Monday 3 December 2012

Thoughts on How the Middle Class is Shut Out of Moving to Detroit

I know I've been quiet. You all probably thought we gave up or got fed up. Truth is that there has been a lot of activity. That I haven't posted about it is largely due to my loss of sense of humor about the less-than-satisfying developments. In the last months, we got ignored by the one and only lender that had been willing to talk to us; reassigned to two different loan officers; then, because of all the time that had passed, had re-submit all the paperwork and applications; only to spend $400 on and wait for weeks for a very disappointing appraisal. In the meantime, Chai and I started disagreeing about how to proceed, mostly due to our very different coping styles for and tolerance levels for stress. I'll spare you the blow-by-blow and let it suffice to say that we ended up in 5 weeks of couples' counseling and briefly diverted to a Plan B (cutting our losses and finding a different house to buy that doesn't have all the gotchas).

I've kept copious notes about the financing saga, which I hope to find time to write up in this blog. But since we are fresh off elections and still have politics in mind, I have a few thoughts about the obstacles that keep people like us from moving to Detroit. (And, by "people like us", I mean, middle class folks who work for a living and have good credit, some savings to put into a home, and a desire for meaningful community involvement that trumps the common sense motivation to pick a house based on its financial investment potential.)

Thursday 26 July 2012

One More Time, With Feeling

I came back from our June trip to Detroit pretty despondent. I practically refused to talk about the house with Chai. She was ready to plan out next steps and I couldn't see past the dollar signs blocking our path. Most of the time, I was so stressed about it that I felt like throwing up. Every time Chai would bring up the topic, I'd get defensive and pissy--mostly because it was hard for me to have any sort of back-and-forth when I didn't know myself where I stood anymore.

I mean, I still loved the city and I still loved the house. I couldn't see giving up on the prospect of a life there--especially considering that our West Village neighbors already felt even more like real neighbors than any place I had ever lived before. But the cost of the renovation was freaking me out. I couldn't see where the money was going to come from and what kind of long term impact that debt would have on our lives.

What would it mean for us if we didn't go? I mean, aside from the fact that we would let all of our new and old Michigan friends down. Aside from that we would have blown at least $35K in cash so far and would still be saddled with what would then be an albatross of a house. We'd still be stuck with the problem that we don't want the life we have in Colorado anymore and something has got to give.

Sunday 8 July 2012

HDC says, "Advance to 'Go'"

The post is part three to the "Shit's Gettin' Realz" series. To read part two, click here.

It's easy to come to Detroit, with so many of its architectural treasures decaying or torn down, and assume that the people there don't appreciate what they have. Or, perhaps, think, like so many European post-colonialists, that the natives are simply ill-suited to care for what they've inherited. Most cross-cultural stupidity comes down to an overblown sense of oneself and a lack of knowledge of the other.

I didn't know what to expect from the Historic District Commission. Many of our non-Detroit friends figured that Detroiters would be thrilled to have someone want to restore a historic home and that they would gratefully grant us free license to do what we wanted without quibbling about details. But, with that aforementioned sensitivity in mind, I thought that pretty unlikely. What I was concerned about, knowing the history of  corrupt power dynamics in Detroit politics and the dwindling resources in the city, was that anyone with any amount of authority would milk it for all it was worth.

Considering the direction the initial conversations were going with the HDC staff about our application, my concerns were not assuaged. Maybe the entry portal and balcony we proposed were historic but they weren't historically appropriate for our house. Sure, the windows needed replacing, but we would be expected to replace them with rebuilt, wood sash windows (which are very expensive and energy inefficient) even though our neighbors clearly had modern windows in their historic homes. Maybe that plywood bay was rotting but it wasn't within our rights to tear it off and fill in the wall; we would have to rebuild it, even if that meant from scratch. Oh, and the HDC staff person noticed when she went out to our property that the dead tree that was visible in the picture we submitted of the back of the house had since been removed ... with no permit. Add on a $500 fine. (Yes, we had the dead tree removed because it was rotten through and through and could have fallen on the house in a storm. Our tree guy hadn't mentioned a thing about needing to get a permit.) The only real gimme was that the HDC staff agreed that the additions on the back of the house were too badly damaged to save.

Now, I hate conflict but I'll be goddamned if anyone tries to use me as a pawn in some nickel and diming scheme. I don't care how much I love this city.

