When commuting to work every day, many things may escape the sight of passersby, but for Robert Allen, it was the images on his morning commute that inspired his recent project, ‘Fading Ads of Detroit.’

In the fall of 2015, while living on the 12th floor of his apartment complex, Robert Allen noticed a vintage ad outside of his apartment window on the neighboring building. Seeing this ad, along with other old advertisements such as the Sanders façade, every morning on his walk to work at the Detroit Free Press, Allen began to see the ghosts of Detroit’s history apparent on the downtown infrastructure.

“As part of job, I’m looking for stories, and there is nothing more obvious than what is on my commute,” Allen said. “I wanted to scratch the surface.”

Inspired, Allen decided to compile photographs, taken with his iPhone, of these vintage advertisements in order to share the stories of local businesses and individuals of old downtown Detroit.

“I wanted to connect human experience with signs,” Allen said. “I wanted to show why they matter to Detroit’s history, and show adversity, weird things that have happened, and a uniquely Detroit story.”

Allen’s photography and historical project started in the spring of 2017, which, according to Allen, was an “important year for Detroit, because the sports teams came back to the city, it had been 50 years since the riots, and was the first ground break for the skyscrapers in Detroit.”

The first advertisement Allen decided to document was a large yellow rectangle with a forest-green curly font of Vernor’s Ginger Ale, which he discovered via “tip by email.”

“When I first moved to Detroit, all the old buildings were foreclosed, abandoned, boarded up, then a heinous crime would occur, and the building would be burnt down,” Allen said. “Signs were hidden from view, but after buildings were demolished, would come into full view exposing the old [advertisements].”

Another sign Allen discovered was a Mac-O-Lac Paints advertisement, which he called “special,” due to the story’s association with the Detroit Free Press and community spirit.

According to Allen, a WWI Polish military war prisoner fell in love with a German woman. They moved to the States, beginning a new life in Detroit, MI. His wife quickly became pregnant, and the husband was selling his blood in order to support his family. He sold so much blood, he eventually fainted one evening. After coming to his senses, he entered a bar, and with the few scruples he had left, bought a drink and told the bartender his story.

The bartender eventually shared the story with the Detroit Free Press, and they ran the story. Within 24 hours, community spirit was sparked and outreach was birthed, as the Mac-O-Lac Paint Company interviewed the man and offered him a job. Allen interviewed his son about the story.

Other advertisements Allen included within his compilation were Mail Pouch Tobacco– most commonly found on barns, but this one is particularly rare being found on the side of an urban building – on Michigan Ave, and Kovac’s Bar which was recently torn down for the building of the new Gordie Howe Bridge, which will provide an access point between Detroit and Canada.

One particular advertisement of Stroh’s was probably the least recognizable among Allen’s photographs. In order to envision the sign, one would have to blur their vision to make out the cursive typography. According to Allen, the advertisement proves unique because it is promoting, not Stroh’s beer, but rather a bakery!

Torn down for the purposes of new community gardens, the Chene Ferry Market bordered with black and white typography will be transformed into Recovery Park occupying nearly 22 blocks, with inmates producing food in the gardens for local residents, according to Allen.

The most significant of Allen’s stories and photographs included Brooksey’s Exclusive Social Club, “reopened in 2001…[and] the only bar and restaurant for about 10 blocks on Warren Avenue in Detroit,” and advertised with a large illustration honoring its founder Brooksey James Irvine’s Jr.’s late father in his “mustachio and suit” who passed away in 2000, according to Allen’s narrative.

“I arrived at Brooksey’s on a Wednesday in December 2017, finding a warm and inviting, lively scene with all the barstools occupied and a few games of pool underway,” Allen writes. “The server walked around with samples of steak bites, and as the band started setting up near the sprung-wooded dance floor, Irvine told me why this place exists. Growing up as the youngest of six children, he always admired his father, a musician who performed jazz.”

According to Allen, Irvine said his father “used to light up the neighborhood.”

Through Brooksey’s reopening, Allen said that not only was a part of family and Detroit history preserved, but so was a focus on preserving and serving the community.

Allen said that since old advertisements are incapable of being saved in museums, and, with new city infrastructure are being torn down regularly — such as the building showcasing the Rathnaw Suits ad, which is scheduled to be torn down within the upcoming year — he can preserve history through these photographs and stories.

“That’s why I wrote the book,” Allen said. “A number of buildings have already disappeared.”

After Allen’s lecture on his new book “Fading Ads of Detroit,” students responded with a fresh curiosity of Detroit’s art and what it represented for previous neighborhoods and people.

“As somebody who is not from this area, it was wonderful to hear about art from a new city and I’m looking forward to looking into more of this art in industrial areas,” sophomore Adriana Maljanian said. “I’ve read about the industrial era during WWII in Detroit, and it’s really interesting to hear about the different ethnicities and areas in Detroit.”

Even more than just general knowledge and research, Allen showed his keen eye and ability to make the mundane interesting, according to Assistant Director of the Dow Journalism Program and former colleague of Allen, Maria Servold.

“I think the book is a great showcase of his ability to find unique stories, and be able to tell them interestingly,” Servold said. “Most people would just drive past them and ignore them, but he knows there’s a story there, and that’s a mark of a good reporter.”