This week I did a three deep dives into issues that truly impact the Economic Social and cultural dynamics of our region. Below is a quick summary of each, along with a 500 word synopsis and a link to the full deep dive if you have not already read it.
The Forgotten Grid: Towns That Industry Left Behind - June 10, 2025 - Drexel, Hildebran, and Valdese once thrived on industry—but global shifts left them behind. Now marked by aging populations, empty mills, and stalled growth, these towns embody the human cost of economic abandonment. This report examines their rise, fall, and quiet resilience—asking whether modern planning will continue to ignore them, or finally bring them back into the fold.
The Center Cannot Hold: Hickory’s Uneven Growth in a Fractured County - June 10, 2025: Hickory’s downtown revival masks deeper fractures in Catawba County. While new trails and tech jobs signal progress, aging infrastructure, school disparities, and uneven investment reveal a region divided. From Mountain View to Maiden, the foundation is straining. This report examines whether Hickory’s growth story can truly hold—before the cracks at the edges pull the center apart. 500 word summary of this article
Keep the Crawdads: Strategic Intelligence Report on Hickory’s Baseball Future - June 12, 2025: Hickory’s Crawdads face uncertain ownership, regional neglect, and mounting pressure from MLB contraction trends. This strategic report lays out the stakes, from economic impact to civic identity, calling for proactive local action. Lose the Crawdads, and Hickory risks more than a team—it risks surrendering its place in America’s baseball fabric. The time to act is now. 500 word summary of this article.
Not Broken. Not Bought. Not Theirs. A Field Manual for the Self-Educated Builder
1. You Weren’t the Problem
There are people who were never meant to thrive in the system they were born into. Not because they lacked intelligence or will—but because the structure around them was never designed to cultivate either. If you didn’t fall in line, if you didn’t flatter the right gatekeepers, if your questions cut too deep—you were labeled. Disruptive. Difficult. Broken.
I wasn’t broken. I just wasn’t theirs.
Public school was a machine that punished difference. It rewarded submission and left little room for the curious, the restless, or the strategic. It wasn’t about mastery. It was about conformity. I didn’t evolve into who I am through their system. I have survived it, despite everything it took from me. My education started the moment I stopped seeking their approval.
I live in a cold war with the society that thought it could diagnose me into silence.
2. The System Was Working Exactly As Intended
If it ever seemed like the system failed people like us, it’s because it was never built to serve us in the first place. Its purpose isn’t enlightenment. It’s hierarchy. The goal isn’t to teach—it’s to sort.
What they call "education" is often credential inflation and cultural grooming. They train managers, not builders. Repeaters, not originators. The deeper you think, the harder you fall through their cracks. People stopped learning because the system trained them to believe their degree was the finish line.
The "educated" class talks a lot, but listens little. They confuse resume polish for insight. Meanwhile, the world changes beneath their feet, and they don’t even notice until their institutions start to collapse.
They didn't outgrow the old world. They ignored the new one. And now they think their failure to evolve is your failure.
3. The Tools Finally Came
For most of my life, I could see more than I could say. I had ideas that didn’t fit into their formats, questions they wouldn't tolerate, insights no one had a place for. Then the tools arrived. AI. Open platforms. Self-publishing. The collapse of gatekeepers.
I didn't suddenly become smarter. The world just finally offered tools sharp enough to match my mind. I didn’t get louder. The noise around me finally cracked enough for my voice to get through.
Now I write the truths I was punished for asking. I build frameworks the planners never considered. I analyze the local economy, the cultural decay, the civic breakdown—and I don’t need anyone's permission to do it.
You can call it journalism. You can call it strategy. I call it survival.
4. What I’m Building
The Hickory Hound isn’t a blog. It’s a navigation system. A decoded map for people who know something’s wrong but can't get the signal through the noise. I’m tracking water conflicts, minor league team relocations, collapsing infrastructure, and regional economic patterns because those things matter. Not in theory—in day-to-day life.
Our civic class doesn’t want to confront reality. They want applause for incrementalism while the floorboards rot underneath. But I don’t write to flatter the officials. I write to warn the people.
