Build more meaning: A promise to rebuild Detroit

For many who grow up in Detroit, the city takes on more meaning than simply being a hometown. It becomes a part of who you are. 

Manny Martinez, who was born in the Dominican Republic and moved to Detroit when he was 9, is no different. 

“Detroit is my home. Detroit is my landmark,” he said. “This is where I feel comfortable.” 

It wasn’t always that way. He arrived in Detroit during a difficult chapter in its history.   

“When I came to Detroit, I don’t say this as a negative, it’s just a reality, it wasn’t great. The city was in rough shape,” he said. “It was a decay of greatness. You have a lot of buildings that are a wreck. They’re demolished and run down.” 

But like every Detroiter, he knew the city offered so much more because for him, it always had. After graduating from University of Michigan with a degree in architecture and seven job offers on the table, Manny was met with a decision. Not knowing what to do, he called up his best friend. 

“We got on a phone call and the first thing I said was ‘my goal is to rebuild this city,’” he said. “We made a pact that we would both stay and not think of anything else until Detroit was returned to glory.” 

That promise has shaped Manny’s career ever since. He took the offer from The Christman Company, as it gave him his best shot to stay in Detroit and shape the city’s future. 

Now a superintendent in Christman’s Southeast Michigan region with 15 years of experience, Manny has led some of the most iconic projects in the city; ones that have served as true symbols of Detroit’s return to glory, just as he promised. 

Michigan Central Station

One of the biggest was Michigan Central Station. Originally opened in 1913 as Detroit’s main passenger depot, the building closed in 1988 and spent the next 30 years deteriorating. That was until its restoration began in 2018. 

Manny, who had grown up to see the station as a symbol of the city’s fall, jumped at the opportunity to rewrite the building’s story. 

“When I got to that project, it was surreal,” he said, admitting some of the paintball markings throughout the building were his doing as a teenager. “I saw some of the stain marks that I caused. It touches home to be able to see what we did and now taking the responsibility as an adult to put it back together and see it with a different perspective.” 

That shift from Detroit kid to caretaker has repeated itself across Manny’s work.  

Ralph C. Wilson Park

At Ralph C. Wilson Park, just around the corner from where he lives, he sees the future through the eyes of his nieces, nephews and friends’ children. 

“How do I give them a park they can go to and not think twice about going by themselves?” he said.

The park blends natural beauty with spaces designed for play, relaxation, and year-round community gatherings. Thoughtful landscaping, open green areas, outdoor sports facilities and inviting waterfront features create a place where people of all ages can connect. 

“It all starts with the environment you set up. If you provide something beautiful, people will care about it,” he said.  The same sense of responsibility guides his work on Belle Isle, where he always took his relatives who visited from the Dominican Republic. Today, he’s working on three projects there, including upgrades to the historic 1904 aquarium, restoration of the fountain and improvements to the zoo grounds to make way for new trails. 

‘More than a job’

“These opportunities wouldn’t have come without Christman,” he said. “I truly feel blessed to have been given the chance and the trust from my leaders to be part of these amazing projects.” 

For Manny, these aren’t just jobs. They’re personal investments in a city that shaped him. 

“I try to give the client the best I can,” he said. “Not only because we want them as a returning client, but because I know the end user and what it could mean to them.” 

That perspective hasn’t gone unnoticed. In the community, Manny is often introduced not by his title, but by his impact. 

“I always say I’m just doing my job, but people introduce me as Manny who worked on the train station, or Manny who built the park,” he said with a modest smile. “They see me as this hero in my community.” 

There’s pride in that, but also humility. Manny is quick to redirect the spotlight back to the city itself. 

“There’s a true pride in being a Detroiter,” he said. “The downside was always that nobody gave Detroit a shot. Now people are believing.” 

For Manny, belief isn’t new. It’s something he’s carried since childhood, since that first phone call with a best friend, since the promise he made to stay. Every project is another way of keeping that promise.