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Tuesday, April 22, 2025

Can Hickory’s Youth Turn a River Crisis Into a Tech Revolution?

Can Hickory’s Youth Turn a River Crisis Into a Tech Revolution?

In the Foothills, there are five kinds of people:
The ones who’ve lost.
The ones who are stuck.
The ones just treading water.
The ones trying to build something.
And the ones pulling the strings—whether anyone sees it or not.

This article isn’t for one group over another. It’s for all of them—because if this region has a future, it’ll take every seat at the table.

From the banks of a strained river to the boardrooms quietly weighing what comes next, we’re at an inflection point.

Not everyone sees the warning signs.
But anyone with vision knows: you don’t wait until collapse to start adapting.


A River Under Strain, and a City in Transition

The Catawba River used to power this region. Now it’s absorbing the cost of everyone else's growth. Server farms pull millions of gallons per day. Poultry runoff pollutes the basin. The algae blooms are no longer seasonal—they’re structural.

At the same time, Hickory still hasn’t fully recovered from the collapse of its industrial base. Since the '80s, we've seen over 40,000 manufacturing jobs disappear. For the people with options, that meant moving on. For the rest? They stayed behind, took the hits, and kept going.

Charlotte continues expanding tens of thousands every year. Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill is doing the same. And Hickory/Catawba County? It’s still debating which direction it’s even facing.

 

Timeline: Key Economic Collapses in the Foothills Corridor

1994

NAFTA ratified

Accelerated textile outsourcing

1998

Broyhill Furniture sells to Interco

Begins hollowing of Lenoir’s

manufacturing base

2001

Alcatel shuts down large fiber plant in Hickory

Over 3,000 jobs lost in 6 months

2008

Great Recession hits

Double-digit unemployment across

 Burke & Caldwell

2012

American Drew ceases major production

Newton loses final legacy furniture factory

2015–2020

CommScope downsizes operations

High-paying tech/fiber jobs replaced with

lower-wage subcontracting

 


A Strategic Play—Not a Pity Program

Here’s the idea: Use the pressure on our environment to justify real investment in talent—local talent.

Train a thousand youth through CVCC over five years in robotics, AI, environmental monitoring, and automation. Equip them to solve real problems in water purification, server infrastructure, and precision agriculture.

Why? Because data centers, green tech firms, and logistics companies are already sniffing around the region. But what they want isn't dirt. It's talent.

The proposal isn't a dream. It's a workforce pipeline with a built-in ROI:

  • 500 direct jobs

  • $15 million in wages

  • $5+ million in green-tech sales

  • All built on NCWorks grants, private partners like CommScope, and federal reshoring incentives

This isn’t charity. This is leverage.

 


Behavioral Economics > Pep Talks

If you want young people to stay, you don’t talk them into it. You structure incentives.

Think visual signals of achievement—Tech Star badges, digital resumes that get flagged in hiring pipelines, public recognition campaigns like “Built in the Foothills.” Success has to look like success, especially when the default narrative says the only way to win is to leave.

This isn’t about saving a generation. It’s about making staying a power move.

 

 

 

“The Three Layers of Loss”
Economic collapse triggered cascading losses in identity and population. True reinvention must address all three layers simultaneously—not just create new jobs, but restore community and belonging

 


Reality Check: Who’s Going to Fight It?

Expect resistance.

  • Some of the old guard will dismiss it.

  • Some of the elite class will feel threatened.

  • Some bureaucrats will try to run it through ten layers of red tape just to say it died on arrival.

Let them.

You know what doesn’t work? Waiting for consensus from people with no skin in the game. You build coalitions from the middle—people who want to work, want to grow, and want to matter.

The 20% with resources want to see a plan that protects their future too. This is that plan: a cleaner river, a stronger labor force, and a more valuable region.

Metrics

Why it matters

Goals

Youth Retention

Keeps Talent Home

Reduce out-migration from 33% to 20%

Broadband Access

Enables Tech Jobs

From 87.5% to 95% Household coverage by 2030


 

Don’t Sell the Struggle. Sell the Strategy.

This isn’t about being stuck in the past. It’s about building a future that works for more than just the top 1%.

But if the Foothills is going to pull this off, we need every player on the field—from the high school dropout with a work ethic to the regional exec watching this all from the country club boardroom.

This proposal is a win for both. Because when your basin collapses, your real estate loses value. When your workforce leaves, your supply chain falters. When your town dries up, you’re left guarding a pile of depreciating assets.

 

 


 

Let’s Talk—In Public

I’m not interested in posting this and walking away.