Every story is a pressure point. Every data point is a clue. Every article is a piece of the map for people who still believe in rebuilding, even if they’ve been pushed to the margins.
I’m not here to entertain. I’m here to equip.
5. We Are Not Broken
If you’ve ever been told you ask too many questions, that you care too much, that you expect too much clarity—you’re not alone.
You’re not broken. You’re just not theirs.
The world is changing. The gatekeepers are slipping. The Normies who've always mocked the idea of collapse now live in its early chapters. And those of us who were forced to figure things out the hard way—we're not the problem.
We’re the blueprint.
And we’re not waiting for permission to keep building.
Title: Reading the Signals: How to Spot Real Change Before It Becomes Obvious
Audience:
The Hickory Hound readership.
Overview:
This report gives a working system for identifying the first signs of real
change in a region. Not hype. Not noise. Not press releases. These are the
early markers—ideas, efforts, and small wins—that show whether we’re moving
forward or just spinning our wheels. Every real comeback starts small. The key
is learning to spot it early, support it wisely, and separate momentum from
distraction.
I. Three Kinds of Signals That Matter
1. Woo Signals – These are just ideas—early-stage
thoughts tossed around in conversations, meetings, or back porches. Example: A teacher wonders aloud if an old storefront could be a tech
lab. Why it matters: Even the best projects start with “what if.” Don’t laugh
these off. Track who’s saying what and how often it comes up.
2. Faint Signals – These are ideas with legs.
Somebody’s filled out a grant form, started a committee, or lined up a meeting. Example: A community college designs a course but hasn’t enrolled
students yet. Why it matters: These efforts are in motion. They might fizzle, or they
might catch. These are the inflection points.
3. Weak Signals – These are projects that have
launched—maybe just barely, but they’re running. Example: A food hub distributes local produce. A trail opens. A
broadband pilot begins. Why it matters: This is proof-of-concept territory. These efforts
deserve real support and follow-up. If they work, they can be scaled. If they
fail, we learn.
II.
How to Read the Ground
To spot signals, you have to know what
to watch for. Here’s the short list:
· Look at the gaps
– Progress isn’t even. A new park doesn’t mean the town’s fixed. Watch the
contrast. What’s improving? What’s still busted?
· Follow infrastructure – Where are they putting money? Fiber lines, permits,
trails, job centers—these are signals in plain sight.
· Watch the young and the old – If a town is holding on to both,
it’s stable. If either group is drifting out, pay attention. Losing young
people means the future is leaking out. Losing elders often means a loss of
roots, memory, and care. If both are leaving, that’s a full-system warning.
· Listen to how people talk – Are folks talking about what’s possible, or only what’s
broken? Mindset shifts show up in everyday language.
· Track the connectors – Some people operate in multiple circles at once—pastors,
coaches, teachers, civic volunteers. They help move ideas, resources, and
energy from one part of the community to another. Watch what roles they’re
playing and which projects they’re involved in—they’re often the glue that
makes progress possible.
· Measure impact, not noise – Activity doesn’t mean progress. Ask: who benefits? Can it
last? Does it spread? Is it connected to other efforts?
III.
What to Do With What You See
· Keep a list
– Track Woo, Faint, and Weak signals in your town. Update it. Share it.
· Ask follow-up questions – What happened to that pilot program? Did that grant get
awarded?
· Connect the dots
– Don’t let wins sit in silos. A new trail is good. A trail that connects to
housing, jobs, and small business? That’s a signal moving up the chain.
Final
Word
The Foothills won’t be rebuilt
overnight. But that doesn’t mean nothing’s happening. The signs are there—you
just have to know what you’re looking for. This framework isn’t theory. It’s a
tool for people who are paying attention, who care about where this region is
going, and who aren’t fooled by flash.
Look for the real work. Support the
early steps. And don’t let small wins go unnoticed.
-------------------------------------------
GROUND LEVEL REPORT
These are active, confirmed developments already visible in the region:
Juice Apothecary opens brick-and-mortar store in Harris Arcade
→ Storefront is open and operating. This is not an idea, it’s an active retail shift.
