Chicago is one of President Donald Trump’s favorite urban punching bags — we have too many dangerous migrants, violent criminals, greedy tax eaters and corrupt Democrats, he proclaims loudly. But that didn’t stop him from promoting his brand by plastering his last name in big bold capital letters on a visible side of a downtown high-rise.
And it turns out Chicago may also be lucky enough to benefit, inadvertently I’m sure, from one of his executive orders — the one compelling most federal employees who continue to work remotely long after the subsiding of the pandemic to return to their offices in the next few weeks.
That means thousands of those workers who don’t retire or take buyouts — if those Trump offers survive legal or congressional challenges — could be be refilling the Dirksen, Metcalfe, Kluczynski and other federal buildings in the Loop, potentially reinvigorating what has become the Midwest version of a post-gold rush ghost town.
Here’s the back story.
The exodus of businesses along the previously bustling South State Street, between Madison Street and Ida B. Wells Drive, occurred gradually during and after the paralyzing pandemic and was exacerbated by fallout from destructive civil unrest in the Loop following the police murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis.
Beef and Brandy, a popular food and drink establishment, went dark; then DSW, the discount shoe store; another CVS drugstore; and the beat went on, one storefront after another emptying.
My wife and I, owners of a condo on Monroe Street east of Wabash Avenue, watched with a sad and resigned understanding of the driving economic and social dynamics at play here: thousands of people who previously filled nearby offices and higher education campuses working and studying remotely and an untold number of wary tourists and visitors avoiding downtown.
Too few people eating, drinking and shopping to support bars, restaurants and businesses that can’t survive without patrons.
The hollowing out of State Street deprived the city of desperately needed tax dollars and painted a graphic picture of a city in decline.
It reminded me of some of the once-thriving East Coast college towns I visited with our oldest daughter in the late 1990s after they’d been decimated by the departure of major businesses and industries that fled to Southern states and countries to escape high taxes and labor costs.
But now, in our Chicago neighborhood, there’s a bright light at the end of this dark tunnel.
An estimated 17,000 federal jobs are in the city, most of them concentrated in the South Loop, and if most of those employees decide to keep their positions and head back into their offices, the result could be transformative: a renewed demand for breakfast, coffee, lunch, dinner, cocktails and sundries in retail establishments that could refill the vacant storefronts with new merchants.
And perhaps there would be a new wave of evening activities fueled by a promising civic initiative to revitalize downtown with an infusion of art, culture and entertainment.
In addition to federal workers, thousands of college students, faculty and support staff members who fill half a dozen Loop campuses would have an incentive to fully enjoy the area instead of hunkering down in their academic enclaves and heading home before dark.
Properly policed, the Loop could once again attract tourists, visitors and local residents.
This soon-to-be unfolding development has the potential to give our struggling downtown a huge economic lift and an equally valuable and much-needed collateral benefit: a big morale boost for the entire city.
And if, as I fervently hope, the Loop revitalization comes to pass, it will also provide a beleaguered City Hall with bragging rights and an opportunity to send a thank-you note in big bold capital letters to a sworn political and civic adversary: Trump.
That would be a delicious irony — the ultimate cherry atop the revitalization cake.
Andy Shaw is a semiretired journalist and good government watchdog who splits his time between Chicago and southwest Michigan.
Submit a letter, of no more than 400 words, to the editor here or email letters@chicagotribune.com.