There is a state of mind where Missouri, Iowa and Illinois meet
By Steve Fairchild, editor

What does it take to make a community stare into its soul and face the future with singular determination rather than the usual piecemeal and erratic development? For scores of towns along the Mississippi River it was the Flood of 1993.

When the brown waters of trouble came back then, communities in the counties where Missouri, Illinois and Iowa meet discovered they needed each other. Maybe before that hungry Mississippi erased every river crossing for more than 180 miles, civic leaders could stand alone and for the status quo. But when the levees failed, things changed. Nature built a boundary where none had been. Workers couldn’t cross. Rail service stopped. Commerce was stultified. And when finally the waters drew back, there were leagues of rancid mud, hollowed businesses and economic upheaval.

From that epic flood, a spirit of interdependence was born. The only way forward was to forget political boundaries and for civic leaders to stand with like-minded and like-situated communities.

That’s how the Tri-State Development Summit came to be. It started with a few people who understood that geography rather than political boundaries would fuel the region’s rebound. In 1996, they joined to launch the summit at Culver-Stockton College in Canton, Mo. They expected about 100 people. They got 225. This year, attendance exceeded 400.

Yet, the Flood of 1993 is history. Levees are rebuilt and most of the workforce probably doesn’t think about crossing a bridge to get to work. Then why does the summit still draw more than 400 people—including top politicians? It’s a thing the organizers call the State of Mind, and the capital letters are intentional—the region as an entity.

Again, it’s the geography that matters. The summit covers 35 counties in Iowa, Illinois and Missouri, and these counties have more in common with each other than they do with most counties in their home states.

Don’t worry, there isn’t much chance of secession. The State of Mind is happy to exist as a cooperative, regional construct. But it does wield power. Consider that, through the summit, these 35 counties can speak as one. In a sense, the State of Mind has five U.S. Representatives. There are 20 states in the union that have four representatives or fewer. And the State of Mind has six U.S. Senators, more than any one state.

The political power these counties muster brings results. With a regional focus, summit leaders have steered funding for infrastructure. Roads, rail and river—those traditional roots of commerce—have been a priority. But tourism, higher education and spurring entrepreneurialism also have been addressed. Often times it’s good old political clout that’s needed to pry loose this funding.

But I’ve dwelt too much on politics. The real power of the Tri-State Development Summit isn’t wrought from any particular state’s capital. It is brought forth from a passion for community—an unfaltering belief that rural communities must not just survive but that they must prosper.

One 2007 summit participant said rural communities do a good job with education but don’t provide opportunities for a community’s youth as they join the workforce. He said that rural America’s No. 1 export isn’t farm products or manufactured goods. It’s youth. Yet thanks to the Tri-State Development Summit, the youth of the region might not need to leave. They might have a future in staying home in the State of Mind.

Want to know more? Visit www.tristateofmind.org. 

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