“The monuments of ruination” as Herron (2012) states, are macabre reminders of corporate socialism and its incestuous bedfellows within the institutions of politics, religion, the courts, and unionized factions. There are various opinions about who is to blame, however the end result is the same: In 1981, one third of a neighborhood was razed, along with parts of an adjacent city (Hamtramck) displacing 1,720 households, 3,438 residents, and 143 businesses and institutions, including 16 churches, a hospital, and two schools to make room for a new General Motors (GM) automotive plant known during construction as the Central Industrial Park Project (CIPP). (Fasenfest, 1986, p. 110; Michigan Supreme Court Historical Society, 2007; United States General Accounting Office, 1989, p. 17). The CIPP engulfed over 460 acres of land (Fasenfest, 1986, p. 110).
Poletown
As previously stated, neighborhoods like Poletown and what they represent are not only reminders, they are desperate and despairing makers, warnings from the past about what continues to happen in cities and neighborhoods today. Like Detroit at-large, Poletown is perhaps an extreme example, yet one that should not be ignored. The social and cultural constructs of what Poletown once was make its systematic yet abrupt destruction all the more poignant. Poletown in 1980 was perhaps as close to the promise of the social American dream as one could have hoped for; then and now. Not perfect by any means, but an integrated community, culturally pluralistic, where neighbors knew one another. “The neighborhood selected for the new plant…was a rare commodity in an urban environment: a stable, integrated area that in many ways harkened back to the close-knit ethnic communities that characterized Detroit’s past” (Aladjem, 1988, pp. 673-4). Poletown was “known for its sound housing stock, its low rents, its good access to shops and services, and its tolerance for divergent ethnic groups and religious denominations. There were some black and white neighbors who had shared a block for fifty years, and a study done by the University of Michigan in 1980 suggested that the area may be one of the most continuously racially integrated areas in Michigan” (Wylie, 1989, p. 7).
The space, originally inhabited by German farmers, became a predominantly Polish neighborhood in the 1870’s. By 1900, almost 50,000 Poles immigrated to the area, including neighboring Hamtramck, and found work in manufacturing cigars, stoves, radiators, and steam engines (Michigan Supreme Court Historical Society, 2007). Many families stayed for generations, raising their children in or near the homes in which they were born.
The issue of eminent domain is what made Poletown a common reference in legal and historical circles and, interestingly, it was eminent domain that originally integrated Poletown. In 1939, New Deal policies used eminent domain to move residents of the “Black Bottom” neighborhood in Detroit into Poletown in order to build I-75 (Michigan Supreme Court Historical Society, 2007). Despite the “white flight” experienced by many urban cities in America, there was a fairly equal race distribution in the neighborhood in 1980 (United States General Accounting Office, 1989, p. 10).
Photo courtesy of Getty Images
Photo courtesy of mackinanc.org
Problems
Apparently it is difficult to rid oneself of an association, no matter how obsolete. Such is the image of Detroit as “The Motor City.” While the moniker continues to be associated with the city at present, the reality is Detroit started to lose the title in the 1950’s. In 1954, almost seventy percent of industrial acreage in the city was in some form of decline and industries began to leave the area (Darden, Hill, Thomas, & Thomas, 1987, p.175). One can understand how this shift might go largely unnoticed over the course of a couple of decades; however the late 1970’s provided a wake-up call for the country and Detroiters alike. “The oil crisis and recession of 1979 hit Detroit like no other city in America. Unemployment was rising to record levels and the city’s treasury was in free fall as the automobile industry was busy closing obsolete plants and planning to build new ones outside of Detroit” (Fischel, 2006, p. 33).
By 1980, the year the CIPP was made viable, unemployment in the city was 18% overall and close to 30% for Black citizens (Aladjem, 1988, p.673). Thus, it is not difficult to imagine the urgency felt by community and state leaders to quickly find a solution. What is more difficult to understand is the lack of both retrospective and perspective on the part of those leaders. With the knowledge that the auto industry was on a slow decline for several decades, one wonders why community, state, and federal leaders chose to invest in a seemingly predisposed-to-fail project; especially when the investment included the lives of thousands of its citizenry. Instead, GM and Detroit became “frenzied” in their efforts to move the Poletown project forward at lightening speed.
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Power
“It is only democracy if you don’t tangle with the power structure” (Information Factory Inc., 1982). During and after the destruction of the community, there was plenty of blame to go around. Fasenfest (1986) analyzed community power structure in the context of the decision making progress regarding the CIPP. Fasenfest states, “Power is the cumulation of each struggle….without requiring that power is overtly applied in any situation” (p. 106). Given that all options were defined by and benefitted GM, the automaker assumed no risk in the deal, and GM made no formal promises about benefits to the community, Fasenfest surmises GM is the main offender in the case of Poletown. Indeed, many of the protests led by the Poletown Neighborhood Council (PNC) were directed at GM.
Fischel (2006) identifies Detroit’s Mayor Coleman Young as a minor power player with his staunch desire to keep Detroit an industrial hub, leverage over GM, and ties to the federal government. Fischel ultimately contends it was the U.S. government who held control of the events of Poletown. This is due to the fact that most of the funding for the CIPP came from the federal government by way of grants and loans (p. 34).
The Detroit City Council and the Community and Economic Development Department (CEDD) were not let off the hook, however both parties appeared more inept than active. The City Council has been described as a “rubber stamp” organization that neither bothered to understand the financial structure of the CIPP deal nor particularly engaged with the community beyond holding meetings to hear citizens’ questions about the CIPP without providing any answers. The CEDD is thought to have done GM’s bidding. “GM and the CEDD must have engaged in informal negotiations which excluded the Council long before GM’s announcement…These need not be face-to-face meetings, but rather an ongoing process in which the needs of producers become part of the knowledge necessary to run local government” (Fasenfest, 1986, p. 119).
