Her Second Act

By David Thigpen / Detroit

A year ago, at age 64, with more than 40 years in the record business and a dozen Top 40 hits under her sequined belt, former Motown star Martha Reeves arrived at the moment every professional entertainer dreads. The phone didn't ring as often as before, and the concert bookings were thinning out. So Reeves did the same as millions of people in their 50s and 60s who are facing the end of a career they love: she looked around for a new one that could put to work the skills she had honed in her first. And that is how last fall found Reeves running for a seat on Detroit's city council.

"It was all about instinct and impulse and a decision at the last minute," she admits. But it was also a savvy move that built on her two biggest assets: fame and a familiarity with the city. Her platform was simple to the point of seeming simplistic: cut crime and promote Detroit as a tourist attraction for music. But after four decades as lead singer of Martha and the Vandellas, Reeves knew how to move a crowd. She campaigned almost as easily as she had once made hits like Heat Wave and Dancing in the Streets. And she won her seat.

Reeves credits her ability to make the transition to politicking from performing to advice she got from Maxine Powell, the famed etiquette coach at Motown. Powell, who trained artists like Reeves, Smokey Robinson and Diana Ross in skills ranging from dealing with the media to knowing which fork to use at a formal dinner, emphasized the importance of being able to cope with change. "One thing Maxine always taught us," Reeves recalls, "is that you have to have a life outside of music. Invest in yourself some other way, she said, because you can lose the money and the fame, and then where are you?"

Reeves took that lesson to heart. Even while her singing career flourished, she maintained a steady presence in Detroit, making her home in a downtown high-rise apartment with her son Eric, attending the True Rock Baptist Church every Sunday she was in the city and becoming a visible town booster who frequently popped up at school career days.

But although running for office may tap some of the same know-how as putting on a show, legislating has required Reeves to develop new abilities. During most council meetings, as her eight colleagues debate taxes and other municipal business, Reeves quietly takes notes. Pointing to the sea of paper on her office desk, she says, "The more I read and the more I get these stacks of paper to a livable level, I feel that I'm adjusting to the job well."

She's also learning that the adulation she is accustomed to receiving as an entertainer can now sometimes be mixed with a few boos. In June she suffered a political embarrassment when a local newspaper revealed that several properties she owns around Detroit had code violations. Reeves says she has resolved the problems. "Sometimes people like you; sometimes they are ready to throw things at you," she says. "I was used to people cheering for me everywhere I go. My son Eric said, 'Mom, toughen up. It comes with the territory. Stop whining.' So I took his advice." She has not decided yet whether she will run again when her term is up in 2010. But if she doesn't, she already has something to fall back on. Since the election--and the publicity that surrounded it--her concert bookings have picked up again.