
Is Downtown Pontiac Broken?
The local business owners anchoring downtown have hope, but there are simply too many empty or shut storefronts
Pontiac — On a weekday afternoon, there are a few people out walking in front of these art deco buildings. They do not seem to notice the ornate stonework or metallurgical masterpieces with green patina overhead.
These flourishes are reminders of what Pontiac once was and what it could be again. When I visited, I heard several different visions of what the city could become, because I talked to several people who believe in its revival.
According to Dean Bevacqua, owner of downtown comic book store Pulp Planet, the city is coming back. But it could do more to make sure landlords are leasing their buildings instead of letting them sit empty.

It also needs to take care of the remnants of the Saginaw Green Maker Village, a project of Main Street Pontiac funded by a $50,000 grant from General Motors in 2024.
“Saginaw Green Maker Village is intended to become a hub of activity year-round,” says a grant announcement website page. “The sheds will be leased through an application process at low cost to food and retail makers of Pontiac based products and wares, and various activities would be programmed at the location such as music and children's games to create a welcoming and community public space.”

Sounds nice!
Bevacqua says what actually happened was that the electricity was pretty hard to rig up, and no one wanted to use them. It wasn’t long before the new sheds were shuttered and homeless people moved in and started defecating in the park.
Now the project is a liability for the rest of the businesses downtown that are trying to tempt people to come spend some time and money here—Pulp Planet is just a few hundred feet from the “hub of activity.”

Bevacqua’s store is one of the nicest in Pontiac. I heartily recommend it to any comic book aficionados in Metro Detroit. There’s an extensive selection at good prices (at least to my untrained eye).
Bevacqua told me he hopes someone will start selling vinyl records and open a vintage clothing store nearby to attract collectors and enthusiasts to downtown. After visitors shop, they can see a show in one of the remodeled venues nearby.
There’s the Flagstar Strand Theatre, the Pontiac Little Art Theatre, and a bunch of other event venues around the city. It’s easy to see how someone could shoot down I-75 for an afternoon and evening of shopping and entertainment.

Designed Mindfully is another top-notch retail location, with tastefully curated home goods and house plants. There’s a strong emphasis on local artists and creators. It smells much nicer than the Saginaw Green Maker Village.
In that vein, there’s also The Foundry, which has vendor booths filled with goods, gift ideas, and vintage curios. The curated shopping is pleasant, and the building is historic and grand.

A pawn shop has its doors wide open. It’s doing fine. It’s been around for 47 years. Pawn shops always survive.
These are some of the bright spots of Pontiac’s revitalization inside the iconic Woodward loop. But at this point, you can count them on two hands.
Sometimes, I’d think a coffee shop or restaurant was open only to find the doors locked. The surprise wears off a bit after trying two or three different businesses that are empty but should be ready for customers.

There’s no easy way to make something out of a broken city, but it seems possible talking to the store owners who are bullish on its rise. They’re willing to recast the city in their image. They’re staking their future on its success.
And as I join the few people walking around the city in the middle of the day, I get glimpses of what Pontiac could be again with enough investment and individual creativity.

Call it gentrification or beautification—anything would be better than all the wasted space and emptiness. And if it gets nice enough, people may want to live nearby, which would help businesses grow even more.
Hope in the future is infectious, but out of reach. It’s like the ornate facades that hang high over the heads of passersby who see everywhere the same sign in the street-level windows: “For Rent.”


