2841 Cochrane Street


McInerney Home, W. J. Roberts Grocery, B. Hendy Grocery, Kalil’s Grocery, Walter’s Market, #1 Spirits & Liquor

This structure was originally at the corner of National Avenue and Bagg Street. No, it hasn’t moved an inch since the 1800s; however, a lot of other things have changed since then. In the next week, this structure will be demolished due to an emergency demolition order.

I believe that this structure dates back to the 1870s. At that time, it would have only been a small dwelling. In 1883, McEnhill & Moore filed permits for an addition to the dwelling at 177 National Avenue, pictured here, worth $350. This is likely when the storefront was added to the front portion of the structure.

During this era of the corner of National and Bagg, there was a storefront at this location and across Bagg Street. There was a meat market and a barber shop, but I can’t be certain which was which. Given the future history of this structure, I’d guess this was the meat market. The 1897 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map showcases a wood frame storefront and dwelling with a large garage out back.

In December 1898, James McInerney, a 33-year-old Deputy Sheriff, died inside the dwelling. He was unmarried and lived with his mother, whose home it was.

In September 1904, Mrs. Annie McInerney was still living there. That month, a “very youthful and very nervous” young man tried to rob her with a revolver on Brooklyn Street near Bagg. She screamed and dove at the boy, who fired his weapon and ran away at full sprint. Nobody was hurt, and nobody found the boy.

In December 1910, the store was occupied by W. J. Roberts Grocery. It was still there in December 1911.

In June 1915, the structure was for sale. It included the store and two living rooms. The current rent was $25, the business was all cash, and the receipts at the grocery totaled $20 per day on average.

In December 1916, the structure was listed for sale again. The grocery store was said to have clean stock and good fixtures, and it guaranteed $400 per week in sales, which is significantly higher than the year prior. The ad said they would sell at a sacrifice as illness was the reason it was up for sale, though that was a common sale tactic in this era.

By July 1919, B. Hendy had opened their grocery store at the corner. However, it wouldn’t be on Bagg Street for long.

In October 1920, a public hearing was held by Detroit’s Common Council about whether the city would change the name of Bagg Street to Temple Avenue in reference to Detroit’s Masonic Temple, the soon-to-be largest Masonic Temple in the world. Crews hadn’t even broken ground yet; however, officials were hoping to change the name of the street it faced to honor their proposed achievements. A public hearing was scheduled for Wednesday, October 20, 1920.

The Detroit Free Press published multiple letters to the editor on the issue, most of which seemed to be against the name change. Additionally, 27 property owners on Bagg Street signed a petition against the change.

On October 16th, 1920, Gertrude Deland Cotter of 66 Bagg Street wrote the paper opposing the change. She penned, “I think it is only fitting that…we take a look backward and give a thought to the city fathers, who, in so many ways, helped and served their fellow citizens and home city. As recognition of this effort, their contemporaries honored them by naming the streets after them—a commendable practice…Let us hold them for our posterity, a lasting monument to the memory of those who have gone before.” The letter was published on the 17th.

On October 18th, William J. Rowe, of 181 Bagg Street, wrote the paper supporting the change. He said that Bagg wasn’t nearly as recognizable as the Cass, Woodward, Howard, Witherill, and Bagley family names and was just named after the man whose land the street was set to run through. Additionally, he felt that “the magnificent Masonic structure to be erected appears to make the change to Temple Avenue appropriate.”

A reply to Rowe was written on October 16th and published on the 22nd by Albert W. Bagg. He explained that, though the Bagg name wasn’t as well known as others in Detroit, it was not just named for the man whose land the property ran through. He retorted that his father, A. Smith Bagg, came to Detroit in 1835, brought his wife to the family home in 1947, and he (Albert) was born there and lived there until the family moved in 1865. A. Smith Bagg, with his brothers, owned and managed the Detroit Free Press from around 1940 until 1955. Additionally, he was state printer when the capital was moved from Detroit to Lansing, alderman from of the old Fifth ward, one of the commissioners of the House of Correction, and on the commission appointed to create Grand Boulevard, which was his last public office and what Albert believed caused his death. He fought the other commissioners about the location of Grand Boulevard “for the simple reason that he owned property along that line, and would have parted with his right hand rather than have people think that, as a public man, he would vote for a measure that would be for his personal gain.” Albert claimed that after a long day of planning the route for Grand Boulevard, a job which he did for free, he was struck with a bout of apoplexy, causing his death the following morning. Additionally, Bagg donated the land where the street that bore his name ran to the city. 


