About Saint Clair Shores, MI

Waiting in line to vote during the 2004 presidential election at an elementary school in Saint Clair Shores, Michigan, where I live, I overheard a man and a woman talking about what it "used to be like" when they were growing up in Saint Clair Shores. The two were about sixty or so and had both gone to the local high school. They discussed the several restaurants and hang outs where they used to go--all of which are now gone. My ears perked up because I had just been learning about historical Saint Clair Shores. I was about to ask them some questions, and introduce myself, when one said to another, "Kids these days don't have fun like we used to. They just go to the mall." They went on to discuss how kids "these days" also lack morals. Neither of them would want to be a teacher of young people "in these times." It seemed to me that the young of Saint Clair Shores no longer go to the places where these older citizens of the town once went because the places no longer exist. However, this man and woman reflected on the behavior of the youth, and the youth's lack of interest in such places, as a reason for the youth's diverted interests. After a short investigation of contemporary and historic Saint Clair Shores, I learned that indeed many of its original places of entertainment are no longer around. The attitude of these elder citizens suggest several things not only about Saint Clair Shores but places like them--who is "welcomed" by a place, and the rituals possible because of it, are good measurements of a community's values. These values can be complicated, however, by change that is sometimes out of their control as a city develops and adapts to changes.

About Saint Clair Shores

Saint Clair Shores, Michigan, a suburb of Detroit located on Lake Saint Clair, is now known as the boating capital of the world. Prior to World War II it was a summer resort community, peopled by the wealthy who sought out the cool breezes of the lake. (Imagine life before air conditioning and rich people in elaborate clothing who likely abhorred sweating). Evidence of its historical culture and its beginnings as a village in the 1920s still exist. It once was the home of a popular amusement park with a swimming beach, called Jefferson Beach, which was built in 1927. At one time this amusement park had the largest roller coaster in the country, and a ballroom (Krause 8). Such amusement parks were popular in America at the time, and were often located strategically at the end of streetcar lines in metro areas--to encourage ridership. The Jefferson Park amusement park closed in 1957, two years after a large fire (Simek). The loss of this theme park symbolizes other lost public space for the this city. For some sad and disappointed citizens this loss is marked, for example, by the city's decision to allow an enormous square footage of its public land to be annexed by nearby Grosse Pointe Woods for a park. Thus, although living on a lake, Saint Clair Shores citizens rarely see it. Small glimpses of blue typifies the view of Lake Saint Clair for the average citizen.

A view of Jefferson Beach and its Amusement Park (Saint Clair Shores Historical Commission).

		The fire at Jefferson Beach.
		This is one of city's small lake front parks. but do you see the lake? No one can, except for those who live on it, or own a boat, and can access the park's boat docks which obstruct a lake view. Former resident Walt Ruch explains the situation as thus, "The [city's] only natural masterpiece, Lake St. Clair, is hidden form residents' view by miles of marinas, filled with thousands of boats, owned by non-residents."

As my neighbors and partners in voting pointed out, Saint Clair Shores has changed a lot in the past several decades. In the place of Jefferson Park today are boat docks and condos. This area on the lake is currently in proximity to a center for eating and entertainment known as the Nautical Mile, which boasts several restaurants and where there is often free and live entertainment. Some of these restaurants, like the Beach Grill, which is closed in the winter, can be reached by boat.

Saint Clair Shores’ biggest growth came about after World War II when many of its sub divisions were built. At the peak of its population boom over 93,000 people lived in the suburb (St. Clair Shores 8). By 2000, 63, 096 people lived in the surburb. It’s a relatively affluent but primarily blue collar community in the sense that only 18.1% of its citizens have bachelor’s degrees, although 84.4% have graduated from high school. The median family income is $59, 245. Contrast these facts with its neighboring surburb, Grosse Pointe Woods, which is a bit more affluent. In Grosse Pointe Woods, 51.2 % of its citizens have at least a bachelor’s degree and and the median income is $89, 086. Race wise Saint Clair Shores is a relatively homogeneous community. Most of the people living there are white. Less than 6% of its citizens are non-white (Fact Sheet).

A year after I moved back to Michigan in 2002, after living in Illinois for twelve years, I bought a house in Saint Clair Shores (henceforth referred to as SCS). My house is relatively typical of the houses in the city. It was built during the city’s major growth spurt, in 1958.

