William West's Inn for All

A nearly forgotten Petoskey hotel, ruined by fire, broke all the race rules of 1950s northern Michigan

By Ross Boissoneau | July 10, 2021

A long time ago, in a Petoskey seemingly far, far away, The Rainbow Inn stood as a beacon of hope for people of color. Or was it simply a hotel ahead of its time? The answer is both, and it’s part of a vital chapter of local history few recall. 

To understand the significance of this short-lived Black oasis Up North, we first need to go back to the early and mid-20th century when all Americans’ freedoms were — theoretically anyway — protected by law. That assuredly wasn’t the case for African Americans; their rights had not yet been codified into the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and separate but “equal” was the law. 

SEPARATE BUT SIMILAR
There were, however, some refuges from bigotry in northern Michigan. The most well-known, of course, was Idlewild, which opened in 1912 near Baldwin in Lake County. Dubbed “the Black Eden of Michigan,” it served as a northern haven for African Americans for decades, drawing tens of thousands of landowners and vacationers from across the country to summer in its quiet woods just east of Lake Michigan.

Marketed to African Americans interested in enjoying the seasonal resort lifestyle off-limits to them but accessible to many well-to-do whites, Idlewild offered respite and recreation like most any northern Michigan resort town of the times: hunting, fishing, swimming, boating, and lots of leisure time with people and families like one’s own.

The summer population of Idlewild boomed between the 1920s and early ’60s. The beauty of its natural surroundings — and the fact that it catered to a population few hotels of those decades refused — isn’t only what made Idlewild so special.  Much of the town’s legacy rests upon its top-notch nightlife scene, which saw small venues throughout the town hosting some of the best Black musicians of the mid-20th century, such Louis Armstrong, Della Reese, B.B. King, Jackie Wilson, and Sarah Vaughan.

The Rainbow Inn of Petoskey, though no less a pre-Civil Rights destination for Black Americans than the storied Idlewild, couldn’t claim Etta James or Duke Ellington as guests (or W.E.B. Dubois or Dizzy Gillespie as property owners, for that matter) as Idlewild could. Its lifespan was significantly shorter — operating for only 15 years — and its fame considerably lesser.

But when retired railway porter-chef William Thomas West and his wife, Gail, opened the Petoskey inn in 1950, the hope was much the same: to attract people of all colors. There was just one distinct difference: Idlewild was conceived by a group of white investors. William T. West was a Black man.

SELF-MADE MAN ON A MISSION
West, originally from Columbus, Ohio, knew Petoskey well. He had worked for the Pennsylvania Railroad back when its Northern Arrow train stopped there on its regular route north to Mackinaw City, bringing up vacationers from Chicago, Detroit, and St. Louis.

West’s job was typical for Black men during the ’40s and ’50s, who were suffering from job discrimination in America; unskilled labor positions were the only jobs that most black people could get then. “Other than whites, the whole of northern Michigan during that era was made up of black maids, cooks, and chauffeurs,” says local historian Richard Wiles.

While larger cities like Detroit mostly welcomed black travelers, Wiles says that much of northern Michigan followed the South’s prevalent Jim Crow laws, which mandated the segregation of Blacks and whites in public areas. Active discrimination was a part of life throughout northern Michigan during West’s time, though there were some exceptions, however slight: The Methodist summer retreat of Bay View, just south of Petoskey, was one of the few places that would book Black musicians to perform. But even there, the performers weren’t allowed to stay in any of the local hotels. “They had to stay with people who were willing to have them in their homes,” Wiles says.

Despite the rampant prejudice Up North — or perhaps because of it — West decided to open the Rainbow Inn. Originally built as a three-story home in the 1880s by and for the Bauerle family, which operated the nearby Bauerle Brothers Wooden Ware Company, the home passed through several owners after the family sold it in 1913. It looks to have served as a local boarding house between the 1920s and 1940s, but by time West spied it from onboard the train, which trundled right past the home on the route to Mackinaw City, it had fallen into disrepair. 

