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Wednesday, February 7. 200' , - -a. < 5 B
University graduates are
hightaiting it out of the
tired city of Detroit, seek-
ing farme and fortune in
bigger cities like Chicago.
But in their rush fr the
border, they're rmissing
worlds along the way.
By Rob Migrin I Daily Staff Writer
f you're graduating, chances are you
have plans to move somewhere more
glamorous than Michigan. And fast.
Countless new University degree-
holders are fleeing the state for big
cities, but by putting their careers on the
fast track, they're missing everything else
along the way.
As students head straight to law firms
after graduation, fewer are joining the
Peace Corps, volunteering or heading to
Europe to find themselves. That internship
might be a quick way to get where you're
going, but the final destination isn't always
as fulfilling.
The highway to Chicago is an alluring
path for many students.
A car speeding down 1-94 away from
Tiger Stadium toward the Windy City
is exactly where many students picture
themselves after graduation. But before
the giant highway existed, a smaller road,
US-12, served as the main route to Chi-
cago.
The route began as a foottrail named
the Great Sauk Trail. It slowly widened
as settlers began to travel south of
Michigan more extensively. The road
was paved in the 1920s, designated as a
highway in 1926 and officially named US-
12 in 1961. It begins in Detroit as Michi-
gan Avenue and runs almost directly to
Chicago, then eventually to Washington
State.
Along the road lie towns even Michi-
ganders have never heard of: New Buffalo,
Three Oaks, Galien and White Pigeon,
which blend into a dull blur out the win-
dow, lend character and color to a drive
down US-12. People in each town call the
road something different - in Coldwater,
they call it Chicago. In Detroit it's Michi-
gan Avenue. In some spots, it's called the
Great Sauk Trail.
In late December, dozens of Stryofoam
snowmen were leaning up against Stan-
ley Johnson's trailer, which was parked in
his front yard. Johnson lives in Irish Hills,
about 45 minutes outside of Ann Arbor,
in a house that looks directly over US-12.
He was selling the snowmen for $5 a hit,
but when I didn't have exact change, he
gave me one for free. Johnson does OK
business with travelers down the high-
way, he said, but the highway is becoming
increasingly less used as smoother and
more direct expressways are paved across
the state. He sells more snowmen in Ann
Arbor to his co-workers at Mott Women's
and Children's Hospital.
In Sturgis, I stopped for a cup of coffee
off the highway, which is also the main
street of the town. The young man behind
the counter looked at me scornfully when
he saw I was reading the local Sturgis
newspaper.
Apparently even young people in the
towns littered along the highway have a
different destination in mind. Bigger cit-
ies and brighter futures can be an effec-
tive distraction to anyone - especially if
you're living in Detroit or Sturgis.
He tossed me a copy of The Chicago
Tribune. "Here, you can read a real paper,"
he said.
TOP: A few blocks away from the eastern terminus of US-12, Michigan Avenue and Cass Street.
ABOVE: The Prehistoric Forest in the Irish Hills was once a tourist attraction for many travelers on the highway. The park is now closed
and has been on sale for several years.
FAR LEFT: Stanley Johnson and his son Tyler stand by their trailer on the side of US-12. The trailer was filled with snowmen Johnson was
selling to passersby. He says he does better business with his co-workers at the Motts Chilren's Hospital in Ann Arbor. His generosity
might keep him from turning a significant profit though - he said he's not completely averse to giving snowmen out for free.
LEFT: This book store in Allen, Mich. claims to have more 102,000 used books. Although the main part of the store was closed for the
season, a separate, smaller shop was open. The "Honorbooks" sectionof the store is serve-yourself, with a jar where people can leave
money for the books they take.