posted on June 29, 2010 07:28

By Joe Borgstrom, Director
Specialized Technical Assistance
& Revitalization Strategy Division
Michigan State Housing Development Authority
A funny thing hit me the other day. I was reading an article about a group that was opposing the demolition of a building in a historic part of their town. The funny thing wasn’t the protest or even the demolition. For some reason the thought of the demolition of part of Genesee Valley Shopping Center a few years ago jumped in my head. “Genesee Valley” was the mall my family went to growing up. It is located in Flint Township and among other times, I remember loading the entire family up at Christmas time to do the annual family outing.
A few years ago they built a new free-standing restaurant that looks a lot like the kind that’s being built at the new lifestyle centers. In order to do that, they had to knock down a pretty good chunk of the old mall. My honest response at the time was that I thought it was a sad and desperate attempt by the mall to remain relevant. Kind of like the person who pursues every plastic surgery to hang on to their looks instead of aging gracefully. What struck me as funny was the fact that no one protested or even had a negative thing to say. I don’t recall any letters to the editor or people chaining themselves to the aging structure. Why is that? Why, on one hand will people literally chain themselves to buildings to prevent their demolition, and on the other be met with complete apathy?
Why is there a national movement to restore historic downtowns but nothing to save dying malls? To an entire generation, the mall, in essence, has been our downtown. We had our pictures taken with Santa, hung out there as teenagers, spent numerous dates at the megaplex, rented our hideous prom tuxedos, and probably bought our first tie there. Any Gen Xer who has seen "Mall Rats" can identify. So why did I (and I assume many others) simply not care when part of my youth met the wrecking ball? (Ok, so it wasn’t the whole mall that was knocked down, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I probably wouldn’t care if they had razed the whole thing.) Do I not have a sense of nostalgia? No, that’s not it. I still care about the downtown in my hometown of Holly. I care what happens there, though I spent far less time and money than in the mall. Why is that?
On the surface, it seems almost hypocritical. And it is, until you realize it’s about the people and their history. When you went to Chess King (anyone remember that one?) at the mall and bought a shirt, someone you didn’t know waited on you, the money went to some company whose owner you never saw in a place that was aesthetically sterile and owned by some company somewhere else. It was a transaction, plain and simple. Not evil or immoral, just business.
Meanwhile, when I was a kid and went to McKay’s Hardware in downtown Holly, I remember the people and how friendly they were and how they knew where everything was and the wall of Little League team photos from sponsoring at least ten years worth of teams. I remember the store taking up three storefronts and was a virtual labyrinth with nooks and crannies filled with hardware treasures. There was more than stuff there. There was a staff who knew what you meant when you said, “that hook with the little thingy at the end.” There was adventure as you explored the store and a friendly face at the counter who told you to have a good day and meant it.
The mall was the scene of, well, the mall. Downtown Holly was the scene of a 100+ years of people living. People lived above their shops, people passed through on trains, we gathered at many of the churches to get married, baptize our children and said our final goodbyes to loved ones. All of our parades went through downtown, Mac’s Pharmacy had an old fashioned soda shop, famed prohibitionist Cary Nation swung her ax through the row of bars and saloons that earned the nickname “Battle Alley” for its number of brawls, and we had street dances where we weren’t expected to buy anything, just have a good time. Did we buy things downtown? Sure. But it wasn’t its sole purpose, like malls.
Maybe we care about downtowns more because they're made up of our neighbors and not a big corporate entity. Maybe we identify with the fact almost every building is different and is owned by someone doing their own thing. Maybe we just root for the underdog. Maybe we see a little bit of ourselves in all of those things and downtowns connect us to them.
Maybe we see their potential as our own.
Why do people at large care more about downtowns than malls? Downtowns aren’t just about transactions, they’re about life.