		All of the houses on this street, mine, were built in the 1950s and are about the same size, 1100 square feet. Because much of the suburb was mass developed in the 1950s Dolores Hayden might call it a "Sitcom Suburb"because of this growth spurt in the 50s. However, SCS has characteristics of several types of suburbs.
		Saint Clair Shores is rumored to have the most 711s per capita--enabling one SCS man to believe quite reasonably that he sets the national record for the most Slurpees consumed.

What Sets SCS Apart in My Opinion?

While many of the houses in SCS are like mine—one story bungalows built in the 1950s--this "sameness" is broken up by the overall variety of housing stock. There are very small houses but also quite large ones, most of which are on the lake or on the city’s several canals which spill into the lake. Thus, because the houses reflect a population of "haves," "have nots" and "just folks," it has the feel of a small town rather than a typical suburb where similar housing might reflect the homegeneity of suburban life. Because of its location near water, and the presence of boats and boat dealers, it retains the feel of a resort community, its historical identity. Thus, although not a diverse place racially, the place is welcoming to socieoeconomic diversity because of its relatively affordable housing. part of my thesis!

Is Saint Clair Shores a Messed Up Town? Has Kunstler Forgotten Something?

James Kunstler argues that towns become "messed up" when automobiles are accommodated at the expense of pedestrians and "civic life in general" (134-35). Hence, Saint Clair Shores is relatively "messed up" according to Kunstler. First, although it has several large parks, some of its civic space, such as the aforementioned Jefferson Park, has been replaced by private homes. Moreover, its hot spots accommodate cars and boats rather than people. It does not have a real downtown where people can walk and shop. For the most part, it is not very pedestrian friendly. While a person might enjoy a night on the town on the Nautical Mile, as my good friend, a teacher in SCS has put it--"The Nautical Mile would be cool, but it is not walkable." People who want to go "bar hopping" on a Saturday night, and enjoy the variety of free entertainment at the various restaurants, cannot get from venue to venue on foot because there are no bridges across the canals. They also have to take their lives into their hands crossing a busy street, Jefferson. Never mind the fact that one might get from place via boat--not relevant to the "have nots" and "just folks" without them. (118). I remind readers of my developing thesis with key words. Thus, again, SCS--enables rituals that require either driving or boating, not walking. So it is not necessarily welcoming to those who lack private transportation.

Newer houses on one of the canals near the city's marina and pool.		An advertisement for a happening at a Nautical Mile restaurant.		Stores at Nine Mile and Mack Avenue in Saint Clair Shores, the closest thing to a downtown the city has.

Historic Harper Avenue. Overall, I hypothesize that SCS avoided much of the sprawl of newer suburbs because its roads were developed before "big boxes" became the norm.

Sites of Resistance

Another point I want to make!While SCS could be more civic and pedestrian friendly, there is evidence of what I call "sites of resistance" to the sameness Kinstler associates with suburbs, what he calls "the geography of nowhere." Some of Saint Clair Shores' history, and one might argue its spirit, has been preserved. Its beginnings as a summer resort community for rich people and boaters, and its historical growth spurt in the 1950s, is maintained by several family-owned restaurants--such as the several walk-up ice cream places that are only open seasonally.The rest of my thesis! These restaurants, that I will discuss next, reflect the suburb's small town ethos and act as "memory keepers" of its past as a summer resort town, thus challenging the geography of nowhere. They enable rituals of yesteryear that have not been entirely replaced by new developments like "the mall." They last reflect the nostalgia I recognized in the comments made by the elder citizens of SCS with whom I waited to vote, a point I'll return to later.

Ice Cream Stories--Evidence of Resistance and Resilience

The ice cream stores that continue to thrive and dot the landscape of SCS’s main drags, Harper Avenue and Jefferson were likely built in the 1950s and 1960s when, according to John Jakle and Keith Sculle, Dairy Queens were built across the nation. Many other ice cream stores were built to mimic the “outdoor walk up style” of Dairy Queens (186-89). It’s possible that many of the ice cream stores that remain in SCS were once Dairy Queens that were later bought by independent entrepreneurs. One resident of SCS, in fact, recalls that a current restaurant, now named the Cold Cow, was once a Dairy Queen (McKean). Also, the “Country Fresh,” ice cream store that is about a mile from my house reflects the “Country Fresh” design adopted by Dairy Queens in the 1960s. According to Jake and Sculle, this design, like the restaurant that remains in Saint Clair Shores is characterized by “red, all-aluminum, front facing gambrel roofs. . . reminiscent of the class red barn of America’s heartland” (Jake and Sculle 187).

