12045 Rosa Parks Boulevard
American State Bank, Apostolic Faith Church of Love
(The address was originally 12045 Twelfth Street)
By 1922, construction had started on a new bank building at the corner of Twelfth and Monterey in Detroit. In 1923, the structure was completed, opening as the 23rd branch of the American State Bank.
In 1925, this branch was the first to add bulletproof glass to prevent bank robberies. It was installed in September, and it was paying off by November. Three men walked into the branch, and one, who appeared to be the leader, asked for change for a dollar in pennies. After receiving his change, he pointed a gun at Arnold Bauer, the teller who had handled his pennies. Bauer ducked under the counter and pushed the button to alert the authorities.
The second bandit pulled a revolver, too, and pointed it at a bookkeeper, Clarence Bossow. The third bandit took his gun and handled the janitor and another customer, L. U. Cook. After the alarm rang, the second bandit fired a shot at Clarence Bossow, the bookkeeper, who was staring back at him, smiling. Bossow knew that the glass was bulletproof; the gunman did not. The bullet damaged the outer layer of the glass but ultimately ended up crushed on the floor. The three men ran out of the bank, hopped into the car they had stolen from W. E. Klein, and were off. Roy Eddy, the manager at the time, kept the flattened bullet as a souvenir.
The bank went belly up during the Great Depression. I’m unsure if it disappeared entirely or merged with another bank, but it was often in the paper due to controversy. In 1936, Robert S. Marx, a financial attorney, stated that the American State Bank was the “worst managed banking institution in the United States.” At the time, the Detroit Free Press agreed with them.
In 1950, the former bank building was for sale. It had five offices and parking available in the rear. It was for sale via Homer Warren & Co.
The neighborhood was always rough, as evident by the robbery attempt in 1925, but by the 1960s, things had gotten worse. Although the Big Three were still employing a great deal of Detroit both directly and indirectly, the decline in Detroit had started decades before.
In 1967, a rebellion started under a mile down 12th Street and exploded from the neighborhood surrounding this building across the city, destroying over 400 buildings, injuring over 1,100, and killing over 40. Police were hunting for a man they called “Greensleeves,’ who they alleged had been present outside the blind pig on 12th Street where the events started and provoked the crowd into attacking police. Police called him Greensleeves because he had been wearing bright green trousers and a green sweater with poofy sleeves.
A few days later, a man wearing that outfit was picked up by Detroit Police at the intersection of Twelfth and Monterey, directly outside this building.
That man was 23-year-old Michael Lewis. He was charged with inciting to riot and rioting, but the state’s charges resulted in two hung juries and the prosecution dropping their charges in 1971.
Before the case, Lewis had been a press operator at the Ford Rouge Plant. After the trial, they refused to hire him back. His family said he’d get a new job every few weeks but get fired when they discovered he was Greensleeves. He ended up on the street with addiction issues, eventually going to the hospital to get clean. Through everything, his parents were by his side.
They were the first black family on the block when they moved into their current home. Although Lewis didn’t do interviews, his mother talked to the Detroit Free Press. In closing, she said, “This has been a living tragedy and no one seems to care…But I haven’t given up on him. I never will.”
Although Lewis felt that Detroit had turned its back on him, many Detroiters had not. In September 1967, Herb Boyd wrote to the Detroit Free Press, proposing that he be released. He said, “Michael Lewis is being held in lieu of all the black men in America. He is being made a scapegoat for the recent rebellion in Detroit.” I’m not certain what happened to Michael Lewis.
In 1976, 12th Street was renamed Rosa Parks Boulevard. It attempted to replace a negative connotation, the Twelfth Street Riot, with a positive one.
That same year, the Apostolic Faith Church of Love had been incorporated and moved into the church pictured here. It was a small parish and one of the many that moved into former bank buildings in the 60s, 70s, 80s, and 90s in Detroit. The church changed addresses in 2011. The organization still exists, but I’m not sure it ever meets.
While taking these photographs yesterday, a man stopped in his car, and we chatted about the building. He said it’s one of the two buildings still standing that he can remember going inside as a kid. He asked if it was coming down, and I told him I didn’t think there were plans to bring it down, but given its current shape, I’d imagine it could happen any day.
We agreed it would be a shame if the eagle were smashed to bits when this structure is eventually demolished. He joked that we should hop up there and take it now to save it, and I retorted that I’d let him step on the holey roof first. He got a kick out of that, and we parted ways.
To my knowledge, the church still owns the property. The door has been cracked open for a few months, and there are holes in the windows and roof that are easy to see. Most likely, this structure will be demolished.
Hopefully, somebody saves the eagle. I haven’t seen any other neighborhood bank branches that still have one.
