HIGHLAND PARK, Mich. (WXYZ) — To tell the story of Highland Park is to tell a tale of two cities.
There is the Highland Park that gave birth to the assembly line and forged the middle class, with schools and hospitals and homes that were the envy of the world.
“They had everything,” recalls Dorothy Harris Grigsby, a longtime business owner. “I used to dream that I’m going to move there one day.”
And there's the Highland Park we know today: its factories empty and schools long- shuttered. Prosperity exists only as a memory.
“I remember Highland Park, what it was,” said longtime resident Eban Morales. “They had something to be proud of once. But not anymore.”
During the automotive boom time of the 1930s, more than 50,000 people lived in Highland Park.Today, fewer than 9,000 residents remain.
“You beat down a person for so long that they give up hope, their dreams die, their hope is destroyed,” said Lorne McGee, who’s lived here since 2000. “That’s what the City of Highland Park has done.”
McGee, who also serves on the district's school board, has grown frustrated watching the progress spread all along Woodward Avenue, he says—everywhere but here.
“You see it from downtown Detroit to Midtown,” McGee said, “but when it gets to Highland Park, it leapfrogs. You see Ferndale developing, you see Berkley developing…I want Highland Park to ask: what are we not doing?"
Automotive boom and bust
The city tied its fortunes to the auto industry, first to Ford Motor Company and then Chrysler. But as quickly as the jobs came, they disappeared seemingly overnight.
In 1992, Chrysler announced it was relocating its headquarters to Auburn Hills, triggering a cascade of other departures throughout the city.
The situation became so dire that city leaders and Wayne County officials formed a committee to try to soften the blow.
“The city is facing the reality of losing 57% of its job base,” then-Wayne Conty Executive Ed McNamara said at the time. “A total of 8,500 jobs.”
Today, what remains is a fraction of the once proud city.
“If you look at Highland Park’s population in 2021, it’s less than it was in 1910,” said Kurt Metzger, the founder of Data Driven Detroit.
“Ford left, Chrysler left…and we’ve just seen that continuous degradation when you don’t have the population, you don’t have the tax base, the vacant housing.”
What remains is a standard of living that would not be allowed anywhere along Woodward Avenue but here.
The city’s library—long a jewel in the center of town—has been closed for twenty years. All but one school in the district is shuttered.
There hasn’t been a public high school here for seven years.
“Where do kids in Highland Park go to high school?” asked Channel 7’s Ross Jones.
“They go to Ferndale, they go to Hamtramck, River Rouge,” said city council member Ken Bates. "They go to Detroit Community Schools.”
There has been no new housing built in Highland Park for nearly a decade. 1,500 vacant lots dot the city’s 2.9 square miles—lots the city doesn’t maintain, according to residents like McGee.
Lights out
During Detroit’s darkest days, it was often said: “Would the last person to leave please turn out the lights?”
The lights have long been out in Highland Park. In 2011, DTE pulled 1,400 light poles straight from the ground after the city failed to pay its bills.
“I leave out of here in the wintertime at night, and I have a CCW,” said Dorothy Harris Grigsby, who owns Shep’s Barber and Beauty Shop. “I have to have my weapon in my hand because you can’t see anything.”
Grigsby’s uncle founded Shep’s 78 years ago, passing it down to her.
“If your uncle walked through the door right now, would he recognize this city?” Jones asked.
“Oh, Lord no,” Grigsby replied. “We are the only business left in Highland Park on Hamilton. There’s no more businesses down this way.”
On almost every block, you’ll find burned out buildings left to rot. The cost to knock them down is just too high.
“I’m looking at some of the same buildings that were vacant, dilapidated when I moved here 22 years ago,” said Lorne McGee. “When it seems like the administration is powerless…how do you think the citizens feel?”
To turn its troubles around, the city needs its leaders pulling in the same direction. But the mayor and council have long been at odds, and public meetings quickly turn into spectacles.
The constant feuding takes its toll on the city’s image, said councilman Ken Bates.
“People aren’t as inclined to donate their resources if they see you struggling with your day-to-day basic functions, it’s just that simple,” he said. “They need to trust that you will expend those resources appropriately.”
The city has already had three different emergency managers, with some fearing a fourth is on the way after an August court of appeals ruling that ordered the city to pay a $21 million debt over unpaid water bills.
“How in the world is the city going to pay off that debt?” Jones asked.
“I don’t know,” Bates replied. “I know what could happen. Bankruptcy, the tax rolls having to absorb that cost, oversight by the state.”
Then this month, Lorne McGee finally had enough. After 22 years of fighting and failing to bring his city back, he resorted to the only thing he hadn’t tried.
He had two signs made, reading: “Highland Parkers deserve better" and “Poor leadership destroys cities.”
Drive through town, and you might see him leading a one-man protest of what his city has become.
“It’s gotten to a point where people don’t even realize they deserve better, because they think this is just the way that it is,” he said.
“They don’t remember when Highland Park was a better city.”
Contact 7 Investigator Ross Jones at ross.jones@wxyz.com or at (248) 827-9466.
