The Hippo That Saved Detroit

Hippos are like any other freight: They have to be boxed, lifted onto a truck, and transported to their destination.

Hence, on a warm September day a tractor-trailer rig was making its way north on I-75 in Detroit to deliver a hippo to the zoo.

It was bright and sunny and just before noon. A truly uneventful day in the life of the truck driver. Until two things happened: he received a call on his cell phone that diverted his attention; and a small utilitarian car swerved into his path to get off the expressway at the McNichols Road exit.

The truck driver veered right, so as not to crash into the small car. The big rig’s cab went east, but its trailer went north. The load: A 6,000 pound adult male hippopotamus. The trailer smashed into the concrete abutment that serves to hold up the McNichols Road bridge. The driver jumped from the cab onto the grassy shoulder in time to watch his rig crash. It didn’t burn, but the impact separated every panel on the trailer, exposing to the world a hippo so large it seemed to dwarf everything around it.

As the driver watched, the trailer tipped until it fell onto its side, the hippo crate settling right there on the expressway. Wood splintered and broke apart, the safety measures taken to build this special crate laughingly failing. The hippo tumbled out of the crate and rolled onto his back in the middle of I-75 northbound. Cars swerved, or stopped, or hit the brakes to stop. There was squealing from rubber tires, crunching of metal fenders, cries of alarm from drivers and passengers.

A man got out and yelled, "Call 9-1-1. Call 9-1-1." People did, but it was too late.

The hippo, looking at his strange surroundings, opened his mouth wide like hippos do when they feel threatened. His teeth were the size of gate posts. His yawn was so huge he could swallow a small car. The guttural sound he made caused your throat to tighten.

Then the hippo got underway. Confused, but exhilarated by freedom, he headed west along a path that would take him onto McNichols Road. Cars that weren’t damaged by the sudden stop, were now trampled by a beast so aggressive the alligators and lions of Africa keep a healthy distance.

Friendly looking in the zoo, rolling on its back in a tub of water, splashing like it is all show and no go, the zoo hippo delights. A wild hippo on the loose in the city of Detroit is cause for one thing: fear!

A woman driver, scared for her young daughter in a car seat, backed her vehicle on the expressway shoulder until she felt safe, watching the hippo climb up a grassy embankment leading to McNichols Road. The hippo is a grass eater, so it is no wonder it stopped to eat grass on the embankment. In urban fashion, of course, the grass was peppered with glass bottles, tin cans, newspapers, and other trash. Seeming to be displeased, the hippo spent little time eating grass, and now seemed to be following a script that led him to terrorize motorists and pedestrians.

The sounds of police sirens started to infiltrate the warm September air. Their approaching closeness sparked the hippo to go west, and west he lumbered, all three tons of flesh. Where there was a chain-link fence along the expressway berm, it no longer stood as the hippo flattened it and marched across it like a conquering hero.

People waiting for the bus fled. A lone pedestrian jumped into the cargo bed of a passing pickup truck.

There is a ramshackle hardware on the corner of McNichols and Obaysch St. Customers entering and leaving stopped to stare: What am I seeing? A hippo? On the streets of Detroit?

As the hippo got closer, and people realized what they were seeing was real, they headed to their vehicles. Unfortunately, what had been a prime parking spot in front of the store, now turned out to be a really bad place to have parked. The hippo, showing no regard for the expense of the vehicle, shiny and new with big chrome wheels, butted it like an enemy locked in a mortal fight. The driver could only hang on to the steering wheel as the hippo made it his personal goal to turn the big sport utility onto its roof to the sound of crunching glass, its front tires spinning slowly, the driver upside down held only by his seatbelt.

Overhead news helicopters were settling in with their cameras recording the hippo at work. Police helicopters were there, fire trucks, police cars, SWAT teams, and citizens with their own guns. Like any customer, the hippo went through the front doors of the hardware. Except he took the entire wall with him.

Customers scattered. Employees ran for the rear door. The owner, feeling obliged to do something, grabbed a round-point shovel. The last thing he did in life was take a swing at the hippo, not knowing that the hippo is Africa’s most aggressive animal. The owner’s body was recovered later under the rubble the hippo left behind.

By now the hippo was the only living being in the hardware. He acted like the store was his own. He trampled through the garden section, knocking all the shovels and rakes down, then broke through the glass case where customers get keys made only to find the office up a short staircase. From there he bullied his way through the paint section, and hardware section, leaving nothing standing or in place, Cash registers were flattened by his heavy feet, displays were knocked over by a huge body that showed no respect for aisles created for humans.

Police were at a disadvantage. Had the hippo stayed outdoors, they could have shot it. Now, even the SWAT team was reluctant to enter the hardware. But alas, not to worry, the angry hippo was in the process of decimating the hardware store, and would soon emerge through the rear wall onto an asphalt parking lot where he quickly identified the dumpster as a new enemy. It went over like a toy, trash spilling everywhere.

The hippo must have been hungry because he stopped his rampage as suddenly as he had begun. There in a vacant lot behind the hardware was plenty of grass, unmowed all summer, tall and swinging in the September breeze. The hippo stood in the grassy lot, now eating the tall grass like the world’s most docile pet.

Zoo officials finally arrived, and in a short second shot enough tranquilizers into the the hippo to put the entire city of Detroit to sleep. So, the big 6,000 pound animal finally fell to its side.

From there, it was easy. A fork lift hoisted the animal onto a truck where it was strapped down and driven to the Detroit Zoo. You can see him there anytime you go. He leads a quite life, behind barriers, with plenty of water to splash in, for hippos spend most of their life in water, even giving birth there.

But this is not just a story about a hippo that got loose in Detroit.

It is the story about what happened afterwards.

Yes, the hardware owner died in the rampage. But his family decided to rebuild the store as a monument to their father. They wanted to build the Taj Mahal of hardware stores, they loved their father so much. It took a year, but when it was done, the hardware on the corner of McNichols and Obaysch St. was so obvious a shining jewel in Detroit that customers came from all over the midwest to see it. It’s selections were vast and unique; its architecture something that would impress Frank Lloyd Wright; it’s service an example to even Rodeo Drive in Hollywood.

That stretch of McNichols Road had been a wreck of burned out homes, boarded up wood frame buildings, businesses no longer in business, cars left abandoned. It had been like that for years and was getting worse.

Until the hippo started the rebuilding of Detroit.

The people who live in that area of McNichols saw what could happen when something of value is built and maintained, and they started, slowly, to tear down the embarrassments, and build small homes and stores that anyone would be proud of.

The owner of the pizza store across the street went about painting and remodeling. The gas station owner bought new pumps. Even the junkyard put up a new fence.

Yes, the rebuilding of Detroit started right there, on that stretch of McNichols Road, where one of God’s prized creatures from Africa, showed everyone that if it’s broke, somebody better fix it.

As this is written, remodeling projects are moving across Detroit like a prairie grass fire. People are cleaning up the city. They are spending free time raking up the trash along the expressways, painting children’s playground equipment in the parks, and demanding that their neighbors get on board to clean up the neighborhood.

As Detroit started to get international attention for its rebuilding, the citizens thanked each other. That’s okay.

Having read the real story, you know it all started with the hippo that saved Detroit.