



...An Exploration of the Ypsilanti Archives
Part of a year-long weekly series of excerpts from Ypsilanti teenager Allie McCullough's 1874 diary, from the last year of her life.
The Huron Hotel was built in 1923 with money raised from residents of Ypsilanti via the sale of $200,000 worth of stock. Here's the stock certificate you would have received had you been one of the investors.
Atwood was the son of Atwood McAndrew Sr., who with Thomas McAndrew ran the Mack and Mack furniture store on Michigan Avenue. It appears that this block of 12 shares was purchased on November 18, 1957 and sold on February 7, 1967. This surprised Dusty D because as far as she knew the only sale of stock occurred in 1923, but apparently sales of stock continued after the initial fundraising. 

Here's a piece of Huron Hotel history; a menu from its 1980-1989 restaurant, Woodruff's Grove. The cute bit of this restaurant is that the menu choices are themed, with names reflecting tidbits from Ypsilanti history. Dusty Diary's favorite is "Asa Dow's Crab Legs." I can just imagine him saying, "I BEG your pardon!"
During the Depression, the Huron Hotel (here called Hotel Huron; both names were used through the years) was one of the few hotels in Michigan to stay open and successful. Here is what you could choose for dinner in November of '31.
This is neato mosquito, a menu cover from the Hotel Huron in 1961 (click any image for larger version).
Here you can see the downtown hotel at Washington and Pearl. You can see the buildings on the north side of Pearl between Washington and Huron. There's the Grand Army of the Republic Hall, which of course is still standing. One Yank and one Reb are having a shootout in front. Next door, at the Huron corner, is the onetime Ypsilanti Press building.
In the cartoon's upper left corner, you can see the water tower and the onetime location of the business school.
In the lower left corner, you can see a box extolling the features of the hotel. Dusty D likes "TV and Radios" especially. And a fire-resistant building is always a plus. I wonder if they meant they'd installed asbestos.
Last, here's a shot of Depot Town. You can see the Streicher murder house at Cross and Huron with the old poultry barn behind it, which did exist there for many years.
Dusty D picked up a lot of interesting ephemera during research for my last Ann Arbor Chronicle article about the Huron Hotel (Centennial Center). I'll be posting some of these cool items over the next few days as time permits. Here is a floor plan on the first floor of the hotel, labeled with a date that appears to be 1936 (possibly 1986, hard to tell; the lettering font suggests the former, does it not?). It's not much different from the original floor plan of 1923.
Part of a year-long weekly serialization of Ypsilanti high school math teacher Carrie Hardy's diary.
Part of a year-long weekly series of excerpts from Ypsilanti teenager Allie McCullough's 1874 diary, from the last year of her life.
I see that if I am to have any chance at all at stymieing you-all, I'll have to delve into my "Photos of the Lost" collection. All right then. Here's an old crenellated-tower beauty of a--whoops, almost said it. Where and what was this? This is pretty obscure, so I'll be impressed if anyone guesses this correctly. Good luck; answer next Wednesday!

Part of a year-long weekly serialization Jan. 9of Ypsilanti high school math teacher Carrie Hardy's diary.
1906 was an exciting year in Ypsilanti. The city council debated erecting a power plant for municipal lighting. The Detroit News lambasted the town for allowing the Lewis "Horse Exchange," a Depot Town pool room and gambling spot, to remain open. And, announced the February 8 Ypsilanti Daily Press, of the roughly 8,000 residents, 325 were connected to telephone service (4% of all residents).
Discriminating people like you recognized the recent craze for Blended Squirrel for what it was--a silly fad. A showy, silly, fad. And not very nice--squirrels don't like to be blended. You knew that all along.
One local resident sent out an email asking if anyone knew where this plaque is. Dusty D does not know. Might some clever reader know? Looks like the plaque needs a tad bit of maintenance! Hmm, who can pinpoint it?!
Sore fingers. Penetrating pain. Stiff joints. Reader, haven't you put up with enough? You deserve better. Chuck those soggy old mittens out and treat yourself to a nice new muff.
Part of a year-long weekly series of excerpts from Ypsilanti teenager Allie McCullough's 1874 diary, from the last year of her life.
So Dusty D got out her lovely Berol colored pencils, color-coded the material categories, scanned and cropped a map, and contentedly colored all evening. Er, for research! Research! While admiring the French names, printed in
gold, on the pencils: vert pre, bleu ciel, lavande, ocre orange, brun dore.
INTERESTING BITS: As you can see, downtown Ypsi had a heart of gold. Gold signifies brick pavement. You can still see a tiny remnant of this brick on the east side of Huron just south of City Hall. Look at the sidewalk. The brick sidewalk is well over 70 years old.
Road Mix is a technique of roadmaking whereby existing gravel is scraped up, mixed with tar or bitumen, and reapplied to the road surface. Sometimes new gravel is used to mix in.
Yet another item of note (we could talk about this all day, couldn't we? Sure!) is that the most common form of road surfacing in 1937 is Dust Layer. This is basically a dirt road sprayed with a thick oil to control dust. There were quite a few City Council meetings back then involving wrangles over where to oil the roads and who gets to have oiled roads, and one meeting when one councilman was accused of oiling the road his house was on, at the expense of needier roads.
Wouldn't it be nice though completely impractical to restore Ypsilanti's beautiful brick-paved heart? Bet you dollars to doughnuts all those bricks are atill right under there, just waiting for a brighter economic climate. They've likely been preserved quite well. Not all the brickage is on the map, due to the aforementioned problem of multi-material streets. And I put a dotted gold line on Washington between Michigan Ave and Ferris--that seems like the logical choice, and I know Washington had one more block of brick, but I wasn't sure if it were north or south of the brick Peal-Michigan ave. section.
So if you were driving around town in the late Depression, you faced a constant kaleidoscope of ever-shifting road surfaces in a system cobbled (heh) together since the town's beginnings.
Would you like to read about an Ypsilanti teen who in 1885 predicted the Internet?
- 6 city streets with bridges over the Huron River (Superior, Leforge, Forest, Cross, Michigan, Spring)
So much for stumping readers with the merest wisp of a clue: the onetime name of a vanished settlement, Carpenter's Corners. Wysten and Joan both guessed it correctly: Carpenter and Packard (click for larger image).
Joan added some additional interesting information: "I agree with Mr. Stevens, because of the Carpenter reference but also the reference to Leverett's. When I first moved to AA over 40 years ago there was a Leverett's home, market, etc.on Packard near Carpenter."
Here's a 1931 ad from the Ypsilanti Daily Press. It's from Hopkins and Augustus, a shop then at 30 N. Washington, the current? (former?) meeting spot of the DDA.
Part of a year-long weekly serialization of Ypsilanti high school math teacher Carrie Hardy's diary.
Here's a cool video of the upcoming AA-Detroit commuter rail plan! SEMCOG says it's scheduled to be in operation in October of 2010!
Part of a year-long weekly series of excerpts from Ypsilanti teenager Allie McCullough's 1874 diary, from the last year of her life.