It is worth noting that the PNC appealed to two institutions they believed would support their cause: the United Autoworkers Union (UAW) and the Archdiocese of Detroit. The UAW did not respond to the PNC’s request for assistance in their fight against GM. The Catholic Church not only did not help the residents of Poletown, the Diocese helped to move the project along by selling two of its churches for an estimated $2.5 million during the period when the Michigan Supreme Court ordered a halt to demolition to hear arguments in the case. The Church also removed one of the parish’s outspoken priests who was part of the PNC (Information Factory Inc., 1982).
Opinions and analyses vary on who or what was the driving force behind the CIPP and consequently the displacement of almost 3,500 people. What is certain is that, in spite of their best efforts, the people of Poletown were powerless to stop the city from taking their land, destroying their homes, businesses, and churches, and handing their property over to a wealthy corporation.
Property
“The Fifth Amendment and its relatives in state constitutions implicitly indicate that government has the power of eminent domain…the Takings Clause screens out illegitimate takings of property by forcing all such actions to meet two criteria: (i) that property is taken only for ‘public use,’ and (ii) that ‘just compensation’ is rendered to those whose property is taken for such uses” (Kochan, 1998, p. 60). How, then, does a city like Detroit, backed by the Michigan Supreme Court, take land from private citizens for use of a private corporation?
Public use. The “blurred lines” of eminent domain for private use can be traced back to railroad construction in the 19th century. In spite of opposition by some, the Courts of the time ruled in favor of allowing eminent domain to expand to private rail companies, arguing the railroads would ultimately be for public use. “The Progressive Era and the New Deal which it spawned brought a further erosion of the public use limitation” by taking property as a way to combat blight (Sandefur, 2005, p. 659). In the 1950’s, states across America linked the public use clause to take “slum properties” by stating these dwellings were a threat to public health and safety. By the time Detroit decided to embark on the CIPP and seize property in Poletown, the public use limitation had already been eroded (Sandefur, 2005, pp.654-660).
Compensation. The residents of Poletown were indeed monetarily compensated for their homes and businesses. However, one cannot compensate adequately for community because the tangibles do not define the “idea” or “feel” of community. As Aldajem (1988) states, “They were compensated for their tangible property, but received no compensation for their interest in the community itself—their ‘personhood’ property in the community” (p. 676).
Promise
The ghost of the Motor City resurrected as a façade in CIPP. With the erecting of the new plant, the idea of job creation looked plausible. And why not? When all was said, done, destroyed, and built, Detroit invested over $300 million in money, tax breaks, and other revenue streams to realize GM’s mission. Yet of the 6,000 projected jobs, only a fraction, approximately 3,600, were actually made available. Much of the plant was automated. The factory officially began production in 1985 and, four years later, only two percent of Poletown neighborhood residents were employed there (United States General Accounting Office, 1989, p. 24). It is estimated that Detroit would not see any direct revenue from the project for between 15 and 20 years (Fasenfest, 1986, 117). One can glean from any contemporary feature about Detroit that the promised dividends did not and will not ever pay off.
People
So what happens to the people when their government chooses industry over them? How do the powerless, the vulnerable among us survive, let alone thrive, when they are given the message they are expendable? The Poletown Lives! documentary provides a glimpse at the raw emotion and impact of the events surrounding the construction of the CIPP (see link below).
https://archive.org/details/poletownlives#
In the next blog entry, this author will discuss the potential impact of policies that place people into a life on the fringes. This analysis will be framed within the context of trauma informed care, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and depression contrasted with exemplars of the strength of the human spirit.
References
Aladjem, D.R. (1988). Public use and treatment as equal: An essay on poletown
neighborhood council v. city of detroit and hawaii housing authority v.
midkiff. Ecology Law Quarterly, 15, 671-718.
Darden, J., Hill, R.C., Thomas, J., & Thomas, R. (1987). Detroit: Race and Uneven
Development. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
Fasenfest, D. (1986). Community politics and urban redevelopment: Poletown,
detroit, and general motors. Urban Affairs Quarterly, 22(1), 101-123.
Fischel, W.A. (2006). Before kelo. Regulation, 32-5.
Herron, J. (2012). The forgetting machine: Notes toward a history of detroit.
Places. Retrieved from https://placesjournal.org/article/the-forgetting-machine-notes-toward-a-history-of-detroit/
Information Factory, Inc. (Producer). (1982). Poletown lives! [Documentary].
United States: Information Factory.
Kochan, D.J. (1998). “Public use” and the independent judiciary: Condemnation in
an interest-group perspective. Texas Review of Law & Politics, 13(1), 50-116.
Michigan Supreme Court Historical Society. (2009). Poletown neighborhood
council v. detroit: Private property and public use. Michigan Bar Journal,
18-23. Retrieved from http://www.micourthistory.org/wp-content/uploads/verdict_pdf/poletown/MSC_Mar_Poletown.pdf
Sandefur, T. (2005). A gleeful obituary for poletown neighborhood council v.
detroit. Harvard Journal of Law & Public Policy, 28, 651-678.
United States General Accounting Office. (1989). Information on resident and
business relocation from poletown project (GAO/RCED-90-48FS).
Retrieved from http://www.gao.gov/assets/90/88598.pdf
Wylie, J. (1989). Poletown: Community Betrayed. Chicago: University of
Illinois Press.
Hoods, Schools, and People 
