What do you do with seven giant glass tubes sticking out of the ground that happen to be the most famous and distinctive feature of your city’s skyline? That’s the question folks around Detroit are asking ever since General Motors CEO Mary Barra announced the company is moving its world headquarters out of the Renaissance Center next year to a new building about a mile north.

Some say tear it all down. Barra promised GM and the developer still putting the finishing touches on the building to which the automaker is moving will work to, um, reimagine the colossal architectural beast.

Yes, I call it a beast that should actually never have been imagined.

Some context. I lived in Atlanta for eight years in the 1980’s when I worked for CNN. It’s where I saw the first iteration of what would grow to become the actual center of the Renaissance Center.

You see, the architect John Portman built his first tubular monstrosity in the city of a hundred streets with Peachtree in their names…and now, one hotel..the Peachtree Plaza. The single glass tube instantly became the key feature of Atlanta’s skyline, showcased in every image of the growing city’s downtown.

The first time I landed in Atlanta for my interview at CNN in 1981, I looked north from the terminal and saw that thing sticking up like a 12-year boy’s first real boner. The city Sherman burnt down was rising again and finally reaching puberty.

Thankfully, over the years, as Atlanta grew, so did its skyline and Portman’s glass pipette is less prominent.

Here in Detroit Henry Ford II, the Deuce, figured he’d more than double what Portman planted in Dixie and, together with Detroit leaders, commissioned the architect to duplicate Atlanta’s Peachtree Plaza, but then surround it with four octagonal office buildings all connected by a network of passageways that would challenge even the most accomplished spelunkers.

The new Renaissance Center, or RenCen, would become the symbol of Detroit…the Renaissance City. Planted on the banks of the Detroit River, facing Windsor, Canada, the RenCen overshadowed and loomed over older landmark downtown buildings such as the Penobscot and Guardian to herald the Motor City’s vitality and prominence, or at least assert it.  

If anything, the RenCen was a photogenic feature that made for effective marketing materials.

Less than 20 years later it all went bad.

In 1989 I was transferred by CNN from Atlanta to Detroit to become its new bureau chief and correspondent. The company had me spend a few days getting to know the staff and the city before moving here. They put me up in what was then the Omni Hotel in the Millender Center…connected to the RenCen by a short pedestrian bridge over Jefferson Avenue.

Of course, I had heard of the RenCen and decided, one evening, to explore this famous landmark. As soon as I entered it from the pedway I felt like a piece of dust might feel as it’s sucked into the collection bag of a Hoover. It was dark and directionless, with scant chance of quick escape.

If I was a mouse seeking a piece of cheese I would starve before finding the morsel since there was no apparent logic to the labyrinth’s layout. I wasn’t dumb enough to attempt to explore the complex because it was just too, well, complex. So I returned, disappointed, to my hotel room.

Not long after I moved up to Detroit and was with my camera crew, I returned with them to the RenCen to shoot an interview with a prominent economist at Comerica Bank which had offices in one of the towers. We weaved in and out between the towers and concourses searching for the right tube to ascend to reach our destination. We were late. We apologized. The economist laughed as he said, “This place sucks. Everyone gets lost…the first dozen times they come here.”

Another time, years later, as I was heading to a meeting a very upset man came up to me. “You look like you know your way around. Please, I heard there’s an ATM here. Can you direct me?”

Deciding this person was an honest Joe who did not deserve to have his hopes and dreams crushed, I looked him in the eye and said, “Sir. Even if I told you, you’d never find it. There’s a bank right across the street. Just head for the daylight of the exit and never stop. I want you to see your family again.”

The man instantly did as he was told. He knew. The RenCen’s tubes would suck you up like bacteria in a test lab.

The place not only didn’t make sense, but it wasn’t making any money as tenants fled to locations where employees, customers and clients could reasonably expect to find their destinations without the utter frustration of being caught in a glass and concrete hamster cage.

Just as it was given up for dead, in 1996 GM bought the place at a bargain rate and moved its world headquarters there from an historic building a couple of miles north. The automaker saved the day. Instantly, thousands of people occupied offices, supported the stores and restaurants. The RenCen had a new life!

Not so fast. Shortly after GM made the move we had an interview booked with then GM CEO Jack Smith. Nice guy. The interview was for our annual auto show special and our producer wanted to use lots of lights.

We plugged ‘em in. Our lights, and all the lights on the floor, went out. Guess the building wasn’t quite ready for prime time…or any time that required extra voltage. It took a few minutes, but the electricians did their magic and we smartly reduced our lighting scheme.

Smith was cool about it. “I guess there’s still some work to be done,” he said with an embarrassed chuckle.

There was plenty of work still to be done.

 GM poured millions upon millions to finally take some of the mystery of navigating the maze with a simple innovation called the circulation ring. No more weaving in and out. Take the ring like a big traffic roundabout and bail out when you reached the exit closest to your destination. The big berms that walled off the complex from the rest of the city were torn down and the soaring Wintergarden was built, offering a bright gathering venue and passageway to the Detroit River.

Then Covid hit. People started working from home. The RenCen returned to its ghostly, pre-GM silence. After the pandemic abated, Barra said workers needed to return three days a week, but by then many of them had already relocated to other GM facilities and others just never returned.

It became time to find a smaller place for the automaker to park.

So what to do with it when Mary and all her sheep settle in their new pasture?

Some say to knock it down. Others imagine apartments, condos, restaurants, some commercial space.

In another era, it might have served well as a garrison guarding Detroit against hostile canon fire from gunboats on the Detroit River. Ah..Fort Renaissance! Tower 400 forever! We have secured the circulation ring! Remember the Marriott! It’s enough to make one forget the Alamo, which is much, much smaller and has an expensive gift shop.

Only because I’m semi-retired and have the time, I think about the future of the Renaissance Center. To demolish it would just add tons of waste to the environment. To save it would just leave tons of waste above ground where at least squatters could literally lose themselves for awhile.

Maybe get Carvana to turn one of the towers into its most giant vehicle vending machine. Wouldn’t you love to see your late model Buick do a swan dive from the 39^th floor? Good way to test its shocks.

Offer bungie and parachute jumping over the river. Just make sure you packed your passport in case the winds make you wind up in Windsor.

Fill one tower with infused water for all those enjoying Detroit’s magnificent River Walk. Lotsa taps all around the tower where walkers, joggers, cyclists could fill their Stanley cups, less than a mile from where the Detroit Red Wings won their Stanley Cups. Joe Louis Arena is long gone but the ground remains hallowed. Hey…it’s all marketing, go with it.

In reality, the RenCen will probably become the banal “mixed-use” property with a variety of residences, hotels, stores, restaurants and maybe once in a while, sponsored races around the circulation ring.

I can’t wait to see how Mary Barra and master developer Dan Gilbert will reimagine the RenCen, because love it or hate it, it would be a colossal shame if our city’s signature bundle of glass towers was allowed to go down the tubes.