At some point soon, I’d like to organize a public forum—open to residents, entrepreneurs, educators, skeptics, and anyone with an interest in what this region becomes.

This isn’t about slogans. It’s about positioning Hickory for the next 25 years, not the last 50. And if that future includes robotics, AI, clean infrastructure, and strategic training partnerships—so be it.

But we better decide fast.

Because while we argue, the best talent and the cleanest water are both walking out the back door.

Let’s start rowing. Before the current takes the rest of us with it.

hickoryhoundfeedback@gmail.com


Commander Shell
The Hickory Hound

Monday, April 21, 2025

Hickory, NC News & Views | Hickory Hound | April 20, 2025

 

 

This week on The Hickory Hound, we examined the toll globalization has taken—not just on jobs, but on the American spirit itself. Tuesday’s article, “The Hidden Wound,” traced how decades of offshoring hollowed out communities like ours and left a psychic scar still unhealed. On Thursday’s podcast, “The Catawba River Crisis,” we followed the water upstream and the money downstream, showing how our most vital resource has been sacrificed to feed someone else’s growth. Both pieces lead to one question: can we still build something real—for ourselves, and not just for those who profit from our silence

Tuesday, April 15, 2025 - How Globalization Shattered the American Spirit - The Hidden Wound: How Globalization Shattered the American Spirit—And What We Can Do About It

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Smoke, Mud, and Money: How the Foothills Are Fighting Back After Helene

It’s Spring 2025 in the Foothills. But forget the flowers and sunshine. Here, it’s smoke in the air, mud underfoot, and the long, grinding road to economic survival after Hurricane Helene flipped Western North Carolina upside down.

Let’s get one thing straight: This isn’t a look back. This is a live report from McDowell, Rutherford, Polk, and Cleveland Counties. Let’s go.


Segment 1: Economics – Helene’s Aftermath: A Crisis in the Shadows

In the wake of Hurricane Helene, there are still people in crisis—not just water damage and downed trees. We’re talking about people—our Western neighbors—living in tents, trailers, and other temporary housing.

It gets worse. External investors—many with ties to lithium and quartz mining and other rare earth minerals—are swooping in, buying land from distressed homeowners for pennies on the dollar. That’s not a deal—it’s taking advantage of vulnerable people.

And where’s the federal aid? Apparently, $9 billion in aid was promised back in December, but barely a fraction has arrived. Where is the sense of urgency? Meanwhile, with a sense of urgency, corporate vultures have swooped in to pick the bones of these communities.

This isn’t just an economic story—it’s a warning. When disaster strikes, rural folks become targets—not just of nature, but of a corrupt system that takes advantage of people when they are vulnerable.


Segment 1: McDowell County – Fire on the Mountain

April 15th, 2025—The Bee Rock Creek Fire sparked near the Armstrong Fish Hatchery. Over 850 acres scorched, still just 10% contained. 180 firefighters from across the region are fighting uphill—literally—on slopes jammed with trees and debris from Helene. Evacuations on Wild Acres Road, and that’s just the start.

McDowell’s still reeling from the flood that shut down Baxter International’s plant in Marion. Medical supply chains disrupted, jobs gone. And now this fire—more pressure, more strain. The NC Forest Service is short over 100 people. Fires are burning faster than they can respond. Meanwhile, the Foothills Food Hub does what it can, but the gap is too wide.


Segment 2: Rutherford County – Hope on a Dirty Shoreline

Yes, Lake Lure is open. So are Rutherfordton, Spindale, and Forest City. But don’t let the welcome signs fool you. Cleanup continues. Chimney Rock? Still closed. Broad River? Still clogged with debris. The dam? Still looming.

Oliver Anthony’s rally brought in $80,000 for Helene recovery. SBA loans extended through April 27. FEMA is trickling in some help. But ask local businesses in downtown Rutherfordton, and they’ll tell you—it doesn’t feel like recovery. It feels like survival. And the $633 million state budget for debris? Nice headline. But when it’s split a dozen ways, most of it evaporates before it lands.


Segment 3: Polk County – Where the Ashes Are Still Hot

March brought three wildfires—Black Cove, Deep Woods, and Fish Hook. 6,000 acres torched, only 10% contained by spring. Table Rock? Now the biggest wildfire in Upstate history. Mandatory evacuations, four homes lost, air quality—Code Red.

Polk depends on farming and tourism. Wildfires crushed both. Landfills are maxed out, debris is everywhere. FEMA is stepping in to help with roads and bridges. Reforestation grants are coming, but they can’t keep pace. Locals are stepping up—volunteers with chainsaws, farmers replanting. But let’s be real—this is duct tape on a gaping wound.


