-up in city services that made it possible for longtime residents to hold the line against disrepair.

No city is pristine, but significant parts of Detroit proper are undeniably neater than they were 20 years ago.  

That Detroit of two decades ago showed its poverty more sharply wasn’t an excuse to act like a pig back then, and it sure isn’t an excuse for littering now.

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Let’s not disrespect Detroit

I, perhaps unfairly, assume our littering Lion lives in some nondescript suburb that would barely exist were it not for the brawn and innovation of Detroit. It’s Dee-troit basketball, not Birmingham Hoops. He cheers for the Detroit Lions, not the Warren Kittens or the Southfield Whatevers, and no doubt takes pride in saying he is a Detroit Lions fan now that they are succeeding.  

So he and his family — he had elementary-school age children with him — would do well to be polite visitors. I merely ask that they pick up after themselves, and maybe not teach the next generation to disrespect Detroit.   

I’ll do the same if I ever have reason to park my vehicle on some suburban street, pitch a tent and have a little party.

Randy Essex is an editor at the Detroit Free Press. Submit a letter to the editor at freep.com/letters and we may publish it online and in print.