Coleman A. Young did more than just tinker underneath the hood of Detroit politics – he kicked the door wide open and dared the world to step to him.

For over 20 years, he fashioned himself as a true warrior for the people of Detroit: sharply dressed, sharp-tongued, and devoted to the cause of Black political progress. 

Though some saw a controversial figure who polarized a city on the brink, Coleman A. Young refused to back down.

Coleman Alexander Young was born in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, in 1918, but the Great Migration carried him north when he was just five years old, a common move for Black families fleeing Jim Crow and the trials and tribulations that came along with sharecropping. 

He and his family arrived in Detroit’s Black Bottom in 1923 – one of the few neighborhoods Black families were allowed to settle in at the time in a city that was cold, racist, and crowded.

Not long after that, Young’s father died, and the family struggled.

He grew up delivering papers, working odd jobs, and working hard to do well in school – especially at Eastern High School, where he was a razor-sharp student who had no tolerance for injustice.

Even in his youth, Young was known to speak up when he wasn’t “supposed to. 

It was a quality that never went away.

Young enlisted in the U.S. Army Air Forces in World War II.

His training was as a Tuskegee Airman – one of the first Black military pilots in the U.S. – and though he never saw combat, his training gave him the endurance he’d later need to climb the political ladder as a black man in an era where the cards were largely stacked against him.

Once back in Detroit after the war, Young took a job at Ford’s Rouge Plant and got involved with the labor movement, eventually becoming a member of the United Auto Workers (UAW) until he was infamously blacklisted for speaking out against racism in the unions.

Suddenly, he was forced to carve his own path.

In the 1950s, Young was labeled a Communist sympathizer for refusing to name names before the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC).

But he didn’t flinch.

Instead, he boldly stated that, “The activities of this committee are un-American.“

It was an outspoken statement for a Black man in 1952 – and it kept him under FBI surveillance for years.

Yet in Detroit, it made him a legend, and he turned that reputation into power in 1964, serving as the first Black man in the Michigan State Senate. 

Over the next decade, he passed civil rights laws, challenged discriminatory housing practices, and set his sights on something bigger.

Much bigger.

By 1967, the Detroit Rebellion had shaken the city to its core.

It was a city under siege, with a bleeding population, racial tension, and white-led institutions that treated Black neighborhoods like disposable assets.

As such, in 1973, when Coleman A. Young ran for mayor, it wasn’t just an election – it was a reckoning.

He won, but just barely, and his acceptance speech was iconic:

“I issue a warning to all those pushers, to all rip-off artists, to all muggers: It’s time to leave Detroit; hit Eight Mile Road! I don’t give a damn if they are black or white, or if they wear Superfly suits or blue uniforms with silver badges. Hit the road.”(paraphrase)

For his backers, it was a battle cry. 

To his critics, it sounded chaotic.

Yet nobody could say he didn’t mean business.

Coleman A. Young was Detroit’s longest-serving mayor from 1974 to 1994.

He had inherited a city in free fall: white flight had increased, jobs were vanishing, and the tax base was sinking.

Yet Young never backed down.

Instead, he swung into action with unseen ferocity, setting his sights on integrating the police department and replacing the openly racist stress unit with more community-oriented officers.

Under his leadership, more black professionals than ever came to City Hall, making Detroit the center of black political power in America.

But there were also defeats.

The city continued to lose residents, especially during the 80’s crack epidemic. Public schools declined. Crime soared. Federal help ended. And the deep wound that was inner-city Detroit only increased suburban resentment towards Young.

White communities across the metro region called him divisive, angry, and corrupt.

But Young didn’t care.

He was, after all, authentically Detroit.

He knew how to rise from the underbelly of segregation and hate, and that tenacity would lead to him becoming the first black man to run a city fueled by the blood, sweat, and tears of the people who were never allowed to own it.

He was not trying to be liked.

He was making history.

Coleman Young retired in 1994, but he was never silenced, even going on to publish a memoir on his life and time as Mayor called “Hard Stuff” in 1994.

He died on November 29, 1997, at the age of 79, and was buried at the huge Greater Grace Temple on Detroit’s west side, an event that drew in preachers, union bosses, and street-level citizens who still fondly called him “our Mayor.”

Even Former President Jimmy Carter, a close personal friend of Young’s, publicly mourned his death, referring to Young as “one of the greatest Mayors our country has known,” emphasizing the deep respect and admiration he had for Young’s contributions to public service and civil rights.

Coleman A. Young was not perfect.

He was abrasive, proud, fiercely political, and impossible to ignore – and he reshaped American urban history from inside a city that most of the country had already written off.

Today, his fingerprints can still be found all across Detroit, from the Coleman A. Young Municipal Center to the airport named after him (the Coleman A. Young International Airport).

He was a man who stood up loud and proud in a room full of power and said:

We, the people, own Detroit now.

For that, he will never be forgotten.

Victoria Jackson (Editor In Chief)

Victoria Jackson is a lifelong student and sharp-eyed documentarian of all things Detroit, from its rich musical roots and cultural icons to its shifting neighborhoods, storied architecture, and underground legends. With her finger firmly on the pulse of both the city’s vibrant past and its rapidly unfolding future, she brings a deeply personal, historically grounded lens to every piece she writes.

Published on: June 26, 2025