What is good for the goose, they say, is good for the gander.
Unfortunately, some folks seem to think that it works in reverse, too, especially when those geese are actually Yoopers, and the gander is the Upper Peninsula as a whole. The bad for our gander? The doomsday scenario of our population drop as recently noted by the Census Bureau.
I have to admit that I was more than a bit surprised to come across the title of a recent story by the
Associated Press which ran in the
Detroit News: "Michigan's Upper Peninsula struggles to survive."
I sat back, flabbergasted. Really? The entire U.P.?
Without a moment's hesitation, I darted to the window, expecting to see a stream of rusty Chevrolets and beat-up Subarus heading steadily south of here.
Instead, I saw a few cars at the gas station. About 20 were parked at the ride share lot. Everyone, shockingly, was going about their business like it was a normal day.
They, obviously, hadn't read this headline. It could be because the
Detroit News isn't really available around here. Or maybe because the
Detroit News so rarely writes about the Upper Peninsula that no one would expect to read a headline decrying our imminent danger.
With a bit of confusion, I returned to my computer and continued to read.
The article, by John Flesher (who is normally my
AP reporter of choice and is based out of Traverse City), leads off with the story of the apparently deserted town of Ontonagon. The tale of woe describes empty storefronts and two children playing under the watch of their father on an empty playground.
It quickly paints a picture of a desolate area, ravaged by the economic disasters of having a copper mine, a shipyard and, most recently, a paper mill pull up stakes and leave. The debris left behind was that of unemployment and, as the article stated, "Ontonagon County's dubious distinction of having Michigan's highest countywide attrition rate over the past 10 years, when its population dropped 13.3 percent to 6,780 -- a stark illustration of troubled times in the isolated Upper Peninsula."
The article goes on to say that when the Census Bureau reported that Michigan had a population drop-off between 2000 and 2010, attention focused on Detroit. The Upper Peninsula, however, lost 2 percent of its residents.
"… the numbers bring gloomy tidings for the U.P., a sprawling tapestry of forests, waterways and small towns that accounts for nearly one-third of Michigan's land area but only 3 percent of its population. Twelve of the peninsula's 15 counties declined over the decade, according to the census. Growth was confined to Houghton and Marquette counties, which have universities, and Baraga County, home to a maximum-security prison."
So, by my understanding, the only reason Houghton and Marquette saw growth was because of their universities, Michigan Tech and Northern Michigan, respectively. And Baraga County, of course, grew because of its prisoner numbers.
Houghton County's numbers are, yes, almost exactly a mirror to the increased enrollment of Michigan Tech (612 more residents that come from 621 more students). Marquette County's numbers aren't even close. In that time frame, NMU increased its enrollment by 831. The county, however, saw an increase of 2,448. Ontonagon County, on the other hand, lost 1,038.
I may be totally wrong here, and maybe the Associated Press just has a better calculator than I do, but doesn't that mean that more people (not students, apparently) moved into Marquette County than left Ontonagon County?
The AP article goes on to say that other factors play into the undoing of the Upper Peninsula as well. You see, apparently the young people are leaving for "better job opportunities and a warmer climate." They make this sweeping generalization because the median age up here was 48.6 years in 2010 when the Census took its numbers. That's higher than the statewide average of 38.9. The article itself declares that the U.P.'s median age is currently nearly 12 percent higher than 2000--which would have made it right around 42.8 years then. So, over 10 years, the average age has increased by less than 10 years? And that's bad? I know a few ladies that would take that deal in a heartbeat.
Let's point out that Wayne County, home of Detroit, had a population of just over 2 million in 2000. A decade later, the population was 1.8 million, equaling a loss of approximately 240,000--or 77 percent of the entire Upper Peninsula's current population. Now that seems like a big number, doesn't it? And we're the struggling ones?
The biggest problem with the article, and its generalization, is that it continually focuses on Ontonagon. Unfortunately, struggles are a reality for that part of the peninsula. Tough times have led many people to pull up roots and head out of the area. It's only a hop, skip and a jump from there, Menominee County and Iron County--three of the biggest population drops in the U.P.'s Census numbers--to get to Wisconsin, which saw a 6 percent increase over the past decade.
The truth is that there are tough times everywhere, but take a look around and you'll see Yoopers (a term which every AP article seems to manage to say with disdain) that are making it work. Take a look at this week's edition and you'll see Brickside Brewery is planning on opening in the Copper Country, while Bell Hospital is hiring. How about Rock River Café, which opened in Chatham? Or in recent editions where Be Unique opened in Iron Mountain, or Pike Distributors expanded its operations and Trail Creek Motors added staff and is expecting to add even more in the coming months?
The Upper Peninsula's population only increased 1.2 percent from 1990 to 2000. It dropped 2 percent from 2000 to 2010. It doesn't sound like the Upper Peninsula is dying at all, but rather remaining strong as it has since the first settlement was established at Sault Ste. Marie.
The Upper Peninsula is alive and well, thriving in its own way as it embraces resident and visitor alike. Opportunities abound if you're willing to chase them.
We may not be getting rich here in the good ol' U.P., but we have life, liberty and we're surrounded by a place that makes us happy. That's the point after all. Isn't it?
So, the A
ssociated Press (and the amazing number of papers that ran the story) can shout doom and gloom for us all they want, but that doesn't make it so. We know the truth. Struggles? No more than usual. Happiness? You bet. We'll take that equation any day.
Sam Eggleston is the managing editor of the U.P. Second Wave and a full-time freelance writer. He was born and raised in the Upper Peninsula. He left the state to live in Alaska and moved back and to Metro Detroit. Oddly enough, he discovered a cooler climate and less people was more his style. Eggleston can be reached via email.Like what you're seeing on U.P. Second Wave? Drop us a line and let us know what you think. We're open to comments, criticism, ideas, questions and everything in between. You can reach us via
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