Life Along the Mississippi


©2013 Text & Photos by LeeZard
Thursday September 6 – Oglesby, Illinois-Keokuk, Iowa
Oglesby, IL is merely a one night stand, or sleepover. I’ve already passed through – and written about – The Land of Lincoln and I do not want to duplicate states unless there are compelling reasons to do so.
Driving away from Oglesby I enjoy about 40 miles of county and state roads before getting on bustling, high-speed U.S. 20 West. Economically, the area is still agricultural, mostly corn as usual. As we edge into September the corn is turning brown and many farmers are cutting the stalks almost to the ground, the remnant chips blowing like tan snow across the roads.
I am in the Illinois River Valley and this is a much different Illinois scenically than other parts of the state I’ve seen. The valley is thick with lush forests dotted only by the occasional farm, unlike the rest of Illinois where it is flat with cornfield after cornfield, interrupted by the occasional cornfield.
As the miles speed by, I’m suddenly struck by a thought, “Wow, I am actually on the last leg of this great journey.” The thought arouses mixed feelings. On the one hand, this is the trip of a lifetime, one that not many can experience in the manner I have. I’ve learned a lot about America and Americans and I’ve learned a bit about myself.
I love being on the road. I love visiting new places, meeting and talking to new people and soaking in the forever changing scenery of America. I love learning about the history of this great land, especially the local histories that did not make my mostly ignored school texts. The flip side is, I like showering every day and I like doing so without sharing my shower with thousands of dead bugs. I know I will like lying down every night in the same bed, a real bed. Life is a series of tradeoffs.
My realization that I am almost done brings another revelation. I started out with the idea that I will gather the stories of people and how The Great Recession affected their lives. I made a conscious decision to concentrate mostly on the smaller cities and towns, what I call The Real America. While I’ve accomplished that goal, I realize I’ve also collected the story of small-town America itself and, I don’t think it is a commonly known story. While I will elaborate in my final chapter, regardless of what we hear from Washington, D.C., there is no sweeping recovery. In many parts of The Real America, the recession is still all too real and very present.
On my eastbound drive, you may recall, I was forced to miss a “ceremonial” crossing and stopping at the Mississippi River. The Missouri Monsoon still sloshes around in my memory. Heading west I’ve chosen for my crossing the small city of Keokuk, Iowa. My preliminary research shows it to be a very interesting place indeed.
As I drive into Keokuk on U.S. 61/Main Street I am immediately struck by the large number of empty, closed down stores, many more than in any other place I’ve visited. What makes it more curious is the fact that Keokuk does not otherwise look like a city in its death throes. Note to self, find out the reason for this dichotomy.
In the meantime, Ron, who runs the Hickory Haven Campground where I will domicile for the next two nights, tells me that the Iowa (Mississippi) river towns depend much less upon farming than the rest of the state. Historically, their bread and butter was manufacturing. Sadly, that is truly history now; over the years – beginning before the recession – the companies either consolidated and/or simply moved the jobs, many of them overseas. The bitterness is still palpable.
But Keokuk retains one very large manufacturer, French multi-national Roquette America. According to Roquette’s Website, “It transforms renewable resources corn, wheat, potatoes and peas - into an extensive line of high quality ingredients for a wide range of food and non-food industries throughout the world.” Roquette is a major producer of starch and Sorbitol.
The company has offices, manufacturing plants and agents worldwide to the tune of €2.5 Billion in annual revenue. Depending upon which Website you visit, the company employs anywhere from 2,000-5,000 people at its huge plant in the Keokuk-Lee County area. The Website is mum on the subject. Bottom line, Roquette is key to Keokuk’s economic future.

Friday September 7 – Keokuk, Iowa
Keokuk began in 1820 as a trading post along the Mississippi River. The city is named for Keokuk (1767–1848), Chief of the Sauk Tribe and long time ally of the United States. In 1827 John Jacob Astor opened a branch of his American Fur Company here. It was the boyhood home of the late billionaire Howard Hughes. The town’s history, however, is really tied to The Civil War.
In addition to its participation in the Underground Railroad that helped runaway slaves to freedom in the North, Keokuk was also a key supply and debarkation point for Union Forces headed to the war’s southern battles. The Union set up hospitals here for the returning wounded and those hospitals remained after the war to become a key part of the area’s economy. There is a national cemetery in Keokuk with the remains of both Union and Confederate soldiers. 

I see more of the history as I drive along the river and see the classic antebellum mansions, many of them kept in pristine condition. Some of them are not; there are a few old and abandoned big house along the river as well.