But here's what I didn't understand: There's the HDC staff and there's the HDC committee. It is the job of the staff to point out every possible, little non-compliance to the neighborhood's historic guidelines. It is the committee's job to give individual consideration, clarify policy, and grant exceptions. If anyone (neighbor, city services, or otherwise) were to ever complain about what we had done to the house and it came down to the staff person having let something slip through, that person could lose their job. It's their obligation to be captious.

Fortunately, it was the committee's disposition to be reasonable, even downright generous. Before our appearance at the June meeting, Chai and I rehearsed our presentation over an early dinner. She was the more qualified in terms of architectural lingo and background knowledge to go in front of the committee, but we both agree I've got more of, shall we say, a way with people. It's probably the dimples.

The first guy on the docket had bought a house a few blocks up from ours in an auction. He claimed a small budget and no experience renovating, or even owning, a home. As a result, he had gone about replacing all but a handful of the original, wood sash, "6 over 1" windows (a top window divided into 6 panels hung over a single panel, bottom window) with vinyl, "1 over 1" windows before the neighbors reported him to the HDC. In front of the committee, he was all apologies and explained that he really had had no idea that what he was doing was wrong. He was polite and obsequious. It was hard to be mad at him. More than the owner, the committee members were pissed at the contractor that allowed him to purchase the windows for a historic home without telling him to get a permit, since they should know better. They could have fined the owner up to $5000 and made him throw out the vinyl windows and start over (which would have cost him thousands more). But they gave him a firm talking to, a $25 fine, and a directive to restore any of the windows on the front of the house that he could by moving any compatible, salvageable windows to their openings.

This gave me hope that the committee would be as cooperative with us. But Chai was pissed that this guy got off so easy since we were going to the trouble of doing the right thing (and would pay for it) and so had many of our neighbors. I thought she was overreacting until we later found out that a neighbor had indeed approached him before he installed the windows and told him that he needed to go through the HDC first.

We heard the committee review a few more requests (for signs to be installed on commercial buildings, for a fence to keep foot traffic out of a yard, for trees to be trimmed and/or removed etc.), then came our turn. They heard our logic about blocking up the rotting bay and one basement window and about the french doors and Juliet balcony we proposed for the newly rebuilt back wall of the house. There was some discussion among themselves and a few questions for us, and a bit of confusion on my part. Turns out that they were fine with what we were proposing and, if anything, were worried about our modifications looking too historic. They were glad we were preserving what we could of the home but didn't want future generations to look at the house and mistake our renovations as original. That actually gave us more freedom to make some less costly and stylistically unique choices that could give the place a tasteful, little, eclectic pop. Schweet.

Last came the fine for tree removal. All I could do was apologize. It had never occurred to me that "do not touch the exterior without a permit" included the damned trees. And our tree guy, who came recommended by someone who works for the city's forestry department, mentioned nothing about it. They wanted to know what kind of evidence we could give them that this was a tree that they would have granted a permit for anyway. We showed them the picture of the 12-ish foot tall, leafless trunk that used to be there and explained that our tree guy had found it to be so soft that he could poke his finger into it and feel it give way. In the end, they were OK with us having removed it and didn't even really want to give us a fine (considering everything else we were doing at considerable expense and by the book). But they had given the other permit violator a $25 fine and felt they had to be consistent. I could live with that.

As if.
We left with the understanding that they would grant our building permit once we had submitted pictures of the proposed changes to the details they wanted us to make less historic and we had paid our fine. We left relieved and went to Cliff Bell's to celebrate with a drink and, for one night, not think about where we going to get the money for this project. (We left, I mean, after first paying, $18 for 3 hours in the parking structure! Turns out that the posted rates were old and, based on how abandoned the garage was at that time of day, everybody but us seemed to already know it. Sheesh. Where we come from, on-street parking is more expensive than the structures. But I should know by better by now that, in Detroit, we shouldn't take things at face value because they are usually completely different from how we are used to thinking about them.)

