When the city of Toledo lost its mayor, I lost a friend.
My friendship with D. Michael Collins started 15 years ago, when I was the executive producer at 1370 WSPD and Collins was president of the Toledo Police Patrolman’s Association.
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It was the golden era of news-talk radio in Toledo, as we had Carty Finkbeiner as our mayor. There was one proven method for generating great content: Agitate Carty enough that he felt compelled to call in. If I had done my job right, Carty would ring the studio hotline at 8:45 a.m. and request to speak to morning show host Mark Standriff. The on-air conversations that would follow are the stuff of legends.
Collins was one of the best at making Carty pick up the phone. It was a simple formula: Book Mike, expect Carty.
During our earlier conversations, Collins would act as a personal teacher. I would ask him to explain his various points and why they mattered and by the end I would understand. He was straightforward, articulate and did his research. Our phone conversations continued through the rest of his life — something I will forever miss.
I choose not to write about local politics because it is too divisive and unproductive. Our city has been its own worst enemy for decades. The negativity generated from infighting has taken a toll. We often worry about things bigger than Northwest Ohio and it causes arguments that muddy up our progress and stop our growth.
But mud sells newspapers and generates ratings. I made a living by giving mud a radio home.
In 2013, our conversations were centered around one thing: I wanted Collins to run for mayor. I knew then-mayor Mike Bell was vulnerable because of his support of Senate Bill 5.
I even predicted a split in the Democratic party that could deny him an opportunity to be on the November ballot.
I expressed a fear that resonated within him. Why would I choose to raise my four children in Northwest Ohio where there are few jobs in any flourishing industries? Where my reward later in life will be getting to spend my weekends in a car or on a plane, traveling to see my grandchildren? Collins’ girls and most of his grandchildren live in different cities. I knew he had the skill set and desire to precipitate change.
Collins was the best hope for this city’s future. He often got emotional, as he did any time he spoke about Toledo’s fallen firefighters Stephen Machcinski and James Dickman, but he also had this amazing ability to argue analytically in strategic situations. Imagine that, a son of an Irishman could win debates with his words while never expressing his internal feelings.
There were other key factors that had me convinced he was the right man — his dedication to education and his personal evolution. At 70 years old, he was not against change and he was not afraid of trying new things. He even signed up for Twitter.
Collins didn’t claim a political party because he wasn’t interested in politics. His reason for running for political office was to better serve the people of Toledo. He had no ambition for a larger office. But back when he policed the streets on foot, he imagined what he would do differently if he were in charge.
Mike’s lifelong dream was realized in November 2013, when his fellow citizens elected him as their mayor. They rewarded his lifetime commitment to public service with Toledo’s highest honor and their future.
Collins was officially labeled an independent, a man without a party. He did what he felt was best for the city. From snow emergencies to the water crisis, he put our safety first. He made decisions based on the thought of children drinking from the kitchen sink or being a passenger in a car.
Mike was very deliberate with his words; he never spoke one he didn’t mean. He wasn’t a used car salesman trying to sell us an agenda. He didn’t enter the city in meaningless competitions, nor did he travel the world looking for magical jobs. He stayed home, did his research and went to work.
In 13 months, he had ProMedica moving their headquarters Downtown, was looking for land to expand Jeep to keep the Wrangler line and had listed the Erie Street Market for sale. He even made a change with our welcome signs, which now proudly state “You Will Do Better in Toledo.” He chose not to muddy up the message with his own name, as past mayors have done.
By the end, he had annoyed The Blade, most of City Council and the Lucas County Commissioners — a sign he was doing something right. You can’t make everyone happy all the time.
The last time I saw Collins was at the “You Will Do Better in Toledo” anniversary party in December. The city had just begun placing the new signs around town, and the room was packed with unfamiliar but excited young faces. The mayor’s smile never left his face, nor was it forced. He could not remember a time when our city’s morale was so high that young people were wearing clothing that reflected their love of Toledo.
It was quite unbelievable after the year he’d had.
Collins did have a political party after all. He was a Toledoan: stubborn and loyal as a mule, strong and smart as an elephant but with a heart the size of a blue whale.
The “You Will Do Better” celebration did not take place at an upscale venue like The Toledo Club, but rather at Wesley’s, in UpTown. The bar was packed with people excited about the Glass City, optimistic and hopeful about its future. It was filled with dreamers and doers, mostly younger than me. I think Mayor Collins saw the future of his political party that night. I know I did.
Collins was a South Side Irish cop who loved his family, his co-workers, the occasional drink, his Kelly green sweater and his fellow residents. He believed in the fabric of our character and in our future. His greatest gift to this city, the thing for which he should be remembered most, is he has us believing too.
We Will Do Better in Toledo.
#RIPDMC
Jeremy Baumhower can be reached at jeremytheproducer@icloud.com or on Twitter at @jeremytheproduc.
