Oh, The Places You Won't Go

    

     Detroit's Hurlbut Memorial Gate on East Jefferson was designed, 116 years ago, as a grand passageway from dingy streets to the tranquil green of the 110 acre Water Works Park.  Of course using the grounds of the city's main water-pumping facility as a public park turned out to be too much of an invitation for potential misfeasors.  After closing temporarily for both World Wars, it was finally closed, more-or-less for good, around 1951 despite protests.  In our new terrorist-age we accept this as a necessary solution to protecting our water supply while we demurely admire the Hurlbut Gate from outside a fence; knowing we'll always be forbidden from passing through its monumental archway and onto the great lawn beyond.  Even a 2007 restoration of the gate still didn't result in public access, despite the fact the water supply is a few hundred yards away. 

    This is one the oldest examples of fencing off or restricting access to a desirable piece of land, but there is no shortage of new examples.  Yes, Detroit has plenty of spare land; so much that Mark Twain, who once instructed: "Buy land, they're not making it anymore," could be forgiven for not envisioning the land factories of 21st century Detroit.  This still doesn't excuse the fact that Detroiters are constantly confronted with fences surrounding empty, vast acres of fields of nothing but grass and trees, or walls surrounding corporations or apartment building complexes who are able to acquire acres of adjacent property and use it as the modern equivalent of a moat.  The following is a look at a few, but by no means all, of these places, starting with the largest and most despicable area of restriction. 

    When Detroit finally opened it's river's edge to pedestrians, after a roughly 300-year hiatus, it was certainly a welcome development.  You could witness the whole psyche of the city changing along the new riverwalk as residents sought peace beside the gentle current.  And to think all this time we had denied ourselves this respite, as though we hadn't learned from the great river cities of the world.  Detroit, after-all, began and begins at the river.  It was even named for the river and it is here, beside this rippling azure ribbon, where you can stand on the edge of your city, the edge of your state and country even, and have your mind soothed.    That's what all the great river cities know.  They also know the secret nocturnal pleasures of the water and its reflecting capabilities, and this is why the Seine and Thames, for instance, don't close at ten o'clock every night.  

    The reason for the closing apparently has to do with mobs of teenagers who decided they would like to be in charge of the river.  Their terrorizing ways were combated with a ten o'clock closing of the river for everyone.  The police are now employed to close and guard entrances to the riverwalk because, it seems, their presence on the riverwalk itself is not enough to deter a teenager from breaking  laws.  Has our police force really lost that much authority?  And does the border patrol know about this?  Because the last I heard we didn't allow terrorists on our shores.  Detractors of our city often call for its entire annihilation, closing the river is a good start towards assuaging their rants.    

    Now, if you happen to have electricity where you dwell, it's likely you give money every month to DTE Energy.  If so, you'll be happy to know they've managed to use some of this money to build one of the city's newest and most unique parks right next to their downtown headquarters.  As a customer of theirs maybe you'd like to take a stroll through this hilly landscape and see what your money has bought.  Sorry, you're not that appreciated.  Remember, if any business can take their customer for granted it's the power company.  This park wasn't built for you, it was built for the DTE employees.  Besides, if you've ever been to a public Detroit park you know, for the most part, they have been ceded to bums, so this park uses a surefire method to keep the bums out: it's always locked.  Yep, you paid for the lock too, good job. 

     The aerial view of DTE's park shows the latest in park technology employed to prevent the park from being used or even seen.   On the two sides which border the streets where you and I, the filthy customers, might walk, there is a short brick wall beyond which is planted a double row of tall shrubbery.  The double shrub line is an obvious nod to the effectiveness of the double, barbed-wire-topped walls of a maximum security prison.  Through the thick foliage you can barely make out the final barrier which is a six-foot tall iron fence.  It's kind of like a pocket park with a pocket protector.

   

    It's such a shame to see this park go unused; it would be satisfying just to see a DTE employee enjoy it on their lunch break so we knew our money at least left one person gruntled.

    The most curious fenced-off areas are those which contain only natural elements.  There is so much land behind the main post office, right there on the river, that even if it were swarming with terrorists, delinquent teenagers and bums you could still throw a Frisbee around without being bothered by any of them.  And yet, this vast patch of grass is surrounded by chain-link fence.

 

    Signs near this site say it will be part of the "future expansion of the Detroit International Riverfront, including RiverWalk, plazas, pavilions, parks and more."   These signs have said this for almost two years.  Meanwhile, what would be an ideal site for the country's only downtown campground if it just had a few more trees, is off limits to everyone lest the grass gets trampled and hinders the plans for more concrete paths.  I'm probably not the first to notice that it's impossible to expand the Detroit International Riverfront; this has been the Detroit International Riverfront since at least 1837 when Michigan became part of the United States.

    These are just a few of many sites which are off-limits in Detroit.  I've written earlier about The Plaza of Wishful Thinking downtown, we can add to the list "The Parking Lots of Dashed Hopes" between Porter and Lafayette just west of Sixth Street,  there's also the walled compound of Brewery Park off Gratiot.  Thankfully they have given up trying to lock the former Tiger Stadium site, so the opportunity persists for you to not only walk where every great baseball player once played, but also risk a trespassing violation. 

Aerial photo captured from Google Earth