While we were sipping cocktails and the marathon HDC meeting went on into the night, our rock star neighbors were forming a flash mob at the end of our street to stop what appeared to be scrappers making off with our hood's Elgin Marbles. If you aren't familiar with the Elgin Marbles, they were major architectural features in the Parthenon, to which the British Ambassador to the Ottoman Empire helped himself in the first decade of the 19th century. He had discovered that some other architectural sculpture had been ground up for its valuable lime content, and kindly "rescued" the remaining pieces from a similar fate by shipping them off to a British museum. The British parliament were not immediately enamored with these ratty, old things and didn't want to pay for their transport and storage. In the end though, they recognized their value and gave them "asylum" under a "free government". How thoughtful and selfless.

West Village has its own iconic piece of architecture, right at the gateway to the neighborhood. It is a 10,000 sf mansion that started life as the home of the owner of the Finck's overalls company (which later became Carhartt), has been a home to a famous fashion designer, was a restaurant for a time, and has sat mostly empty in recent years. One older neighbor claims that the Beatles and Mick Jagger once stayed there. It recently escaped foreclosure with a cash purchase by a Findlay, Ohio millionaire. The new owner had had contractors inside the house for a couple of weeks. Nothing suspicious about that, but the neighbors were curious to say the least. We had noticed the workers in the yard over the last couple of days and felt hopeful that something positive was being done with the place. But when the neighbors saw them removing the wrought iron balcony and decorative limestone features from the exterior and placing on palettes for transport, they flew into action.

As Chai and I had just learned quite well, nobody touches the exterior of a property without a permit from the HDC. The police came and put the workers in the tank until they figured out who the owner was. The new owner claimed he was merely temporarily removing these items to repair water damage and intended to fully restore the place. However, an anonymous tipster from the contracting company revealed that the owner, experienced with historic renovations in his hometown, intended these items for his private lake house. I'm sure he thought they'd be more appreciated there.

This is just a reminder of how people, looking from the outside in to Detroit, read the fatalistic stories in the national media and assume the city is closing up shop and having a fire sale. Despite appearances, people live in the city quite happily. Our treasures are not up for ransacking. If the signs of urban decay are anything, they are a reminder that it takes a collective to accomplish anything of scale. In the past, people expected that collective to be embodied by government. But government doesn't have the resources to keep up anymore. And Detroiters, after decades of failed promises and faltering attempts, are wary of rich saviors and quick fixes.

And here we are again, back to what I love about the city. It's all "do it yourself", and by "yourself" I mean the plural you--you the neighbors, the community organization, the social network, not just the individual. One returning Michigander said it best: “This city, man, you’ve got to leave your ego at the door. If it’s about you getting famous, or you moving ahead, then you’ve picked the wrong city because you will be sniffed out within moments.”

Stay tuned for the next post in the "Shit's Gettin' Realz" series in which I think my way out of my hyperventilation paper bag.

Thursday 21 June 2012

A Very Detroit Problem

This post is part two in the "Shit's Gettin' Realz" series. Click here to read part one.

Here's the thing about navigating the experience of Detroit: What are normal, reasonable assumptions often turn out to be quite wrongheaded and yet serendipity seems to be built into the social fabric of the place. This is how you can buy a historic house for $7500, within a week meet 20 people who genuinely make you feel like you matter, and still wonder what the frick you have gotten yourself into. How things work here reminds me a little of the Mad Hatter's tea party except that everyone is pulling up a chair for you.

By late April, Chai had finished the final tweaks on the architectural drawings and we had gathered 6 names of contractors from neighbors and local architects we have met. Six seemed like plenty, and so we sent out the drawings for bids. Weeks passed. Crickets chirped. Planets spun on their axes. And we got nearly no response to first emails and to second emails. We were baffled--I mean, we wanted to throw 10s of thousands of dollars of work to people in an economically depressed area. You'd think that would be a welcome opportunity, right?

First free-fall jump from a plane - June 21, 1914


Thanks to earlyaviators.com


On June 21, 1914, Miss Georgia "Tiny" Broadwick, demonstrates air-jumping techniques to the US Army in San Diego, CA, by pulling her release manually and becoming the first person to make an intentional free-fall parachute jump from an airplane. (Thanks to northnet.org.)

Sunday 17 June 2012

An idealist and pragmatist walk into a bar ....

I've been pretty quiet while this project has been incubating over the last few months. It has been hard to balance the possibilities of the house with the realities, especially considering that Chai and I respectively embody these competing ideals. The process has not been easy on our relationship. From the get go, I advocated for limiting the design effort to simply the things that needed to be done to get the place habitable. But Chai pointed out (rightly so) that we could waste a lot of time and money working piecemeal if we didn't have a vision of how we'd ultimately like it to look so that we can prioritize work and avoid paying for doing things twice.

