Considered an eyesore by some, The Coleman Young administration lobbied to tear it down without success. For years the awning hovering over Michigan Avenue sheltered vagrants from the elements, leaving the front sidewalk blanketed with newspapers and garbage; all helping to contribute to the dingy image Detroit has come to be known for so well. From the time it closed in 1984 until 1997, the city had a guard posted to keep vandals and scrap thieves out, but as the economy in the region dissipated, so did funding for the security, and suddenly the Book-Cadillac became vulnerable. Over the next six or seven years, the Book was released to vandals who stripped the building of its valuables. Chandeliers, copper wiring, plumbing, heating and cooling systems, all compromised, leaving literally only a voided shell. In 2003 the Kilpatrick administration announced an ambitious $200 million renovation plan. But first, the city had obstacles. Because of building practices when the Book was constructed, it was filled with hazardous materials ranging from lead paint to asbestos to PCBs. When thieves removed the electrical transformers, they spilled the chemicals that the valuable copper components were submerged in. This liquid was allowed to seep through the majority of the building, over time, slowly spreading the contamination. This damage made the project very difficult from the beginning. The city was obligated to clean up the building before any other work could start. Progress was slow and the project hit a snag with funding, and suddenly the renovation was on hold due to shaky financing. When the work stopped, a large hole was left in the middle of the sidewalk inviting the curious inside.

The lobby was not much different than the basement. In fact, with the exception of a leather couch lingering in the waiting area, there was nothing of the original décor left. The whole floor had been stripped down to concrete and steel. Where damage occurred on the flooring, small squares had been cut out replacing the weak spots with holes. It also seemed the contamination had been cleaned up. None of the plaster walls remain, no wiring, and no plumbing; just the bear-bones structure. Construction lights had been placed inside for the workers because not much daylight penetrated the outside façade that had now been long boarded up. The stairways and ledges were straddled with makeshift wooden railings, creating an illusion of safety. Portions of the building were even being supported with temporary poles and braces.

While proceeding to the roof on an exhausting climb, to my amazement I found the second third of the building was still mostly in tact. This was the reason I climbed through the hole in the sidewalk. I was very excited that I had not missed the opportunity to see the true insides' of the Book-Cadillac. The faded and yellowed wallpaper told a story of better times in Detroit; vintage bathrooms reflected their faded lime green hue in the evening sunshine. These walls were built before drywall and commercial construction codes. Their mass was made up of heavy bricks rather than modern supplies you would expect. The windows were all here still, but it was not long until construction resumed and the old windows disappeared only to be replaced with more efficient models. On one particular floor was a remnant of some of the buildings artwork. Perched on the wall was a hand painted oriental rug. Rather than the floor, it was right up on the wall. Construction crews had knocked a hole through the corner while running power lines for their equipment.

This was easily the best spot to be in the entire hotel, and the reason why the condo that was recently built here sold for more than $2 million. I wandered to the highest point of the roof where elements from the decorative masonry were in the process of being removed, cataloged, and restored. Much of the 80-year-old vintage copper had not yet been taken down. Workers made as much of an effort to reuse original materials as possible, but much could not be saved. Now capped with new shiny copper flashing, the ziggurats will surely turn green with noble rust as time and weather pass. After such a long day, the sun began setting, and the Book-Cadillac receded into the dark Detroit night. On the way down the stairwells my body cast giant shadows from construction lights on the Lafayette building across the street. It was likely no surprise to the folks waiting at the D.D.O.T. bus stop below when I suddenly appeared climbing out of a hole in the sidewalk.