Welcome to Forgotonia

On a recent drive from Macomb to Peoria, I noticed signs in several Fulton County yards and fields that puzzled me: a mix of letters and numbers that didn’t appear to be advertising any kind of herbicide plot or local high school football team. It took me several moments and miles before it finally dawned on me what the combination was spelling out: “NIX336.”

At first, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. In the land once dubbed “The Republic of Forgottonia” because of lack of state funds for downstate development, could people in the area really be campaigning against better roads? I have to admit my first instinct was to imagine the sign-bearers to be butt-of-”Deliverance”-joke, “out of my cold, dead hands”-types.

A snippet of two-lane highway in Fulton County

So, why on earth would the people around here want to remain isolated? You can find the answers on the official web site for the anti-Interstate movement here. (Teaser: “The Peoria to Macomb Expressway: Billion Dollar Boondoggle”.)

The concerns raised by this group range from “urban sprawl” [um, don'tcha have to be "urban" in the first place for the "sprawl" part to happen? Just saying...] to “special interests making a grab for public assets.” But I think the coalition does have a point here:

“Illinois 336 (Peoria to Macomb) would convert two to three thousand acres of prime Illinois farmlands and forests into highway … Much of this destruction would impair the nationally admired scenic beauty surrounding the Spoon River. Erosion and siltation of streams and rivers would increase. More than a hundred homes would be destroyed…”

Furthermore, a kind of confusing story about road signage appeared this week on PJ.Star.com. Rather than providing an update on the progress, (or non-), of the Macomb-to-Peoria stretch of the 336 interchange, the story—because of the comments below it—served as more proof of dissenting voices.

I am a bit surprised at myself to say I guess I see where these people are coming from. One the one hand, I took the name for my blog from the historical lack of funding for “downstate”; I’m a progressive person who sees geographic isolation as a major drawback. But at the same time, I grew up on a farm, and part of what keeps me in this area is a deep appreciation for the authenticity, the lack of strip-mall-ization and homogenization, of the rural landscape.

What do you think? Are these Coalition-ers crazy? Should we stay isolated for the sake of farmland, environmental factors, and preservation? And/or do you buy the idea that the 4-lane wouldn’t really do all that much good for economic development anyway? Please post your thoughts below.

(cue the Blue Oyster Cult music…)

Yes, this snowman is real, and yes, there is also another snowman with an empty case of beer for a hat (on a nearby street in Macomb).

(Saw this via a friend’s facebook comment and had to share for my out-of-town friends.)

Barbara Ehrenreich, author of  Nickel & Dimed: On Not Getting By in America, (which I read right after it was published, and liked–and I regret not going to hear her when she was right here in town), has published  an essay in The Financial Times that describes her visit to Forgotonia.

A quick sampling:

…. I’m staying at the Hampton Inn, a minimalist motel chain located opposite a Farm King, an agricultural supply store. I can’t help asking whether this is where the university puts up a genuine celebrity speaker, such as Bill Cosby. “Oh no,” I am told, “he flew in in his private plane and out the same night.”

As Heather, who made me aware of this essay, put it: it’s funny and sad at the same time.

(Make sure to catch the references to the late Spaz,  and to …well, WIU. And, for those of us all-too-familiar with QC commuting, to driving along Hwy 34.)

At least her take on the experience wasn’t quite as bad as Kurt Vonnegut’s. (She at least didn’t use the phrase  “Jerkwater U.”)

I’ve been trying for quite some time now to tell you the strange story about what happened to the old Carthage College campus.

I’ve tried to tell you–in words–why the story is kind of a big deal, and just how drastic things had become at the former college in my tiny hometown (Carthage, IL). But lo and behold, the cliche comes true: a picture tells a thousand words. Or in this case, a set of photos.

The shots below were taken inside the old Carthage College auditorium, which is finally being restored after having been left for dead in the 1990′s, a fact which I have blogged about rather extensively.)

