Hob Snobbing: What it really means to be a Detroit Snob



Nichole Christian with her grandmother, Mrs. Odom, her grandson

Larry Lewis and his son Landon, one of Mrs. Odom's

seven great-grand children.

When I started Detroit Snob about seven months ago, I had no idea how far it would go, or what a deep vein it would tap. It wasn’t long before I understood that Detroit Snob was about more than t-shirts – it was a way to herald the good things about the people who live in this region.

The media can point to all of the rumors of bankruptcy, all the pictures of “ruin porn,” all of the down-and-outs and has-beens. But Detroit Snobs don’t need others to tell our true story. Detroit Snobs are tireless, compassionate people who want the best for the city and are working against all odds to achieve just that.

The clearest demonstration came right before Christmas. I had recently reconnected with fellow journalist, Nichole Christian, after missing each other for months. Both of us were laid off from the Detroit Free Press in 2009, and since then, reinventing ourselves had become our singular obsession—and joy.


Then I got word. Nichole’s childhood home on Detroit’s Northend had gone up in flames in the wee morning hours of December 21.  

According to Nichole, a longtime neighbor who lived directly across the street saw the flames shooting from the house. The neighbor and her father rushed across the street to attempt to help Nichole’s grandmother, Mamie Odom, 90, and her two daughters, Minnie Lewis, 65, and Louise Warren, 70. Everyone escaped with just the clothes on their backs.

“It was a three-story house that my grandfather purchased in 1946—cash,” said Nichole. “He was a Ford Motor Company assembly worker. My grandparents had been lured to Detroit by the promise of good work. He promised my grandmother that with the good wages, he would buy her a house.”

Photo from the Odom Family
Support Page on Facebook

Photo from the Odom Family
Support Page on Facebook

The family gathered in a neighbor’s house and watched everything go up in flames: photos, furniture and three generations of memories.

After the shock of the early morning call, Nichole went into her “fix it” mode. She posted her family’s tragedy on Facebook, then waited until dawn to get help the old-fashioned way—on the phone. She called the WARM Training Center in Southwest Detroit for the name of a reputable construction crew to board up the house. Instead of referring her to another agency, Chris Rutherford, director of Warm's training programs, sent a truck load of volunteers and supplies.

“They acted from the kindness of their hearts, refusing to accept anything but a few slices of Little Caesars Pizza,” said Nichole. “They worked into the night.”

Me and Rachel Lutz, owner of The Peacock Room

I was grief-stricken, but taking Nichole’s lead, decided it was time for action, not tears. I posted an appeal on the Detroit Snob Facebook page for clothing donations. I contacted one of my retail partners, Rachel Lutz of the Peacock Room. Without hesitation, Rachel agreed to be a central location for donations.

The Detroit Snobs responded immediately. Within days, we had enough sweaters, coats, socks, blankets, pants and robes to keep Mrs. Odom snuggly for the next few months. We were able to deliver most of the clothing before Christmas.

“I've been overwhelmed watching the depth of Detroit's kindness, words and acts on behalf of my family,” said Nichole. “They’ve cooked, gathered clothing, nailed boards to the remains of the house, provided social service strategies and resources, supported a cash donation drive and shared amazing hugs with me and my cousins as we work to bring normalcy back to our family. The Detroit Snob clothing drive in particular returned an immediate sense of dignity."

When I arrived with the suitcases and hangers of clothing, Nichole was overcome. “ ‘How sweet the snobs of Detroit are!' was all I could think when you brought the heaps of coats, sweaters and other items to my door,” she said. “No city opens its heart wider than Detroit.''

As former newspaper journalists, both of us had often felt underappreciated for writing “feel good stories.”

“But in real life, those feel good stories are lifelines, a hand-up to people who can easily see themselves as forgotten,” said Nichole. “I never imagined my family would become the subject of a ‘feel good’ story. But I'm grateful that they have. Thanks to Detroit, my family has been given an amazing lifeline, blanketed by the kindness of friends, old neighbors and caring strangers.”

In particular, Mrs. Odom loved the black and white long sleeve coat donated by a Detroit Snob because it was reminiscent of a coat she once owned.  "Tell 'em I say thank you for remembering me,'' Mrs. Odom said."People don't have to care about you. I'm glad they did.''

Nichole said that her grandmother is faring well, and her Aunt Minnie is equally grateful to all of those strangers who have pitched in. Her Aunt Louise is still in the hospital, being treated for breathing complications.  

“Throughout this ordeal, I've been reminded of a Southern adage my grandmother told me, over and over, as a little girl,” said Nichole. "Treat people nice, with a kind smile and good word ‘cause you never know when you're gonna need them.''

 Nichole and I both know that it’s not just a Southern adage. That’s how Detroit Snobs roll.

Photo by Nichole Christian

Happy New Year, Detroit Snobs!

To help Mrs. Odom and her family, CLICK HERE.