Beloved elephant Tammy returns home
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Kaelin Stockwell touches up Tammy's new paint job in Macomb. Photo: Joe Guillen/Axios
Tammy the elephant is ready to return home after her latest adventure.
Why it matters: She's been a Metro Detroit roadside legend since the 1970s, standing sentry outside Tamaroff Honda with trunk raised, greeting countless passing cars at the intersection of Telegraph and 12 Mile roads near I-696.
What they're saying: The dealership's president, Eric Frehsée, said his wife used the elephant as a landmark before they even started dating.
- "People that haven't even been our customers have called just to see where she is," he told Axios.
State of play: After decades outdoors, Tammy needed a glow-up.
- A local restoration team with a Hollywood background spent the past several weeks fixing her up.
- They stripped off several layers of paint, reinforced the mascot's fiberglass base and applied a fresh coat of red, white and blue amusement park-grade paint.
The latest: The dealership is planning to welcome home the 11-foot-tall elephant Wednesday, ending the mystery for those who've noticed her disappearance.
Flashback: Tammy's comeback is the latest chapter in her colorful history.
- The dealership's founder, Marvin Tamaroff, had an affinity for elephants and bought Tammy in 1971 after seeing her at a Buick trade show in Flint. She was placed on the dealership's lawn for good luck and painted red, white and blue in 1976 for the bicentennial.
- She was kidnapped in the 1990s and dragged to a mall across the street.
- In 2004, vandals ripped off her tusks, which were eventually recovered and reinstalled.
The intrigue: The mascot was restored in a Macomb workshop by Erick Donaldson and his small team of former movie artists who worked in the industry when the state offered film incentives that were eventually discontinued in 2015.
- Donaldson pivoted to creating public entertainment art pieces, such as statues at dinosaur parks and Jellystone-themed camp sites.
"It's satisfying the thirst of creating art and having something that the public can enjoy," Donaldson says. "The cameras just aren't rolling."
The bottom line: A quirky Metro Detroit memory marker is back home for the foreseeable future.