President Obama on stage tonight

How much has changed for the small town he called out in 2004?

Twenty years ago Barack Obama catapulted into prominence at the Democratic National Convention talking about workers in a small town who lost their manufacturing jobs. My town. Galesburg, Illinois. 

Motivated by his words that night, I went on to work for a grueling Presidential campaign. I drove more than 30,000 miles across Iowa setting up events for then-Sen. Obama, on to the White House, and around the world for eight years, traveling to almost every state and 42 countries as Director of Press Advance.

Two decades later, as President Obama returns to address the DNC, much has changed culturally and politically in Galesburg but one thing hasn’t: Those manufacturing jobs we lost haven’t returned.  

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Welcome to my Substack — I’m Johanna Maska. 

My goal with this platform is to drive a deeper conversation about American politics. There’s plenty of scorekeeping, poll watching, who is up, who is down analysis as we push toward November. I’ll be following along — but I am also interested in going deeper. Finding out what is triggering our nation’s polarization, what can draw us together, and focusing on what happens next. Where does all of this partisan energy go? How do we drive progress in the greatest country on earth? 

I’ll look at the run up to the election, and beyond, from this perspective. I will mix my own analysis, conversations, deep dive storytelling — and some irreverence — bringing 20+ years of campaign, communications and political experience to the table.

This week, I’m focused on Galesburg. 

Candidate Obama brought it attention, but one reason it is important is that it is a microcosm of changes in our country. It’s a town where many people proudly voted for Barack Obama — and then cast a ballot for Donald Trump. 

The town faces industrial disruption, political polarization and shrinking local media. Galesburg is one town, but as one of my former classmates told me, “there are thousands of Galesburgs across the U.S.”

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The Galesburg I remember is the one of Galesburg High School Graduating Class of 2000. 

In this manufacturing town of 30,000 in central Illinois — a once grand railroad town — Maytag was the big employer. There were other employers, and farm kids would spend summers detasseling — after all our high school was next to a corn field.

In Galesburg, if you were my age, it didn’t matter who you were, you were bound for that school next to that corn field. Rich kids, poor kids, black kids, white kids: We shared the same teachers, textbooks, high school experiences. 

With one of the highest teen pregnancy rates in the state, we had a daycare in our high school, trying to give every option to stay in school. Daycare wasn’t enough, though. Our dropout rate was high. We entered the high school with a class of about 500. We graduated with about 350. 

Those of us in the class of 2000 celebrated our senior year’s new year’s with a fear that Y2K would kill the computers that we had only just begun to know. What we didn’t know: A few short years later Maytag would close its manufacturing plant, leaving many of our friends and our friends’ parents without the jobs that they had known. 

I had just finished my senior year at the University of Kansas when Obama spoke at the DNC in 2004. “We have … more (work) to do for the workers I met in Galesburg, Illinois, who are losing their union jobs at the Maytag plant that's moving to Mexico, and now are having to compete with their own children for jobs that pay seven bucks an hour,” he said. 

We were those children he talked about. 

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Back in 2004, if I wanted to check in on Galesburg and get more than my parents’ reports, the trusted voice was The Galesburg Register Mail. Reporters for the paper covered everything from our sports scene to changing businesses, local government, successes and arrests. The newsroom — where I once interned — bustled. The Register Mail employed photographers, writers, editors, and a sales department.  

Also back in 2004, we were just learning of the new invention — The Facebook. As soon as access moved off the coasts, most of us joined Facebook, and got to keep up with how life was going for each other. 

It was Facebook I used to reach out to my classmates now in 2024 to learn how much has changed.  

“Galesburg is not the same Galesburg we grew up with,” Pamella Bess-Tabb, class of 2000 and a licensed clinical social worker, tells me.

Bess-Tabb now serves on the Galesburg School Board. 

“When we grew up we were definitely a manufacturing town. There was Maytag, there was Butler,” she said. “One of the things we’re struggling with now since those manufacturing places have left is poverty in this area which is really huge that’s hitting the school systems.” 

One of the last reports Bess-Tabb read noted the average income for a family of two in Galesburg is $40,000 a year. 

“If you take a look back there were people making $40,000 a year, singly, just working at Maytag,” Bess-Tabb says. 

In the immediate aftermath of the manufacturing loss, leaders knew it would hit hard. 

