The use of flint is uniquely interlinked with the history of mankind. In the evolving relationship between humanity and the natural world, the provenance of flint as a resource is, arguably, unparalleled. Its continuing use today is simply another link in a long chain of association that can swiftly transport the craftsman back to his ancient ancestors. In historical terms, humans were relatively quick to discover the usefulness and versatility of flint. It offered itself up readily, rising to the surface of the land. But perhaps part of the enduring fascination we have for flint is that it does not easily give up its secrets. Building with Flint is not only a comprehensive exploration of the history of flint and its traditional uses, properties and applications, but is also an invaluable practical guide for practitioners currently working in the professions of construction, architecture and design. As well as providing detailed insight and advice about good practice in flint work, it also inspires the reader to employ flint in innovative and versatile ways. In addition, this book is for anyone who is simply curious to unearth more about this versatile material and all its quirks and nuances.

"The numerous colour plates and black and white photographs convey the fascinating multiplicity of styles to be found, some of them reminiscent of the work of contemporary artists like Richard Long, and the virtuoso skills of the craftsmen who created them. There is a deeper consciousness and wider appreciation of vernacular architecture today in Britain than there has ever been, and the book could well inspire people to explore new possibilities in the use of flint architecture. Apart from its general appeal, it is a book that will strike a particular chord among architects, designers, craftsmen, local historians, artists and regional councils responsible for planning and conservation."--BOOK JACKET.

Flint, Michigan, is widely seen as Detroit s Detroit: the perfect embodiment of a ruined industrial economy and a shattered American dream. In this deeply researched book, Andrew Highsmith gives us the first full-scale history of Flint, showing that the Vehicle City has always seen demolition as a tool of progress. During the 1930s, officials hoped to renew the city by remaking its public schools into racially segregated community centers. After the war, federal officials and developers sought to strengthen the region by building subdivisions in Flint s segregated suburbs, while GM executives and municipal officials demolished urban factories and rebuilt them outside the city. City leaders later launched a plan to replace black neighborhoods with a freeway and new factories. Each of these campaigns, Highsmith argues, yielded an ever more impoverished city and a more racially divided metropolis. By intertwining histories of racial segregation, mass suburbanization, and industrial decline, Highsmith gives us a deeply unsettling look at urban-industrial America."

Many of the postcards that appear in this book were mailed more than 60 or 70 years ago, often bearing simple messages between friends and family members. Now the images are seen again, sharing some of the interesting history of Flint, Michigan. There are postcards from the time when the city had two passenger train stations a few blocks apart, and images of the first steel arches over Saginaw Street. There are images of busy streetcars and the factories that made the town a leading producer of carriages and wagons, earning it the nickname "Vehicle City." Other postcards show how Flint became a leader in the "horseless carriage" industry, and then the birthplace of General Motors. There are images of many of the city's churches, schools, stores, theaters, and amusement parks, and even major events like fires and floods.

"Beneath Flint's auto history lies a buried past. Local Civil War hero Franklin Thompson was actually Sarah Edmonds in disguise. Thread Lake's Lakeside Amusement Park offered seaplane rides and a giant roller coaster partly built over the water before closing in 1931. Smith-Bridgman's, the largest department store in town, reigned supreme for more than a century at the same location. And the city's most prolific inventor, Lloyd Copeman, created the electric stove, flexible ice cube tray and automatic toaster. Gary Flinn showcases the obscure and surprising elements of the Vehicle City's past, including how the 2014 water crisis was a half century in the making."-- Page [4] of cover.

The city of Flint waxed and waned with the automotive industry of the twentieth century. Where they have not vanished completely, crumbling signs of past opulence stand as painful reminders of more recent struggles. Hardly a trace remains of the Buick City factory complex that sprawled across the city's north side. The placid waters of Flint Park Lake once echoed with the sounds of an amusement park--games, dancing, circus acts and even a roller coaster. Flint Community Schools pioneered a model for how schools can function outside regular hours, but too many now are closed and deteriorating. Local author Gary Flinn uncovers the abandoned places and lost traditions from the Vehicle City's past.

A young college grad buys a house in Detroit for $500 and attempts to restore it—and his new neighborhood—to its original glory in this “deeply felt, sharply observed personal quest to create meaning and community out of the fallen…A standout” (Kirkus Reviews, starred review). Drew Philp, an idealistic college student from a working-class Michigan family, decides to live where he can make a difference. He sets his sights on Detroit, the failed metropolis of abandoned buildings, widespread poverty, and rampant crime. Arriving with no job, no friends, and no money, Philp buys a ramshackle house for five hundred dollars in the east side neighborhood known as Poletown. The roomy Queen Anne he now owns is little more than a clapboard shell on a crumbling brick foundation, missing windows, heat, water, electricity, and a functional roof. A $500 House in Detroit is Philp’s raw and earnest account of rebuilding everything but the frame of his house, nail by nail and room by room. “Philp is a great storyteller…[and his] engrossing” (Booklist) tale is also of a young man finding his footing in the city, the country, and his own generation. We witness his concept of Detroit shift, expand, and evolve as his plan to save the city gives way to a life forged from political meaning, personal connection, and collective purpose. As he assimilates into the community of Detroiters around him, Philp guides readers through the city’s vibrant history and engages in urgent conversations about gentrification, racial tensions, and class warfare. Part social history, part brash generational statement, part comeback story, A $500 House in Detroit “shines [in its depiction of] the ‘radical neighborliness’ of ordinary people in desperate circumstances” (Publishers Weekly). This is an unforgettable, intimate account of the tentative revival of an American city and a glimpse at a new way forward for generations to come.

When the people of Flint, Michigan, turned on their faucets in April 2014, the water pouring out was poisoned with lead and other toxins. Through a series of disastrous decisions, the state government had switched the city’s water supply to a source that corroded Flint’s aging lead pipes. Complaints about the foul-smelling water were dismissed: the residents of Flint, mostly poor and African American, were not seen as credible, even in matters of their own lives. It took eighteen months of activism by city residents and a band of dogged outsiders to force the state to admit that the water was poisonous. By that time, twelve people had died and Flint’s children had suffered irreparable harm. The long battle for accountability and a humane response to this man-made disaster has only just begun. In the first full account of this American tragedy, Anna Clark's The Poisoned City recounts the gripping story of Flint’s poisoned water through the people who caused it, suffered from it, and exposed it. It is a chronicle of one town, but could also be about any American city, all made precarious by the neglect of infrastructure and the erosion of democratic decision making. Places like Flint are set up to fail—and for the people who live and work in them, the consequences can be fatal.