Tim Skubick

The Michigan state capitol has a rich history of playing host to a long list of protest demonstrations, including one recently featuring about 4,000 road builders demanding a new road fix package. More on that after this.

Here are some of the history-making events on the front lawn.

After the MSU students, majoring in burning down buildings 101, demonstrated their prowess on the ROTC Dem Hall on campus to protest the Vietnam carnage, many of them turned to a more peaceful and acceptable form of protest. Upwards of 10,000 marched from the Red Cedar River, down Michigan Avenue some six miles or so to let lawmakers know they wanted the war to end. The Social Study majors in the crowd knew state lawmakers were powerless to do squat about that other than to pass a meaningless resolution urging the Congress to do something. Such a gesture was not worth the paper it was written on.

Nonetheless, onward they walked with Dr. Walter Adams, the interim president, leading the way with an impressive cast of politicos at his side.

As the dome came into clearer view, a rookie reporter who had walked the route from the safety of the adjacent sidewalk suddenly rushed out into the street and took a spot next to Dr. Adams, seeking a comment. The savvy econ prof knew a thing or two about public relations and quickly concluded. If the TV cameras and newspaper photogs had snapped a picture at that moment when a member of the capitol press corps was at the head of the protest line, what little chance of a successful future this wet-behind-the-ears political reporter might have would evaporate in a twinkle of an eye… You can’t be a disinterested/objective reporter if it looks like you are against the war.

With the demonstrators behind him shouting the “One, two, three, four, We don’t want your ( ) war,” Dr. Adams, in a fatherly whisper, leaned into the reporter’s ear, “You should not be here.”

No road map was needed to get back quickly to the non-partisan sidewalk where a certain somebody’s future was out of harm’s way.

Fast forward to the day when the thousands of college kids were replaced by what looked like a winter blizzard in the U.P.

About 20,000 Michigan doctors decked out in their white lab coats were demonstrating for some legislative malpractice insurance relief. Their age-old beef with lawyers had come to a head, with many doctors getting out of the office for good because of the cost associated with being sued every time they lifted a stethoscope. They eventually got some reform and didn’t charge for the house (and senate) call.

Then there was the day when two guys carried a coffin around the rotunda on the second floor between both house and senate chambers. The sign on the outside read “Michigan business is inside.” The protest came at a time when the Michigan Chamber of Commerce was darn near the 800-pound gorilla in state politics. It was demanding relief from the state’s pro-labor worker compensation laws that produced, the chamber argued, outrageous and expensive bennies for injured workers. Labor took a hit and business got a break.

Years later, the sides faced off again. This time, instead of a coffin, there were horses outside the capitol. On the horses were county sheriff deputies. There were called in just in case the pitched battle over repealing Michigan’s long-standing Right to Work law got ugly. All the elements were in play to produced just that.

Standing out in the frigid December winter weather were labor union workers demanding a no vote on the repeal from the Michigan House where Republican lawmakers sat in the warmth of their confidence that they had the votes to send the protestors home empty-handed. And they did.

GOP Gov. Rick Snyder quickly signed the bill and looked out his second story Romney building office window and declared “now the protestors can go home.”

They didn’t and suffered a labor setback the likes of which had never been seen before. RTW was quickly restored after the Democrats took control of the house and senate and new Gov. Gretchen Whitmer was more than eager to undo what the R’s had done years before.

Which brings us to the “fix the roads” rally. For months, the road construction lobbyists had been telling reporters that Michigan was headed for a financial cliff. The governor’s $3 billion dollar road bonding program was running out of gas and without new revenue, the storyline some 20,000 workers building roads here would go to other states where there was enough money to actually fix the darn roads. And they added this coda to that prediction. “And they won’t come back.”

Inside the capitol, lawmakers obviously heard the noise outside, but the key players who had the power to reach a deal were not moved. They could still do it, but if protestors were hoping for a quick fix, they went back to their road building machines with nada.

And in reality, that is pretty much the bottom line for the bulk of demonstrations over the last 50 years or so. Lots of complaining from those outside the building and lots of deaf ears inside. Yet they still come.

(P.S. Thanks, Dr. Adams, and rest in peace.)