This year, the Stateside team brought you a brand new podcast, On Hand, where they explore all the things that makes Michigan special. Here are the episodes from the year!
Why do we call ourselves Michiganders?
There's a longstanding debate in our state: are we "Michiganians" or "Michiganders"?
It's not something you frequently hear people from other states debate.
There's nobody in California who questions; "are we Californians?" They're Californians. Texans are Texans. New Yorkers are New Yorkers. Hoosiers, even! Have you ever even heard someone call themselves an "Indianaian"?
No.
In Michigan, we're less sure. But the truth is that an overwhelming percentage of us call ourselves, like a flock of opinionated, honking geese, Michiganders.
But how did it come to be this way? Here's a brief breakdown of the timeline that took us from a territory of "Michiganians" to the land of Michigander.
It's not something you frequently hear people from other states debate.
There's nobody in California who questions; "are we Californians?" They're Californians. Texans are Texans. New Yorkers are New Yorkers. Hoosiers, even! Have you ever even heard someone call themselves an "Indianaian"?
No.
In Michigan, we're less sure. But the truth is that an overwhelming percentage of us call ourselves, like a flock of opinionated, honking geese, Michiganders.
But how did it come to be this way? Here's a brief breakdown of the timeline that took us from a territory of "Michiganians" to the land of Michigander.
Does a Sleeping Bear rescue really cost $3000?
Along the Pierce Stocking Scenic Drive in Empire, Michigan, there’s a stop where you can park and walk out to a bluff called Overlook #9. This is a 450-foot, 45-degree angle sandhill along the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore.
I know that doesn’t seem particularly intimidating on paper, and I am not particularly afraid of heights. But this hill freaks me out.
There’s a warning sign at the top of the hill that doesn’t help. A previous version of the sign warned, “Avoid getting stuck at the bottom! Lake levels are high — the only way out is up. Rescues cost $3,000. Keep yourself and our rescuers out of danger.”
$3,000 is what the Glen Lake Fire Department charges for an elaborate rescue that involves a pulley system. Those are executed for serious medical emergencies, like if someone breaks a leg at the bottom of the hill.
I know that doesn’t seem particularly intimidating on paper, and I am not particularly afraid of heights. But this hill freaks me out.
There’s a warning sign at the top of the hill that doesn’t help. A previous version of the sign warned, “Avoid getting stuck at the bottom! Lake levels are high — the only way out is up. Rescues cost $3,000. Keep yourself and our rescuers out of danger.”
$3,000 is what the Glen Lake Fire Department charges for an elaborate rescue that involves a pulley system. Those are executed for serious medical emergencies, like if someone breaks a leg at the bottom of the hill.
History is full of fierce debates that have shaped our world. Nature vs. nurture, Lincoln vs. Douglas, and Kendrick vs. Drake.
But there might be no greater debate—no dividing line deeper—than the name that we use for a sweet, fizzy, carbonated beverage. Whether you call it pop, soda, or coke depends largely on where you live. For a long time, the Midwest has been loyal to pop.
But is that still the case?
But there might be no greater debate—no dividing line deeper—than the name that we use for a sweet, fizzy, carbonated beverage. Whether you call it pop, soda, or coke depends largely on where you live. For a long time, the Midwest has been loyal to pop.
But is that still the case?
Why do we do the Michigan left?
Here's the thing about driving in Michigan. A lot of it feels wrong.
The roads are cracked and cratered. People drive like they're auditioning for a Fast and Furious sequel.
And if you leave more than a few inches between you and the car in front of you, someone is going to cut in because apparently everyone's in a hurry.
But there's also this other thing about Michigan roads. Something that the first time you see it, it makes you stop and wonder.
It's when you're at a major intersection and you want to turn left, but instead of turning directly, you drive straight through. Make a U-turn at the median and then turn right to head in the direction you initially wanted to go to. But why do we do the "Michigan Left" - also referred unofficially by some Michiganders as the Michigan Turn?