One of its leading citizens hopes Keokuk’s history can be a big part of the city’s economic future. William “Bill” Logan is the fourth generation Chief Executive Officer of his family’s business, The State Central Bank. Sitting nearby is Bill’s son Tyler, the fifth generation and current bank president.
The bank’s magnificent five-floor 75-year old building is still one of the tallest in town. Logan’s commitment to Keokuk’s history is right there for all to see. Spanning one entire wall of the main banking area on the first floor are five intricate, colorful murals depicting Keokuk’s past, present and future.
Logan’s hope that history will help build Keokuk’s future is born from a steady population and subsequent business decline that began before the recent downturn. As I talk to Bill Logan about this, he explains the connection to the many empty stores along Main Street.
“Over the last 15 years our population went from 20,000 to where it’s now under 10,000,” he says. The U.S. Census shows the decline, while significant, is not as serious as Logan claims. In 1990 The Census showed a population of 12,491, a bit over 10,000 in 2010. Still, population decline translates to fewer customers, hence the empty stores lining Main Street.
Bill Logan says Keokuk came through the recession, in his words, the same as everyone else. “We had shorter workweeks, layoffs, people not taking haircuts. Maybe we got by a little better than most because at least some of the factories stayed in Keokuk.”
The greater threat to Keokuk’s economy over the last five years was a ten-month lockout at the Roquette Plant. Bill Logan says the town was even able to weather that. “They had strike benefits and they all got through okay.”
Clearly Bill Logan is reluctant to paint a dim picture of his town. But when pressed he reluctantly reveals that The Great Recession really did visit upon Keokuk. “Five factories either just closed or moved,” he reluctantly admits, “and that cost hundreds of jobs. We lost probably twenty downtown stores during the recession.”


Keokuk is shrinking but it isn’t dying thanks to the Roquette plant and another good-sized factory that makes steel casings. It is by no means a wealthy town. The median household income in 2011 was only $34,653, almost $15,000 below that of the entire state.
Perhaps most telling about Keokuk’s economic health are the unemployment and new home construction figures. Since 2009 unemployment has hovered around 10 percent. In 2008 there were 11 permits issued for new home construction. In the ensuing years a total of ten have been issued.
Once again the national news out of our nation’s capital is at odds with reality. While the politicos announced the recession as “official” at the end of 2007, it didn’t hit many small cities and towns until one-to-three years later and, as I discover again here in Keokuk, many small towns and cities in The Real America are still suffering.
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Sidebar: Damsel in Distress
I’m standing in line at the only Starbucks in Keokuk, located inside of Target. I see a young woman in her 20s wearing a black T-shirt with a bejeweled fist on the front displaying a raised middle finger. I love it!
“Is that your commentary on the world?” I ask.
Without a beat she replies. “It is today.” I love it!
A few moments later, as I’m walking to my car, I see the same young woman standing by an older white Camaro hardtop, shopping cart at her side. She is obviously upset as she fumbles through her large purse, apparently looking for her keys. Then, she looks through the driver’s side window and bursts into tears.
In my world, chivalry is not dead. I walk over. “Looks like your world just got worse,” I opine.”
“Sniff. Sniff. I locked my keys in the car and I can’t reach my husband.”
“I have some experience with this,” I tell her. After checking around the driver’s window to see if I can move it, I go back to the Jeep and return with everyman’s tool for locked-in car keys, the handy dandy wire hanger.
After further assessing the situation I’m thinking it should be a snap; I’ve done it so many times for myself. Carefully pushing the window inward to create enough space, I bend the now unwound hangar, bent sharply at the end to grab the lock button and start feeding it through the small opening.
With rising confidence and the satisfied feeling of a Good Samaritan I easily position the hangar’s end right where I want it and snap it back to pull the lock upward. The hangar slips away, the lock unopened. No problem; in all the years I’ve done this, I’ve never succeeded on the first try. Thirty minutes later, I’m still trying and in the 90-degree heat I am sweating profusely. The young woman, still leaking an occasional tear, patiently stands by holding Trooper on his leash (can’t leave my buddy in the sweltering Jeep).
By now I realize I need some help; I can’t maintain pressure on the window with one hand and, with the other get enough torque on the hanger to pop the button. I see a young man exit his car a few slots down and start walking for the store. “Hey,” I yell. “Have ya ever boosted a car?”
I am only half serious but the dude smiles and says, “Sure. Be right there.”
He goes back to his car and returns with a screwdriver, which he promptly inserts and angles at the top of the window giving me a lot more room and two hands with which to work.
After several more futile – but closer – tries, I notice the woman is starting to cry again. “Hmmm,” I say to myself. “Maybe I should try to take her mind off things.”
Looking over I see a small firm tummy bulge just above her belt and immediately blunder into the land no man should ever enter. But, the bulge is so firm I’m almost convinced. “Looks like you’re expecting,” I say.
Without hesitating, she answers, “Nope.”
DOH!!! I immediately return to my task.
Luckily, at that very moment, the hangar’s hook catches on the lock and this time it pops open. Thank Gawd!!!
Not knowing how to respond to her profuse thanks – I am still embarrassed – I immediately withdraw.
Hey, at least I took her mind off things.















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