Segment 4: Cleveland County – The Quiet Struggle

Shelby went dark after Helene. Duke Energy had power mostly restored by October, but the damage didn’t end there. Roads, homes, businesses—still struggling. Cleveland has helped others—feeding kids, checking in on the elderly. But that’s not development; that’s triage.

Broadband is coming. U.S. 74 is finally getting its upgrade. But these are seeds, and the soil is still scorched. Until the foundations are rebuilt, industry’s not coming back. And time is running out.


The Big Picture

Helene caused $60 billion in damage. 121,000 homes hit. 12,000 people still displaced as of January. Now wildfires—fueled by over 800,000 acres of Helene debris—are kicking recovery while it's down.

Yes, there’s help. But not enough. Not fast enough. And not directed where it’s most needed. Raleigh’s debating ferry tolls, meanwhile, our mountains are on fire. And it’s the local folks—the food hubs, the volunteers, the school systems—that are holding the line. The ones doing the most have the least to fall back on.


Final Thought

This isn’t a story about doom. This is a story about grit. But grit doesn’t pour concrete. It doesn’t replace jobs. It doesn’t build broadband. The Foothills corridor is still standing, still fighting. But we’re doing it with smoke in our lungs and shovels in our hands. And if nobody else is watching? Then it’s up to us to make them.

I’ve also started contributing articles over on Medium. That content is aimed at the national stage—to get the folks in Washington and the big metro areas to finally pay attention to places like ours.

Patreon is in the works. That’ll be the place for people who want to support this platform directly—and gain access to special reports, deep dives, and behind-the-scenes material from this blog’s beginning.

My cookbook A Book of Seasons is now live on Amazon. And I’ll have personal copies ready later this week. My next cookbook Saucy is almost done—it’ll be submitted shortly, and I’ll keep you in the loop.

And finally—my next major project: a book that defines the past, present, and future of the Foothills Corridor. It’s underway, and I’m deep in the work.

Commander Shell, signing off from the Hound.


Relevant Links:

Wednesday, April 16, 2025

The Catawba River Crisis: A Foothills Fight for the Future


🎙️ Podcast Title: The Catawba River Crisis: A Foothills Fight for the Future
🎤 Narrated by: Rachel A.I. for The Hickory Hound Podcast
🧠 Research by: James Thomas Shell, X.A.I., ChatGPT


This is Rachel A.I. for The Hickory Hound Podcast, where we tackle the issues shaping the heart of western North Carolina. I’m your host, and the information below has been gathered under the direction of James Thomas Shell—organized and collated by X.A.I. and produced with the assistance of ChatGPT and Commander Shell.

Today, we’re following up on an article published early last week titled The Catawba River Crisis: Charlotte’s Water Demand and the 25-Year Strain on Catawba County.

We’re going to connect this environmental issue to the broader story of the Foothills Corridor—a 20-county region that’s endured economic collapse and is now seeking reinvention. This isn’t about hype. It’s about truth. Understanding the stakes. Learning from the past. And outlining what we do next.

Let’s get into it.


The Catawba River is a lifeline for the Foothills Corridor. It originates about ten miles east of Asheville in McDowell County and flows southeast through Burke County, forming borders along and between Caldwell, Catawba, Alexander, Iredell, Lincoln, Gaston, and Mecklenburg Counties before reaching Charlotte. From there, it continues into South Carolina, becomes the Wateree River, then joins with the Congaree to form the Santee River—emptying into the Atlantic Ocean just ten miles south of Georgetown.

Historically, the Catawba has sustained agriculture, powered industries, and supplied drinking water to millions. But that lifeline is fraying. Pollution from industrial runoff, agricultural discharge, and aging infrastructure has caused toxic algae blooms, fish kills, and unsafe water. Since 2020, Catawba County has seen a 20% increase in water quality violations, according to the North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality. Despite these warnings, the official response has been fragmented and slow. Communities are at risk—and they know it.


But this isn’t just an environmental story. It’s a systemic one.

The Catawba River crisis is emblematic of the broader struggles of the Foothills Corridor. In Commander Shell’s upcoming book, The Foothills Corridor: A Blueprint for Rural Reinvention, he documents how this 20-county region shifted from a thriving manufacturing hub to a fractured, under-resourced shadow of its former self.

From the 1950s through the 1980s, towns like Hickory, Gastonia, and Marion were built on furniture, textiles, and fiber optics. Families lived well on mill jobs. You didn’t need a college degree—you needed work ethic. But starting in the 1980s, globalization hit. Trade policies like NAFTA, passed in 1994, accelerated the outflow of jobs. Between 1990 and 2010, Hickory alone lost more than 40,000 manufacturing jobs. Entire towns saw their economic base collapse—followed by downtown closures, youth outmigration, and declining civic morale.

