In 1979 , with Time 's passport in hand , I witnessed the twilight of imperial Detroit : the cigar ash falling on the lapels of Henry Ford II 's double-breasted suit as he waited for his chef to finish cooking hamburger the way he liked it -- from ground filet mignon ; the GM holiday party where the prospects for the industry were judged by the height of the heaps of shrimp parcelled onto the party platters ; the Chrysler marketing vice-president who confided that he preset the radio of Lee Iacocca 's sedan to leave him with the illusion that the company 's radio commercials were blanketing the airwaves ; or the xenophobic foolishness of a wire service reporter who , at a press conference , taunted an executive from Volkswagen by announcing that he had participated in a second world war bombing raid over Wolfsburg , the company 's hometown .