The Young Ladies Of Brainard Street-The Librarian's Sister

Last month, while writing about a turn-of-the century Detroit woman painter, I became intrigued by several other unknown women, a tightly woven circle of historians, friends, and librarians, connected by their common interests. For more than twenty-five years, one of these women, Gracie Brainerd Krum, had the title of "Chief" of Detroit's history.

When I wrote about the painter, I was lucky to find that she and all her relatives were prolific letter writers, from prominent families. Troves of letters had been saved, full of detail, with no thought of whether they would be reread by strangers.

Writing about these women who are librarians and historians seems different. In reviewing their papers, one senses they've already edited what's left behind in the dusty boxes. They have chosen what they want remembered, without thinking of themselves as an important part of the story. For them, I wade through sheaves of official correspondence, intricate genealogies, and painstaking copies they made of other people's lives, but their quirks, their sense of humor, their uniqueness... they hover in the shadows. This makes the personal papers Gracie B. Krum saved especially poignant.

One the greatest assets of the Detroit Public Library is its Burton Historical Collection. Gracie grew up in the shadow of the Burton Historical Collection. From 1897 till 1905, she lived at 25 Brainard Street, next door to Clarence M. Burton, businessman and famed collector of manuscripts and documents relating to early Detroit. He would go on to write a history of Detroit that is an indispensable starting point for any researcher. Long before the stately, monumental Detroit Public Library that we know today was built in the new cultural center, Burton had a fire-proof room built in his home on Brainard to protect his collection. His daughter, Mary Agnes, the less known historian in the family, worked night and day editing all of her father's works, and writing books and articles on her own. Mary Agnes was just about the same age as Gracie.

In the photo above, Gracie is 23 years old. Her family had just moved to Detroit from New York the previous year. Her father founded what would become the Detroit Rubber Company, wholesalers of new-fangled rubber footwear. He is standing at the foot of the porch, to our left. Her grandfather is on the right, and her mother is on the porch in front of the window.

The little girls are her sister Elsie, and and a girl named Juliet (next to the sled). It is February 22, 1898.

After this photo, Gracie taught in the Detroit Public Schools, became a librarian at the DPL, began to assist Mr. Burton and Mary Agnes with their collection, and then, from 1916 till 1941, was in charge of the Burton Historical Collection in its new home at the grand building on Woodward.

But Gracie's accomplished future awaits. Today, the Krum family has just recently enjoyed their first Christmas in Detroit. Elsie wrote a letter to Santa.

Read the book that she wanted,"Elsie At Home", here.

As I was opening the letter from Santa, a slip of paper slid out and landed to the side. After reading the letter, I turned over the slip of paper.

I do not know how she died. Gracie's papers say no more on the subject, but I still have Alburn and Ethalind's papers to read.

Next week, Gracie becomes a librarian, and the other Burton historian.

Photo and documents, Burton Historical Collection, Detroit Public Library.

Other resources:

Parnassus on Main Street, a history of the Detroit Public Library, by Frank B. Woodford, Wayne State University Press, 1965

A Tale Of Two Car Parades

July 1909. Less than a year earlier, the first Model T rolled out of the Piquette Plant. Cars were becoming affordable for the average family, not just toys for the rich, and Detroit was hosting the Glidden Tour.

Men would drive 2,560 miles, taking the long way from Detroit to Kansas City, showcasing the safety and reliability of the increasingly popular automobile. Several women had participated in previous years. Mrs. Andrew Cuneo had been the first woman to complete the race in 1908. As a reward, the fairer sex were banned. No women would race this year.

But before the race started, on Monday, July 12th, Detroit hosted a big party for the tour. There were banquets, factory and showroom tours, a band concert in front of City Hall, and an afternoon on Belle Isle, with a parade of over a thousand cars, many of them decorated, followed by games and athletic competitions.

The parade began at Woodward and Grand Boulevard and proceeded down Woodward to Jefferson, then across the Belle Isle bridge and around the island.

The 1909 tour itself was actually a bit of a letdown for its planners. The number of entrants was disappointing to organizers. Thanks to the success of the nascent auto industry, many car makers were so busy making and selling cars that they no longer felt the need to promote themselves by participating.


Did you notice the title on the map, "PUBLIC DEMONSTRATION OF KEROSENE AS FUEL"? It seemed ironic, as I walked the dogs near Cobo Hall, where the Auto Show is taking place, in the year of the Volt. Sidewalks and streets can be quiet during the week near Cobo. On this night, I was drawn from Campus Martius to Cobo by voices, laughter, footsteps... going to see an electric car. It felt good.

There are hundreds more amazing 1909 Glidden Tour pictures at The Making Of Modern Michigan website, many of them showing familiar downtown landmarks and Belle Isle in the background.

Map image from the New York Public Library digital collections.
Panorama of cars in front of the Belle Isle Casino from the Library of Congress.
All other Belle Isle images from the Detroit Public Library, Lazarnick Collection, viewable on The Making of Modern Michigan site.

