Hey, peeps, didja know there was a time in Ypsi history when you didn't have to pay a dime for parking? It's true--and it's covered in my "From the Archives" column in today's Courier, which I hope you picked up/have a sub to like me. In case ya missed it, here's the text! Enjoy!
Ypsilanti’s Golden Age of Free Parking: 1900-1942From around the turn of the century, when a few cars began appearing on Ypsilanti streets (most of them unpaved), to WWII, when the streets faced an influx of Bomber Plant workers’ cars, parking in the city was free.
It just hadn’t occurred to anyone to charge for it.
During WWII, the Ypsilanti Salvage Committee held huge scrap metal and rubber drives. Housewives were even told to save pan drippings from roasted meats, for “scrap fat” used to make glycerine for the war effort. The entire city was economizing and doing without. Perhaps it was this atmosphere of frugal austerity that led the city to seek more sources of revenue.
“Ypsilanti’s 300 parking meters are today being installed and will go into effect at 9 a.m. Thursday,” announced the July 8, 1942 Ypsilanti Daily Press.
“Instructions for their use are found on the meters themselves. Cars may park for 12 minutes for one cent, 24 minutes for two cents, 36 minutes for 3 cents and 60 minutes for a nickel.” The metered time was 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. every weekday and 9 to 9 on Saturdays.
The paper went into detail about the workings of the mysterious meters. “The meters are automatic; only the insertion of a coin or coins being necessary to start meter operating. Deposit of the coin brings into view a clock face with hand ticking off the minutes. At the end of the allotted time the clock face and indicator drop from sight and patrolling officers can see that the car is illegally parked. . . Meters in Ypsilanti have been installed for a six months trial period. If found unsatisfactory at that time, they will be removed.”
In addition to the instructions printed on the meter and the newspaper’s explanation, “[b]ooklets explaining the use of meters are now being distributed at various business places about the city where motorists may secure them.”
The next day, the Press reported “[s]trange and interesting were the reactions of motorists this morning as they surveyed the city’s new parking meters.”
“Some walked slowly toward the meters, viewing them skeptically. Others tried not to look as foolish and inexperienced as they felt while reading instructions on the meter. The “old hands” walked with a confident stride, and in businesslike fashion inserted their coins and were on their way. And many were still either coldly surveying the machines and refusing ‘to play’ or else dashed off without so much as a look in the direction of the meters.”
Adoption of the meters was not immediate. “A check within the first hour that meters were in effect showed 21 violations out of 50 cars. Violations were by no means confined to side streets either, for a considerable number were counted on Michigan Ave. Even the nearness to the police station didn’t frighten some, for there was little legal-sounding ticking in meters in the same block as police headquarters.”
The city was abuzz with debate about the new machine, which “furnished a new topic for conversation. . . motorists were seen and heard discussing the relative merits of the new devices.”
A week and a half later, Chief of Police Dan Patch informed City Council that the meters were expected to bring in between $1,200 and $1,500 in July. Officer Perry Burrell was given the meter coin-collection beat, and soon gained meter savvy. The July 21 Press said, “[Burrell says] use old nickels in preference to new five cent pieces, as the old ones work better in the meters.”
Police Chief Dan Patch’s prediction was correct. By August, the meters had collected $1,648.78 in revenue. After deducting the cost of installation and Officer Burrell’s $180 per month salary, the meters netted the city $412.60 ($5,400 in today’s dollars).
Faced with this profit, city officials’ talk about removing the meters after 6 months vanished—and Ypsilantians have been digging into their pockets for coins ever since.
Almost 100 years ago, the ratio of Washtenaw residents to cars was 47 to one.
