2281 East Forest Avenue
Dom Polski, East Side Dom Polski, Private Residence, Detroit Love, INC.
One of Detroit’s most opulent ethnic halls still stands, albeit in a much lonelier state than it once was. The Dom Polski Hall on Forest was one of three within Detroit’s city limits, but it was the most stunning. For generations, Detroiters met their life partners, danced the night away, and held meetings of local and national importance here. This is the story of the east side Dom Polski.
In 1906, the Detroit Free Press printed an article about a Polish group’s plans to construct an ethnic hall for Poles in Detroit. Of the estimated $150,000 it would cost to construct such a building, the group had raised nearly $35,000 from Poles across the city. August Cryonski, Dom Polski’s Secretary at the time, said, “We Poles are very desirous of having a central meeting place where we can provide our young people with healthy and uplifting amusements…free from the mischievous influences to which young people of all nationalities are liable.” Despite their ambition, work wouldn’t start for six years.
In March 1907, the Dom Polski Association of Detroit was incorporated with $30,000 in capital.
Another article in the Detroit Free Press in May 1907 stated that Dom Polski was raising funds for a $50,000 building. The piece noted that a location had yet to be chosen but would stand somewhere on the east side near the growing Polish enclave.
Again in March 1909, readers learned about the plight of the Dom Polski Association. This time, the price was quoted between $75,000 and $100,000, but it was noted that work wasn’t set to begin for at least a year.
The heart of Polish life on the east side of Detroit until this point was at various halls (like the nearby Lincoln Hall), saloons, and churches. Although none were as significant as the Dom Polski would be when it was completed, they served the Polish population in Detroit for the time being.
By October 1912, architecture firm Joseph G. Kastler and Company had filed for permits and chosen contractors to complete the work. Joseph Nowakowsky did the masonry, Detroit Bridge & Steel Works handled the steel, Eastern Stone Company took care of the stone, Thomas Carstecki was the Carpenter, Hilary Schafer & Son were on plastering, Robert Buckouski on plumbing, G. A. Krueger & Son sorted out the painting and glazing, Venetian Marble & Mosaic Art Company laid the floors, and Adam J. Orth was assigned roofing and sheet metal work. You know the old saying that it takes a village to raise a child? Turns out, it takes an entire Polish enclave to raise a community house. And raise it, they did!
From completion, the structure was used immediately. It hosted dances, rented offices to local groups, held fundraisers, and was a focal point in the community for cultural events, speakers, and assistance for the less fortunate. By 1916, the Poles on the west side of Detroit had begun constructing their own Dom Polski. Decades later, this would split the Polish population in Detroit and play a factor in both of their closures. However, in the 1910s, it was well-needed.
By 1923, Dom Polski on the east side still had a $18,000 mortgage. The group planned a lavish 9-day carnival to raise the money to burn the paperwork after the payment was fulfilled. Any additional money raised would be put into upgrading the structure. In addition to four diamond rings and a roadster to be given away as prizes, the event’s main draw was the Queen of Kirmess pageant.
“Many Polish girls will be entered in a popularity contest which will decide not only the most popular Polish girl in Detroit, but win her the title and rank of “Queen of the Kirmess,” the Detroit Free Press reported. I’m unsure who won the contest or whether they could burn the mortgage after the event. Still, it’s hardly conceivable that such an event could have happened there, considering how sparse the population surrounding the structure is today. I haven’t been able to find any photos of the event yet.
From political events to Polish Falcon, American Legion, or Fraternal Order of Eagle meetings, Dom Polski was there to celebrate the good in the community of Poletown East. When times weren’t so good, it was a meeting and rallying point, too.
On September 11, 1923, Wladyslawa ‘Lottie’ Lorenc, 13, was accused of stealing $100 from the family in the flat attached to hers. Despite pleading her innocence, her insistence that she wasn’t feeling well, and her family not being made aware of the situation, she was taken to the police station and questioned before being sent to the juvenile detention center. There, her illness took a turn for the worse, and she was taken to Harper Hospital, where she died of spinal meningitis a few days later.
The situation sparked outrage among Poles in Detroit, who began to gather at her home on East Milwaukee Avenue. Many mistook her autopsy scars and poor condition as proof that the police had beaten and caused her death, and the crowds began to demand justice. Although these were apparently considered typical for the era’s medical practices, many still cried foul that the girl was taken from her home and that her whereabouts were unknown to her family.
Later in September, 4,000 Poles gathered at the Dom Polski Hall to grieve and raise money to have their own investigation of the incident completed. The coroner, Dr. James E. Burgess, “finally agreed to conduct an inquest,” according to the Detroit Free Press. After the hearings and testimonies, five of the six jurors believed that Lottie died from natural causes. Even though the inquest didn’t prove what many in the mob were convinced was true, the due process did affect how children, especially girls, were handled in the justice system, even if the ripples reverberating from the incident were much smaller than the tempers that flared as Poles threw rocks at police offices on East Milwaukee Avenue.