If the street’s namesake’s contributions to making the city a better place weren’t enough, his son, Charles Rush Bagg, was a 33rd Degree Mason, one of the highest honors that can be bestowed upon a Mason, and Grand Thrice Illustrious Master of the Grand Council of Michigan. Other Bagg family members were masons, too, including Albert and his son. He finished the letter, “What must be our thoughts, then, to feel that some of our Masonic brothers think that so proud a name in Detroit’s history is not fit to the name on which the new Masonic Temple will stand?”

As the public hashed out their ideas for why the street name should or shouldn’t be changed in the paper that the street’s namesake once owned, Detroit’s Common Council had a meeting in which the decision was brought up on Monday, October 25. That said, it was laid over for two days, and the official vote would come on the 27th.

When Wednesday finally came, Detroit’s Common Council voted unanimously to change the name of Bagg Street to Temple Avenue. A relative of Bagg’s said he did not quarrel with the name change so long as another thoroughfare was named after A Smith Bagg, to which the Council agreed. I do not believe this was ever done.

Additionally, it was brought up that “thousands of Masons visiting Detroit would find their way to the building easier if the name is changed.” Though I respect the masons of this era, this quote makes them seem pretty thick. Could they really not have found it if it were still on Bagg Street? It’s a pretty tall building, after all.

After the name change, the structure pictured here was at the corner of Temple and National.

In 1922, the storefront was in use as a grocery at the hands of D. Kalil. For decades after that, I have found no mention of the structure. By the 1950 edition of the Sanborn Fire Insurance Maps, the entire structure had been turned into a store, so nobody lived there anymore, and the Temple and National sides had veneered brick added. In 1951, Kalil’s Grocery was still occupying the structure.

On June 28, 1962, Mickey Cochrane died. Cochrane, often referred to as one of the best catchers in baseball history, won two World Series titles with the Philadelphia Athletics and was traded to the Detroit Tigers in 1934 to work as a player-manager. In 1935, his team won the championship. On May 25, 1937, he was hit in the head by Bump Hadley, a Yankees pitcher, and was hospitalized for a week. He wouldn’t play baseball much longer but managed the Tigers through the 1938 season. He was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1947. On Friday, June 29, 1962, Detroit’s Common Council unofficially voted to rename National Avenue after the late baseball player. National Avenue ran along the west side of Tiger Stadium (called Navin Field when Cochrane played there and later Briggs Stadium), so the choice of road seemed fitting.

Looking back, the name change feels odd. Though Tigers fanatics will undoubtedly know who Cochrane was, most fans associate the term ‘Tigers Legend’ with players of that era like Ty Cobb, Charlie Gehringer, Harry Heilmann, Bobby Veach, George Mullin, and Sam Crawford, more than half of whom died before Cochrane.

After the change, this structure was at the corner of Cochrane and Temple, where it sits today. For now, anyway.

In the 1960s, the building was home to Walter’s Market, owned by Walter Podbielski of Hamtramck.

On June 24, 1963, Walter was robbed at his market by two men armed with a revolver. They took $200.

On December 17, 1963, there was another attempted robbery at Walter’s Market. Podbielski had set up a cot in the back of the store and gotten a guard dog because of the recent break-ins at the market. While asleep in the back, his dog started barking, and Podbielski heard somebody trying to hack the side door open. The shop owner grabbed his shotgun and shouted for the person to “hold it right there.” As the person stepped backward, Podbielski fired two shots with his shotgun and called the police. The boy, 18-year-old Charles Traylor, was dead on arrival at Receiving Hospital and lived a block over on Butternut Street near Trumbull. I’ve found no other mention of the incident. Walter Podbielski died in 1968.

I’ve found no mention of this place online since the murder.

Most recently, the store was home to #1 Spirits & Liquor, which I believe was still open around a decade ago. The structure was clad with hand-painted signage, murals of Detroit, and other paintings.

The structure has taken a turn for the worse in the past few years, with a part of the building starting to collapse. It’s listed under an LLC that I’m not certain exists anymore, which likely explains the building’s current condition. An emergency demolition order was placed on October 10th.

Regardless of how small it is, a piece of Detroit’s history will go with it when the structure is demolished in the ensuing weeks.


Eric Hergenreder

A photographer, writer, and researcher based out of Detroit, Michigan.

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