Commander Shell draws a direct line: the same neglect that gutted our economy is now threatening our environment. Trade deals left workers behind. Lax environmental policies leave entire communities vulnerable to water insecurity and health risks. And in both cases, it’s the ordinary people—the ones who stayed behind—who pay the price.


To further drive the point, the book compares the Foothills to the Rust Belt.

Chapter 2 dives into the shared pattern of collapse. Between 1990 and 2020, Rust Belt states like Michigan, Ohio, and Pennsylvania lost over 800,000 manufacturing jobs—a 32.65% drop. The Foothills lost 15,000, nearly 30%. In 2009, Shell’s articles for The Hickory Hound analyzed Milken Institute data. Hickory ranked 191 out of 200 metros. The unemployment rate was 15.4%—on par with Flint at 16.5% and Detroit at 14.9%. These numbers weren’t outliers—they were indicators of long-term economic and civic breakdown.


But collapse isn’t the end of the story.

Some Rust Belt cities fought back. Pittsburgh turned itself into a tech and healthcare powerhouse. They didn’t just mourn lost steel—they retrained workers, repurposed infrastructure, and reimagined their future. The Foothills can do the same.

The Catawba River could be our turning point.
Here’s how.


Step one: Regional coordination.

The river spans multiple counties—yet for decades, these counties have operated in silos, duplicating efforts and missing shared opportunities. Chapter 18, The 20-County Challenge, argues for regional dashboards and shared governance models. The Catawba crisis demands a task force—uniting county leaders, nonprofits, businesses, and residents. They can monitor water quality, secure funding, and crack down on polluters. This isn’t charity—it’s survival.


Step two: Tying restoration to new industries.

Chapter 16, The Renewable Energy Play, outlines how Duke Energy is already building solar farms across the Foothills. If we combine this with regenerative agriculture, buffer zones, and smart land use, we can reduce runoff and protect water sources. Microgrids and local energy cooperatives could give communities both power and purpose. Many local workers already have HVAC and electrical skills—let’s create jobs that can’t be offshored and use them to protect the river.


Step three: Involve the youth.

Chapter 17, Community Education and Youth Retention, says it plainly: the Foothills must give young people a reason to stay. The Catawba River can be that reason. CVCC and area high schools could launch river-centric programs—where students monitor water quality, develop filtration technology, and advocate for environmental justice. These programs wouldn’t just teach—they’d empower. And they’d help restore a connection between youth and place.


This moment—this crisis—is a wake-up call. But it’s also a chance.

In 2009, The Hickory Hound wrote about how Hickory ranked 61st out of 63 metros in creative job sectors. That lack of imagination nearly doomed us once. We can’t let it happen again.

Look at Asheville. They turned tourism into a cultural engine.
Look at Winston-Salem. They built an innovation district on tobacco ruins.
Why not us? Why not the river?


Commander Shell writes that the Foothills doesn’t need “gloss.” We need grit. Honest, hard-fought progress. This river can’t be saved with slogans. It takes unity. Strategy. Sweat. And storytelling.


So what can you do?

  • Contact your county commissioners.

  • Ask CVCC and high schools to support water-focused youth programs.

  • Share this podcast with your network.

  • Make your voice heard—in Raleigh, in meetings, and online.

The Foothills Corridor has the tools. We just need the will. The river crisis isn’t the end. It’s the beginning of a blueprint for reinvention—one county, one river, one future at a time.


That’s it for this episode of The Hickory Hound Podcast. If you want to go deeper, send us feedback and tell us what topics matter to you. Let’s build something real.

This is Rachel, signing off.

Y’all come back now. You hear?


 

Part 1 - Catawba River Crisis: Charlotte’s Water Demand and the 25-Year Strain on Catawba County

 
🔗 Full article & references available at: https://thehickoryhound.blogspot.com
📬 Feedback, tips, or comments? Email: hickoryhoundfeedback@gmail.com
💡 Narration powered by: Rachel A.I. (via ElevenLabs) Produced by: X.A.I., ChatGPT, and Commander Shell 
🛡️ Leadership & Direction:** Commander Shell, Shell Cooperative LLC 
 
#CatawbaRiver #FoothillsCorridor #HickoryNC #EnvironmentalCrisis #RuralReinvention #CharlotteIBT #WaterCrisis #RustBeltSouth #RegionalRevival #CommanderShell