Dispatches from the Empire


Family Dollar to close almost 1,000 stores

The parent company of Family Dollar said it would close approximately 1,000 stores, citing market conditions, store performance and other factors.

Dollar Tree, which has owned Family Dollar since 2015, said Wednesday that 600 Family Dollar stores would close in the first half of 2024, with another 370 locations closing over the next several years.

The husks of these stores will become a new hallmark of rural America.

Indiana Nature Notes

Farther down beach, sand gave way to thick slabs of gray clay, slippery. Whole veins of it where waves took away sand covering. Geologists say last glacier pushed in clay (and gravel and dirt), creating Valparaiso Moraine: kind of ridge here at southern edge of lake. Glacier = bulldozer, bulldozing moraine, which then acts as dam or divide. North, the great lake; south, water drains into Kankakee floodplain. M. and I stand at ancient, slippery edge.

Conservationists See Rare Nature Sanctuaries. Black Farmers See a Legacy Bought Out From Under Them.

The loss of Black-owned land in this community exposes a cruel irony. Pembroke has been one of the few places Black landowners could gain a foothold in Illinois, in part because this land was passed over by white settlers who presumed its sandy soils were worthless. And now, after generations without large-scale development or landscape-destroying corporate farming, this land has become sought after by outside conservationists because Pembroke’s savannas remain largely untouched.

Another story of black land being “taken” (through entirely legal means), but this one has a unique backstory:

No one knows how Joseph “Pap” Tetter escaped the horrors of slavery in North Carolina, only that he, his wife, children and extended family arrived in what would become Pembroke Township in a wagon one day around 1861.

Tetter homesteaded 42 acres of land, which he parceled out and sold to fellow settlers. Proceeds went to help liberate more enslaved people via the underground railroad, according to oral histories.

Unlike the black, spongy soil that made Illinois an agricultural powerhouse, Pembroke’s sandy soil — widely considered some of the poorest in the state — didn’t retain moisture that would allow commodity crops like corn to thrive. But the land offered a fresh start for people who had been owned as property and forced to farm under threat of violence. Through trial and error, they found what could survive the sandy soil, growing specialty crops like okra, collards, peas and watermelons.

I grew up just a few miles from here. I had never heard of Pembroke or Hopkins Park until last week. Never a mention at school, never a mention at home. This week, I messaged some friends from my hometown and none of them had heard of Pembroke, though one responded, “my mom says ‘he’s not traveling there is he?’”

I’m fast approaching forty and I’ve long thought certain things could no longer surprise me, my hometown being high on that list. But here is a township founded by a man who escaped slavery not 30 miles from where I grew up. There are no historical markers, no mentions of it on the Illinois Historical Society website, nothing.

In 2023, that is shameful.

A town founded by an escaped slave became a terminal on the Underground Railroad…thirty miles from my hometown. One of the poorest communities in the United States, a town that was once the largest community of black farmers north of the Mason-Dixon Line…is thirty miles from my hometown.

If anything, I’m embarrassed that I too have fallen into the trap of thinking 1) that area has no surprises left, and 2) that the racial history of the United States isn’t this alive and well.

But I’m suddenly filled with pride knowing that I grew up just a few miles from a town founded by a man who escaped slavery with his family, a town founded as a haven for people escaping some of the worst cruelty imaginable. That history should be known, and it’s a damn shame it isn’t.