5601 West Warren Avenue
Detroit Savings Bank, Detroit Bank & Trust Company, Detroit Black Writers’ Guild, West Warren Avenue Merchants Association
This branch of the Detroit Savings Bank was built in 1920 and designed by Albert Kahn. There are numerous borderline identical structures across the city, including their branch on Hamilton at Collingwood.
These structures were built to look strong and powerful—a design meant to imply that the institutions that commissioned their construction were impenetrable to hardships and economic dips. Over time, the banks proved less structurally sound than an abandoned house after a fire.
In February 1951, this branch was casually robbed by a man asking to cash a check. When the teller, 36-year-old Elizabeth Sweeney, began to do so, he reached through the bars, grabbed a canvas bag sitting on the counter, and ran. He made off with $570 in five-dollar bills and was later caught and convicted.
By 1963, it had become a Detroit Bank & Trust Company branch. I believe the Detroit Savings Bank was integrated into this company, as the location on Hamilton changed to this financial denomination, too. In December, a man walked inside and handed 29-year-old Betty Czapski a note that read, “The life you save may be your own. This is a stick-up.” He wore a fur hat and escaped into a car driven by an accomplice.
Okay—just one more robbery story. In 1971, “The Junkie Bandit” held up the bank. He wore a gold cap and had a blue steel revolver. He made off with $700 in small bills and escaped. Earlier, he tried to rob the branch at 1400 East Canfield. The Junkie Bandit gave 24-year-old Patricia Carson a note that read, “Stickup, $5,000 or die,” which caused Carson to scream. After the shriek, he fled and ended up at 5601 West Warren, pictured here. You know what they say; try, try again.
At some point, the property ceased to be a bank. By 1986, the structure was home to the Detroit Black Writers’ Guild and the West Warren Avenue Merchants Association. Both organizations were associated with a local community member and writer Peggy Moore. Her book, How Not to Abuse Your Child, was featured in the Detroit Free Press and included tips on raising your kids in Detroit.
The Detroit Black Writers Guild worked to heighten literacy in Detroit, did poetry workshops and contests, and taught Detroiters about black history and culture. Peggy Ann and Todd Moore incorporated the nonprofit in 1983 to “bring people together of all ages who love to write for fun, fulfillment, and possible publication. To see out those with exceptional writing skills to write the on-going Black experience.”
The West Warren Avenue Merchants Association focused on commerce in the area, especially their stretch of Warren. Peggy Moore was involved in its formation, too, alongside Mary Brazelton and Thomas Pettigrew. In addition to promoting local businesses, they also had luncheons. The organization was dissolved in 1993.
Peggy Moore died in July 1997. She was 65 years old. Until a week before her death, she was still working with kids and community members at the Guild.
One of her many legacies is Paradise Valley Days: A Photo Album Poetry Book, Detroit 1930s to 1950s.’ The book was Moore’s idea, and she worked on it with Herbert Metoyer. It came out in June 1998, less than a year after Moore died.
The Detroit Black Writers’ Guild still exists today—although it’s now called the Detroit Writers’ Guild. Their site says their goal is to “launch new writers into commercial markets and support emerging and established writers as they build their professional platforms,” among other things.
I’m unsure when the structure became vacant or whether it’s *totally* vacant. Online says that the City Planning and Development Department owns the property. Knowing that information, it isn’t that shocking that the structure was wide open on my visit.
There’s a make-shift stage in the main banking area—which could be leftover from the Guild’s ownership. The backdrop had been painted with chalkboard paint and was sprawling with writing. There was a makeshift bar, and empty beer cans overflowed from a black contractor bag. They can’t be terribly old because red and yellow Stroh’s cans debuted less than a decade ago. Overall, the space looked very wannabe punk. I can’t forget—someone had snagged a Citgo gas station sign and elevated it near the door.
I didn’t have a hammer, but I did my best to close the huge hole I found when I arrived. The structure appears to be in great shape—the original flooring was even showing in certain places.
Though not far from Midtown and Downtown, this section of Detroit hasn’t seen much investment. Bank buildings have found uses across the city, so there are examples of the structures being redeveloped into something useful. An upstairs could easily be converted into a living space with a business downstairs.
There are a handful of these Albert Kahn banks around, and they should all be preserved. Has your jaw ever dropped looking at the details on a new bank with a drive-through ATM?