He and his wife Gail restored it and opened it in spring 1950. They named it the Rainbow Inn with the intention that it would welcome people of all colors — Native Americans included — and placed ads in the Chicago Defender, Michigan Chronicle, Cleveland Call & Post, and other newspapers that catered to a Black audience. It was soon a destination spot for African American vacationers, as well as a popular restaurant and nightspot for the Black servants of the area’s many prosperous white summer residents.

It was even listed in “The Negro Motorist Green-Book,” a travel guide popular with African-American travelers and motorists. It listed hotels, restaurants, service stations, barbershops and beauty salons, and other establishments that would serve African Americans. In an article in the Mackinac Journal, Wiles quoted civil rights activist Julian Bond’s assessment of the significance of the Green Book for Black travelers of the era: “It was a guidebook that told you not where the best places to eat were, but where there was any place at all to eat. You needed the Green Book to tell you where you could go without having doors slammed in your face.” 

The Rainbow Inn was one of those places. While it didn’t boast the vibrant nightlife and shows of the Island or the Flamingo Club at Idlewild, it did offer a respite from the Jim Crow prejudice that stained much of the nation, including northern Michigan. It became a popular destination for Black tourists and vacationers but also for the few non-white locals. West, an accomplished chef, prepared food for the Inn’s restaurant.

Thursdays, Wiles noted, were the days that all of the wealthy white resorters would allow their maids — many, women of color — to take the day off, and the chauffeurs would drive the maids into Petoskey to do their shopping.

“It must have been such a sight to see all of these ladies in their bright blue uniforms, and the chauffeurs standing by their cars waiting for them,” Wiles says. “Here’s the twist, though: It was fine for them to all shop downtown — the stores would certainly take their money. But if they wanted to stop somewhere for lunch, well, they weren’t allowed to.”

The Rainbow Inn and West’s in-house restaurant, of course, was the exception. The Rainbow Inn welcomed virtually anyone and everyone, including local Native Americans and white visitors. The lattermost were typically guests during spring and fall when accommodations for hunting and fishing seasons were in high demand.

A DREAM IN ASHES
Unfortunately, West’s success in serving an underserved part of the public came to an abrupt end in late winter 1965. On March 4 of that year, after starting a fire in the kitchen stove, West reportedly left the inn to run a quick errand. Upon returning, he opened the kitchen door to smoke and flames. The conflagration quickly spread throughout the three-story wooden structure. 

The town was hardly moved to tears. Newspaper coverage of the inn’s burning focused far more on a fireman who had had a heart attack while driving a firetruck to the incident than it did on the destruction of the inn itself; in one story covering the fire, the inn was simply called “the William T. West home.”

Perhaps not surprisingly, The Rainbow Inn never recovered, and it was never rebuilt.
 
“If you go there today, there’s nothing to see,” Wiles says. “I actually saw it in person right before they demolished what was left of the property. It had been condemned and had just sat there since that day in 1965. Only the foundation, a deteriorated carriage house, and one chair remained.”

However tragic the fire, it’s unlikely The Rainbow Inn would have survived the decade. Ironically, the opening of the country through the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was the beginning of the end for Idlewild; other beautiful places in northern Michigan and elsewhere became available to Black buyers and vacationers, and the competition became too great for the once unique enclave. By the early 1970s, Idlewild was no longer a destination; it was simply another small town in northern Michigan. 

As for The Rainbow Inn, a wooded lot stands at its former site. William West died not long after the fire, passing away in Petoskey in April 1970. His newspaper obituary noted that the 76-year-old died of natural causes. His wife, Gail, passed away in May of the following year. Though the details about their progressive Petoskey inn aren’t nearly as well known as the tales of Idlewild, The Rainbow Inn’s brief success — and its impact on the lives of more than just a select group of northern Michigan’s people — is something worth remembering.   

“The first time someone told me about The Rainbow Inn, I thought they were pulling my leg,” Wiles says. “Sometimes these stories are nothing but rumors, but this was a true story. I think it’s pretty cool that in the middle of this bastion of white wealth and prejudice, he built The Rainbow Inn,” Wiles said. “This is actually a positive story in the end, because of what Mr. West accomplished.”