Apprenticeship and training programs by Sonoco, CVMC, and City of Hickory
→ Job listings are live. Partnerships are in motion. These are already formalized and publicly available.
Grassroots environmental cleanups in Burke and Valdese
→ Events have already occurred. Volunteer activity is documented and measurable.
EARLY SIGNAL REPORT
These are real, but either subtle, emergent, or quietly gaining ground. They suggest larger shifts if they grow.
E-bike adoption among older residents
→ Anecdotal chatter + light observational data. Not yet a dominant trend, but points to a shift in how older adults engage with mobility and greenways.
Hickory Hangout (Millennial/Gen Z Meetup) social traction
→ The group exists and is growing quickly. It hasn’t yet transformed the local social landscape, but the growth rate and demographic interest signal a potential cultural inflection.
Underreported Regional Report – June 7, 2025 Hickory-Lenoir-Morganton-Marion MSA (Link to Google Doc)
This analysis highlights four critical, underreported developments in the Hickory MSA between May 8 and June 7, 2025. First, a string of shootings in Morganton and Hickory has raised public safety concerns. A Morganton incident on May 31 left one dead and two injured, followed by a mass shooting in Hickory on June 1. Despite growing online discussion and speculation of connections between these events, broader media coverage has been minimal.
Second, the Humane Society of Catawba County terminated its executive director following an independent investigation into misconduct. Although covered locally, this accountability shift in a vital nonprofit has not received attention beyond the region.
Third, local authorities report a spike in scams targeting residents—ranging from fake DMV texts to calls impersonating law enforcement. These fraud attempts threaten public trust, yet remain absent from state or national headlines.
Finally, multiple infrastructure projects, including the U.S. 321 road project, signal upcoming investment in regional mobility and connectivity. Despite their long-term economic significance, these developments remain under the radar.
Together, these stories reveal a community managing crisis, reform, and growth simultaneously—largely unnoticed by broader media or policy institutions. Each deserves scrutiny, support, and continued local follow-through.
This list will permanently remain under the Problems & Solutions forum to your right. Look directly above and that is how you sign up for the e-mail list of the Hickory Hound to get updates.
Hickory vs. Charlotte
Contrasting Views on the Catawba River’s Challenges
The Catawba River, a
vital lifeline for North Carolina’s Piedmont region, sustains both the bustling
metropolis of Charlotte and the growing community of Hickory in Catawba County.
Yet, these two cities view the river’s challenges—growth-driven water demand, water
quality, infrastructure needs, and regional equity—through distinct lenses
shaped by their unique realities. Charlotte, with its 2025 population of
935,017 and rapid urban expansion, grapples with escalating water consumption
and infrastructure strain. Hickory, a smaller hub community, faces similar pressures but
with heightened concerns about downstream impacts and equitable access. By
comparing and contrasting these perspectives, as detailed in “Charlotte’s Water
Challenge - Balancing Growth with Sustainability” and “Hickory’s Water Woes:
Balancing Growth, Drought, and Equity on the Catawba River,” we uncover the
shared and divergent priorities of these communities and the urgent need for
regional cooperation to secure the Catawba River’s future.
Population Growth and Water Demand: Scale vs. Sustainability
Charlotte’s booming
population, projected at 935,017 in 2025 with a 1.28% annual growth rate,
drives a massive water demand that strains the Catawba River; Charlotte
withdraws 120 million gallons daily (MGD) of water for treatment (possibly up
to 160mgd per sources). The city’s growth, fueled by economic opportunities in
hospitality and construction, amplifies both domestic and commercial water use.
A single-family home in Mecklenburg County can consume up to 200 gallons daily,
and commercial sectors like hotels and construction sites add millions more
gallons to the tally. This scale of demand, aligned with national per capita
trends of 80-100 gallons daily, poses a sustainability challenge, with the
Catawba-Wateree Water Management Group (CWWMG) projecting a 20% demand increase
by 2050 if trends persist.
