Coleman A. Young (1918 - 1997)

 

Modern legend for Motown

Larger than life, he never lost touch with his roots.

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12/3/97

"I once visited a classroom on a career day talking about careers in government, and talking about the different branches of government. When I said the governor of the state is in charge of the whole state, a kid interrupted me and said, 'No! Coleman Young is in charge of everybody!' That's the sense of empowerment that he embodied."

Llenda Jackson Leslie, a city employee from 1984 to 1992

Joe Louis, Henry Ford, Berry Gordy.

Legends are hard to come by. Particularly folk legends. Someone who rises from the masses to become larger than life yet seems to maintain an identification with the community that spawned him. Someone about whom can be said, "He done us proud."

Ronald Reagan had it. George Herbert Walker Bush didn't.

Coleman Young was a folk hero. He was of the people and for the people of Detroit. Young grew up in Detroit's Black Bottom slum and he never entirely left it behind. He earned his stripes fighting for civil rights and workers' rights. He was a Tuskegee Airman who had served his country and had every right to tell the House Un-American Activities Committee where to get off.

Young became a state senator. Then served as mayor of Detroit for 20 years. Yet no matter how many expensive suits or drivers he had, there was an earthiness. He openly spoke the views that black men stated in the safety of their homes but could never voice in public.

That frankness helped Young rise to the top in Detroit -- and was one of his greatest flaws once he got there. Young had his flaws, but so does everyone. Ford had well-publicized flaws. As does Gordy. The two-edged sword of fame demands that when you are good, you are very, very good, and when you are bad, you are atrocious.

But for good or bad, legend Young was, and legend he shall remain.

Many tales have been told about Coleman Young in the past few days. And many more will be told -- both north and south of Eight Mile Road. Here's one from former Michigan ACLU Director Howard Simon about a mid-'80s meeting between Young, the ACLU, Young's press secretary Bob Berg, then-NAACP President Rev. Charles Adams and Dearborn Mayor Mike Guido:

"In the depths of the Dearborn parks case, there was a last-minute effort to try to negotiate things before they got even worse with the boycotts, marches and demonstrations. I remember being in a top-floor hotel room in the Omni Hotel (now the Doubletree).

"There were a lot of characteristics of Coleman Young and I saw a different one that day: He could charm the pants off of anybody. He cajoled and charmed Mike Guido into all sorts of concessions. He convinced him that the situation wasn't good for Detroit, it wasn't good for southeast Michigan.

"He said: 'Mike, we gotta work this out.' I'd seen the vitriolic Coleman Young, I'd seen the bitter Coleman Young, I'd seen the politically divisive Coleman Young. But on that day, I saw the charming Coleman Young -- the diplomat, the irresistible, the charming Coleman Young who nobody could say no to.

"People need to know that he could be -- in small groups and one-on-one -- a brilliant negotiator, a brilliant tactician and a charming man. This is a part of him which is not widely appreciated. I'll never forget that."

People loved him. People loved to hate him. There is little neutrality where Coleman Young is concerned. The following Metro Times coverage tells some of the stories -- some public, some personal -- that made Young the legend he is.

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