Saying Goodbye to the Occidential

April 14, 1980,  Bud Jaeger, All The Best from Bud Jaeger's Muskegon County. (c) MLive Group 

It was the most spectacular show in the history of downtown Muskegon. And it was all over in barely eight seconds.





That's how long it took to blast the imposing eight story Occidental Hotel into a neat pile of rubble... only a few bricks scattering on adjacent Third Street and Western Avenue. Although it seemed longer, it all happened five years ago, April 13, 1975.

Few on hand that chilly Sunday morning will ever forget the thrilling spectacle as the mighty hotel, a landmark in downtown Muskegon for decades, came crashing to earth. They'll be talking about it for years. (and we are....)

  An article in the April Reader's Digest about Jack Loizeaux, the colorful chief of Controlled Demolition Inc., jogged our memory of that fateful day. A nationally known expert in his field, Jack and his crew dropped the huge building exactly where they planned. Many on the Chronicle staff got to know Jack and his son, Doug, during the three weeks they spent preparing for the blast. they were "good copy" for reporters and photographers, as was Mrs. Loizeaux (Freddie) when she arrived to be in on the final act.

  As we recall, they were most cooperative until the final week. Then they started to clam up regarding the day and time of the blast. No way did they want crowds around when the dynamite charges were set off.

  Loizeaux and Mike O'Rourke, the prime contractor, refused to name the time despite the urging of Chronicle editors, who point out readers would feel cheated and blame the newspaper if they were not informed when the building was coming down. Many felt sentimental about the old hotel.

  Their reply: "We are not in the entertainment business. Our concern is public safety"

  But then Mayor Donald Johnson let the "cat out of the bag" when he invited Gov. William G. Milliken to be present Sunday morning for the demolition. Even then the exact time was not known.

  That was enough, however, to bring 10,000 or more spectators to the downtown area, many arriving at dawn. They were in for a long wait on a very chilly day.

  Some clue that the blast would be delayed came when services at St. Paul's Church, across the street, went on as scheduled at 10 a.m. Costly church windows already had been boarded up to prevent damage.

    Chronicle reporters and photographers had been on the scene for hours before the big moment came. Overtime checks that week ran way over budget.



  It was 12:40 p.m. when Jack Loizeaux, kneeling in Hackley Park, pushed the plunger that set off the charges. At the time, his wife was leading the crowd in chanting the countdown.

  Most of us heard what sounded like firecrackers. Then the top part of the building started to crumble, walls caved in, and with a mighty roar the proud old hotel crumpled like a house of cards.

    We were among those engulfed in the huge cloud of dust that rolled across the downtown area, fanned by a westerly wind. In the excitement, we barely noticed the dust.

  Only the hotel's towering smokestack defied the dynamite. It was leaning but a bulldozer had to bring it down.

  It was a shame the old hotel had to be demolished. Although there are some who still resent the destruction, the Occidental had outlived it's usefulness. It would have cost millions to renovate and the investors wanted no part of it.

  That was a fateful moment in Muskegon's history when the Occidental faded from the scene. It was one we will never forget.


(Blogmasters Comments: I was just a young teenage boy living in Fremont, Michigan when I had heard about this implosion. It's amazing to think that the Occidental had to be brought down and less than 10 years after a brand new Hilton Hotel was constructed just down the street from this iconic hotel. Bud Jaeger was right, it's one we will never forget.)