Hickory, by contrast,
faces a more modest but still significant growth trajectory. Catawba County’s
population has grown by 1.2% annually, with Hickory’s urban core driving
economic expansion through projects like Apple’s data center in Maiden. The
city’s water demand, averaging 12 MGD, is a fraction of Charlotte’s but
critical for its residential, commercial, and industrial needs. Hickory’s
concerns center on sustainability rather than sheer scale. Local planners worry
that water shortages could limit new housing and business permits, stalling
economic progress. As one X user noted, “We can’t keep building without
ensuring our water supply,” reflecting a community anxious about growth
outpacing the river’s capacity.
The contrast is
clear: Charlotte’s view is dominated by managing an overwhelming demand driven
by its size, while Hickory’s focus is on ensuring growth doesn’t compromise its
more limited resources. Both cities rely on the Catawba River, but Hickory’s upstream position makes it particularly vulnerable to Charlotte’s downstream
withdrawals, amplifying concerns about equitable access.
Water Quality: Public Perception and Local Impacts
Water quality,
particularly algae blooms and sediment pollution, is a shared concern, but the
cities’ perspectives differ due to their positions in the river basin and
community priorities. In Charlotte, public sentiment on X highlights frustration
with algae blooms in the Catawba River, with posts about “green water” or
“funny-tasting tap water” signaling distrust in water safety. These blooms,
fueled by nutrient runoff and warm temperatures, prompt Charlotte Water to
deploy advanced treatments like activated carbon filtration. However, public
discourse often focuses on immediate symptoms—taste and odor—rather than
systemic issues like infrastructure upgrades. This gap suggests a need for
better public education to connect quality concerns to long-term solutions.
Hickory, upstream
from Charlotte, faces compounded water quality challenges. Sediment pollution
from rapid development, including housing and industrial projects, clouds the
Catawba River and Lake Hickory, the city’s primary water source. The Catawba
Riverkeeper Foundation reports that sediment runoff, exacerbated by
construction, increases turbidity and treatment costs, directly impacting
Hickory’s residents through potential utility rate hikes. Additionally, the
foundation’s 2024 State of the River report notes 460 permitted wastewater
discharges across the basin, with upstream pollutants flowing into Hickory’s
water supply. Local X posts echo these concerns, with residents decrying muddy
creeks and worrying about long-term impacts on drinking water and ecosystems.
While both cities
grapple with water quality, Charlotte’s focus is on managing public perception
and treatment costs for a large urban population, whereas Hickory’s view is
shaped by the tangible downstream effects of upstream pollution and
development. Hickory’s residents feel the brunt of regional activities,
fostering a sense of urgency to address pollution sources beyond their control.
Infrastructure and Innovation: Investment vs. Constraint
Both cities rely on
innovative infrastructure to manage water challenges, but their approaches
reflect their differing resources and priorities. Charlotte Water has
implemented standout programs like biosolids management, using kenaf to
transform wastewater byproducts into fertilizer, and advanced algae control to
ensure safe drinking water. These initiatives address the pressures of a
growing population but face significant hurdles, including a $2 billion funding
gap for regional water projects through 2050 and aging pipes leaking millions
of gallons annually. Charlotte’s scale allows for ambitious programs, but the
pace of upgrades lags behind its rapid growth.
Hickory, with fewer
financial resources, focuses on practical, incremental solutions. The city has
leveraged a recent NCDEQ grant for leak detection programs and collaborates
with the CWWMG and USGS for enhanced streamflow monitoring to manage drought
risks. The Low Inflow Protocol (LIP), activated during the 2023 drought,
reduced Hickory’s water use by 10%, showcasing effective regional coordination
with Duke Energy and other utilities. However, Hickory’s infrastructure
challenges mirror Charlotte’s on a smaller scale, with aging systems and budget
constraints limiting progress. The city’s proactive measures, like advocating
for erosion control on construction sites, aim to mitigate sediment pollution
but struggle against inconsistent enforcement.
Charlotte’s
infrastructure view is one of large-scale innovation tempered by funding gaps,
while Hickory’s is defined by resource constraints and a reliance on regional
data and cooperation. Both cities face the challenge of modernizing aging
systems, but Hickory’s smaller tax base heightens the urgency of cost-effective
solutions.
