Gary, Indiana, once a symbol of American industrial might, stands today as a stark example of urban decay and abandonment. Located just 40 miles from the bustling metropolis of Chicago, Gary feels like a world apart, a place isolated not by distance but by economic collapse and social challenges. The question, “why is Gary, Indiana abandoned?” is not a simple one to answer. It’s a complex story woven from threads of deindustrialization, automation, racial segregation, and the nationwide shift in economic landscapes.
To understand why parts of Gary are now characterized by overgrown streets, empty lots, and broken buildings, it’s crucial to delve into the city’s history and the factors that led to its dramatic decline. Gary was literally built around the steel industry. Founded in 1906 by the United States Steel Corporation, the city was a planned community designed to house and serve the workers of the newly established Gary Works steel mill. For decades, Gary thrived. Jobs were plentiful, and the city boasted a diverse population drawn by the promise of stable employment and the American dream.
The fortunes of Gary began to change dramatically in the latter half of the 20th century. The decline of American manufacturing, driven by globalization and increased automation, hit Gary particularly hard. As George Young, an 88-year-old Gary resident who moved to the city for steel jobs in 1951, explains, “Trump can’t bring jobs back because the jobs are gone to automation.” He recalls how automation drastically reduced the workforce needed in the steel mills, replacing human labor with machines. “We used to have 10 men doing cleanup in my job. Now one man operates a machine. We used to have 10 men running the furnaces. Now robots run them.” This sentiment is echoed by Alphonso Washington, 72, a former crane man in the steel mills, who notes, “The factories mostly run themselves now. They have robot cranes, so they don’t need crane men like me. It is because of that word. What is it? Automation?”
The loss of manufacturing jobs was a major blow to Gary’s economy. As the primary employer dwindled its workforce, residents began to leave in search of opportunities elsewhere. This economic downturn was further exacerbated by another critical factor: racial segregation and white flight. Maria Garcia, a 74-year-old resident who moved to Gary in 1961, bluntly states, “Racism killed Gary. The whites left Gary, and the blacks couldn’t. Simple as that. Print that because it is true.” Her perspective is supported by Walter Bell, 78, a lifelong Gary resident and steel mill worker. He recounts how segregation limited opportunities for Black residents. “Segregation did this to Gary. When the jobs left, the whites could move, and they did. But we blacks didn’t have a choice. They wouldn’t let us into their new neighborhoods with the good jobs, or if they let us, we sure as hell couldn’t afford it. Then to make it worse, when we looked at the nice houses they left behind, we couldn’t buy them because the banks wouldn’t lend us money.”
As white residents moved to suburbs and other areas with perceived better opportunities, Gary’s tax base eroded, further impacting the city’s ability to provide services and maintain infrastructure. This created a vicious cycle of decline. Businesses closed, houses were abandoned, and the city struggled to cope with rising poverty and crime rates. While Gary has been stigmatized as a city of crime and drugs, the reality on the ground is more nuanced. As a DEA agent, who grew up in Gary, notes, “We used to be the murder capital of the US, but there is hardly anybody left to kill. We used to be the drug capital of the US, but for that you need money, and there aren’t jobs or things to steal here.” The outward signs of these issues are not always overtly visible, but the pervasive sense of emptiness and decay speaks volumes about the city’s struggles.
Despite the visible abandonment and challenges, Gary is not entirely devoid of life or hope. Many residents, deeply rooted in their community and families, choose to stay and navigate the difficulties. La Jazanay Turner, a 20-year-old community college student and Gary native, exemplifies this complex attachment. “This is my hometown, I love it, I just wish it was better… Family is too important to me.” Similarly, Imani Powell, 23, who returned to Gary after briefly attending college out of state, emphasizes the importance of family ties. “My mother and sister and I are close. I missed them. We have been through a lot together.” However, Imani also voices a concern shared by many, “It scares me to walk by [abandoned buildings]; I don’t want to end up a body lost in one of them. It is complicated for people who live in Gary. They don’t want to move because this is what they are used to. Do you want to go and do your own thing, or be with your family? They say places are what you make of them, but is hard to make something beautiful when it is shit.”
In conclusion, the abandonment of Gary, Indiana, is a multifaceted issue stemming from the intertwined forces of economic restructuring and social inequality. The decline of the steel industry and the rise of automation decimated the city’s job market, while deeply entrenched racism fueled white flight and disinvestment. The result is a city grappling with the physical scars of abandonment, yet still inhabited by resilient individuals who call Gary home. Understanding the story of Gary offers a sobering look at the broader challenges facing many deindustrialized cities across America and the enduring impact of economic and social shifts on communities and their residents.
