For walking man James Robertson, 3 whirlwind days

Two days ago Detroiter James Robertson couldn't afford a car — and today he can afford a small fleet.

Just last week, Robertson was spending lonely hours walking 21 miles to and from his suburban factory job, treks forced by the Motor City's sky-high car insurance and the region's spotty bus service.

It's been a whirlwind three days. Calls and e-mails have flooded the Free Press sending him well wishes and offering him cars, jobs, rides to work and encouragement, Some who read his story just want to meet him — shake his hand or give him a hug.

"I gotta say, this is Detroit, this is how people are in Detroit. They say Los Angeles is the city of angels. That's wrong. Detroit is the real city of angels," Robertson said.

Robertson spent Monday and Tuesday being shuttled to interviews. National networks interviewed him Monday night. Radio stations and People magazine have talked to him as well. And through it all, the 56-year old factory worker has remained humble.

"I have to be careful how I act about this — the same God who brings you all these blessings can take them away, but hopefully I'm ready for what happens," Robertson said.

Sunday's story, still available to read at freep.com, told of how a full-time job and daily commutes of 21 miles on foot each day left him just two hours for sleep, eased at times when a friendly banker would stop in bad weather to give him rides. Immediately a college student got the ball rolling to raise money to buy Robertson a car, with an initial goal of raising $5,000. As of late Tuesday more than $254,000 has been donated.

At Mr. B's Food & Spirits bar in Rochester, Robertson hugged WSU computer whiz Evan Leedy, 19, of Macomb Township, in thanks for creating the fund-raising web page.

"I'm always going to be in your debt. I will never forget this," Robertson said, as the younger man in the sweater-hoodie shook his hand Monday night.

Many of those who saw the Free Press story were so impressed with Robertson's work ethic — he has a perfect attendance record — "they want to say you earned this money," Leedy told the older man.

The unprecedented power of the Internet turned what a generation ago might have been local civic leaders passing the hat into a digital phenomenon of thousand, across the globe, giving amounts from $1 to hundreds. Yet, as TV crews, magazine writers and even local radio legend Dick Purtan circled Robertson for interviews — and more cash poured into a GoFundMe Internet site set up by a Wayne State University student — this soft-spoken operator of an injection-molding press vowed that all the money and attention wouldn't change him.

By Tuesday afternoon, at Purtan's lakeside mansion in West Bloomfield, Robertson told the retired radio funnyman he had no intention of quitting his $10.55/hour job, no plan to leave bosses and coworkers he cares deeply about, no intention of ever moving from the neighborhood in central Detroit where he'd lived all his life. Purtan was moved, like countless others who've read about Robertson or seen the Free Press video of him making a commute through miles of snow in Oakland County last week.

"James, the work ethic is fabulous. You're an inspiration. Would you run for president? 'Cuz I'd vote for you," Purtan said into a radio mike at the mini-studio in his dining room that's heard over the web.

"I'd have to think about it," Robertson said, grinning. Then his mien turned serious: "If I can teach one person, or do something to help Detroit, that would make me the happiest man in the world."

The Free Press told the story on Sunday's front page of Robertson's arduous regimen of bus rides and foot-slogging to keep his suburban factory job after his aging Honda quit, his employer moved north nine miles from Madison Heights to Rochester Hills, and bus service was repeatedly cut back in metro Detroit, forcing him to walk longer and longer distances each day. Rochester Hills is one of scores of suburban communities whose residents declined to approve property-tax millage for SMART buses, so no fixed-route large buses run there, SMART officials said.

This week's interviews and meeting were arranged by banker Blake Pollock, 47, of Rochester, who brought Robertson's story to the Free Press after seeing the lonely commuter walking in every sort of weather for hours through areas of Troy and Rochester Hills.

"I've never met anyone like James, never dreamed anyone would be walking like this to keep his job," Pollock said. Because their commuting routes overlap in Oakland County, the UBS Bank vice president has picked up Robertson dozens of times this winter, ferrying the older man to the job at a plastic molding plant that is 23 miles from Robertson's home.

Now, Pollock is assembling a board of advisers to help Robertson manage the rapidly mounting donations earmarked for Robertson, including offers of new and used cars, in response to the story that detailed Robertson's long days of getting to work on buses and on foot.

"I told him there are going to be some people who will help you with this, and he's not anxious about, 'Hey, I want my money.' He sees the need to manage this. I also think we owe it to all of the people who contributed — the transparency, some sort of accounting," Pollock said. On Tuesday, Purtan volunteered while recording his podcast to be one of the advisers.

"James, if you'll have me, I'd be happy to be on this board. I think you know where to find me," Purtan said. Robertson is single but has a girlfriend, sisters and other relatives in Detroit, some of whom have been out of touch with him until the Free Press sparked a flurry of publicity, he said.

Money will be set aside for years of auto insurance, gasoline, maintenance and likely will help him with medical and dental expenses, too, Pollock said. Dealers have offered, through the Free Press, free Chevrolets, Hondas and other makes.

Robertson's last car was an aging Honda that he told the Free Press quit on him in 2005, after which he couldn't afford a car on his hourly wage, now $10.55. And Robertson sounded ready to visit Ford country.

"I'm a Ford fan. Now if only they would do the Lions as good as they do the cars," he quipped, laughing.

"I remember the Taurus. They look comfortable, nothing fancy. They're simple on the outside, strong on the inside — like me," he declared.

"I'm 6-foot, and I think the Mustang's a little tight," he added, explaining that "I got in quite a few cars" during his annual visit to Detroit's auto show at Cobo Center.

"I mostly stay with Americans cars — Lincoln, Fords, GM, Dodge."

Besides being the poster child for metro-Detroit's two underfunded bus systems, Robertson has quickly come to stand for much more, said Jackie Purtan, 49, daughter of Purtan, his former sidekick on years of morning radio broadcasts, and now producer of his weekly podcasts on his www.dickpurtan.com website. His story "celebrates America's old-fashioned work ethic," she said.

Then, with the business-suited banker and bushy-browed radio legend looking on, Robertson cocked his head and put his newfound riches and celebrity status in to perspective.

"I've seen what happens when people get money. My dad, God rest his soul, he still influences me. He's not going to let me get haughty."

Contact Bill Laitner: blaitner@freepress.com and 313-223-4485.