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"No one ever liked working on an assembly line", Tarik Abdul-Aziz thought to himself as he assembled yet another pick-up truck. Driving his car, which he received for free after his fifth year on the job at Ford, he knew that he would not be the most popular man at the factory when he received a memo from the Dearborn HQ for increasing reports of malfunctioning cars, which could be traced to faulty engine installation.at a factory in Flint- the same one that the lion worked at for twelve years, and later supervised for three years.

After twelve years, he knew how boring and monotonous this work was, and even though he was now removed from the assembly line, he was still strict in regards to quality control and keeping his workers awake. Like a commanding officer in the military, Abdul-Aziz punished laziness and complacency, not hesitant to fire the careless worker but rewarded the hard work of the assemblers by supporting them. Also like a commanding officer, he had developed almost a fraternal bond with many of the dozens of workers, some of them impoverished, buying them food on days when they did not know when food would come. The best worker would get tickets to see the Red Wings or Pistons play as a reward.

It was with a heavy heart that he read his instructions which he had to carry out- "It has come to our attention that some Lincoln Navigators, and F-150s created at the factory in Flint were defective, with problems coming from the engine being mis-installed. Contact the employees in charge of engine installation." That memo was given to him by the owner of the Flint plant, who had deputized the firing of workers to Abdul-Aziz. This was his least favorite part of the job because he knew that no one wanted to work at the assembly line but were dragged there by desperation in search of a job. "Contact" usually meant fire and he felt every time that God saw him fire a hard-working employee who simply made a few too many mistakes, that would be counted against him at the Final Judgement. Another factory worker would be thrown back into the urban blight and crime of Detroit to become another victim of the dysfunctional city. Employment at a car factory was the only thing some of these men could hope for and that employment was their salvation from broken homes.

Ford had recruited Abdul-Aziz almost right off the boat from Lebanon when he arrived in New York, luring him with an offer of a steady job if he would move to Michigan, which had a sizable Muslim population. He would feel right at home, they said if he would only offer hard work. But the sunshine-filled descriptions of a job in manufacturing automobiles failed to mention how boring an 8-hour workday of doing the same job ad nauseum would be. He felt upset that now at the age of 38, he would never be able to afford college for his son Shaadi, even though he held an MBA from the American University in Beirut.

He would never fulfill hajj, the requirement of every true Muslim without endangering the financial situation of his wife Fatima and Shaadi. Everyday, he would receive letters from Lebanon, asking for his return to the sunlit shores of his homeland rather than cold Detroit. Tempting though they were, Abdul-Aziz would stay in Michigan building cars, living in Flint's economically-disadvantaged Muslim enclave. With Syria's involvement in his country and the political intrigue surrounding the death of former PM Rafik Hariri a few years ago, he could not go back.

The lion could still remember the days following September 11th when the mosque in that enclave had its windows smashed and narrowly survived an arson attempt. Ford spent $500,000 to restore the mosque where their employees would worship- they gave the workers breaks so they could pray five times a day. The vandalism of the mosque came as a powerful reminder that many would question the patriotism of Abdul-Aziz and his fellow Muslims even though they loved America unquestionably.

As he walked across the factory floor shortly after closing, employees cowered away from him. He saw Hassan, a lion and devout Muslim as Tarik was, noticeably upset. He had just been fired before Tarik could get there and he would never see Tarik or any of his fellow workers again. His six months on the job burnt Hassan out and he would have little money to support his ailing father now. In the end, all Tarik could do was write him a check for $1,000 in addition to a severance package and say goodbye. He was not a bad employee- those were seldom seen at the factory. Hassan was simply a bored, tired employee suffering from terminal exhaustion.

Hassan's hard work inspired Tarik of a wolf employee he had known once named David Essenza, who had died that past winter after a years-long bout with prostate cancer. He and Maria, were the kindest couple he had ever met- David had been working for a decade when Tarik entered the assembly line. He had attended the funeral as did many at the factory. His thoughts now turned to Justin Essenza, David's son who he hoped would somehow manage to escape the blight of Detroit and go on to greater things with a college education.

When finally he arrived home at his Flint home, Fatima and Shaadi were ready for him and he had to wear the mask of someone content with their job even though he was burnt out, just as Hassan was. As he fell asleep that night, he thought of Fatima's homeland and his own- beautiful, warm, sunlit Lebanon, a far cry from the cold Detroit with its snow and inclement weather. He would often dream of the architecture of this very western city, meals of lamb roast and Ksara, the expensive and sweet Lebanese wine, the cedars of the country which were used by King Solomon when he millenia ago built the Jerusalem temple.

No matter the convoluted and bloody history of the people and the intent of the government, Lebanon was a home for Christians of all denominations, Muslims both Sunni and Shi'a, Jews, and Druzes (a sect of Islam with its own Scriptures). He could still remember when the U.S. and French barracks were bombed by extremists- the loss of life and the subsequent deaths of innocent Lebanese Jews and Christians showed the 13-year-old lion cub that terrorism would accomplish nothing. For eighteen months, he worked with a construction company, which helped rebuild Beirut but he left for the U.S. in 1992 for more money. He had planned to go back in 2005 but the cold war in Lebanon with Syria and his promotion from worker to supervisor prevented Tarik from returning.

Yes, though he entertained hopes of returning to Lebanon maybe someday, on an extended vacation, he thought. But for now, Tarik's future was in Michigan.