There has not been a more exciting time to be in Macomb, Illinois.
You might think that sounds like a strange statement, especially if you’ve recently read the Wall Street Journal’s report on America’s so-called “busted” college towns. And maybe if you only drive through Macomb once, or pass by a few shuttered storefronts downtown, you might be tempted to agree.
But you’d be missing the real story, the deeper story, one that’s still unfolding.
To many of us who live here now, the bust isn’t a collapse. It’s an invitation. It’s a wide open door. It’s a canvas waiting for color.
Macomb, Illinois is a town shaped by tides; of change, of progress, of challenge. It’s nestled in the heart of the Midwest farming belt, surrounded by some of the richest soil on the planet. This land has fed nations and raised generations. It’s the kind of place where Abraham Lincoln once walked, where wartime factories thrived, and where, decades ago, a bustling college town blossomed around Western Illinois University.
For years, WIU served as a gateway for first-generation students, especially those from farming families across Illinois and brought together young minds from Chicago’s south and west sides. This unlikely blend gave Macomb a unique cultural and educational identity: rural grit met urban energy, and something truly special took root.
My own story traces back through these roots.
My parents met at WIU in the early 1980s. My mother was the daughter of hog farmers, a first-generation college student. My father’s family had moved to Macomb in 1962 when my grandfather began his career in agricultural engineering, designing energy efficient hog houses that focused on humane practices and economic efficacy, some of which are still in use today.
My parents were creatives. They fell in love in the art department, which for decades has been a gem within WIU, a place where rural students could access an arts education that rivaled any urban institution. It’s not just nostalgia when I say: Macomb nurtured early generations of creatives, and now the creatives are shaping the future of Macomb.
Like many small towns tied closely to a single institution, Macomb has felt the ripple effects of WIU’s declining enrollment over the past decade. Fewer students meant fewer faculty, fewer jobs, and less economic circulation. Local businesses closed. Optimism wavered.
Housing prices, already low by national standards, plummeted.
That drop in home prices? That’s the part I want to talk about.
In an America where the average home now costs over $400,000, Macomb is offering fully livable homes for under $50,000. This is not a typo. This is not a gimmick.
It’s a direct result of systemic underinvestment, a legacy of rural disinterest from policymakers, and the demographic shifts that have impacted all of middle America.
But what it means, for those with vision, is opportunity on a scale that is simply unheard of elsewhere.
That was my story. I came back to Macomb in early 2024, 20 years after I’d left. I didn’t know if it would feel like home again. But I knew I wanted to own one. I was ready to work for it, to renovate, to build something of my own. And Macomb was one of the few places in the country where that was still possible.
I found my home here. For $46,000. Sure, some saw it as risky. After all, the national narrative painted Macomb as a town in decline. But to those of us who chose to look closer, who took the time to walk the streets, meet the neighbors, peek behind the boarded windows, we didn’t see a dying town. We saw raw material. We saw a place waiting to be rebuilt, not in the image of its past, but in the spirit of something entirely new.
Months into my renovation project, I met Amanda Dean. We connected at “Crafternoon,” one of her creative community events hosted at the Western Illinois Museum. Her project, “No Place Like Macomb,” is all about connection, collaboration, and vision. She’s also the force behind the Macomb Arthouse Project, where neglected homes are becoming vibrant canvases, affordable living spaces, and third places for artists and thinkers.
Amanda and I hit it off immediately. It felt like meeting a co-conspirator. I was preparing to launch “Forever Forgottonia,” my own real estate and storytelling initiative to help others discover Macomb, see the possibilities, and invest in homes or commercial buildings here. We shared a sense that Macomb is on the cusp of something rare and powerful.
We often say to one another: “Macomb is the new Marfa.” If you know the story of Marfa, Texas, a forgotten desert town transformed into an international art destination, you understand the reference. But Macomb doesn’t need to be a replica of Marfa. It’s writing its own story. One rooted in the soil, in creative freedom, in affordability, and in a deeper kind of human connection.
Why is the housing so cheap? It is because the larger systems of capital haven’t yet fully recognized the value of what exists in Macomb. Policymakers often overlook towns like this, focusing on bigger cities or different priorities. National media points to enrollment charts and economic indicators without capturing the many stories of the people who remain, people who are building, creating, and investing in this place. And most of all, few have yet had the courage to bet on something that doesn’t already look shiny or polished.
But that is exactly what makes this place magic.
Macomb offers a way forward in a country where the American Dream has become a mirage for younger generations. Millennials and Gen Z creatives, visionaries, and builders. We are not asking for boom-time conditions. We are asking for space.
For possibility. For a crack in the system where something new can grow.
Macomb is that crack. And through it, something wild and beautiful is blooming.
The people who are coming here now: artists, educators, craftspeople, investors, digital nomads, are not coming for what Macomb has been. We’re coming for what it can be.
We’re living low-cost lives not because we want less, but because we want more of what matters: time, connection, community, autonomy, joy.
We spend time together in person; in our homes, in local gathering spaces, at community events. We show up for each other. We support one another’s creative endeavors, tour each other’s renovation projects, and brainstorm over coffee about what Macomb could become. We care deeply, and we’re building something real.
In Macomb, we’re not waiting for someone else to save the town.
We are saving it ourselves. The future is alive and well in Macomb.