The problems started when it came time to pare the list back down to something we could afford.

Tuesday 5 June 2012

Vigorously good, Coca-Cola - June, 1914

Now, with only a hint of cocaine!
Thanks to magazineart.org
A man's drink, a woman's drink, everybody's drinks. Coca-Cola. Vigorously good--and keenly delicious. Thirst-quenching and refreshing. The national beverage--and yours. Demand the genuine by full name--Nicknames encourage substitution. Whenever you see an Arrow think of Coca-Cola.

Sunday 13 May 2012

Joe Louis (b. May 13, 1914)

Happy birthday, Joe Louis!

Born Joseph Louis Barrow on this day in Alabama. Louis's family, shaken by the Ku Klux Klan and moves to Detroit, Michigan in 1926, forming part of the post-World War I Great Migration. The family settles into a home at 2700 Catherine Street (aka Madison Street in 2012) in Detroit's Black Bottom neighborhood.

Within a few years, the Depression hits the Barrow family hard, but as an alternative to gang activity, Joe spends time at a local youth recreation center at 637 Brewster Street in Detroit. Legend will tell that he tried to hide his pugilistic ambitions from his mother by carrying his boxing gloves inside his violin case. In his time as a fighter, Joe Louis will have 72 fight, knock out 54 opponents, endure three defeats, and hold the championship for 12 consecutive years (the longest span for a heavyweight titleholder).

The 24-foot bronze status of his fist has become emblematic of Detroiters' identity as hard-working people who, if they come by success, come by it honestly.

Thanks to the Detroit News





Saturday 5 May 2012

Wrigley's gives pleasant, regular aid to your teeth - May 5, 1914

Thanks to magazineart.org
"The 'Seal of Purity' makes every package of Wrigley's Spearmint a perfect humidor." "I keep my cigars perfect in an air-tight box. This beneficial tidbit is kept perfect with an air-tight seal." Keep this always fresh, delicious, beneficial tidbit always handy. Give pleasant, regular aid to your teeth, breath, appetite, digestion. Look for the spear. Buy it by the box for 85 cents--at most dealers. Each box contains twenty 5 cent packages. They stay fresh until used. Chew it after every meal. It's clean, pure, healthful if it's Wrigley's.

Tuesday 1 May 2012

Budweiser spells temperance - May, 1914

Perhaps he doth protest too much?
Thanks to magazineart.org
Bismarck--the "Greatest of the Germans". Bismarck, like all Germans, prized Personal Liberty as the breath of life--a NATURAL RIGHT to be guarded and defended at any cost. Among our millions of law-abiding German-American citizens there is not a man who does not consider it insolent tyranny of the odious kind for any legislation to issue this command: "Thou shalt NOT eat this--thou shalt NOT drink that." Germans know that there is no evil in the light wines and beers of their fathers. EVIL ONLY IS IN THE MAN WHO MISES THEM. Fifty-seven years ago, ANHEUSER-BUSCH founded their great institution upon the tenet of the Constitution of the United States. During these fifty-seven years they have honestly brewed an honest beer--the kind that has added to the temperance of nations. Their great brand--BUDWEISER--is demanded throughout the world. Its sales exceed any other beer by millions of bottles, proving it to be in a class by itself.

Thursday 29 March 2012

Pre-renovation Tour: Attic and Basement


This is part four of a four-part, pre-renovation tour of the house.


Photo above courtesy of Curbed Detroit.  


 Stairway to Attic

Last we left off, the ribbon oak floors ended and linoleum began as we headed up to the attic.

Notice the broken window leading out onto the roof. Last time I climbed these stairs, I stepped over a squirrel carcass.

Seems the raccoons couldn't wait to roast him in the fire place first.

There is actually liveable space up here.

But even I have to seriously question the color palette.

Again, tarp makes for excellent racoon nesting material.

Whoa, a bathroom in the attic. But check out that paint job on the windows. Did Jackson Pollack live here or something?

Photo above courtesy of Curbed Detroit
How about some before and after pictures? Here, the crew is tearing out the walls that carve up the attic.