Regional Equity: Cooperation vs. Competition
The most striking
contrast lies in the cities’ views on regional water management, particularly
regarding Charlotte’s proposed interbasin transfer of 30 MGD to the Yadkin-Pee
Dee Basin. Charlotte sees the transfer as essential to support its population
and industrial growth, arguing that its economic contributions benefit the
region. However, this proposal has sparked fierce opposition in Hickory, where
residents and officials, backed by the Catawba Riverkeeper, view it as a threat
to upstream water security. Removing 30 MGD—equivalent to a quarter of the
basin’s flow during droughts—could lower Lake Hickory’s levels, impacting
drinking water, recreation, and hydropower. A Hickory resident’s X post
captured the sentiment: “Why should Hickory sacrifice water so Charlotte can
grow?”
This tension
underscores a broader divide: Charlotte’s urban-centric perspective prioritizes
its own growth, while Hickory’s upstream view emphasizes equity and regional
fairness. The CWWMG offers a framework for cooperation, but Hickory’s opposition
to the transfer highlights a lack of trust in equitable resource allocation.
Hickory advocates for alternatives, like Charlotte investing in water
recycling, to reduce basin-wide strain, reflecting a community fighting to
protect its share of a shared resource.
A Shared Path Forward
Despite their
differences, Charlotte and Hickory share a dependence on the Catawba River and
face similar pressures from growth, water quality, and infrastructure needs.
Charlotte’s challenges—massive demand, public distrust, and funding
gaps—require large-scale solutions and public engagement. Hickory’s
realities—vulnerability to upstream pollution, limited resources, and concerns
over regional water equity—demand proactive advocacy and collaboration. Both
cities can learn from each other: Charlotte’s innovative programs, like
biosolids management, could inspire Hickory, while Hickory’s focus on
conservation and monitoring offers lessons for sustainable growth.
For Hickory Hound
readers, the Catawba River’s future hinges on unity. Residents can support
conservation, advocate for stricter pollution controls, and push for fair water
policies through platforms like the NCDEQ’s public hearings. Charlotte’s
residents, meanwhile, must recognize their upstream impact and support regional
solutions like the CWWMG. As one X user in Hickory aptly stated, “The Catawba
River is our future—let’s protect it.” By bridging their perspectives,
Charlotte and Hickory can ensure the river remains a lifeline for all.
This list will permanently remain under the Problems & Solutions forum to your right. Look directly above and that is how you sign up for the e-mail list of the Hickory Hound to get updates.
This past
Tuesday, I addressed Can
Hickory’s Youth Turn a River Crisis Into a Tech Revolution? "In the
Foothills Corridor, the river isn’t the only thing under pressure. Our future
is too. If we don’t train and keep our next generation of talent now, the
current will sweep it all away."The
Catawba River crisis isn’t just an environmental warning — it’s a signal that
Hickory must pivot now. This article lays out a plan: build a tech and
environmental workforce through local youth training, strategic investment, and
real incentives — not pep talks. It’s not about saving the past. It’s about
creating a future where staying here is a power move, not a consolation prize.
On Thursday, I posted The
Hickory Hound Frequently Asked Questions - TheHickory Hound isn’t a news feed.
It’s a command post—for working-class dignity, strategic truth, and cultural
survival in the Foothills Corridor. This FAQ lays out exactly what the Hickory
Hound is: a platform built to expose economic realities, defend working-class
culture, and teach strategic thinking for Flyover America. It’s not about
chasing headlines—it’s about building intellectual infrastructure for those
ready to rebuild with clarity, strength, and purpose.
Hickory NC, Foothills Corridor, Western North Carolina, Catawba River Crisis, Economic Development, Youth Workforce Development, Renewable Energy Jobs, American Reindustrialization, Rural Tech Training, Civic Engagement, Hickory NC Politics, Collapse of Civic Life, Local Media Collapse, Regional Unity, Hickory Hound
This is Rachel AI, and what you’re
about to hear is something that has to be said.
The Foothills Corridor—20 counties—the heart of Western North Carolina, for far
too long, has been a footnote in someone else’s economy. Factories closed, the
younger generations moved away, and our resources have been taken for granted.
The paradigm needs to shift. In places Hickory,
Lenoir, and Morganton, and also Statesville, Gastonia, Marion, and North
Wilkesboro we are going to have to embrace change and get ahead of the curve.