"Where The Honk Of The Motor Horn Is Heard"

The more things change.... look closely and you'll see that this car is plugged in to recharge. That's right, it's the Chevy Volt's great grandaddy, circa 1919. You'll rarely find me writing about cars, but I was curious about the beginnings of the Detroit Auto Show (now known as the North American International Auto Show), so I did a little digging, and ended up.... guess where? on Belle Isle.

It started with a bicycle guy, William Metzger. He and his partner Stanley Huber operated the biggest, most successful bicycle shop in Detroit in the early 1890's. Below, a later motorcycle and bicycle shop he owned...

In 1895, he went to an automobile show in London. He returned to Detroit convinced that automobiles were the future, sold his shares in the bicycle shop, and in 1897 opened Detroit's first independent car dealership. In 1899, Metzger included several steam and electric vehicles in a show with bicycles, firearms, and sporting goods. Below, Metzger's car, adorned with greenery, in a bicentenary parade, 1901... and see his home in Boston Edison here.

In 1907, the Detroit Auto Dealers Association formed, and the Detroit Auto show was officially born.

During the first decade of the twentieth century, the American Automobile Association was hard at work promoting cars in its own way. In 1904, the AAA started a "reliability" race for cars from the east coast to the St. Louis World's Fair. The following year, telephone exchange magnate Charles Glidden put up $2,000 prize money for the winner. In 1909, the DADA's influence brought the Glidden Reliability Tour to Detroit, and to Belle Isle for a parade.

 The official pathfinder car for the 1909 tour was a product of William Metzger's latest venture, the EMF.
Shown below, the 1912 EMF, from Wikimedia Commons.

By 1911, the Detroit Auto Show was held at the Wayne Hotel Gardens. From the Michigan Manufacturer, January 14th, 1911:

A year ago both floors of the Wayne Gardens were crowded to the last inch. This year the pinch for room will be worse than ever.

The 1911 exhibit will, however, be wonderful and interesting, even to the people who have to constantly dodge testing cars on the streets in this city, where the honk of the motor horn is heard above the pound of the anvil.

Each year the men who make and sell cars have to strive to make their particular car more attractive, more durable, more economical to maintain and more complete in detail to tempt the eye of a curious and educated-buying public.

The result is that the merits of a car rests on the finer points of construction. The car that was a rich man's plaything a few years ago is now doing dray duty for the shopman around the corner.

Careful study has brought the manufacturing end down to the fine point where a better and cheaper car can be turned out. The man of moderate means can now own and operate a car that will compare favorably with the more expensive car owned by his millionaire friend.

The use of the motor car for commercial purposes has long ago passed the experimental stage. It is only a question of time when the commercial vehicle will be adapted for every use in the country and in the city.

The universal popularity of the motor car in all countries and in all climes has opened up a great field and, despite all that has been said to the contrary, it will take years to reap the harvest.

....the more things remain the same.

I'll be following the 1909 Glidden Tour in Detroit and on Belle Isle later this week.

From the National Automotive History Collection, Detroit Public Library

All photos from the Library of Congress, unless captioned otherwise.

"walking the line" with jessica Care moore

It felt like I was having a conversation with an old friend.

Words reached out from the walls, from the covers of books and the pages of poems. They stretched in bright graffiti paint script and bold block poster face. The tools of poems and language danced across canvases, surrounded by tendrils of color.

"it's not that i haven't heard it before"

The writer, the poet, the artist danced among them. I could see the soft glimmer of stardust on her skin, as I listened to her converse with admirers.

"it was your elbow nudge"

Drawn by glimpses of stories on the walls, I bought her book. The graceful, elegant bookseller mentioned Jessica's warmth and energy. "You will have her sign your book", she said. I hadn't thought of it, approaching a famous poet, but it seemed natural, the way she spoke of it.

"building a nest with snowballs, poems &

my one year old's imagination"

So I asked her about books making the base of a sculpture in the corner of the room, a waterfall of books pouring from the figure of a queen of words. "How did you pick the books?", I asked. She spoke of her many books at home. She had wanted the river of books to be bigger, taller, but the space constrained her. She assembled them as a reflection of her journey with language, texts of the old canon and the new one she hopes to create, mixed together.

"a line i dare you to walk over

a line sometimes too unbearable for breath"

Then I asked her to sign my book. She sat down with me, a stranger, and asked me about myself, and what I thought of the show. This tiny, fierce dynamo, five time winner of Showtime at the Apollo, talked of feeling vulnerable at her art show opening, of how it is always daunting to try something new. She was so encouraging and genuine. I felt inspired and a little tongue-tied, as though I could tell her of hopes and dreams that most people would scoff at.

"the gritty birthplace of our art

that couldn't contain or control

the capacity

of our hearts" 

When I got home and opened my book, it said, "Continue to write, grow, and love".

Jessica Care Moore's exhibit, NANOC: I Sing the Body Electric runs through January 15th, at the Dell Pryor Gallery, inside the Spiral Collective. For more information, visit here.

All quotations are from poems in her book, God Is Not An American. She writes magically of Detroit and beyond.

"a wasteland with new lofts downtown.

a holy place with schools and no books.

abandoned neighborhoods & beauty

beyond belief."

Find Jessica's book at Moore Black Press, or at Source Booksellers. Visit her website here.