We won't renovate this space during the first pass. But the plan is to eventually make this one open room and a small bathroom.

Photo above courtesy of Curbed Detroit
It's OK to be jealous of our claw foot tub. We don't mind.

OK, a quick trip to the basement. It's the least glamorous place in the house, but, hey, check out that old utility sink.

The previous tenant tried to add forced air to house that had only radiant steam heat. They didn't get very far. But the ducts there on the left at least give the house something shiny.



And is that a steel, supporting post leaning at an angle like that? Well, it was nice of them to add a two by four to help.


Thursday 22 March 2012

Pre-renovation Tour: 2nd Floor Master Suite


This is part three of a four-part, pre-renovation tour of the house.

Upstairs Hallway

Last we left off, you were standing in the 2nd floor hallway, looking into the blue master bedroom and the sun room beyond it. Let's step over the toilet on the floor and go there now.

Monday 19 March 2012

Pre-renovation Tour: 2nd floor guest areas

This is part two of a four-part, pre-renovation tour of the house.

1st floor hallway

Now that's you've seen the first floor, ready to head upstairs?

Just to re-orient you: the dining room is on your immediate left, the kitchen is through that door on the far left, the living room is on the other side of the wall on the right (with the doorway to it on your immediate right), and the front entryway is just behind you on the right.

Friday 16 March 2012

Pre-Renovation Tour: 1st Floor

Part one of a four-part pre-renovation tour of the house ....

Photo above courtesy of Curbed Detroit.

C'mon on in our front door.
Don't mind the dumpster and the dust.

We've had a crew in for the last week or so, getting rid of the, ahem, detritus left behind by the the previous tenants (both human and animal). Things we weren't sad to see go included dried raccoon poop, squirrel carcass, styrofoam take out container with what was once lunch still rotting inside, random bits of plastic tarp, torn lineoleum, falling down shelves, and molding cabinets. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's step inside ....

Wednesday 14 March 2012

Life: Uh, fulfilled much?

So, Chai says to me last night, "Are you fulfilled?" It's a classic middle-age question and one that has come up a lot for us in the last few years. I can't say I had thought much about "fulfillment" before I hit my 40s. Maybe the only reason that I give it more than a passing consideration now is that there a certain amount of inertia that comes with being 20-some years into adulthood, a career, and a community.

OK, since one of my friends already got
mesmerized by all the skin and forgot my
love of irony, I should probably point
out that this is not actually my tattoo.
I mean ... years after having gotten that tattoo (which is now blurry and faded) and the body piercings (which never healed right), doing those protests and marches (which have yet to show signs of paying off), traveling the world (which yielded some equally scary and hilarious, fish-out-of-water moments), nearly failing out of grad school, and losing a friend to AIDS in my twenties; after the spin cycle of failed romances, the thousands of hours spent in therapy, meditation, and loneliness, a second graduate degree (this time, at the behest of my underserved right brain), the car wreck (in which my sturdy Chrysler P-body was totaled by a semi but from which I remarkably walked away), the ongoing years of physical therapy, the long-awaited flowering of a dear young person (who I had helped through a difficult adolescence and young adulthood), and the loss of my dog (my closest companion) of 17 years, all while still working full time in my thirties; only to close out the decade by actually finding somebody who wants me AND puts up with me, followed immediately by her diagnosis and ass kicking of Stage 4 cancer,  I'm tired. And, frankly, there's some really good TV on these days.

Friday 9 March 2012

Shout Out: "Difficult Dealings in The D" from Curbed

Sarah F. Cox, over at Curbed Detroit, stopped by this week to snap some pics of the clean up progress on our property and share with you some "highlights" of our buying saga. Check out the photo spread and her article "Difficult Dealings in The D: What Two Gals Dealt With to Buy".



Be sure to add Curbed Detroit to your newsfeed so you won't miss the continuing stooorrry of what it has been like for us to buy and renovate in The D.

Tuesday 14 February 2012

Monday 13 February 2012

Shout Out: Detroit 1914 gets an intro from Curbed

Yo, yo, friends. Sarah Cox over at Curbed Detroit gives us an intro today on her blog.



Be sure to add Curbed Detroit to your newsfeed so you won't miss the upcoming retelling of the real estate angle of our continuing saga.

