The Monday Mashup: What Happens When a Southern Mill Town Bets Its Future on Robots and a River

 I published this article on Medium last year:

James Thomas Shell

5 min read·

Apr 21, 2025

“Downtown Hickory” photo by the City of Hickory — Blue Ridge Mountains in the background.

I grew up in a town where the river was a backdrop — not a battleground.

Here in the heart of Western North Carolina, the Catawba River has always been present — cutting across the foothills terrain, defining the borders of Burke, Catawba, Caldwell, Alexander, and Iredell counties. The industrial base that once anchored communities like Hickory, Lenoir, Morganton, Valdese, Granite Falls, Newton, Conover, and Statesville sat just a few miles off the water — reliant on it for production, processing, and growth.

The furniture and textile industries created an ecosystem — one built on hard work, strong hands, and a rhythm of life centered on stability, family, faith, and function. It worked for generations.

But the river tells a different story now.

During dry spells, it can smell off. The water flows sluggish, darkened by agricultural runoff and sediment buildup. There are more warnings than fish. If you pay attention, you can sense something’s wrong. Some blame weather. Others point upstream. I say it’s a metaphor.

Because this region is facing two crises — one in the water, and one in the economy.

The Wages of Globalization

We were told for decades that free trade would create prosperity for all. But while the large metro areas like Charlotte and Raleigh turned into hubs of capital, data, and decision-making, many towns like ours — built on local manufacturing — were simply carved out of the equation.

In Hickory, more than 40,000 manufacturing jobs have disappeared since the 1980s. These weren’t just jobs — they were careers, traditions, and roots. The kind of work you could build a household on.

Wages flattened. Stability frayed. And many of our best and brightest began to leave.

Statistical models suggest that roughly one in three young adults (ages 20 to 34) have left the Hickory-Lenoir-Morganton metro area over the past 14 years. It’s not hard to understand why. When the work disappears, opportunity often goes with it.

Meanwhile, more than 460 permitted discharges continue to pollute the Catawba River — primarily from upstream poultry operations and industrial waste. It’s not just environmental degradation — it’s a signal of systemic disregard.

If we want a future worth staying for, we’ll have to build it ourselves — with new tools, new skills, and renewed control over our direction.

From Mill Hands to Tech Stewards

This isn’t a pitch for tech bros or glossy innovation zones. It’s about practical adaptation.

Boise, Idaho saw $15 billion in private investment flow into a semiconductor facility. In five years, with help from community colleges, they trained 2,000 people and sparked more than 15,000 jobs — direct and indirect.

That’s not fiction. That’s a roadmap.

Here in Hickory, we could launch a tailored version of that blueprint — through Catawba Valley Community College (CVCC) and local partnerships. The proposal is simple: train 1,000 young people over five years in robotics, AI, and green tech, with an emphasis on environmental restoration and modern manufacturing.

The results could be:

· 500 new green jobs

· $15 million in wages

· $5 million in regional product and service sales

· A meaningful reduction in youth outmigration

This isn’t about chasing a trend. It’s about restoring the value of staying rooted.

Culture and Commitment

Training alone isn’t enough. People have to believe in it.

That’s where culture matters. Behavioral nudges — like a “Tech Star” badge — might seem small, but they carry weight in communities where pride is earned, not given. Visibility, status, and identity all matter.

This kind of acknowledgment reinforces that we’re not just offering training — we’re honoring a new kind of working-class excellence. Not abstract coding. Not remote work for someone else’s platform. But local skills with visible outcomes.

We’re not asking people to forget who they are. We’re asking them to carry their values into the next era — with new tools in hand.

Resistance Is Expected

There will be resistance. Some worry robots and AI will replace them. Others don’t trust institutions that promise change and deliver bureaucracy.

The skepticism is real — and earned.

We’ve watched initiatives come and go. We’ve seen factories close and tax incentives vanish. We’ve seen big promises end in empty buildings and quiet layoffs.

But this moment is different.

We’re not waiting for someone to bring back the old jobs. We’re building new ones that serve our needs and our land. Environmental recovery and economic relevance aren’t separate goals — they’re interwoven.

Yes, we’ll face funding competition. Yes, green tech policy will shift. But if we let the uncertainty freeze us, we’ll continue to drift — and we can’t afford that any longer.

The River Isn’t the Only Thing That’s Been Polluted

The Catawba River carries more than water. It carries the weight of what’s been lost — and the potential of what could still be reclaimed.

We can’t wait for approval from people who’ve never heard of our towns.
We can’t define ourselves by what we used to make. And we can’t expect the next generation to stay unless we give them something meaningful to stay for.