I recently discovered (via Flickr) this set taken inside the abandoned auditorium building (quite awhile before the restoration was being planned). They tell, on their own, the destruction that was allowed to happen at this once-prosperous place: (please check out this slideshow below)

Like I said, the pix say it all. But here’s a super-quick re-cap:

1. Carthage College (now located in Kenosha, WI), was originally located in my hometown (Carthage IL), but picked up and left town because the existing location was so out-of-the-way (so deep in the Forgotonia region) that Chicago students couldn’t get there easily.
2. Carthage College had been a fairly prestigious little school. Interestingly, (as this week’s news story says), the first-ever chapter of Circle K was started there. Most people who know of the liberal arts school now located near Chicago have no idea where its name comes from.
3. After the campus closed, Robert Morris moved in and then left, and then a strange, strange saga began (including the “Carthage International College” chapter), eventually ending in the campus being left to rot and crumble for many years. There’s even a photo in this set of a luggage tag left behind by the seemingly on-the-lam Korean “owner,” who virtually disappeared after buying—and abandoning—the campus property.

The photos were taken by Craig Finlay, one of my  fellow WIU English-program graduate students.

Craig has a hobby of, um… trespassing in abandoning buildings to shoot the decadent art that lies inside. If you haven’t already watched the slideshow above, check out the set here (to read the cutlines and get some details).

I am so that happy that leaders in my hometown are investing the time, money, and concern into fixing the place up. Last week’s Hancock County Journal-Pilot (my hometown paper) featured an update on the progress of restoring the old auditorium building.

Do you remember the old Carthage College, or Robert Morris, or Carthage International College, or made-up-university-that-solicited-funds-via-the-Internet? Tell me in the comments below!

A new photo essay about small-town America,

“Empty places. Empty spaces”

by my good friend and amazing photojournalist Kent Kreigshauser,
(a former colleague from my days as a reporter for the Galesburg Register-Mail, where Kent continues to rock.)

This photo at right shows the former Wal-Mart, which sits gapingly empty right on the main drag (Henderson Street). The new Super Center is just a mile or so away, on the edge of town. This building has been empty for several years now.)

For my non-local readers:  Galesburg was the birthplace of poet Carl Sandburg. If you own a Maytag appliance, it was more than likely built in Galesburg, before the town lost the major Maytag plant to Mexico several years back.

This photo essay gives a bleak but honest picture of what’s going on in a lot of Forgotonia (and the country in general).

Check out Kent’s photo essay here.

As you might remember, I blogged awhile back about endangered sites in the area, which include the “Bernie Dot” bridge in Fulton County.

Unfortunately, things are not looking good for this structure on the famed Spoon River, which you might have heard of because of its eponymous Anthology by Edgar Lee Masters.

At least some citizens are expressing concern about its future. (But, apparently, not so much about the side of beef a-floatin‘ on by!)

Linked to story from the PJ Star, and copied below:

Spoon River bridge gets a reprieve Fulton County Board approves structural analysis of historic span

LEWISTOWN — Instead of having one of its trusses removed, the historic Bernadotte Bridge received a stay of execution Tuesday night from the Fulton County Board.

But engineers warn the bridge is so far gone because of flooding and debris piling against it, a collapse into the Spoon River is very likely.
“The bridge is going to fall into the river,” Fulton County Engineer Bill Kuhn told board members. “It’s just a matter of when. We’re pretty much at the end.”

Several county residents spoke in favor of restoring the bridge and against the county’s agenda item to remove a “pony truss” to allow debris and water to flow past. Dawn Stambaugh, who serves as chairwoman of a committee formed to save the bridge, said removing the truss not only would make the bridge useless but would make it unstable and the rest would soon fall.

“The bridge would be less likely to stand if the pony truss is removed,” she said of the structure that is used for foot traffic and bicycles.

The board heard from six residents who urged members to pay for a study that would examine the structure before making a decision.

“That bridge is important to me,” said Bernadotte resident Tyrel Belless, who lives next to the bridge. “I don’t want to see it go.”
Bernadotte is about 23 miles southwest of Canton.

The board voted to pay $7,000 for a structural analysis of the bridge before deciding what to do next.

Kuhn said the bridge is supported by stacks of unreinforced blocks, which are getting knocked away each time the river floods.