	Country Fresh restaurant, the place that gave me the idea to write this essay. The restaurant used to be part of a now obviously defunct restaurant chain called 'The Red Barn' (Ruch).
	The Cold Cow which used to be a Dairy Queen (McKean).

I got the idea about writing about my these ice cream stores after looking around SCS after reading Kunstler's book but had been thinking about these stores in SCS all last summer. Not an ice cream fan, I nevertheless had gotten in the habit of getting my lunch at Country Dairy where I could get a tuna sandwich, a pickle and a pop for less than $3.00. When doing so--yes, it was a plus--I did not need to get out of my car because the restaurant is a drive through. I felt like I was experiencing history when I went to the restaurant. There were no fancy microphones to talk into when placing my order. I simply spoke with the person behind the window and waited--sometimes a while. Lucky for my research, however, one of these ice cream places, Wally's, located around the corner from me, remained open until October 31st last fall when I first started my research. So I was able to talk to its recent owners, Eliza and Matt. Wally's is actually a few yards outside of Saint Clair Shores, in the suburb of Harper Woods. Eliza agreed that ice cream stores like Wally's are attractive to customers because they offer inexpensive food as well as a mini-trip down memory lane. One Wally's customer actually wanted a piece of its old-style fence so she could take it with her when she moved. I have also talked to the owner of the Dairy Queen pictured above. Like Country Fresh and Wally's this Dairy Queen is family-owned, and has been for several generations. In fact, all three restaurants were owned originally by women. Recently, the SCS Dairy Queen has acted as a kind of meeting place when the owner put a cup out for donations to the family of a young man who was wounded in Iraq, raising hundreds of dollars.

Conclusion?

Eliza and Matt also own a coffee shop, The Galley, near the Saint Clair Shores Library. The Galley, like the ice cream walk-ups under discussion, could be regarded as a "'third space'," a setting beyond home and work ("the 'first' and 'second places respectively") according to Ray Oldenberg (2). While a discussion of the Galley as a third place is someone else's paper, I think that--like the ice cream stores under discussion--its current popularity reinforces my theory why small-owned family restaurants like the ice cream stores in SCS survive. According to the Eliza, folks who live in SCS would rather have service than a brand. Thus, the persistence of ice cream stores in SCS is evidence of an ideology and also a history that resists development. While more pedestrian-friendly culture would makes a place like SCS a "somewhere," its material culture suggests a sense of an identity that resists the homogeneity Kunstler associates with American suburbs generally. These ice cream places particularly enable rituals that are unique to the place's history. Its diverse housing stock is also inviting to people from a variety of incomes, which also contributes to the small town feeling that Kunstler deems missing from contemporary suburbs. At the same time the modest homes that give the place charm are, in some places, being torn down and replaced with mansions that compete with the town's historic architecture marked by modest cottages.

Nostalgia like Kunstler's may preserve some of a community's identity--as with these ice cream places and Eddie's drive-in. Memory, and a conscious effort to maintain local "flavor," so to speak, may also circumvent sprawl and unwanted development. As Dolores Hayden argues, "Conserving the physical character of older suburban places can begin with local history as a way to engage citizens with the political process necessary to support physical planning and building" (243). Nostalgia can have a dark underbelly. Nostalgia, which in effect idealizes yesteryear, can prohibit critical thinking about place. Former resident of Saint Clair Shores, Walt Ruch, for example, remembers his 1950s teenhood in Saint Clair Shores with fondness, particularly since he was lucky enough to have a boat and access to nearby lakefront parks in Grosse Pointe because of a girlfriend. However, he also recalls a lack of diversity in his former high school community, along with unquestioned racial segregation. Nostalgia also sets utopia in the past, leaving contemporary citizens theoretically helpless to change the present or imagine a better future. The clientele of the Galley, elderly citizens, also suggests that the youth of Saint Clair Shores lack a third space--not because they are immoral, not because they're at the mall, but because the community has destroyed or has failed to create new civic or recreational spaces to particularly attract or serve them. It could be that the youth do not need places to go in the same way as their elders. However, discussions with the college-aged students in my courses suggests an overall lack of third spaces for teenagers generally. Coming soon: more on this idea! Writers are rarely done; they just have deadlines.