Dear Detroiters,

After 32 years covering this city and state for the Detroit Free Press, today marks my final column. For a lot of reasons I’ve decided this is a good time to move on to my next chapter.

John Gallagher Junfu Han, Detroit Free Press

But I’m not leaving Detroit and I’m not hanging up my keyboard. I’ll continue to write in a variety of ways — more books, perhaps blogging and podcasts, and otherwise I'll be engaging with this fascinating city and its people in a bunch of new ways.

I thank my editors and my colleagues for their support during my career here at the Free Press. And I thank you, my readers, who over the years have shared this amazing city with me. You’ve responded to my work by turns complimentary and critical, encouraging and scathing, but never dull.

This job has given me a front-row seat into one of the world’s great urban dramas — the resurrection of a once-powerhouse city brought low by the scourges of racism, suburban sprawl and factory closings. Whether you agree or disagree that Detroit has made progress in recent years, you have to admit that the range of effort here has been nothing short of remarkable. Not for nothing is Detroit known as an urban laboratory for the world’s struggling cities.

The work of reimagining a Detroit after the fall has been the focus of my work for many years. So today, let me try to sum up what I think we’ve learned.

The free-fall years

When I joined the Free Press in 1987, the city of Detroit was still in free fall. Decades of factory closings, years of of flight to the suburbs, a dismal legacy of racism and its effects, had drained the city of residents, jobs and political clout. A population of about 1 million would drop at least another 300,000 in years to come. Anchor employers like Comerica decamped their headquarters to the Sunbelt.

Perhaps the low point was the case of Malice Green in 1992, when two white cops during an arrest beat Green, a black suspect, to death with flashlights. The case exposed all of Detroit’s woes and seemed to give the lie to any notion of progress on race or any other matters.

Two neighborhood boys walk past the Malice Green memorial at Warren and 23rd Street in Detroit in 1997. Craig Porter, Detroit Free PRess

And more disappointments were to come. Michigan would sink into its “Lost Decade” in 2001 when the state began to shed jobs every year for 10 years in a row. Those who predicted a quick turnaround were proved wrong again and again. It was no normal business cycle but, as University of Michigan economist Donald Grimes told me for a 2018 article, the long-overdue reaction to the vanished market share of the Detroit Three automakers.

"That was a permanent adjustment of the auto industry to the loss of its monopoly power," Grimes said. "We'll never get back to where we were in the year 2000."

And then came the Great Recession of 2007-2009. Short of an atom bomb going off here, it’s hard to image a worse calamity for the city. The collapse of the subprime mortgage market, the devastation wreaked by the Wayne County tax foreclosure auction, the implosion of home values, all but finished off Detroit.

The Great Recession turned Detroit from a city of homeowners to a city of renters. It wiped out a generation of black family wealth that we are yet to recover. And it led inexorably to the city’s municipal bankruptcy of 2013-14.

The first hints of recovery

But even amid the losses and abandonment, some early shoots of recovery were showing.

For years, Detroiters were turning vacant lots into urban farms. There were hundreds of small community gardens and several larger farms like Earthworks and RecoveryPark on the east side, the D-Town Farm led by Malik Yakini of the Detroit Black Community Food Security Network on the west side, and the Michigan Urban Farming Initiative in New Center.

This repurposing of vacant and abandoned land for productive use first drew the attention of the world and began to inch Detroit’s reputation from Rust Belt failure to that of a city reinventing itself.

Then, too, a city government too broken and dysfunctional to do all it should began to spin off some of its operations into innovative conservancies, nonprofit corporations and public authorities. These spin-offs were hotly contested each time but ultimately proved remarkably successful.

Under these new management models, Eastern Market transformed from a faded and failing operation to the lively marketplace we see today. Cobo Center, now renamed the TCF Center, was once so poorly run by the city that it almost lost the annual auto show. Once spun off into a regional authority in 2009, the convention center transformed into the gem we see today with its soaring riverfront atrium and a ballroom that is one of the city’s best venues.

The nonprofit Detroit Riverfront Conservancy built and manages the RiverWalk. Ditto the lively Campus Martius Park, built by another conservancy and managed today by the Downtown Detroit Partnership on behalf of the city. The Detroit Historical Museum, the Detroit Institute of Arts, the city’s workforce development agency, the Detroit Land Bank Authority, and, most controversially, Belle Isle itself, all improved, often dramatically, once spun off from direct city control into some new form of management.

Mina Powell of Southfield skips rope at Eastern Market before the 2018 Ford Fireworks in Detroit on Monday, June 25, 2018. Cameron Pollack, Cameron Pollack, Detroit Free Pr

And in this process, philanthropic foundations played a key role. The Community Foundation for Southeast Michigan has been a leader in building greenways like the Dequindre Cut. The Kresge Foundation contributed tens of millions of dollars to the RiverWalk and other efforts. The Ford Foundation was a lead contributor to the Grand Bargain that made the city’s trip through bankruptcy a success.

