





The former Durant Hotel is filling up faster than anticipated and its developer is eyeing other downtown buildings for future housing projects.Since reopening last fall following a nearly $30 million renovation, the Durant’s 93 apartments are already at 75 percent occupancy.
That’s ahead of schedule and vastly exceeded the expectations of Richard Karp, the Lansing-based developer behind the building’s overhaul.
“We didn’t expect to be this far until spring 2011,” he said. “We’re quite pleased with the robust activity.”
Jack Wolbert and Alejandra Arceo flew in from California to get married at the newly restored Durant last summer. (Photo courtesy of Ryan Garza/The Flint Journal)
Given Flint's lack of interest in historic preservation, it's hard to believe the Durant survived, especially when you watch these videos illustrating just how far it had deteriorated.
Let's close with a few shots of the Durant from the days when Flint kids attended etiquette lessons before dining at the hotel.
A recent episode of the Showtime cable TV show Shameless had a Flint reference. The show stars Willliam H. Macy as the drunken patriarch of a highly dysfunctional Chicago family. In the most recent episode, Macy’s character is kidnapped with good intentions by the boyfriend of one of his children. The boyfriend explains he wanted to get the abusive dad away from the family to help them out. So the boyfriend put the highly intoxicated dad in the trunk of his car with plans to dump him in some “weird” place in Michigan ... like "Flint." Instead he ends up smuggling him across the border and drops him in Toronto. Too bad he didn’t dump him in Flint then maybe they would have filmed in the Vehicle City for a couple days and helped out the local economy. Although I will say, Flint has been called much worse than “weird.
Bankruptcy could permit a state to alter its contractual promises to retirees, which are often protected by state constitutions, and it could provide an alternative to a no-strings bailout. Along with retirees, however, investors in a state’s bonds could suffer, possibly ending up at the back of the line as unsecured creditors.
“All of a sudden, there’s a whole new risk factor,” said Paul S. Maco, a partner at the firm Vinson & Elkins who was head of the Securities and Exchange Commission’s Office of Municipal Securities during the Clinton administration.
For now, the fear of destabilizing the municipal bond market with the words “state bankruptcy” has proponents in Congress going about their work on tiptoe. No draft bill is in circulation yet, and no member of Congress has come forward as a sponsor, although Senator John Cornyn, a Texas Republican, asked the Federal Reserve chairman, Ben S. Bernanke, about the possibility in a hearing this month.
It grew out of the gatherings that Don and Jackie Bowles hosted in the basement of their home where their son, Paul, and his friends gathered to play guitar and sing. When attendance became too large for the basement, Jackie, with Don's support, rented the old building on Lewis St. and established a coffeehouse in 1965.
The name for the coffeehouse came from an incident at Paul's high school. Paul and his friends were constantly being harassed by school officials for their hair and dress. One day Jackie was called to school and found Paul in the counselor's office. In the course of the discussion that followed the counselor referred to Paul and his friends as nothing but a bunch of "no good, long-haired, guitar-playing, coffee-sipping lizards." And the "Sippin' Lizzard" was born.The building that housed the Sippin' Lizzard was rented by Don and Jackie Bowles in 1965 because it was the only one they could afford at the time. It proved to be an adequate location despite some business women who practiced their profession in the apartments upstairs and an unsecured basement door which allowed the cellar to serve as a restroom for "street people". The building was demolished a few years ago.At this location, folk music fans heard Joni Mitchell as she began her career, as well as Cedric Smith, Phil Marcus Esser and others while sitting on the floor and drinking coffee.
Here’s what I’ve been able to piece together, both from my memories of it, as well as from various email exchanges and conversations I’ve had people who were there. The idea was to release a greased pig onto the field during the Central band’s halftime performance. Of course there could be no expectation that the pig would go anywhere near the band, but the caper succeeded beyond the perpetrators’ wildest imagination.
During the week before the game, the main perps, seniors Ray Giguere, Larry Moyle and Frank Morse took up a collection among a number of Northern students for the caper. The morning of the game the perps went out into the country northeast of Flint to buy a young pig from a farmer for $27.
They brought the pig to Ray Giguere’s garage and began to prepare the pig for its performance with a festoon of red and black ribbons around the pig’s neck, which happened to be Central’s colors. While the perps were quietly at work in the garage, Ray’s dad became suspicious and came out to investigate and he startled the boys by bursting in the garage. After the boys explained what they were up to, Ray’s dad made some very helpful suggestions and actually fashioned a sort of harness to ensure that the ribbons and bows showed up to their best advantage.