Dom Polski was a haven for Polish people in Detroit through the good and the bad times. Events like the death of Lottie were proof of the fear many immigrants had in their new homes about how quickly things here could become like they were back home. Lottie’s mother died five weeks later, and her father left his son, Lottie’s brother, with his eldest daughter and left the city a heartbroken man, never to return.
Throughout the 1920s and 1930s, Dom Polski was home to numerous parades, music, and cultural events for Poles in Detroit. In addition to the more wholesome side of the center, it was also home to the occasional “smoker” event, which typically consisted of a few women dancers and dozens of men hanging out drinking. These events were raided occasionally, which implies they happened more often than police discovered them.
Speaking decades later, Bernice Gryzenia Morawski said about being a young person at the Dom Polski, “As single girls, we would get together every Friday and Saturday to go to the Dom Polski on Chene Street…it was socially acceptable for women to go unescorted.” Over the years, it wasn’t common for couples to have met at the Dom Polski and later been married.
In the early 1940s, the Friends of the Polish Army in Canada Association had an office inside Dom Polski. They aimed to distribute information about Poles in Canada fighting in the war. Many men from Detroit volunteered for the Polish Army in Canada to show their support. Pearl Harbor was bombed within months of the office opening, and the United States entered the war.
On October 27, 1945, the ninth page of the Detroit Free Press laid a bombshell header for an article set at the Dom Polski, “Five Jitterbug Devotees ‘Stole’ Wife at Dance.” Roy Lyman and his wife, Elizabeth, went to the hall to go dancing. However, other men began dancing with Elizabeth and wouldn’t let her husband have a turn. Roy stated that one man, Clayton Richardson, 21, demanded that he prove that he was her wife before he would allow him to dance with her. Five men were taken to court, but only Richardson was prosecuted. He was given four years of probation for disturbing the peace. When on the stand, Judge Stein asked Elizabeth whether she had a good time the night of the incident. She began to weep as she replied, “I’ll say I did.”
After the war, many of the groups and events at the Dom Polski were fighting to free Poland from the Iron Curtain. The Polish American Congress held meetings there, and many from the neighborhood were involved. Poland would have its first democratic elections since before the war in 1991 after decades of work in the country and across the globe.
Although the population of Poletown East began to fall, like the rest of Detroit, Dom Polski continued to be culturally and politically relevant. Mayor Jerome Cavanagh briefly spoke here on the campaign trail in 1965, but he left in a hurry afterward as his opponent, Walter C. Shamie, was in the audience. He took the stage later and tore into Cavanaugh. However, the latter won by a landslide.
After the 1960s, I haven’t found much information about Dom Polski online. Sources say it closed in the 1980s, a decade or two after the west side Dom Polski. Another hall opened in North East Detroit on McNichols, and the hall in Wyandotte became one of the largest in the area as Poles continued to leave Detroit for the suburbs.
At some point, the East Forest Dom Polski landed in private hands and, before the current owners, was under the possession of Bryan C. Dulsky. The interior showed signs of age; however, the bones were still in good shape and maintained. The structure and its history were featured in the 2007 documentary ‘Dom Polski: The Dance Hall Days of Detroit’s Polonia,’ which I haven’t found anywhere online. If you’ve got a copy, I’d love to see it.
In 2012, the structure was put up for sale for $225,000. According to the listing, the building has 3,000 square feet of living space and 7,000 square feet of auditorium with a newer roof and furnace. The living quarters may have been added onto or modified from the old office section of the structure. An organization called Detroit Love Incorporated purchased it that year, nearly a century after it was completed, for $115,000.
According to their site, the religious group’s foundations were formed in 1998 when a group of Elkton, Maryland, students decided to go to Detroit for their weeklong summer mission trip. This became an annual event, and a little over a decade later, Detroit Love was formed by members of that group and some newcomers. Their site says they “are excited to continue renovating the building so that we can one day host Big A and other year round ministries for local families!” Although not much work appears to have been completed on the exterior of Dom Polski, the structure is one of the most secure I’ve seen, and that’s saying something.
There isn’t much left of the Polish roots that made Poletown East into one of Detroit’s most vibrant commercial corridors and healthy neighborhoods. Even when compared to a few years ago, we’ve lost so much. However, the fact that the Dom Polski still stands is a testament to the people who built and maintained it over the decades.
Hopefully, this structure will become a community asset rather than a locked building in the near future. Until then, look at that facade!