It would hard to imagine Detroit’s recent progress without the work of these and many other foundations. And the foundations weren’t the only nonprofits to take a leading role.

Neighborhood community development organizations like the Southwest Detroit Business Association, Eastside Community Network, U-Snap-Bac, and, perhaps most successfully, Midtown Detroit Inc. under its longtime leader Sue Mosey, led the recovery in their districts. These community groups and their staffers worked when no one else seemed to care, often for years, often alone.

And beginning in the early 2000s the city’s economy began to slowly evolve from the heavy-industry model of the past to a more entrepreneurial ecosystem. Entrepreneurship gave Detroiters a new path to remake their lives.

There was a former Chrysler line worker named April Anderson whose dream of becoming a baker led to Good Cakes and Bakes, one of the city’s leading suppliers of sweets. Roslyn Karamoko’s Detroit is the New Black apparel shop, the StockX sneaker exchange, and hundreds of other startups showed that there was indeed economic life in the city, after all.

Detroit’s municipal bankruptcy, and the 2010 move by Dan Gilbert of his Quicken Loans downtown, with Gilbert's rapid remaking of the downtown core, were major steps that have gotten a lot of the credit for the city's comeback to date. But I think we cannot underestimate the importance of the urban farmers, the spin-offs, the foundations, the neighborhood activists, and the entrepreneurs in reinventing Detroit.

Left: Michigan Central Station pictured on Feb. 25, 1998. Right: Michigan Central Station pictured on Nov. 18, 2019. J. Kyle Keener,Mandi Wright, Detroit Free Press

And along the way there were milestones of recovery once thought unattainable. Both the long-dormant Book-Cadillac Hotel and the defunct Michigan Central Station stood for years as international symbols of the city's failure. Both at times were recommended for demolition. But the Book-Cadillac reopened to fanfare in 2008 and Ford today is turning the train station into its future center of mobility research.

Setbacks aplenty

To be sure, the work has been long and tedious, beset by setbacks at every turn.

Rebuilding a city already built upon for 300 years means dealing with a legacy of debris just beneath the surface. When the Orleans Landing project by McCormack Baron Salazar on the riverfront east of the Renaissance Center started to dig foundations a few years ago, crews uncovered sewer lines that according to city maps shouldn’t have been there.

As another developer joked about his project building a medical warehouse in New Center, “We dug up everything but Jimmy Hoffa.”

Facing these and other challenges, almost every project takes longer than we think it should. When the Police Athletic League was planning what became the Willie Horton Field of Dreams at the site of the old Tiger Stadium, it discovered a regulation that a public playfield couldn’t be landlocked by other development on all sides as was planned for the perimeter of the site. So lawyers had to work out a solution to solve that problem. It worked, but the process that burned up several more weeks of time.

Problems so complex

Or take mortgage lending. Detroit is a city so financially broken that a normal mortgage market here almost didn’t exist until just recently. Thousands of houses do change hands each year, but mostly through cash sales or land contracts, a financially risky way for a buyer to get a home.

The dearth of market rate mortgages reflects the legacy of racism and redlining that scarred Detroit and many other older urban centers at mid-20th century. But even bankers who admitted their past mistakes and tried to infuse more capital into the mortgage system here found that it was no simple matter.

Show caption Hide caption With the Detroit skyline in the background, several empty lots sit on the corner of Park Ave and Sibley in the Cass Corridor. There... With the Detroit skyline in the background, several empty lots sit on the corner of Park Ave and Sibley in the Cass Corridor. There are still many undeveloped sites despite the empowerment zone being in Detroit since 1994. Eric Seals, Detroit Free Press

In Detroit, a potential buyer might have saved enough for a down payment but not enough for the repairs that would make a house move-in ready and eligible for a market-rate mortgage. Or an annual income that might support a mortgage in most cases might not be enough once student debt or child-care expenses were added to a borrower’s burden.

Low appraisals, lack of public transit for residents to get to jobs, food or housing insecurity — all these could hold back efforts to create a thriving mortgage market in the city.

As Janis Bowdler, president of the JPMorgan Chase Foundation, told me earlier this year, "As we've been sleeves rolled up, working in the community, we're learning over and over how multifaceted the challenge is. It's not just a supply of mortgage capital or a matter of producing enough credit-worthy borrowers. It's much more complex."

Working the problem

Detroit's mortgage lenders, and civic and nonprofit leaders, have worked hard to overcome these challenges. As they've counseled home-buyers and come up with innovative approaches to housing, the number of mortgage loans made in Detroit has been rising from almost none 10 years ago to more than 1,000 a year today. But clearly we still have a long way to go.

