Wow, Mike, you read my mind. On the east side of Detroit, many Belgians settled there in the 20's and 30's, including my parents and grandparents.
Racing pigeons were everywhere and each garage had a "pigeon coop" over it. They would take the pigeons as far away as Indianapolis (from Detroit). Sunday's were spent watching the skies for our birds to come home. We would "clock" them, registering the band on their leg on the "time clock", then report to the Cadieux Cafe to find out who won. Lots of money was involved in the betting on these birds.
You're right - Sunday night dinner was usually the "losers"...my sister and I were told it was chicken. When we finally ate chicken at age 15 or so, we were amazed that there was actually white meat!
I still have my father and grandfather's pigeon racing trophies on a shelf - my friends think I'm nuts until I explain the meaning of those trophies.
To the Original Poster: I have a soft spot in my heart for pigeons - they get a bad rap in cities all over the world. I consider them some of my very first pets! Life is all about what you learn as a child!
I doubt that a "Save the Pigeons" march would garner much of a crowd.