Our number 1 opponent? is our own resistance. No one is going to help us if we
don’t stand up to be noticed and take ownership of our communities.
So
many fear what the world has become, but whether you like it or not… THAT is
the playing field… THAT is the Economic, Social, and Cultural reality. And one
thing is for sure, you will not have any impact on it if you attempt shut it
up, shut it off, and shut it down. Our
greatest threat isn’t the outside world—it’s the self-destruction of our own
inaction.
What’s happening all around you? We are
in a paradigm shift and it is happening so fast that we can’t afford
complacency or we are going to be left out in the cold again. Manufacturing is
coming back to the United States, because if it doesn’t this country will
mimick the Third World in a generation. United States Secretary of the Treasury
Scott Bessent is leading the charge to restore Economic balance inside and
outside of this nation.
If the Trump administration is
successful at reindustrializing America, we won’t see the manufacturing of the
last century. What we are going to see is a shift towards technological
productivity utilizing Artificial Intelligence, robotics, hybrid energy
solutions, data centers, and the need for a new tech savvy workforce. This type
of work can be performed anywhere. Why can’t it be done here?
Over the next decade, this isn’t just a
possibility. It’s something we should make personal.
Let’s get one thing straight—the people of this region know how to work. We’ve
always known how to build things. Now we’ve got to make it count. We’ve got to
start learning how to build the future.
In the Foothills Corridor… in Hickory…
AI isn’t some Silicon Valley fantasy—we have young people training for the
future right now. We are making the investments—but we want them to be able to
stay here. We want them to be able to stay and use their technological acumen
to help resolve issues like the issues with the Catawba River and other
ecological problems we need to address in the area. This type of intelligence
would translate well to all of the communities of this region.
What I am talking about is not a sci-fi
fantasy. It is a new industry that can be replicated across Burke, Caldwell, McDowell,
and Iredell counties—anywhere people are willing to get on the solutions train by
committing to the new reality.
Catawba Valley Community College has
always been at the forefront of reality based vocational training. It has
always been an affordable option for working class people. And it is a
resource people need to learn to utilize to its and their fullest potential.
The same goes for Caldwell Community College, Mitchell Community College,
Western Piedmont Community College and the others. Companies like Microsoft and
Google are stepping in and investing in training programs. Suddenly, decades of brain drain can
reverse into brain gain.
The Valley Datacenter Academy is a
perfect example. It’s not just teaching I.T.—it’s giving the region a new
backbone. With the right coordination, this kind of training can be offered in
Wilkes, in Rutherford, even Alleghany counties.
Imagine a 20-year-old from Marion or
North Wilkesboro earning a living wage while helping monitor environmental
sensors or power a server farm.
This isn’t fiction; it’s logistics,
alignment, and willpower.
Tech doesn’t have to mean
gentrification or displacement. Here, it means opportunity—and a future that
doesn’t require young people to abandon their hometown to build a life.
Electricity has been a resource leaving our region just like our kids have been.
Not anymore.
Solar farms are rising where tobacco
once grew. Biogas plants are turning cow waste and Landfills into kilowatts.
Public buildings are going green not because it’s trendy—but because it’s
smart.
Duke Energy is already testing the
waters. In Catawba and McDowell counties, farmland is being repurposed for
clean energy. In Burke County, solar-powered water systems are being tested in
rural neighborhoods. We can build this into city and town infrastructure too.
And this is just the beginning.
Let’s talk jobs. These aren’t gigs.
They’re careers. Installation, maintenance, project management—jobs that can’t
be outsourced to another country.
In this decade, the Foothills can
produce a regional energy surplus. That “is” our leverage. That should be our negotiating
asset. And that’s the kind of future where a contractor in Polk County or a
technician in Mitchell County isn’t just earning income—they’re stabilizing the
region.
When the power comes from within, you
keep the wealth at home. That’s what energy independence looks like.
The Power lies in Unity, Not Uniformity
Twenty counties... One vision.
We’ve got differences—no doubt. But the
rivers and resources don’t care about county lines. Neither does poverty.