This isn’t about nostalgia. It’s about survival.

Robotics. AI. Clean water. Work with purpose.

These aren’t buzzwords. They’re what a working-class future looks like in the 21st century. And we still have the power to shape it — if we act.

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What Happens When a Southern Mill Town Bets Its Future on Robots and a River

Follow @hickoryhound on X and share using #FoothillsCorridor and #RuralRevival. https://thehickoryhound.blogspot.com/

This isn’t about going viral. It’s about going forward!

References:
Pollution Threats
More than 460 permitted discharges continue to pollute the Catawba River, according to the Catawba Riverkeeper Foundation. — https://www.catawbariverkeeper.org/state-of-the-river

• Manufacturing Decline
  Reuters reported that Hickory lost over 40,000 manufacturing jobs as globalization took hold (Reuters).- https://fred.stlouisfed.org/series/HICK837MFG

• Youth Outmigration
  Roughly one in three young adults have left the area in recent years (Reuters follow-up). — https://www.niche.com/places-to-live/hickory-catawba-nc/residents/

• Boise Tech Blueprint
  Micron’s $15 billion investment in Boise, Idaho demonstrates the potential of tech-driven regional renewal (Micron press release). — https://www.micron.com/about/careers/apprenticeship

• CVCC Green Tech Training
  Catawba Valley Community College offers workforce programs like Sustainability Technologies to train students in renewable energy and environmental solutions. — https://www.cvcc.edu/Academic-Resources/Programs/Industrial/Workforce-Solutions-Complex.cfm

Economic Inequality

North Carolina

Foothills Corridor

Brain Drain

Water Crisis

Communities of the Catawba River: Where Industry Rose and Power Shifted

The Catawba River flows with the memory of work. For decades, it coursed through the engine room of western North Carolina, passing through towns that once stood at the center of industry, innovation, and regional momentum. Morganton, Hickory, and the Town of Catawba are not merely dots on a map—they are milestones in a journey that reveals how prosperity is won, and how influence is quietly lost.

 

Morganton: The Foundry of Foundation

Nestled near the South Mountains and Lake James, Morganton bears the weight of a longer history than most towns in North Carolina can claim. Long before European colonists arrived, this land was home to the Mississippian culture—a place called Joara, where Hernando de Soto’s men built Fort San Juan in 1567. It was the first European settlement in the interior of North America. But Morganton’s modern history was forged in factories. Incorporated in 1784 and eventually becoming the county seat of Burke County, Morganton built its reputation as a center of furniture manufacturing, textiles, and skilled labor.

Today, the echoes of that industrial era are still visible, though the economy has changed. Morganton has embraced revitalization, leaning into its cultural heritage and natural beauty to remain relevant. But the river still runs through it—feeding into a broader regional identity that ties it to Hickory and beyond. What the town now grapples with is not the memory of what it once was, but the uncertainty of what role it can play in a region whose power has shifted downstream.

 

Hickory: The Engine That Stalled

Further east, the City of Hickory stands as a symbol of what western North Carolina once promised. It was here that craft met commerce—where woodworking mastery fueled one of the nation’s most respected furniture industries. Hickory didn’t just grow; it led. With a metro population surpassing 365,000 today, it remains the economic anchor of the Unifour region.

But like many manufacturing towns, Hickory suffered under the weight of globalization and deindustrialization. Its once-bustling factories gave way to empty warehouses, and its skilled labor force faced an uncertain future. Yet, Hickory is nothing if not adaptive. The city invested in fiber-optic infrastructure, recruited data centers, and modernized its hospitals and universities. It launched the City Walk—a pedestrian corridor meant to reshape urban life and attract new investment.

Still, beneath the city’s aesthetic reinvention is a more sobering reality. When Charlotte requested a massive interbasin transfer from the Catawba River nearly two decades ago—33 million gallons a day—Hickory had the means to respond, but not the posture. It invested in image but not in influence. And when the decision passed without significant pushback, it became clear: the city that once defined the region’s economy had lost its regional leverage. The water flows on. So does the power.

 

Catawba: The Forgotten Fulcrum

At the edge of Lake Norman, the Town of Catawba carries a quieter legacy. Incorporated in 1893, this modest community once depended on agriculture and the railroad. Its population has never breached a thousand, and yet, it sits at a critical juncture—close to the river’s path and just west of where Charlotte begins to extend its reach.

Catawba’s story is not about dominance but proximity. As the Catawba River slows into Lake Norman, the conversation shifts from economic development to water politics. And though this town doesn’t drive the policy decisions that govern the basin, it is directly affected by them. The town’s access to natural resources is shaped by deals struck elsewhere. Its future is tied to voices it often cannot hear.

