Flint Photos: The Golden Leaf

The legendary Golden Leaf on a recent Wednesday night. Thanks to author Connor Coyne for the photo. For a little background on the club, go here.

Flint in the Fifties

Ben Hamper and Take No Prisoners

Ben Hamper defined the humor and heartache of life on the line in Flint in the pages of his bestselling book Rivethead: Tales of the Assembly Line. But he also was instrumental in establishing Flint's punk scene in the eighties via his dramatically unrehearsed radio show Take No Prisoners. It offered a lifeline to Flint kids who did not share the local populace's love of Billy Joel and Foreigner. Chris Kissel and Chuck Armstrong chronicle it all on their podcast, Pressed in America. Listen here. You'll be glad you did.

Rand Simberg: From Flint To Outer Space

Flint Expatriate Rand Simberg has a new book out on exploring the frontiers of space called Safe Is Not an Option. Here's how he made it from the Vehicle City to the frontiers of space exploration:

I was born and raised in Flint (my mother was born in northern Michigan, but grew up in Flint), a son of a GM executive originally from Brooklyn (first at AC, then at headquarters in Detroit). I went to Flint Central, and then (after a couple years at Mott) to Ann Arbor and got degrees in astronautical engineering. Upon graduation, I moved out to southern California to work in the space industry. I've been an independent consultant and entrepreneur for the past couple decades.
I wrote the book because I've been concerned for years that our approach to safety in human spaceflight is needlessly holding us back from opening up the high frontier. It started at a Kickstarter project to just write a long essay on the subject, but it eventually grew into a book. I'll be trying to raise money to get it on the desk of every key policy maker in Washington.

Flint Photos: Buick Plant Security in the Fifties

Flint Photos: Living the Dream in Flint, Michigan

Flint Postcards: The Future of Flint

A 1920 postcard presenting a futuristic 1925 vision of Flint, Michigan, with a population of 200,000, a Manhattan-like skyline, blimps galore, and floating ships with sails and oars.

Flint Artifacts: Dawn Donuts Mug

Flint Photos: Milner Arcade

Thomas Wirt (a.k.a. Jar With Most) is a photographer who captured the essence of Flint starting way back in the seventies. Here's a 1977 view of the corner of South Saginaw and First Street from the parking structure of Genesee Towers. Smith-Bridgman's looms in the background to the right, behind a wall of bricks. The Book Stall is visible in the lower right corner. For more of Wirt's photos, go here.

A close-up of Milner Arcade by photographer Gordon LaVere shortly before demolition.

A collection of Model B Buicks when in front of Milner Arcade in 1904, before it got a faux Tudor facelift, when Billy Durant took over the company. (Photo via Kevin Kirbitz)

The first Flint Buick returns to Vehicle City on July 12, 1904, after a test drive to Detroit with engineer Walter Marr (left) and Tom Buick, son of founder David Buick, behind the wheel. Milner Arcade, a few schoolboys, and the horse and buggy the Buick would replace are in the background. (Photo via Kevin Kirbitz)

Before you enjoy the warm, nostalgic glow too much, remember that this is Flint, and parking lots must be created. (Photo by Kevin Kirbitz)

Smith-Bridgman's and Milner Arcade face the wrecking ball. The Mott Foundation Building survives. (Photo by Kevin Kirbitz)

 

A more recent photo of South Saginaw near First Street, with the ghostly, enshrouded statue of G.M. founder Billy Durant awaiting its unveiling. And, of course, a parking lot in the background. (Photo via @RebeccaFedewa)

The statue of David Buick at its unveiling in front of the parking lot once home to Smith-Bridgman's and Milner Arcade. The recently demolished Genesee Towers is visible in the top right corner. 

A comment from GaryG offers some perspective on the fate of the buildings that once defined South Saginaw Street near First Street in Flint:

I’ll not forget the day these demolition photographs were taken. I was driving down Court street early that Sunday morning, glanced north, and noticed the crane in the middle of Saginaw street. It could mean only one thing; after starting from the river and tearing down everything in sight between Saginaw and Harrison streets for the proposed Water Street Pavilion and its giant surface parking lot, the demolition crew had finally gotten to the Smith-Bridgman building.

There was a group of preservationists, of which I was one, that had been trying hard to save the historic facades on this block. I had advocated for a modified version of a scheme used in other cities, where the building faces were kept, while new structures were constructed behind them. In this case, the plan would be to salvage the front thirty or so feet of all of the buildings on this block, essentially converting them into shallow lease spaces, similar in depth to the Milner Arcade building, which would also be saved. But it was just one of many creative ideas rejected by the powers that were, even though they would have still gotten their parking lot.

Few people seemed to know how magnificent the original front elevation of the Smith-Bridgeman building, in particular, had been, since acres of teal colored sheet metal had been placed over it decades before. It made sense that the contractors were demolishing the façade first, early on a Sunday morning, so as to reduce the chance that too many people might discover what they were losing. I turned and drove up to the site in time to find that the metal had been stripped away to indeed reveal what I had longed to save: the original, finely proportioned, cut stone and brick façade, none the worse for wear, with every wood framed plate glass window intact, each still complete with their wooden venetian blinds. I was struck by how pleasingly gracious and beautiful it was, a symbol of a more discerning time.

The shadows are a testament that it was late in the day when these pictures were taken; only hours after Flint’s finest architectural facade poignantly succumbed to yet another case of unmitigated short-sightedness. 

Calling All Clueless Speculators

This is how the housing speculators help destroy Flint. Check out this property listing on eBay for 2322 Delmar Avenue in Civic Park, not far from Haskell Community Center. I spent a lot of time on this street as a kid and more recently while house hunting and writing Teardown: Memoir of a Vanishing City. The New York owner describes it as a “great investment property!” It’s not. Delmar is one of the most abandoned and desolate streets in Civic Park these days. The setting is described as “suburban.” Also not true. The Zillow estimate is a testament to the flaws of online housing valuations and deceptive advertising: $40,000. Not even close. The condition: “Needs some repair.” That’s technically accurate but doesn’t reveal that the house has probably been stripped clean by scrappers. Some clueless “investor” looking to make a quick buck could buy this house without knowing just how troubled the neighborhood really is right now. Then walk away from it down the line. The county will be left to deal with it at taxpayer expense.

UPDATE: Here's the response I got from anwarproperties regarding this property:

"Thank you for your interest in the property. Please do not mind the wordings of my answer, these are investment properties which are going to sell in few hundred $, so this is buyer's responsibility to complete all due diligence needed to determine the condition or taxes. We are buying in bulk 15-20 properties and selling as is, and giving the information we have got from our selling investors or banks because we never visited these properties.

"I never been there, these investment properties are available for a limited time. As soon the economy in that area will get better who will sell these houses in these prices?. So the wise are collecting these lottery tickets now."

Great to know that Flint houses are nothing more than lottery tickets to these speculators, something to just throw away if they don't get lucky.