Florence Ballard was more than just a founding member of The Supremes – she was their original heartbeat – not to mention as far from “everyday” as any woman could get.

Even when history skewed her light to more camera-ready stars, Detroit never forgot her.

How could they?

Florence’s voice was one of pain, joy, playfulness, power, and above all else…soul.

Born in Detroit’s working-class Brewster-Douglass Projects, Ballard developed her talent early on when she was discovered as a teenager by local doo-wop manager Milton Jenkins, a vocal powerhouse.

At 15, she recruited Mary Wilson and Diana Ross – fellow classmates of hers from Cass Tech – into what would become the Supremes, Motown’s biggest girl group and one of music history’s most iconic acts.

Florence wasn’t just along for the ride – she was its architect, one with gospel-trained vocals that grounded the group harmonies and a stage presence that was loud, earthy, and raw – everything the Motown machine would later try to chip away at.

In 1961, the Supremes signed with Motown and went on to find massive commercial success, dominating the charts. 

Unfortunately for Florence, she was slowly pushed to the side as the group got more and more polished, which got particularly brutal when Berry Gordy became obsessed with Diana Ross and decided he wanted her as the face and voice of the Supremes instead of Florence.

Florence was outspoken and raw, but she didn’t do well with music industry politics.

She was too real.

In response to being pushed out, Florence drank, rebelled, lashed out, and in 1967, at the age of 24, she was kicked from the very group she had formed.

Florence attempted a solo career after her removal from the Supremes, all while struggling with very little Motown support and mounting legal troubles. 

She raised three daughters in poverty, sued for unpaid royalties, and suffered her fair share of public humiliation and private heartbreak.

That said, she never lost her dignity.

Her very existence was a testament against erasure, and a short but defiant stint on television in 1975 marked her first big return to the public eye.

She performed several times, including a concert in Detroit as part of the Joan Little Defense League, on the local Detroit TV talk show, “The David Diles Show,” and in an episode of “American Bandstand.”

Her voice was weathered at this point, yet still undeniably her own: raw, deep, unbreakable.

And yet, sadly, just a few months later, she would die at the young age of 32 from coronary thrombosis.

It was something no one saw coming, and all of Detroit wept even when Motown barely flinched.

Florence Ballard was never perfectly polished.

She was never reinvented to perfection.

She was simply…herself

And in that way, she was as Detroit as anyone could get.

Her story is one of enormous talent, industry cruelty, and a light dimmed long before it could shine on its own terms.

She is not forgotten, though.

Not by the daughters who bear her name.

Not by fans who can still hear her in early Supreme records.

And certainly not by the city she came from – a city that knows exactly what it means to be underestimated, replaced, yet still remembered.

Florence wasn’t just a founding Supreme member.

Her soul made the group possible, and she will be forever remembered in Detroit as more than just a footnote, but as an ode to always remaining true to yourself regardless of the costs.

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