Catawba is not forgotten by geography. It’s forgotten by the dynamics of decision-making. And it shares that plight with Morganton and Hickory, even if the scale is different.

The River Remembers

The western section of the Catawba River—from the highlands near Morganton to the confluence near Catawba—is not just a series of tributaries. It is a continuum of culture, labor, and value. These communities helped build North Carolina’s industrial backbone. They trained generations of craftsmen, seeded public institutions, and created wealth for people far beyond their borders.

But in today’s policy environment, they are too often treated as peripheral. Decisions about water use, development incentives, and infrastructure investment are now made in Charlotte’s orbit. The river is still theirs—but the influence is not.

Conclusion: A Call for Rebalancing

If the communities of the western Catawba River are to reclaim their place in the regional dialogue, they must act as a bloc—not in nostalgia, but in clarity. They must assert their importance not just through history, but through vision. The river remembers what these cities built. Now they must remember what they’re still capable of.

They sit not at the edge of the story—but at its turning point.

 

Communities of the Catawba River: Where the River Begins

Hickory, NC News & Views | Hickory Hound | May 25, 2025

Catawba River Crisis: Charlotte’s Water Demand and the 25-Year Strain on Catawba County - April 8, 2025

The Catawba River Crisis: A Foothills Fight for the Future - April 16, 2025

 

Can Hickory’s Youth Turn a River Crisis Into a Tech Revolution? - April 22, 2025

#HickoryNC #MogantonNC #CatawbaNC #CatawbaRiver #FoothillsCorridor  #RegionalVoice #TheHickoryHound #CommunitiesOfTheCatawba  #BurkeCounty #CatawbaCounty #WesternNC #NCWater #Deindustrialization #NAFTA #FoothillsCorridor #I40 #DukeEnergy  #WaterGovernance #MountainToMetro #RegionalPlanning #NCWater

Communities of the Catawba River: Where the River Begins

 

Old Fort and Marion 

In the quiet corners of western North Carolina, where the Blue Ridge Mountains give way to wooded ridges and rushing streams, the towns of Old Fort and Marion sit near the genesis of the Catawba River. Though small in size, these communities are foundational to the broader story of the Catawba—geographically, historically, and symbolically. 

Old Fort, with a population of just over 800, lies at the foot of the Swannanoa Gap. It's here, from the mist-laden trails leading to Catawba Falls, that the river begins its descent. This town was once a military outpost on the edge of Colonial civilization, trading ground between settlers and Native peoples, and later a rail town that hoped, but never quite managed, to become a major hub. The Catawba River runs through it in the form of Mill Creek, one of the headwater streams feeding the basin. Though often viewed as peripheral in modern planning, Old Fort is closer to the Catawba's origin than any other municipality. 

 

 

Marion, just down the road, serves as the county seat of McDowell County and a gateway between the mountains and the foothills. It boasts a richer population and a longer commercial lineage than Old Fort, but the two towns are linked by geography, infrastructure, and economic history. Marion has its own greenway that traces the river’s path, and its residents, like those in Old Fort, rely on the health and governance of that water—even as decisions about its allocation are increasingly made farther downstream. 

Both towns sit outside the centers of influence that now determine how the Catawba is distributed and who benefits from its flow. They are not fighting for control—but they are watching the conversation shift. As more people downstream seek access to the river’s limited capacity, towns like Old Fort and Marion are left to wonder how their place in that system will be acknowledged. 

Together, these communities mark the westernmost pulse of the Catawba’s journey. They don't claim control over the river, nor are they the source of its policy, but they represent its beginning—its physical and civic point of origin. As the first part in the Communities of the Catawba River series, this story isn’t about political struggle or environmental crisis. It’s about place. It’s about being at the beginning of something bigger, and wondering, as the river flows eastward: who will remember where it started?

Hickory, NC News & Views | Hickory Hound | May 25, 2025

Catawba River Crisis: Charlotte’s Water Demand and the 25-Year Strain on Catawba County - April 8, 2025

The Catawba River Crisis: A Foothills Fight for the Future - April 16, 2025

Can Hickory’s Youth Turn a River Crisis Into a Tech Revolution? - April 22, 2025

#OldFortNC #CatawbaRiver #CatawbaFalls #FoothillsCorridor  #RegionalVoice #TheHickoryHound #CommunitiesOfTheCatawba  #Headwaters #WesternNC #NCWater #MarionNC #CatawbaRiver #FoothillsCorridor #I40Corridor  #WaterGovernance #MountainToMetro #RegionalPlanning #NCWater