Earlier this year I wrote about Detroiter Jomica Miller, 43, a cashier working at 36th District Court. She had hoped to buy her parents' home after her father died but found it had been sold out from under them at the annual Wayne County tax foreclosure auction. She also found her past credit history presented a problem for lenders. She had student loans she was slowly paying off and a past bankruptcy on her record.

Jomica Miller stands in front of her house she recently purchased on Detroit's northwest side on Tuesday, March 12, 2019. Ryan Garza, Detroit Free Press

"I actually started my process in 2017," she said. "Nobody wanted to work with me because my credit was so bad. I didn't know where to start."

Through credit counseling and perseverance for more than a year, she eventually was able to buy a house in the Marygrove district on the city's northwest side with an FHA-backed mortgage. The house is one of four that were part of the Fitz Forward project that has gotten mortgages closed in the Fitzgerald neighborhood. Fitz Forward is the initiative led by Century Partners and The Platform to rehab houses in the district.

"I almost gave up, but I had some great people in my corner," she said. "Don't give up."

Grind it out

So if the problems are complex, so, too, are the solutions. A week ago Mayor Mike Duggan and other leaders announced a $10 million gift from the Ralph C. Wilson Jr. Foundation to the city’s Strategic Neighborhood Fund. The fund works in 10 specific neighborhoods on streetscape improvements, new and rehabbed housing, retail readiness and other improvements.

But if it sounded like a simple transfer of funds from the foundation to ready-to-go projects, it wasn’t. The money flows through Invest Detroit, a mission-based nonprofit lender that has worked overtime in recent years to generate new investment in the city’s neighborhoods. Speaking at the announcement, Dave Blaszkiewicz, president of Invest Detroit, noted that it took the coordinated efforts of multiple departments and agencies to make the work possible.

Without question, the complexity of the problems and the difficulty of coordinating solutions has held back Detroit’s efforts at recovery. But the good news — the really good news — is that Detroit in recent years has gotten so much better at working that magic.

Whether it’s city planners, the foundation staffs, bankers or neighborhood activists, more and more of these players have learned to reduce the barriers and make a complex system of investment work.

Try everything and keep trying

Does that system sometimes favor corporate interests to the detriment of ordinary Detroiters? Perhaps. Do we still sometimes see well-meaning efforts result in nothing much? Sure. Are there still problems that we have barely begun to touch? Certainly.

But the overall impact of Detroit’s recovery efforts — efforts by thousands of committed people working across a broad range of activities, from workforce training to urban farming to education and transit, these efforts have slowly inched Detroit forward. And the city is better for it.

Left: Book Cadillac pictured on June 18, 1998. Right: Book Cadillac pictured on February 11, 2015. Mary Schroeder,Ryan Garza, Detroit Free Press

There’s a saying that “nothing works but everything might.” It means that there is no silver-bullet solution to our problems. But if we work across a hundred different fields, making progress in each one, those efforts will add up to something greater than the sum of the parts. That’s the approach Detroit has taken and must continue to take.

There’s a story from the American Civil War that I like. A new regiment came up to the battlefront and its colonel asked the general commanding where they should go in. “Why, go in anywhere,” the general replied. “There is lovely fighting all along the line.”

And so in Detroit. If you want a to-do list to take away from this column, work on whatever holds your interest. We need progress on public safety and education, but we also need to work on transit and child care and vacant buildings and entrepreneurship and any of a hundred other fields. Take your pick, and get busy.

It’s a long and difficult task. But that shouldn’t faze a city with a gritty work ethic like Detroit's.

And so, onward

Detroit’s story is so varied, with so much conflicting evidence of progress or lack of it, that even today one can lean toward either optimism or despair. I choose hope. I believe with Dr. King that the arc of the moral universe is long but that it bends toward justice. And I hold with the message of Irish poet Seamus Heaney whose words about his homeland echo for me in Detroit:

History says, don't hope

On this side of the grave.

But then, once in a lifetime

The longed-for tidal wave

Of justice can rise up,

And hope and history rhyme.

So much work lies ahead of us. And in that task, I'll be there. Though I won’t be writing as a Free Press columnist, I will be writing about Detroit in other ways, and engaging in the life of this community in new ways yet to come. I’m looking forward to that.

See you around.

John Gallagher is a native of New York City who joined the Free Press in 1987 to cover urban and economic development. He is a resident of the city for many years. He is the author of several books including "Reimagining Detroit: Opportunities for Redefining an American City" and "Yamasaki in Detroit: A Search for Serenity." He was a 2017 inductee into the Michigan Journalism Hall of Fame.