The next morning there was no sign of Mario and his men. They were around someplace probably trying to come up with their own hunches. Or, they were watching to see what we would do, but we had no control over that. After they had gone that night, Emil spread the word around the town that it would be to everyone's advantage not to help them. It wouldn't be long before Mario would become a pariah in Fordlandia.

Meanwhile, it was time for us to get started on our search. We began by taking a walk around the town. We had seen a lot of pictures of it online from its heyday. The difference was stark. We saw the remains of the paved roads, the picket fences, and the fire hydrants—middle America plunked into the center of the Amazon. How could anyone really think that just by making things look familiar to the American workers, it would appease them? And the total disregard for the lifestyle and culture of the locals was arrogance at its worst.

It was easy to understand Emil's advice to his friends that the town couldn't be restored or turned into a resort. Simply stated, it was just a crumbling factory town alongside a river. Other than its unique history, what possible draw could it have? The millions of dollars that would have to be poured into the town just to bring it to the point of preparation for a resort would be a complete waste. If they were restoring it to what Fordlandia once looked like, what would be the sense in that? You could find the same sights walking down the main street in a small town in Ohio.

No, the town had long since died. Everything was overgrown. Windows in the abandoned buildings were gone. The houses still standing all had sagging roofs, and in many cases the whole house had collapsed.

There were exceptions. The houses the squatters had taken over were in relatively decent shape, ranging from the just barely livable to a few places like Emil's—fixed up with care.

As Emil led us around, Sabrina was reveling in the experience. Her eyes were bright and almost dancing as she took notes and pictures. I could see a book coming out of this. She was in heaven. She was getting to experience the adventure and excitement that she wrote about in her books. For Sabrina, this was living. I, on the other hand, hadn't yet decided exactly what it was.

The morning was sunny and warm, more like an early summer's day in New England than a day in the tropics. Hmm, maybe Henry Ford was onto something. A day like this one could feel like home. It almost made us forget the danger we faced. Almost.

"I want you to meet someone," announced Emil as we approached one of the larger houses. It was midway between fixed up and falling down. Dozens of chickens roamed the yard. There was no doubt that the egg supply for the town originated there.