In a Detroit era marked by robber barons, political machines, and backroom deals, Hazen S. Pingree emerged as a man on a mission.

He was not born rich.

He did not rise through charm or connections.

Quite the contrary, he was a Union Army veteran, a shoemaker turned businessman, and finally, Detroit’s most beloved Mayor – one who believed public service meant actually serving the public.

Hazen S. Pingree lived modestly in Maine before he reached Detroit in 1865 as a Civil War veteran who had survived Confederate imprisonment in Andersonville.

His calloused hands and keen instincts helped him start a shoe company from scratch, which ended up doing very well.

And yet, Pingree never forgot what it was like to go without – a memory that colored everything he did next.

He was then elected Mayor of Detroit in 1889 amid immense corruption, skyrocketing living costs, and monopolies that were draining everyday workers dry.

And yet, Pingree refused to back down.

Instead, he declared war.

Pingree did not govern like a politician.

He ruled like a man with nothing to lose:

• He fought gas companies for overcharging.
• His streetcar monopolies lowered fares.
• He demanded public utilities and better schools.
• He cut waste.
• He exposed graft.
• And he humiliated the city’s powerful aristocracy.

Newspapers called him radical.

Yet the people called him a hero.

And when the 1893 Panic brought mass unemployment to Detroit, Pingree started one of the nation’s first urban welfare programs, allowing Detroiters to grow food on vacant lots in what would become known as “Pingree’s Potato Patches.”

Some considered them gardens.

To others, they were lifelines.

Pingree transformed Detroit and went on to become Governor of Michigan in 1897, but even then – this was a man who couldn’t be bought.

He never mellowed – instead, he doubled down.

He attacked the railroads.

He advocated for higher corporate taxes.

In every corner of the state, he sought to break up monopolistic control, enforcing morality in an age that punished such conduct.

In every sense, he was a man before his time – an early progressive before the movement had a name – and both Republicans and Democrats challenged him as a result.

Pingree died in London on June 18, 1901, at the age of 60 after returning from an African safari.

His cause of death was reported as peritonitis and dysentery, which he had developed after his trip. 

While in London, he was diagnosed with a cancerous infection of the intestines, leaving little hope for recovery and making it impossible for him to travel home.

When his body was finally returned to Detroit, tens of thousands mourned his death.

Factories paused. 

And the streets filled with the many men and women whose lives he had changed by being a politician who actually kept his promises.

A bronze statue in honor of Pingree was erected in Grand Circus Park, forever immortalizing him and reminding Detroiters to this very day of a time when the people of the city were just as valued as big corporations. 

Hazen Pingree never requested applause.

He demanded accountability.

Not for power’s sake – but to use it like a hammer – to build, to break up pockets of injustice, to make space for justice.

He’s more than just a memory.

He’s a measuring stick:

A man with integrity who shook an empire like no one before him ever had.

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