The roads are cracked and cratered. People drive like they're auditioning for a Fast and Furious sequel.
And if you leave more than a few inches between you and the car in front of you, someone is going to cut in because apparently everyone's in a hurry.
But there's also this other thing about Michigan roads. Something that the first time you see it, it makes you stop and wonder.
It's when you're at a major intersection and you want to turn left, but instead of turning directly, you drive straight through. Make a U-turn at the median and then turn right to head in the direction you initially wanted to go to. But why do we do the "Michigan Left" - also referred unofficially by some Michiganders as the Michigan Turn?
Glowing eyes, long claws, fast as a car, and as tall as nine feet. … Those are some of the ways the Dogman of Michigan has been described.
Sightings of this terrifying creature have been reported since 1887, when some lumberjacks in Wexford County saw something they could hardly believe: a creature they described as having the body of a man and the head of a dog with piercing eyes that were either blue or yellow and a howl like a terrifying scream. Other early reported sightings often came from individuals or small groups that found themselves alone in the woods.
"They talk about this beast coming out of the woods,” Rachel Clark, education specialist for the Archives of Michigan, said “It is very agile. It jumps in front of their car or them. It scratches at their houses or their tents. People have been scared to death by the sightings of the Dogman.”
Since then, sightings and encounters have only grown across Michigan, at least according to social media groups dedicated to the Dogman.
Sightings of this terrifying creature have been reported since 1887, when some lumberjacks in Wexford County saw something they could hardly believe: a creature they described as having the body of a man and the head of a dog with piercing eyes that were either blue or yellow and a howl like a terrifying scream. Other early reported sightings often came from individuals or small groups that found themselves alone in the woods.
"They talk about this beast coming out of the woods,” Rachel Clark, education specialist for the Archives of Michigan, said “It is very agile. It jumps in front of their car or them. It scratches at their houses or their tents. People have been scared to death by the sightings of the Dogman.”
Since then, sightings and encounters have only grown across Michigan, at least according to social media groups dedicated to the Dogman.
Why are Michigan and Ohio State football rivals?
For many of us, Michigan vs Ohio State is not one of college football’s bitterest rivalries.
It’s THE rivalry.
I should know. I was born in Columbus, and grew up marinating in the single-minded, grid-iron obsession that is Ohio State fandom. Living on the West Coast in the early Aughts, I met and married a Wolverine. Through 15 years of dating, marriage, and child-raising, I think he wasn’t fully convinced my Buckeye DNA hadn’t hexed the outcome of The Game during our acquaintance until we both attended in person in 2021. [The drama of that day was enough to make me turn in my Ohio passport and start rooting Blue.]
So when a listener asked us about why it’s Michigan and Ohio State – not Michigan and Indiana, or Michigan and Illinois – the On Hand team unanimously nominated me to get the story.
It’s THE rivalry.
I should know. I was born in Columbus, and grew up marinating in the single-minded, grid-iron obsession that is Ohio State fandom. Living on the West Coast in the early Aughts, I met and married a Wolverine. Through 15 years of dating, marriage, and child-raising, I think he wasn’t fully convinced my Buckeye DNA hadn’t hexed the outcome of The Game during our acquaintance until we both attended in person in 2021. [The drama of that day was enough to make me turn in my Ohio passport and start rooting Blue.]
So when a listener asked us about why it’s Michigan and Ohio State – not Michigan and Indiana, or Michigan and Illinois – the On Hand team unanimously nominated me to get the story.
Why is "Kalamazoo" in so many songs?
If you search "Kalamazoo" on Spotify, dozens of songs will pop up. Some of them are covers of Glenn Miller's 1940s smash hit "(I've Got a Gal in) Kalamazoo". But many of them are original tunes featuring a mention of the southwest Michigan city. And virtually none of those artists are from Michigan.
So how did we get here?
Some of it is probably just because the name is fun to say.
So how did we get here?
Some of it is probably just because the name is fun to say.