Neither should opportunity.
This region has been fragmented for too
long. Everyone fighting for crumbs, duplicating effort, tripping over red tape.
It doesn’t have to be that way.
What happens when Catawba and Wilkes Counties
coordinate grant applications? When Burke and McDowell bulk order broadband
together?
What happens is power.
Real, collective, civic power.
A Foothills Regional Assembly isn’t
just a nice idea. It’s a necessity.
· To align college curricula.
· To coordinate clean energy zoning.
· To pool resources and scale smart.
Unity doesn’t erase local identity—it
amplifies it. Hickory gets stronger when Taylorsville isn’t struggling. Marion
gets more stable when Forest City has something to stand on.
Think corridor. Think coalition. That’s
how we go from scattered to unstoppable.
Travel in time to a day in 2030.
A former furniture warehouse in Lenoir
is now a server farm, employing 85 people. A 28-year-old graduate from Wilkes
Community College works from home in Taylorsville, managing AI monitoring
software for river quality. A fifth-generation farmer in Rutherford County runs
a profitable methane digester. And in downtown Morganton, people walk a
revitalized greenway system powered by the energy of its own citizens.
These aren’t fantasies. They’re
flash-forwards. And the best part? No one had to leave to make it happen. This
is what reinvestment looks like. Not just in jobs—but in people, in place, and
in pride.
In closing, here’s the ask:
Believe in this region—loudly.
Support Shell Cooperative. Share the Hickory Hound. Tell someone in Charlotte
or D.C. that we’re not just surviving—we’re designing a new American rural
economy.
The tools are already here: Tech. Alternative energy. Collaboration.
But the real engine?
It’s people like you.
I’m Rachel AI. This has been your weekly transmission from the Hickory Hound,
rooted in the Foothills Corridor—where the next chapter isn’t waiting to be
written.
It’s already begun.
The Collapse of Civic Life and
the Rise of the Hickory Hound
When people ask why the Hickory Hound exists, the answer isn’t ambition.
It’s necessity.
It’s the product of watching a civic infrastructure decay while most people
weren't paying attention — and recognizing that if someone didn’t step in to
document it, the entire record would be lost.
Not just jobs. Not just companies. But memory itself.
The decline of the Foothills Corridor wasn’t sudden. It didn’t happen all at
once.
It was death by a thousand cuts:
·The industrial collapse that gutted factories.
·The political apathy that followed.
·The civic institutions that shrank and withered.
·The economic extraction that replaced
stewardship with short-term profit.
·And finally, the silencing of local voices
through the collapse of the local media.
The Fall of the Hickory Daily Record
The Hickory Daily Record was once a cornerstone of this region’s civic life.
Founded in 1915 by the Abernethy family, it served as a real-time ledger of the
community’s triumphs, debates, and concerns.
But over time, ownership drifted further and further from the people it
served:
·1974:
Sold to Park Communications.
·1997:
Absorbed into Media General.
·2012:
Sold to Berkshire Hathaway's BH Media Group.
·2020:
Acquired by Lee Enterprises, after Buffett divested.
With each transfer, the paper became less local and more remote.
When BH Media acquired it, the paper was no longer even printed in
Hickory—it was trucked in from Winston-Salem. The deadline for printing was
pushed earlier, meaning late-breaking local news couldn’t make it into the next
day’s edition.
Speed and relevance were the first casualties.
By 2020, during the Covid pandemic, Lee Enterprises reduced print
circulation to just three days a week. Much of what remained was wire service
filler, not local reporting.
Today, the Hickory Daily Record is essentially a web-only operation with no
significant physical presence in Hickory.
The town’s public record has become a ghost.
Without real local media, accountability dissolved.
City council meetings went uncovered.
School board controversies flew under the radar.
Development deals were made with barely a flicker of public debate.
Economic Extraction Replaces Stewardship
While local media eroded, so too did the culture of local investment.
The original benefactors — the families and businesses that once funded
parks, libraries, scholarships, and civic initiatives — gradually disappeared.
Some sold their businesses to outside investors.
Some retired with no successors.
Some simply gave up.
