Failing to keep up with more modern advances in music, the company refocused its operations in the vending machine industry and now produces things like cigarette and soda machines, as well as continues to lease and market the Wurlitzer name to replica companies

Replica pictures show at bottom

I wanted to see if there was a second door reinforcing the entryway. There wasn’t; it was wide open. I returned to my apartment and made plans. I knew this was pretty easy as far as entry -- it was wide open, but that also meant someone else may have been taking up residency inside.

That night I had a couple friends join me. We took our time slowly pacing up and down the block for about 10 minutes or so. Because it was a weeknight, traffic and pedestrians were not much of an issue. We waited till the streets were clear. I pretended to talk on my cell phone as my two buddies went in first; I followed after I confirmed that no one had seen them enter. I pulled the door closed tightly and secured it with a piece of wire hanging on the wall nearby. It appeared this is what the local homeless had been doing for their own security… So, when in Rome or Romanesque ruins… Once inside the entry was familiar, as they all are. Mold, asbestos, and decay lingered in the air. The one time focal point of the lobby, its beautiful marble stairs were hideously obscured by the tacky interior décor. Original brick walls were covered over by cheap wood paneling and the expensive Terrazzo marble floors were carpeted over with a funky green material. The mezzanine level looked like some awful rendition of a 1970s roller-skating rink complete with multi-colored striping. The cluttered look of the two lower floors gave the impression that this place was badly managed in its last few decades. Fire safety violations, among other obvious construction no-no's, were everywhere.

After the building ceased to be useful to the Wurlitzer family, it was sold to a real estate investor and developer Gerald Tobin, who let the neglected building become condemned after the heat and water were turned off in 1982, forcing the exodus of its various occupants. Tenants such as a furrier, a photographer, a salon and a record label were all forced out due to the slumlord’s inability to raise capital for the building’s much needed renovations. The building sat rotting away for many years until another controversial landlord, Paul Curtis, purchased the property for just over $210,000. As an owner he has done nothing to fix the building or even preserve it. He is now asking up to $2 million for the property. A hefty sum for a building that has been declared a health safety hazard. Since as far back as 2000, city building inspectors have been writing warnings and documenting the unsafe conditions. Public records show that the city issued tickets in 2003 for falling tiles and a very dangerous fire escape.

When we reached the penthouse of the Wurlitzer, it was very different than I had imagined it would be. The ceilings were two floors high with large glass block skylights. Pendulum lights dangled from above. I wondered if the original lights, presumably chandeliers, had been stolen or sold and replaced with generic light fixtures. Yellow and beige sandstone walls crumbled to reveal dark rusted mesh used in the 1920’s to hold plaster walls in place. Paint and stone peelings were covering a moist, green mossy floor. Large doorways cut into the dividing walls gave it an Aztec feel. I was pleasantly surprised to find this Spanish-inspired penthouse in the 1920s renaissance revival building. The place was rather shabby and plain, having decayed for 30 years, but glimpses of what it once looked like could be seen in the details.

The mighty Rudolph Wurlitzer and his subsequent lineage likely conducted business inside these very walls. It is also possible the hatchings of the jukebox exemption act were conceived here as well. A law passed in 1909 exempted jukebox owners from paying royalties to performers of music like all other commercial business had to do at the time. This was great for the Wurlitzers and essentially cleared the way for the entire industry.

I’m cautiously hopeful the city and the current owner will find a way to keep the Wurlitzer from becoming a pile of rubble. As the DEGC (Detroit Economic Growth Corporation) slowly erodes away our unique urban landscape, I wonder if there will be anything left in ten years; anything other than a sea of trash-strewn parking lots in place of these one-of-a-kind landmarks. If the sayings true; “they don’t build them like they used to”, then we must hold onto these classics and preserve them for future Detroiters to have and appreciate. It’s our culture. Its Detroit pride, and it shouldn’t be for sale.