Click to Enlarge
Just before game time Larry Moyle, a member of the band, persuaded Phil Fox to smuggle the pig into the stadium in his sousaphone case, where the pig peacefully spent the first half of the game.
Then at halftime Larry released the pig. The pig, anxious to escape its confines, at first ran down the sideline, but soon found its way onto the field. Hard as it is to believe from the perspective of 2009, the Central band was formed up in the shape of a cross, and was playing “Faith of Our Fathers.” The pig proceeded to run to and fro throughout the band formation, and the people in the stands, rather than listening reverently, were in an uproar and began chanting “Go pig go!”
Al Walters, Northern’s band director, reports that he didn’t quite comprehend what was going on at the time. “I was wondering why the Central cheerleaders would pick that moment to release a pig.” “After all,” he said somewhat defensively, “it did have Central’s colors draped around its neck, and I couldn’t figure out why they would want to disturb the solemnity of their band’s presentation.” In the aftermath the next week, however, Guy Houston, Northern’s Principal, called Mr. Walters on the carpet and only then did he begin to realize that members of his own band might have been involved.
At band practice that day, Mr. Walters simply announced that there were rumors that some of the band members might have participated in the prank, and if so, the decent thing to do would be to write a letter of apology. Later that week a letter was delivered to Bruce Robart, Central’s band director. Mr. Robart, by the way, was not known for his sense of humor. In fact, a Central band member reports that the letter made no difference, and that Mr. Robart was in a foul mood for quite awhile thereafter.
Alas, nobody seems to remember what happened to the pig. It was last seen on the field being pursued by field security personnel, who finally chased it out of one of the back doors of the stadium that faced the river. Ray somehow reclaimed the pig and later that day returned it to the farmer, but let him keep the $27 for his trouble. Perhaps that pig eventually graced some family’s dinner table. If so, little did that family know what a notorious animal they were about to feast on that day.
From the late 50's through the mid-seventies, Reynolds Buick-GMC of West Covina, CA was literally the "Fastest Buick Dealer on Earth."
In the early postwar years in Southern California, the drag strip was the place to be. Young men with octane in their veins broke away from their weekday jobs to race on the weekends.
As it happened, a chance conversation with a Buick Factory Representative inspired what ultimately became a very successful partnership between Buick dealer Pete Reynolds, engine builder James Bell, and legendary racing driver Lennie "Pop" Kennedy, Together, and with the cooperation of the factory, they created a series of Buick drag racing cars that won many races, set records, and not only became part of the racing lore of Southern California, but also helped Buick to create some of its finest cars of all time.
Renovations have been moving along quickly at Cork on Saginaw, and the owners are ready to hire.
A new bistro and wine bar is just about ready to pop the cork in downtown Flint. Marge Murphy is the owner and chef. "I'm very excited, and all I want to do is get in that kitchen and cook."
Cork on Saginaw expects to open its doors at 635 South Saginaw Street by the end of this month. Right now, applications are being accepted on the restaurant's Facebook page for 12 jobs.
It’s a shame that incomes and property values have fallen so much that we can’t meet our promises to retirees. Add the demographic shift, and the situation stinks!
On a local level, Flint City Council recently rolled the defined contribution plan into the defined benefit plan. The argument from Council was this action would save the General Fund $4m this year because the defined benefit plan was dangerously underfunded. All this was on the third add-on resolution, i.e. a resolution not on the official agenda, at the 11/8/2010 meeting.
What I don’t know is whether the city simply pooled the money together in an accounting arrangement or whether the city functionally eliminated the defined contribution plan. Does anyone know more of the details?
The city of Flint faces a looming public employee pension crisis — a totally separate issue from the ongoing budget battle with police and firefighters — and it's not alone.
Michael Powell of The New York Times reports:
Across the nation, a rising irritation with public employee unions is palpable, as a wounded economy has blown gaping holes in state, city and town budgets, and revealed that some public pension funds dangle perilously close to bankruptcy. In California, New York, Michigan and New Jersey, states where public unions wield much power and the culture historically tends to be pro-labor, even longtime liberal political leaders have demanded concessions — wage freezes, benefit cuts and tougher work rules.
It is an angry conversation. Union chiefs, who sometimes persuaded members to take pension sweeteners in lieu of raises, are loath to surrender ground. Taxpayers are split between those who want cuts and those who hope that rising tax receipts might bring easier choices.
And a growing cadre of political leaders and municipal finance experts argue that much of the edifice of municipal and state finance is jury-rigged and, without new revenue, perhaps unsustainable. Too many political leaders, they argue, acted too irresponsibly, failing to either raise taxes or cut spending.