Dearborn Mayor Michael Guido dies

Brandishing a Cheshire-Cat smile and a warm handshake, Dearborn Mayor Michael Guido never seemed to stop working. A typical day could include greeting visiting VIPs, marching in an elementary-school parade, sharing Ramadan dinners with Muslim residents and overseeing the city's vaunted services.

Guido said serving as the city's mayor was his dream job — and he proved it constantly during a remarkable 21-year tenure that made him one of the longest-serving mayors in metro Detroit.

On Tuesday, Guido, 52, died at his home after battling cancer for nine months.
“He was magnetic, absolutely magnetic,” said Wayne County Commissioner Gary Woronchak, a former state representative and newspaper editor who for 10 years hosted Guido's monthly call-in cable TV show. “People just naturally liked him. They were drawn to him.”

During five terms in office and part of a sixth, Guido established himself as a tireless promoter for his city, presiding over a renaissance for Dearborn, which was losing jobs, stores and population when he was growing up. In the past 30 years, the city — known for its large Arab-American population, the Henry Ford museum complex and Ford Motor Co.'s headquarters — has seen the rise of new retail, restaurants and commercial buildings, as well as the creation of the Ford Community & Performing Arts Center, which the city touts as the largest municipally owned recreation center in North America.

Unlike most of metro Detroit's older suburbs, the population — now estimated at about 100,000 — is growing.

As mayor, Guido could often be seen driving through Dearborn's neighborhoods, approaching residents and asking, “Can your mayor say hi?”

In the 2005 election, when he was running hard and spending big for a sixth term even though he had no opponent, Guido explained he was sending a message.
“I want people to know that I love what I do and I appreciate their support,” he said. “If you don't show that this means a lot for you, I think people think you take it for granted. I never take it for granted.”

Funny, self-deprecating and humble, Guido was still tough enough to flourish in Dearborn's sometimes rugged political environment. Critics said he had become arrogant as he continued in office, but even when someone challenged him, he never came close to losing an election.

A born ham, Guido sometimes led the singing at Sacred Heart Catholic Church and made cameo appearances as a pirate in the Dearborn Youth Theatre's productions of “Peter Pan.” He joined his sons in their grade-school talent shows, most recently performing a ventriloquist act. Guido played the dummy.

In his younger days, Guido was lead singer, bass player and trombonist in a wedding band named the Goldtones.

He died on the day of Dearborn's annual Christmas tree lighting – an event he loved to attend.

“He personified honor, humility and caring; traits sorely lacking in today's world. He could win over even the harshest critic with his wonderful sense of humor,” said Bill Ford, executive chairman of the Ford Motor Company, whose great-grandfather Henry turned Dearborn into a household word.
“He had a deep love for Dearborn, which was returned by all whom he touched,” Ford said of Guido. “I will miss him greatly.”

Guido — the name is pronounced GUY-doh — never strayed far from Dearborn politics. The son of Italian immigrants, he grew up in a flat near city hall, his father working for the city under Mayor Orville Hubbard in the city's building maintenance division. In 1977, when he was 23, he became the youngest person elected to the Dearborn City Council. Eight years later, he was the youngest person elected mayor, replacing John B. O'Reilly.

Doyne Jackson, a political operative and supporter of Guido's, remembered first meeting Guido at Camp Dearborn, the Milford-based park that is an example of the city's munificent services, for a campaign appearance while Guido was running for city council.

“Hubbard was the best I ever saw one on one with people,” said Jackson. “But Guido was the best I saw with a group.”

When Robert Saleh, a furniture store owner, told his 6-year-old daughter he was going to a dinner for Guido in 2001, she replied: “Make sure to say hi to him. He knows me.” She had met Guido at her school.

Often dressed in dapper suits and cufflinks, Guido spent hours just listening to people, hearing them vent about everything from unkept lawns to library hours. And he established a personal touch, mailing all residents calendars and photos of himself.

Even in predominantly Democratic Wayne County, Guido described himself as a moderate Republican, though he supported such Democrats as U.S. Rep. John Dingell and U.S. Sen. Carl Levin. This past summer, he became president of the U.S. Conference of Mayors, and could be seen on C-SPAN chairing meetings on homeland security with the leaders of some of the nation's biggest cities.