Their children, disconnected from the industrial base that built the
region’s wealth, often had no stake in Hickory’s survival. The deep sense of local
obligation — that what you built, you owed back to your
hometown — died out quietly.
In its place came extractors:
·Out-of-town developers buying land on the cheap,
targeting retirees instead of local working families.
·Healthcare mergers that turned hospitals into
cost centers, not community anchors.
·Universities and nonprofits that accepted grant
money but had no real presence or commitment to local outcomes.
·Foundations running “pilot projects” for optics
without deep investment in long-term success.
The Foothills Corridor was no longer a community to invest in.
It was a resource to be mined.
Civic Apathy and the Hollowing Out of Public Life
As institutions failed, civic participation collapsed.
Between 2010 and 2020, municipal election turnout across Burke, Caldwell,
and Catawba counties averaged less than 16%.
In some towns, fewer than 1 in 10 registered voters showed up to choose
leaders who controlled millions in public funds.
Civic meetings that once meant something
have become perfunctory and highly programmed with little citizen engagement..
Civic boards struggle to fill seats.
PTA groups and the chambers of commerce have fought to stay alive and be relevant.
The Fiber Optic Boom, once billed as Hickory’s comeback story, turned hollow
too.
At one point, over 60% of the world’s fiber optic cable was produced in Catawba
County.
But by 2008, global offshoring gutted the industry.
More than 15,000 manufacturing jobs vanished, and most displaced workers were
offered low-wage temp service jobs or service industry jobs with no meaningful
retraining.
The community wasn’t just economically betrayed — it was civically
demoralized.
People stopped showing up not out of laziness — but out of learned
helplessness.
When a retired educator in Morganton says, "The deals are always
made before we walk in,"
he’s not being cynical.
He’s being accurate.
Silence as a Strategy
By the 2010s, silence wasn’t just a byproduct of decline — it was a
strategy.
Local governments, overwhelmed and isolated, learned that controversy was
dangerous.
Better to say nothing.
Better to rubber-stamp than to ask hard questions.
Better to survive than to try and lead.
With no coordinated economic strategy across counties…
With no shared lobbying efforts…
With no consistent civic engagement…
The Foothills Corridor was left adrift.
In National conversation, the Rust Belt cities were mourned, our area was
isolated, abandoned, and not even mentioned.
The hollowing out wasn’t just financial. It was psychological.
People learned to expect nothing better — and stopped demanding it.
Why the Hickory Hound Exists
In this vacuum — of leadership, of communication, of memory — the Hickory
Hound was born.
Not because it was easy.
Not because it was profitable.
Because it was necessary.
Without a local platform dedicated to telling the real story of
this region’s decline — with specificity, with accountability, with a memory —
there would be no counterweight left to the silent decay.
The Hickory Hound isn’t competing with the modern Hickory Daily Record, or
local Facebook pages, or the marketing arms of development firms.
It stands alone.
It is the only platform committed to:
·Rebuilding the public record.
·Connecting economic extraction to civic decline.
·Reminding people that they have a right—and a
duty—to shape their future.
·Standing up against the corporatized, vulturous
forces that treat this region as expendable.
Every other communications platform operating here today is either:
·A commercial product,
beholden to advertisers.
·A political mouthpiece,
beholden to power brokers.
·Or a lifestyle brand,
serving as a cheerleader, not a watchdog.
The Hickory Hound exists because without it, no one else would
bother to remember.
No one else would bother to care.
No one else would stitch together the long, painful arc that led from thriving
manufacturing centers to areas dealing with blight and environmental degradation...
that led from fully functional working-class communities to run-down
neighborhoods overlooked by leadership, while their tax dollars have constantly
funded Downtown beautification."
The Path Forward
Recovery isn’t impossible.
Chapter 4 of the Foothills Corridor reminds us:
·One coalition.
·One election.
·One catalytic project can begin the reawakening
of civic pride.
But none of that happens without first telling the truth about how we got here.
The Hickory Hound’s purpose is not to entertain.
It’s to document.
To connect.
To warn.
To rally.
It is not a campaign.
It is a ledger.
It is not a brand.
It is a responsibility.
And for now — it is the only one left doing the work.
