Livonia — I’ve never left my hometown for any extended length of time, and while I’ve been pining for Livonia to be redeveloped and pulled out of its stagnancy, I’ve also taken for granted the unchanging parts of this community.
Bates Burgers is, and should remain, Livonia’s lone, unchanging time capsule from the 1950s. Retaining its iconic white ice-cubed shaped façade and stainless-steel interior, this landmark is visually unique. It’s not exactly an east-coast diner, but it’s nothing like the corporate fast-food joints that came after the McDonald’s revolution.
Situated in the central hub of Livonia at the intersection of Farmington and Five Mile Rd, kitty-corner from City Hall and looking like a White Castle from a distance, Bates somehow fits perfectly. Someone once mentioned to me Bates looked built out of LEGOs. In fact, in recent years The Henry Ford Museum has built a massive LEGO city for their Christmas display that includes a detailed model of Bates.
Of course, the draw for many are the sliders, which have sustained their allure even in our era of healthy eating and organic everything. Bates burgers are a treat, but probably not something to be eaten daily, because, well, how does one say it? They’re a blast to the system.
A quick-witted buddy once remarked with an expressionless demeanor: “You can’t go wrong with Bates. Down the hatch, in my stomach, and in the dumper in 15 minutes.” Like gas-station sushi, Bates Hamburgers can seem like a good idea at the time, but the recovery can be pernicious, resulting in declarations to family and friends of “Never again!”
For many of us Gen Xers—particularly those of us who grew up in the blast zone of Five Mile and Farmington—Bates now stands as a reminder of the before times.
Like the boys in “Stand By Me,” I walked with my band of troublemakers back in the 1980s along the alleyway leading directly to Bates. I’ve sat along the traffic railing with friends eating double cheeseburgers and trading hockey cards. I can neither confirm nor deny the possibly that I’ve even ran from the police in that alleyway, and through backyards like Ferris Bueller trying to achieve the safe sanctuary of home, a Bates burger in my hand.
Bates also has a special connection to the Livonia Spree for me. Before the constant communication of cell phones, friends had preordained checkpoints where sooner or later someone from your crew was showing up. Bates was ours.
The joint recalls a freer America: a looser lifestyle with less-involved parents who weren’t interested in surveilling their teenagers and business owners tolerating young teens hanging out in their parking lots long the night. Bates stands a small gleaming signal flare for that lost moment in time.
I’m hesitant to embrace nostalgia, but Bates is not that faded remnant. It’s stands athwart the slowly changing landscape.
“Bates is very much tied to the local community and the economy,” says Livonia Councilman Rob Donovic. “As goes Bates goes the city of Livonia; up and down, but remaining ever resilient in face of constant change.”
“If you go Bates on any given night, you see people from all over region getting takeout,” says Livonia resident Jerry Yatooma. “The place is a gem; It has charm. It’s one of the last 1950’s burger joints. I hope my kids come back home as adults to get Bates.”
Major changes are coming to the city soon. Major redevelopment is coming and planning is already afoot for multiple sectors of the city. These changes are drawing out a paranoid cohort of residents wholly adverse to change.
Untouched in all these decades is one corner of the city is a time machine for all residents. Bates hamburgers is Livonia yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
Jay Murray is a writer for Michigan Enjoyer and has been a Metro Detroit-based professional investigator for 22 years. Follow him on X @Stainless31.