Tuesday 31 January 2012

In the news - January, 1914

Photo of 1909 newsgirls courtesy of Shorpy 

I've been reading a bit of the Detroit Free Press from 1914 every day for about a month now in search of tidbits to share. But these themes come up so often that, if you hear nothing else, at least one of these were mentioned (listed in the general order of frequency).

Wednesday 25 January 2012

Detroit Auto Show - January 17-24, 1914


Ford branch office circa 1914.
Photo from "The First Century of the
Detroit Auto Show
"
Truth be told, the Detroit Auto Show isn't something I generally get excited about. (Yes, I'm from here. Bite me.) But I do like a good party, especially if it involves musical numbers. And because the 2012 show also marks a turn around for Detroit (*fingers crossed*) and the auto industry, let's get down to it ....

By 1914, Detroit is already on its 13th annual auto show. The first three floors of the Ford branch building on Woodward and Boulevard (aka Grand Boulevard) host 41 brands of "gasoline pleasure cars", 6 makes of commercial vehicles, an array of accessories (e.g., electric cranks, radiators), and a smattering of motorcycles. All told, $1 million worth of autos ($22 million in 2012 dollars) are on display, and these are just a sampling of the 395,000 autos that Detroit expects to crank out this year.

Monday 16 January 2012

Why Detroit?


If you are like everyone else who has never been to Detroit (or maybe just hasn't been below 8 Mile lately), you probably know it by its music, cars, and destitution. Mostly the latter anymore. So, when I tell people I'm moving to Detroit, I find myself always having to follow it up with an elaborate explanation as to why. (The subtext being "Why would a well-traveled, highly educated, middle aged, white women want to give up her life in a low crime, low pollution, 25 sq mile piece of manicured paradise that she shares with a couple hundred thousand other well-traveled, highly educated, white people to move to a place like, uh, Detroit?" Or maybe when I put it like that, I needn't say more.)

Well, to save me the trouble of repeating myself and you the disservice of losing the essence in a sound bite, below is montage and a few hours worth of reasons why I cannot wait to call Detroit home. (If you don't have time for them all, then at least watch the first video, "Redefining Dreamland".)

I love Detroit for ... 

Sunday 8 January 2012

Renovation: Home is Where the Kitchen Is

The design of the house is coming along!

The original footprint of the house is an 1100 sf rectangle, and long, long ago someone put a two-story addition on one side of the back of what had been an entirely brick house (and then put a first-floor "bump out" on the addition, then a porch extending away from the "bump out"). While the envelope of the house (i.e., basement, exterior walls, and roof) is in generally good condition, the plaster on the rear wall where the addition is attached has come loose and water has been seeping in and down for who knows how long. This means that the pantry cupboards have molded and the roof of the "bump out" and porch is sagging. The back porch itself is collapsing under its own weight.

Sunday 1 January 2012

Welcome home, Mona Lisa - January 1, 1914

In case you've been living under a rock since 1911, the Mona Lisa has been stolen! Just over two years ago, on August 21, 1911, Vincenzo Peruggia, a former employee of the Louvre who also fancied himself an Italian patriot, "rescued" the Mona Lisa from her French captors. In classic caper tradition, he had hid out in a broom closet, swiped the fair maiden with the help of janitorially costumed accomplices, and sidled off with her under his coat after hours.

But Vincenzo was not a patient (or particularly noble) man and, after two years of waiting for the right moment, he tried to hock ML to the Uffizi. For his trouble, he was arrested in flagrante dilecto with the masterpiece in his hotel room, got six months in jail, and, in classic Italian tradition, was hailed as a national hero. Today, January 1, 1914, all of France rejoices as La Jaconde is restored to her familiar roost in the Louvre (by way of a brief tour of Italy).

In news stateside,
  • The cost of a dozen eggs is expected to go up to $1 ($23 in 2012 dollars), as supply is not keeping up with demand.
  • The Detroit police commissioner resolves to reduce reckless driving and put an end to the social custom of the exchange of pleasantries, small talk, and cards between police officers and motorists involved in accidents.
  • To add salt to the wound of the the Michigan labor movement, the Calumet coroner absolves opponents of the copper miners' strike (accused of falsely shouting "Fire" in a hall hosting a Christmas Eve dinner for the strikers and their families) of causing the panicked stampede deaths of 74, including many children.