A Migration from Chicago to Bull Shoals—Some Demographic Observations

Abstract

I do not know how the demographers do it, but I classify migration in American into three major eras. The first coincided roughly with the nineteenth century when, for whatever the reasons-to get cheap land, for adventure, or maybe just to get away from a nagging wife or the in-laws back home-many people migrated westward and settled the continent. The second began approximately with the end of World War I, when farmers were just beginning to get tractored off the land, jobs in the cities were opening up as industrialization got well under way, and, after sampling the highjinks of the cities, the returning soldiers did not want to go back to the farm. The third, as Beale has documented, is just getting under way, but this time the oldsters are in the vanguard. Armed with pension checks and plenty of time on their hands, they are setting out for distant places for a variety of reasons-to find the sun, for fun, or maybe just to try to make a new life for themselves and avoid having to babysit with the grandchildren. I am one of these, and what follows is by way of a report from the new frontier. Bull Shoals is a little town of about 1,000 people in northern Arkansas, located near the dam on the White River that forms Bull Shoals Lake. It is nationally famous for its bass and trout fishing, but if you knew this already, it means you are neglecting your work and fishing too much. Most of the people migrating to Bull Shoals are oldsters from up North. But quite a number of younger people are also coming and bringing their needed skills-plumbers, shop keepers, even professional people. Almost without exception, the immigrants in both these age groups are glad they came, and so are most of the natives who were already here. There is also a discernible third group, much smaller, and comprised mainly of younger people who are seeking a simpler life-style. They do farming of a sort, grow and eat organic foods, do art and handicrafts, worry about the ecology, and sometimes let their hair grow long and tie it up with ribbons. Needless to say, they are regarded with some suspicion by the natives and their status in the community is not unlike that of the hillbillies in Chicago when they started migrating there a generation or so ago. Development theory teaches that one should begin with the infrastructure. The infrastructure of Bull Shoals consists of the mayor and his council, a post office, oneand-a-half policemen, a volunteer fire department, and a hospital. The next thing to add to he infrastructure is a sewer system, so we can stop polluting ourselves and our beautiful lake. Across the dam and up the road a quarter mile is another little town, Lakeview. It is an exact replica of Bull Shoals, with an identical infrastructure; it is also trying to get a sewer. To a casual observer, it would make sense to merge these two little towns and combine their infrastructures, thereby saving the taxpayers a little money and giving them better service. But woe to the local politician-or the rural development expert from Arkansas State University-who would come into either town and propose that! Bull Shoals and Lakeview are not unique in this; there are literally hundreds and probably thousands of local county and town infrastructures in rural America that, if efficiency were the only criterion, ought to be consolidated but almost surely will not be. Community planning in Bull Shoals is, of course, in the hands of the local tradesmen and real estate brokers, who in turn are guided by the unseen hand of Adam Smith. Since more people mean more business, the community is highly growth oriented. Some oldsters would like to see less growth or even no growth at all, but we have not had much to say about it. Brave words are being spoken these days A. C. Hoffman is a former vice-president of the Krafts Food Company, Chicago.