Kelli Wessels, class of 2000 who now manages a local Walgreens, said right after the Maytag closure the thing she noticed most was an investment in Carl Sandburg Community College. 

“There was a real focus on education. Programs from welding and cosmetology,” Wessels said.

Another classmate noticed the same shift. 

“Our local community has shifted its focus from big business to small business and have done a pretty dang good job,” says C.C. Wilcox, who like us graduated in the class of 2000.  

Wessels echoes that entrepreneurs have really led local community development.  She notes that Galesburg still has the Orpheum Theater, a Discovery Depot children’s center, and an arts center. 

But Wilcox struggles to see what national politics has brought Galesburg. 

The biggest thing, he says and others agree with, is that Don Moffitt, a local Republican, fought hard to get Galesburg two overpasses and one underpass.  With the railroad such a big part of Galesburg life, being able to move while trains passed was a game changer. 

Also — “Keeping BNSF here,” Wilcox says of the large railroad employer, “That would kill us if we lost BNSF.” 

Bess-Tabb notes that the increase in minimum wage in the state has helped somewhat.

President Obama had talked about competing for $7 an hour jobs.  Minimum wage is now $14 an hour.  But she also notes those jobs don’t compare with high-paying manufacturing jobs Galesburg had. 

For Wilcox, he worries Galesburg small businesses are struggling with these rising costs. Wilcox, an entrepreneur, sells commercial insurance, manages rental properties and bought back the iconic Cherry Street Brewing Company his family used to own.  With Illinois' legislature increasing employment benefits at the same time he sees rising food costs, he's looking at again having to cut a personal check to the restaurant to keep it afloat.  

"People don't realize the costs are just pushed back to them," he says. 

Almost all agree the employers of today are far different than they were in 2004.  BNSF Railway remains, OSF Healthcare, the school district, Blick Art Supplies, Knox College all contribute. 

The town’s health options have changed: Galesburg used to have 2 hospitals. But, during the midst of a global pandemic, my mom called me to tell me Cottage Hospital closed abruptly.  Without much news attention the hospital went bankrupt.   

There are some shining signs in Galesburg: The town built a brand new state of the art library.  And in a sweet move, kids lined up from the old library to the new library and passed the books from one to the next.  

But that cooperation isn’t always modeled. 

The national politics debates have infected local city council meetings, C.C. Wilcox notes.  And not in a good way.  There’s shouting, disrespect for neighbors. 

“I feel like there’s no talking things out, there’s not much you can do,” Wilcox says.

“Remember when politics used to be a personal thing?” Wessels asked me. “That is not the case anymore. People don’t care who they offend with their politics anymore.  There’s also no wiggle room.  They used to have a sliding scale and vote one way or another.  But now there’s no convincing someone of anyone else.”

Gone is the healthy debate.  But there are issues that people - of all political persuasions - want to solve. 

Both Wilcox and Bess-Tabb mentioned the high rate of homelessness.  Our class of 2000 was raised in the shadow of Ronald Reagan, with cuts to social services.  

We all remember Tony who directed traffic, sleeping on the streets and in dumpsters.  He fought for our country and needed help, Bess-Tabb tells me.   

“It’s worse now,” Bess-Tabb says. 

***

There’s a lot of talk about saving our country, our democracy, this election cycle.   

Just last night at the Democratic National Convention President Biden said: "We saved democracy in 2020 and now we have to save it again in 2024." 

Meanwhile President Trump told a Michigan rally he took a bullet for democracy. 

But is democracy saved? Regardless of who wins? 

Fundamentally democracy requires a well-informed citizenry and healthy debates. Are we having those? 

The Galesburg Register Mail closed its doors in Galesburg.  “Local” reporting comes from a neighboring town, Peoria.  The once bright newsroom now houses an antiques store. 

I will be listening to President Obama tonight with the hindsight and understanding that solving these problems are complex.  What will he say? Knowing the reflective leader I worked with, I’ve got to believe he knows there’s still more work to do for those workers in Galesburg, IL. 

But one thing’s clear: Polarization, which Obama talked about so eloquently and inspiringly in his speech in 2004, feels more pronounced, even when we agree. 

That division, perhaps driven by an insatiable appetite for clicks, has made such progress even harder.