Just a friendly reminder: I will be reading tomorrow (Wednesday) night as part of Wednesday Night Sessions. Vievee Francis and Jeff Kass are also reading. It will be great.
I am just beginning to recuperate from the excitement of Wednesday night, hence this very late post.
To those of you who were able to make it out to the release party for Hidden History of Detroit: Thank you so much! It was wonderful to meet so many of you in person. You shared so many stories with me — an eye-opening reminder that we are all infinitely connected to the city, and to each other, and have so much to learn together. I keep smiling to myself when I think about all of the great conversations we had.
The setting could not have been more perfect and the music from Steve and James (formerly of Scarlet Oaks) made the Streets come alive. Well done, boys.
If you liked the tapenade (or any of the other snacks), you can thank Fresh Chef Detroit. She posted a recipe for the tapenade yesterday, too. (Tapenade makes any night a party.)
If you are visiting the blog for the first time after attending my event: Hi! It is a little messy here, due to recent book-related commitments and some neglected housekeeping duties, but I hope you have fun exploring. Maybe you would like to start with some favorite posts.
If you weren’t able to make it, please don’t fret! The next chance to catch me hawking the book in person is on December 1 at Leopold’s Books. John Carlisle (you may know him as Detroitblogger John) will be there, too, talking about his (terrific) new book, 313: Life in the Motor City. John is one of my favorite writers and I think the two of us together will give you wildly different, hugely entertaining, rarely-told stories of Detroit.
Finally, many of you have been asking me where you can buy the book. Good question, right? So I made a list for you. It isn’t comprehensive (I don’t yet know which libraries it’s at, for example), so if you find it somewhere I didn’t list, please drop me a line and I’ll add it.
Thanks! And stay tuned for more events, readings, cocktail parties and other celebrations. I can’t wait! Early Detroit history or bust!
Stevens Thomson Mason is one of my all-time favorite characters from Detroit history. Determined! Dreamy! Stubborn! Stylish! Triumphant! Tragic! The boy governor had it all.
This time last year we were re-interring Stevens T. Mason for the FOURTH time. Buried first in New York City after his death in 1843, his remains were moved to Detroit with great fanfare in 1905, then disinterred and moved across the park during a bus station improvement project, then lost, and found again, in 2010 during Capitol Park’s renovation. Here is what I wrote about him in the closing chapter of my book:
Every time Detroit feels young again, we turn to the Boy Governor. Just nineteen when President Andrew Jackson appointed him secretary of the Michigan Territory and only twenty-five when he became acting governor, Stevens Thomson Mason is a handsome touchstone for anyone in a youthful, voracious mood. And he was the perfect first governor for a capital city perpetually on the brink of a massive shift.
Every generation dredges up his memory. Most generations have also dredged up his casket.
Please enjoy these posts about Stevens T. Mason as a celebration of America’s youngest-ever (and studliest-ever? And certainly most frequently unearthed) Governor.
You might also want to join the Michigan Historical Commission and the Detroit Recreation Department at Capitol Park tomorrow —that is Thursday, 10/27, at 12:00 p.m. — for a 200th birthday bash. The commission will unveil a new state historical marker at the site. More info at boyguv.com!
EDIT (as of 10/24/11): Thanks to those of you who joined us for the tour on Saturday! We had a lovely time meeting lots of new people, telling historical tales and reveling in the perfect fall weather. If you are looking for the historical photos of the old Log Cabin that I mentioned, you can find them here.
Hi pals. I have some neat posts in the hopper for you. Less “book book book!” and more of the old-timey, ramble-y, nerdy stuff you come here for. Next week is going to be a good week for reading, so clear some space on your calendar.
Meanwhile: Housekeeping!
1. FRIENDLY REMINDER: Palmer Park tour tomorrow
I had my tour orientation last weekend and let me tell you: this tour is pretty special. I will be stationed at the first tour stop, the Log Cabin, talking about Senator Thomas W. Palmer, his wife Lizzie, and the history of the park itself. But then the tour moves on to the historic apartment district that winds along the perimeter of the park, and especially if you are an architecture lover, it is a fantastic neighborhood to see on foot, first-hand.
Back in the 1920s, the Palmer Park district was located right on the interurban railway, running from the riverfront all the way to Pontiac. Full of cafes and bars, restaurants and theaters, Palmer Park attracted a diverse, vibrant, and often wealthy array of residents. The apartments, mostly commissioned between the 1920s and 1960s, display a variety of architectural styles, from an imposing Harry Potter-y English Tudor lodge to blocks of ostentatious Moorish designs and sleek, modern Art Deco lines. There’s a beautiful former Jewish temple back there and a sneaky Albert Kahn apartment building, commissioned by Walter Owen Briggs for Briggs Manufacturing Company workers who were having trouble finding apartments that would allow children.
Maybe you had relatives who lived in this neighborhood. Maybe YOU lived in this neighborhood! My dad had premarital counseling with his Rabbi in this neighborhood. It’s living history and it’s well-worth seeing.
Register here or in person tomorrow. (Tours run every 15 minutes between 12 and 2 p.m.) The tour fee includes a beautiful souvenir book, cider and donuts, and afterward there are hayrides and a bonfire.
2. THE RELEASE PARTY
These people aren’t invited.*
But you are! I made a whole page about it over here that you can share with your mom, your friends, and your favorite media personalities.
There’s a Facebook page, too. So it’s officially official. It’s free, it’s November 9, it’s at the Historical Museum, and all you have to do is show up. For cake. And hilarity.
