Walmart operates more than 5,200 stores across the country, and 90% of Americans live within 10 miles of a Walmart or Sam’s Club, the company estimates.
In this story, this figure is cited regarding the rollout of electronic vehicle chargers. The implication is that many potential drivers could then access Walmart’s network.
Part of the Walmart percentage could be the sheer number of stores and it could also be about corporate decisions about where to locate. The company grew from its first store in Rogers, Arkansas to being in many communities across the United States. Do all retailers go for the same sort of locations as Walmart?
It would be interesting to compare to other kinds of business. Take fast food chains that have thousands of locations; would 90% of Americans live within 10 miles of a McDonald’s or a Domino’s? Or what about distances from dollar stores? (Or were once within 10 miles of a Blockbusters?)
Or we could consider other important places. How many Americans live within 10 miles of a park? A school? A police or fire department?
In reading multiple obituaries upon the passing of Dr. James Dobson, I was interested to read about where he lived and where his ministry operated. In my book Sanctifying Suburbia, I examine how evangelicals embraced the suburbs, and I discussed in Chapter 6 two of the evangelical centers where Dobson spent much of his adult life: the suburbs east of Los Angeles and Colorado Springs, Colorado. But his suburban experiences also predated the professional career for which he became know. Here is what the New York Times reported:
James Clayton Dobson Jr. was born in Shreveport, La., on April 21, 1936, the only child of James and Myrtle (Dillingham) Dobson.
He was the son, grandson and great-grandson of Church of the Nazarene ministers. The family avoided dancing and movies. His father, who never attended college, was a traveling evangelist, primarily in the Southwest, and young James lived mostly with his mother in Bethany, Okla., and graduated from San Benito High School, in San Benito, Texas, in 1954.
He received a bachelor’s degree in psychology in 1958 from Pasadena College (now Point Loma Nazarene University) and a master’s degree in 1962 from the University of Southern California.
In 1960, he married his college sweetheart, Shirley Deere. She survives him, as do his son; a daughter, Danae Dobson; and two grandchildren.
After four years as a teacher and counselor at high schools in Hacienda Heights and Covina, Calif., he earned a doctorate in child development in 1967 from U.S.C. He was then on the faculty of the Keck School of Medicine for 14 years and simultaneously on the staff of Children’s Hospital.
Looking more closely at these early locations shows some connections to suburbs. Shreveport is a small big city with over 76,000 residents in 1930. Bethany is a suburb west of Oklahoma City created by Nazarene founders that grew from 485 residents in 1920 to 22,694 residents in 1970. San Benito is a small community within the Browsnville-Harlingen-Raymondville combined statistical area today that is not far from the Mexico border. It had between roughly between 13,000 and 16,000 residents in the 1950s while Brownsville at that point had between 35,000 and 48,000 residents.
Dobson went to college at Pasadena College. This college started as Pacific Bible College in Los Angeles. In 1909 it moved to purchased land in Pasadena, a suburb east of Los Angeles. When Dobson was in college, the suburb was finishing a growth spurt: it had grown from 9,117 residents in 1900 to 116,407 residents in 1960. In the early 1980s, a proposed move of Pasadena College to Santa Ana, another suburb southeast of Los Angeles in Orange County, failed and the college occupied a former college campus in San Diego (and became known as Point Loma).
His first jobs involved teaching in two suburbs east of Los Angeles. Hacienda Heights is an unincorporated community that had 35,969 residents in 1970. Covina is also in the San Gabriel Valley and its population exploded in the postwar era, expanding from 3,956 residents in 1950 to 30,395 in 1970.
Without closer study, it is hard to know exactly how these suburban experiences shaped Dobson’s views and work. But going to school and starting work in a hotbed of growing evangelicalism in the post war era – suburban Los Angeles – plus his own experiences in small communities outside bigger cities echo broader evangelical patterns. Emphasizing nuclear family life and conservative political values also aligns with reasons evangelicals could embrace suburban life.
When President Donald Trump declared his third presidential candidacy in 2022, he saved his most colorful language for America’s urban areas, bemoaning “the blood-soaked streets of our once-great cities” and adding that “the cities are rotting, and they are indeed cesspools of blood.”
Later in his campaign, Trump called Milwaukee “horrible” and described Washington, D.C., as a “rat-infested, graffiti-infested shithole.” More recently he said, “These cities, it’s like living in hell.”
Other Republicans have seized on similar dystopian urban images. When Vice President JD Vance visited New York several years ago, he compared the city to a zombie apocalypse, posting: “I have heard it’s violent and disgusting there. But is it like Walking Dead Season 1 or Season 4?”