With its corporate headquarters, tourist attractions, nightlife, factories, shopping centers, colleges, long border with Detroit and large Mideastern community, Guido needed to be nimble when it came to such issues as globalization, foreign policy and race relations.

He didn't stumble often, but he became embroiled in several well publicized quarrels over the years.

Entering office in 1986, he inherited the controversy over an ordinance that banned non-residents from most of Dearborn's parks, a racially charged measure that resurrected images of Dearborn's segregationist past under longtime Mayor Hubbard. Guido voted against the ordinance while a member of the city council, but he pledged to enforce the ordinance as mayor. The courts ended the battle by declaring the law unconstitutional.

Unlike some suburban politicians, however, Guido rarely picked fights with Detroit. In 1991, he exchanged jobs with former Detroit Mayor Coleman Young, who singled him out for praise. After lunching with some ministers who had attacked the Dearborn park ordinance as racist, Guido said he “let them know the mayor of Dearborn isn't an ogre.”

Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick said Tuesday night the loss saddened him on a professional level – that Guido had been a confidant since he entered office five years ago and that he had succeeded in bridging the racial divide in the Arab-American, African-American and white communities.

Kilpatrick added: “On a very personal level, I can say that no one could sing Frank Sinatra like Mike Guido.”

Guido's relations with the city's Mideastern community were complicated. He had many Arab-American supporters, and he made a five-day trip to Lebanon in 2003. But others criticized him as insensitive and accused him of sometimes pandering to Dearborn's non-Arab majority, especially early in his mayoral career.

In the 1985 primary, Guido, who was trailing, released a brochure entitled “Let's talk about  the Arab problem.” In it, Guido took issue with the prospect of bilingual, bicultural education for Dearborn's large Arab-American population. He surged ahead in the polls, and for years afterward, Arab-Americans cited it as an example of unfair treatment in the city.

But following the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, Guido rushed to squash rumors that Arab-Americans were celebrating and had the police department prepared to prevent any backlash against the community. As a result, Dearborn saw little, if any, of the anti-Arab sentiment that swept some parts of the U.S. Guido also appointed the first Arab-American department head in the city's history.

“He was a true leader who rose to the challenge,” after the Sept. 11 attacks, said Imad Hamad, regional director of the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee. “Despite the political disagreements some may have had with the mayor, that doesn't take away his leadership and ability to move Dearborn ahead, for the betterment of Dearborn.”

Guido had political critics as well. In 1999, he was criticized when a pay raise that made him the second-highest paid mayor in Michigan was authorized by a commission whose members he appointed. There were also complaints in 2001, when Dearborn's new civic center opened, that mismanagement had resulted in millions of dollars in cost overruns.

But the $43 million Ford Performing Arts and Community Center was also one of Guido's proudest accomplishments, with its hi-tech gym, several auditoriums and a senior citizens center that's the envy of many other cities.

He had numerous other successes as well: During much of his tenure, property values in Dearborn rose consistently, a fact his supporters attributed to Guido's insistence on safe and clean neighborhoods. And while older suburbs across the nation have faced problems with decay, Guido played a key role in helping to revitalize business districts in both the west and east ends of the city. He kept the city's millage rate at the same level while maintaining Dearborn's generous services.

Other projects completed during his tenure included the expansion of the Dearborn Ice Skating Center, the construction of a new police headquarters and the expansion of Robert Herndon Dearborn Hills Golf Course.

Guido is survived by his wife, Kari Arvanigian Guido, an art teacher, and two sons, Michael,19, and Anthony, 14. Funeral arrangements are pending.

Guido announced in March he was undergoing treatment for cancer, telling City Council members he had a mass growing between his pancreas and liver.

While he was forced to curtail his schedule, Guido could still be seen around Dearborn frequently in the past several months. In May, he marched down Michigan Avenue as usual in the city's annual Memorial Day parade, dressed in a suit and tie despite withering heat.

In recent weeks, rumors swirled around Dearborn that Guido had taken a turn for the worse.

In the statement in which he revealed his illness, Guido said that “being mayor of my hometown is the greatest job in the world. This news doesn't change the fact that I love this job, and nothing can change my desire to serve the people of Dearborn.”