Debris, including tree branches, logs and currently a dead cow, floats down the river and gets pushed against the already weakened structure.

“I was afraid we were going to lose it last winter,” Kuhn said. “A big ice jam came through and almost took it out.”

Casting the only vote against the survey was board member Don Zessin. Member Mat Fletcher abstained.

The board will take up the issue again once the study is complete.

In the meantime, Stambaugh said she is happy for now that the board decided to wait. “They’ll have some knowledge about what they’re looking at,” she said.

I have been fretting lately about the fact that I no longer have a doctor. She left town. And according to recent reportage, the recruiters can’t get any of the candidates for this doctor’s replacement to commit to Macomb.

As soon as I heard a rumor that my doctor was leaving, I started calling around town, trying to be like one of those people who is Proactive and Plans Ahead. But every place I called told me they weren’t taking any new patients.

I can’t extend my search too far or wide because I’m on an HMO—and because finding out if I can see a doctor in a nearby town would require me to locate my insurance-benefits manifesto-ish materials and actually try to read them and makes sense of them, which, I mean, hello. I’m not, like, a rocket surgeon.

But anyway, at least now I know I’m not alone.

According to this story from the Peoria Journal-Star, I am among as many as 5,000 people in Macomb now without a doctor. I had no idea one doctor could have such a huge caseload. Guess that opened my eyes.

Speaking of eyes, let’s just hope I can safely get through the year without, say, ending up with a wood sliver in one of them like that time I got injured out of the blue just walking down the street in Galesburg!

(Yeah, that’s the kind of klutz I am. I attract wood shavings to my eyeballs just by being outdoors, several blocks away from a construction site.)

… one of the only “tourist attractions” listed in this area is a tree.

A few other innerstin’ items from the local news:

2) Lustron house in jeopardy?
(It’s a Lustron, yes, but….is it lustrous?)

3) The Forgotonia region won’t need to look for a new nickname anytime soon. (See: “Macomb-to-Peoria path still has roadblocks.”)

Well, I’m no Kramer.

But, I can tell you how to get to their web site.

And trust me, you need me to tell you, because you won’t find it very easily on your own.

That’s partly because the name “Rialto” is not even part of their web address for the new Rialto Cinemas in Macomb..

Instead, the url looks like it has your aunt and uncle’s names in it:

www.earlann.net

(Um, okay.)

Then when you get to this site, you have to click on the “Rialto Cinemas” link.

I just went there and figured it all out.

I haven’t, however, tried calling the phone number yet.

(But my guess is, you won’t find anything on their voicemail about a “persnickity ATM”!)

hey, one can only hope!)

from today’s Macomb Journal:

Rialto opens

Macomb, Ill. - The screens were lit at Macomb’s new six-screen Rialto Cinemas Thursday night as the business opened to customers for the first time.

A group of about 300 local residents were invited [minus your humble blogger, sniff] to be the first to watch a movie at the new East Jackson Street theater.

Most of those in attendance were local business owners and governmental officials.

After a reception and official ribbong cutting, three of the theaters were opened to the invitation-only crowd for a free movie.

…. Several residents who attended the January announcement, said Thursday they were stunned to see the transformation.

Others said the business was something Macomb has needed for some time. [Nah, who needs more than two screens in a town w/ 10,000 young people, their visiting families, and oh also more than 2,000 employees/faculty?]

Jere Greuel, a representative of Prairie Hills RC & D, which helped with the project’s financing, said he hopes the theater will attract other new businesses, such as new restaurants. [Yes yes yes! This is gooooood positive thinking! Let's keep this up! ]

… As guests began arriving late Thursday former Cinema 1 & 2 manager Larry Jarvis was back in the movie business as manager of the new theater.

As he did at his former job, Jarvis mingled with customers, discussing the merits of each movie showing in the theater.

“(Larry) is the best movie man in the Midwest and now he’s got a great place,” said Bruce Biagini.

[Okay, so growth can and does eventually happen in Macomb.

Now: COFFEE PAST DUSK—let's start a campaign!]