*Clockwise from top left: Gabriel Richard; Emily Virginia Mason; Silas Farmer; Hiram Walker; Hazen Pingree; Clara Ward.
3. THIS VIDEO
Thanks for making it through the housekeeping. Now take 15 minutes to nerd out with Brian Mulloy of Michigan Essay who gave this talk about Chief Pontiac, “Detroit’s Original Badass,” at the TEDx Detroit conference last month.
Minutes after Brian started speaking, someone tweeted at me: “Uh, this guy is the boy version of you.”
To be frank I am kind of jealous that I didn’t come up with a talk like this first. It’s great. Enjoy it.
That question rattled me yesterday, when I looked at the calendar, startled, and realized that this was the day. It felt like I had accidentally skipped class on the day of a major exam.
But slowly it dawned on me that this is just the beginning of a sweet (and terribly nerdy) adventure.
There will be details to come, like where you can buy it. (From The History Press directly, and Amazon for sure, but I would encourage you to think about supporting an independent local shop if you can. A list of exactly which shops those are is in the works.)
And about the release party, which is — mark your calendar! — Wednesday, November 9, in the evening, at the gracious Detroit Historical Museum, where I spent a lot of time mining for gold when I was working on the book (see: the cedar-block pavement in the Streets of Old Detroit; a photograph of James Vernor and the Michigan Board of Pharmacy on a soda-shop counter; Meier’s Astronomical Clock). We are still working on a few of the finer points. But there will be music and food. And I already picked out a dress to wear. And we’ll probably go to a bar afterward.
To be frank I was a little anxious when the books arrived. What if I had made a terrible mistake? Would I open it and find a major factual error, an unsound analysis, or a glaring omission? In a vulnerable moment, even a typo would sink me.
But on Sunday I went to Elmwood — to prepare for this Saturday’s tour, but also to enjoy the spectacular weather —and things have never felt more right.
There was a time when this place overwhelmed me. Now I know my way around. In my head it is a sunny day on the muddy streets of the old port town, crowded with ponies and grog shops. I am arrayed in some splendid broadcloth skirts and greeting my neighbors. Bonjour, Mr. Campau. Good day, Solomon Sibley. Herr Stroh. How do you do, Governor Porter?
I walk into the valley where Parents Creek still runs and think about musket fog, the cover of the woods, and the dark French nights of old Detroit.
And then, as I always do, I find General Friend Palmer‘s headstone, hidden beneath an overgrown bush. I think: His book wasn’t perfect. It was crazy. And he got some things wrong. I still love him.
I wrote this book for him. But more importantly, I wrote this book for you. People like to talk about “community” when they talk about how the social web works, and I used to be kind of skeptical about what that really means. But I totally get it now. Every time you share a photo on the Facebook page, leave a helpful comment (see: this amazing comment thread) , or send me an email because you caught me writing about one of your relatives, I’m astounded, delighted, and deeply thankful.
The book is just the icing on the cake. And I hope you like it.
Have we ever met over drinks? If so, you may have witnessed this thing I do, mostly when I’ve been drinking: I get excited about some story, and start it some distance from the natural beginning of the story, and embroider it the whole way through with side-winding detail, and sometimes forget the story at hand completely, and sometimes repeat things over and over again, because I am lost in the story and trying to machete my way out of it.
Allegedly, I once told a story about how much my dad likes Wayne Newton — for 45 minutes.In which time I must have indulged the unabridged and tangled tale of my entire family. Starting from Russia. Ending with an elopement in Las Vegas. Or something.
If you’ve never had the fortune/misfortune of watching this happen (people tell me it’s really entertaining!) — or if you have, and you want that experience available to you at a whim, in your very own living room, without worrying whether I am going to spill my beer on you — I have some good news.
Today I am proud to announce that my book, Hidden History of Detroit, is available for pre-order.
It looks like this!
It’s a slim volume, but it’s packed with stories teased from the margins, asides and back-alleys of Detroit history. Stories that sprawl and bend recklessly around the curves of chronological time. Stories like the ones I tell over drinks:
The haphazard history of Detroit’s city-owned cemeteries, and some of the people therein we lost track of
Historic homes of early Detroit that sat empty and vandalized for years, lamented in newspaper editorials
and by preservationists, and torn down to make way for high-rises and hotels
The parties. Oh my gosh, the parties. Parties so famous that people celebrated the centennial anniversary of those parties. Parties where dignified state officials got drool-drunk. Parties that people wrote odes to!
French ponies, pony races, pony-carts, and the narrow, muddy streets those pony-carts slogged through
Liquor laws — did you know that Michigan was under prohibition from 1855 – 1875? — and the rowdy saloons that defied them
And, if you’ve been reading this blog for a while, LOTS of familiar faces: Silas Farmer, Gabriel Richard, grouchy Antoine de la Mothe Cadillac, Jim Scott, Stevens T. Mason (and his foxy sister Emily!), amusement king David McKinstry, and, of course and always and forever, General Friend Palmer
It’s a curiosity cabinet, a laboratory of memory, a crowded barroom, and, I hope, a hell of a fun read.
More details to come soon. Including and especially the RELEASE PARTY! Which I hope people will write about 100 years from now as one of the great release parties of the era.
So far, the support from friends, loved ones and readers has been overwhelming and I am so grateful to all of you for making this possible. I can’t wait to meet some of you in person, give huge hugs to total strangers, and maybe get tipsy and splash my drink around while gesturing wildly during a run-on tale about something obscure.
