Before Detroit became an automotive giant, Motown’s capital, or a manufacturing epicenter, it was simply a dusty frontier settlement built atop ash and ambition.
Standing at the edge of this transformation was Solomon Sibley – a man who preferred the pen to the pistol but whose resolve was as strong as iron.
In the lawless ruins of revolution and fire, when Detroit resembled a skeleton trying to stand on its own two legs, Sibley gave it a spine.


