A Grand Old Party for the G.O.P.

The conventioneers' verdict: Detroit was a wow

The opening-night reviews were boffo, and the show got better as it went along. "They've done a spectacular job," said former North Carolina Governor James E. Holshouser Jr. "I came up here very skeptical, but the city went out of its way to make us feel welcome. Detroit is the third convention city I've visited, and it's by far the best."

From Ronald Reagan on down, Republicans last week expressed surprise, delight and, finally, gratitude for the welcome they received at their 32nd convention. At the outset of his acceptance speech, Reagan thanked the city for its "warm hospitality," and the delegates seconded that emotion with cheers and applause. During breakfast the next morning, Reagan again praised Detroit Mayor Coleman Young for a job well done. Agreed G.O.P. Chairman Bill Brock: "I'm getting overwhelming compliments about Detroit. This city has busted its rear."

Indeed it had, in ways large and small. In the months before the delegates arrived, some 30 crumbling buildings were razed and another 50 or so were boarded up or painted. More than 10,000 trees and shrubs were planted along highways, and flags and bunting were hung on 400 downtown lampposts. Some 2,000 policemen of the city's 4,800-man force patrolled the downtown area, five times the usual number. And the mayor averted disaster by settling an eleven-day strike by sanitation workers and bus drivers just three days before the convention began.

When the 4,000 delegates and alternates came to town, the city lived up to its convention slogan: DETROIT LOVES A GOOD PARTY. Local Republicans held cocktail parties and cookouts, staged boat rides and concerts. North Carolina delegates were feted at a reception in Grosse Pointe Shores thrown by Ralph Wilson, owner of the N.F.L. Buffalo Bills. The Minnesota delegation was treated to a luncheon and fashion show at a suburban branch of Saks Fifth Avenue department store, and South Dakota delegates enjoyed a cookout at the Detroit Yacht Club. Under a huge tent at Stroh's Brewery, hundreds of visitors quaffed free bottles of Detroit's suds while listening to a five-piece country-and-western band that appeared to know a song for every state.

Hart Plaza, the two-block esplanade on the Detroit River that connects the Joe Louis Arena and the gleaming silos of the Renaissance Center, became a kind of urban village green. As delegates strolled by, hawkers peddled goods ranging from elephant baseball hats to Ronald Reagan dolls. Exotic odors of ethnic cooking wafted through the square, and an $8,000 display of fireworks lit up the night sky on the eve of the convention.

Mayor Young and most of Detroit's citizens were deservedly pleased with their city's performance. Said Young: "Our objectives have been realized. We felt the convention would give us a chance to portray Detroit in a new light, rather than as a crime-ridden, no-hope city." A good many delegates would be willing to return. "We're booked to leave the first thing tomorrow," lamented Nevada Alternate Delegate Mahlon Faust as the convention ended. "We didn't think Detroit would be this interesting." qed

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.