As Trump ramps up the military presence in Washington — and hints that he may move to take over other cities — his crackdown punctuates a frequent Republican message that American cities embody chaos, lawlessness and immorality, despite widespread recent drops in violent crime. With cities increasingly liberal and rural stretches ever more conservative, Republicans have a growing incentive to attack urban areas as the epitome of all that is wrong with America…
Trump’s rhetoric culminates a long history of American politicians casting cities as hotbeds of vice and social disorder, said Michael Kazin, a historian at Georgetown University and author of “The Populist Persuasion: An American History.” Left-wing populists have often been dismayed by the vast wealth inequality on display in cities, he said, while right-wing populists have recoiled from the elites, immigrants and minorities who live there.
This resonates with some Americans because there is a broader and longer history of criticizing cities in the United States. From the beginning, a number of Americans have idealized small town or rural living. The growth of major cities was accompanied by numerous concerns. When asked today, many Americans say they would prefer to live in small towns.
At the same time, it is hard to imagine the United States today without its big cities and the good things that came with them. A United States without New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago? Or San Francisco, New Orleans, and Cleveland?
Even if voting patterns by geography seem fairly set in American national elections, it would be interesting to hear more politicians articulate messages that cross these boundaries. Are people living in cities, suburbs, and rural more different than they are similar? Breaking through the existing patterns might just require addressing issues that Americans face or care about regardless of where they live.
Lists of the wealthiest communities in the United States often feature places with just a few thousand residents. But in looking at a list of the fastest-growing suburbs in the United States, I noticed that some of these fast-growing and large suburbs have high median household incomes. Here are 3 suburbs in the top 5 fastest-growing:
For 2023 (the same year at the end of the data used for this list), the Census Bureau reported that the median household income in the United States was $80,610. The median income means that half of households are above this mark, half are below. These suburbs are way over this mark and they have a lot of residents.
I have wondered about this given my research over the years on Naperville, Illinois. It is a larger suburb – around 150,000 residents – and it is wealthy. In 2023, its median household income is $150,937.
Knowing what I know about Naperville, my guess is that the three communities above are home to thousands of white-collar professional jobs. They have lots of office space. They are home to national and/or regional headquarters for sizable corporations. They have a particular quality of life residents expect.
At the same time, people living in these large and wealthy suburbs might have different experiences from those living in small and wealthy communities in the United States. What does this wealth and access to resources look like on a daily basis? What kind of community engagement and spirit is there? What separates these bigger and smaller wealthy suburbs from the communities around them that are not the same?
All of these locations are in the South or the West. All of them are sizable communities; the smallest has over 60,000 residents and several are over 200,000 residents.
Imagine how this much growth in a short period of time could change a community. More development and land in the community. Increased levels of local services, everything from school to libraries to firefighters to road maintenance. More traffic and activity. A different sense of who the community is.
At some point, the rapid growth of these ten years slows or stops. There is less land for development. There is limited appetite for building up or at higher densities. Growth moves to other nearby communities or other metropolitan areas.
It may take years for these suburbs to settle into being a place (1) that once had such fast growth and (2) that lives with the consequences of their now larger size.
Meanwhile, grassroots resistance to unchecked growth is on the rise. In Memphis, locals are trying to shut down an xAI facility powered by turbines they say are polluting the air in a historically black community that already suffers high rates of respiratory illness. A couple in Georgia told reporters their water taps went dry after Meta broke ground on a $750 million development in Newton County. In suburban northern Virginia, where the massive warehouses have become a fixture of everyday life, citizens complain that the developments are encroaching on neighbourhoods and homes at an alarming rate. In Prince William County, locals have even coalesced to try to change local ordinances and put an end to the incessant low-grade roar produced by data centre cooling systems.
In Alabama, residents in McCalla and in the City of Bessemer are united against Project Marvel. “We might be fighting an uphill battle,” David says, “but we’re going to fight it to the very end.” Locals have spent months pouring over academic reports and technical documents, trying to understand how data centres have been received in other communities and what risks might attend the development. They’ve also built a substantial coalition of allies in opposition to the project location, if not to the project itself, including Jefferson County Commission President Jimmie Stephens, State Representative Leigh Hulsey, and a wide range of environmental and other public advocacy organisations.
Generally, American communities think growth is good but they do reserve the right to try to have growth on their terms.
Reading this article and seeing online conversation opposed to data centers near me, I wonder which if these factors is more influential in the concerns people have:
The environmental costs of data centers including high water and electricity usage plus possible pollution and noise.
The sense that a community could find or approve better uses for the land rather than for a data center. How many jobs will actually be generated? Will the community actually see some benefits?
A sense that tech and/or certain companies are dangerous or they could corrupt communities.
Resistance to a potential change in local character that having a data center might represent.
Some of these are common responses in American communities to proposals for land use and others are more specific to data centers.
According to this article, there are already over 5,000 data centers in the United States. How many communities will say no to data centers and which ones will say yes?
Weapons is not a very scary horror film. It is, however, a fascinating movie about the suburbs and the way the architecture of family life supports silence and complicity. Horror movies often use the suburbs to interrogate the seedy underbelly of American promise. Whether exploring fear, ennui, racial tensions, or Satanic Panic, suburban horror films are about control—who has power and who desperately wants it.
Since the rise of postwar suburban sprawl, numerous cultural works have explored the facade of successful suburban life. What is hiding behind the green lawns?
Horror films do this in particular ways, following conventions in their field. One question we could ask is whether this particular film gets at this seedy underbelly in unique ways. Does it put together existing ideas in new ways? Does it break new ground in exploring the suburbs? Does it offer new commentary on suburban life here in 2025?
Another question we could ask: how many Americans are familiar with these horror film depictions of suburbs? If you have seen one or two such films, do you have a general sense of their suburban commentary?
A second marijuana dispensary quietly has opened in Arlington Heights, years after controversy and debate about whether to allow the first one to do business in town.
Longtime Mayor Tom Hayes was outright opposed to the vice, arguing it would diminish the village’s reputation as a family-oriented community.
But supporters say times have changed, and there was the new mayor, Jim Tinaglia, holding giant scissors at a recent ribbon cutting welcoming the new business and its green — leaves and tax dollars — to town…
But others on the elected panel soon decided revenue estimates from local taxes on pot sales — as much as $500,000 per dispensary, per year — were too good to pass up.
This potential link between the status of the community and the presence of marijuana dispensaries sound like it could involve testable hypotheses.
First, we would need to get at the status of a community. The suburbs overall are considered by Americans as “family-friendly” but the suggestion here is that some suburbs are more about families than others. Could Census data reveal that a suburb is “family-oriented” or would this depend on survey or interview data of local leaders and residents? Or is this more about social class – income, wealth, housing values and types, etc. – and the status that comes with it?
Second, perhaps this is not about status but rather the need for local revenues. How do budgets look before and after considering a marijuana dispensary? Can suburbs afford to keep certain businesses out? Dispensaries may not be the only businesses suburbs do not want; this could range from tattoo shops to warehouses to other land uses considered not in character with the community.
At least from this one story above, it sounds like a change in leadership plus a need for revenue led to different local approaches. And does this come with increased local revenues and any difference in status?
Perhaps an online crowd can convince people that this song is no good. But there are other social ways of addressing this question. For example, Wikipedia has a page titled “List of music considered the worst.” I have sampled across the albums and songs and there is a wide range of music that could be considered the “worst.” Or a group of friends could debate this among themselves as they play and remember different pieces of music.
How do we know if music (or books or TV shows or art or the product of any culture industry) is any good? We decide this collectively through interactions and over time. What we consider the “worst” music could differ but we have opportunities to be shaped by the opinions of others – including large-scale actors – and to shape the opinions of people around us.
I think we’re at an inflection point. So mostly people who have had to sell their home have been able to do so quite easily over the past two or three years. So even in the post-pandemic correction, it was fairly straightforward.
But now home sellers are struggling, especially people who bought a house during the pandemic. We are talking to them about lowering their price and they can’t, because they’ll be short on their mortgage. Now, we’re not going to have anything like the great financial crisis in 2008, where there was a wave of foreclosures. But for a particular population of folks who did buy during the pandemic, it has suddenly gotten very hard to sell their home and pay off their mortgage. And so right now the market is just teetering in a very unhappy equilibrium. I think that prices will come down, and I’m one of the people who views that as good news.
When bread prices come down, when gas prices come down, most Americans view that as cause for celebration. But when home prices go down, about half of us are worried about it and the other half are throwing a party. And really, for the younger generation, we need prices to come down…
So about 75 percent of American homeowners have a mortgage below 5 percent. We’re unlikely to see a rate like that anytime in the foreseeable future, and so those folks create this rate-locked inventory. Many, many people in America—more than half of all Americans—really couldn’t afford to buy their own home at current interest rates. So it’s very common for us to go to a listing consultation with someone who has had another baby or is going through a divorce, had some kind of life event where they need to move, and when they realize what they’re going to be able to afford from the sale of their home, they decide to stay put instead.
If the goal is to have a majority of Americans happy about housing prices, that might be hard at this particular moment. As described above, different actors may want higher or lower prices. Those wanting to rent or buy want lower prices. Those who are looking to sell might want higher prices. And the 0homeownership rate in the United States is a little over 65%.
But one hint above is that more people – a majority – might win if prices come down. If prices are too high and interest rates stay roughly where they are, there is little movement in the housing market. So could Americans be convinced that a drop is good? This would help more people get into the market and others to sell. (I wonder if it also might create more demand that would then raise prices again.)
Perhaps this is not the right topic in the first place. Focusing on this particular issue and moment obscures the larger issue: what is the long-term trajectory for American housing and for the ability of buyers and sellers? Do people perceive they can purchase a residence? What policies further (or hinder) a longstanding American idea that homeownership is a critical element of the American Dream?
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