HOPE TOWNSHIPS, Michigan ‒ Lori and Richard Stade constructed their ideal retirement home by a canal where they enjoyed fishing for bass and bluegill, and took their grandchildren on boating adventures along what had been dubbed “pontoon alley.”

“You couldn’t wish for a better retirement spot,” stated 67-year-old Lori Stade, a former travel agent and high school Spanish instructor. “It feels like a vacation. It’s agricultural and focuses on family.”

However, in May 2020, when Wixom Lake and its canals dried up, the residents of this area known as Hope in Midland County faced significant losses.

That spring, strong storms caused floodwaters to surge downstream, leading to at least $200 million in damages; two dams were destroyed, a bridge was swept away, and around 10,000 residents in two counties were forced to evacuate.

“It felt like a scene from a disaster film,” recalled Stade.

What remained was a vast, barren expanse resembling a sandy moonscape, scattered with wreckage – pieces of docks, twisted hoists, and overturned boats. It appeared as if a drain had been pulled from a bathtub.

In Michigan, access to water significantly differentiates the privileged from the less fortunate.

Michigan has nearly 3,300 miles of freshwater coastline, more than any other state in the U.S. No one is more than six miles away from a body of fresh water, be it a lake, stream, canal, or pond, and no one is further than 85 miles from one of the Great Lakes.

From May through September, the lakes are bustling with boaters, families enjoying speedboats while children are pulled on innertubes or water skis.

The Stades believed they achieved their Michigan dream when they laid the groundwork for their log cabin at the end of a canal. However, after the water receded, property values declined and the economic viability of lakeside residents deteriorated.

This summer, reporters from YSL News traveled to six towns named Hope to collect stories about the triumphs and hardships of Americans, exploring what instills hope amid a politically fragmented landscape.

Stade remains determined. Along with her husband, they are observing the ongoing legal dispute regarding the restoration of the lake that symbolized their dreams.

“We’re not going anywhere,” she affirmed. “We’ve invested so much effort into this place.”

From Hope to Hell and a journey back

Michigan features an abundance of “Hope.”

The second Hope Township is located 140 miles southwest of the Stades’ residence. The state is also home to Port Hope on Lake Huron, Hope College along the western coast, two lakes named Hope, and a town known as Hope Creek.

Interestingly, there is also a small place called Hell, approximately 60 miles northwest of Detroit, perched between the state’s two major universities. It often becomes the subject of jokes during cold weather, humorously noted when “Hell freezes over,” or during summer heat waves, when newscasters contend that it’s “hotter than Hell.”

The two Hope Townships are agricultural communities that have predominantly leaned conservative politically for years, despite Michigan – affectionately known as the “Mitten” for its shape – supporting Democrats in presidential races from 1988 until 2016.

Jeanne Hope, a 67-year-old retiree living in the other Hope Township located in Barry County, shares similarities with Stade.

A divorced mother of three grown children, grandmother to seven, and soon-to-be great-grandmother, she enjoys cruising along the winding roads of her township on her Yamaha V Star 950 motorcycle, flanked by U.S. flags.

“I truly love it here,” she expressed. “People are friendly; it’s less about ‘Just leave me alone,’ and more about ‘What do you need?’ That’s the sort of mindset our country could use more of—getting back to caring for one another.”

In her Hope Township, she noted, “If you need support, chances are someone will be there for you. Even if they can’t help personally, they’ll know someone who can.”

Three years back, she and fellow bikers organized a charity motorcycle ride to assist a friend in Prairieville who was at risk of losing his home during the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic.

“We even had a police escort,” Hope reminisced. “We raised about $21,000. It felt like everyone contributed.”

The supportive community also rallied around her when she faced her own difficulties. Hope shared that she battled alcoholism, arising from the stress of her divorce while managing two jobs to make ends meet. With the help of her friends and neighbors, she achieved eight years of sobriety and now assists others facing similar issues.

“When everyone jokes about my last name, I remind them that there is always hope. Nothing is ever so broken that you can’t find a silver lining somewhere,” she said. “Hope is vital; without it, what is the purpose of being here?”

The most dynamic of swing states

Michigan’s reputation as one of the most unpredictable swing states solidified when Donald Trump flipped the state red by defeating Secretary of State Hillary Clinton in the 2016 presidential election, winning by a mere 10,704 votes – under two-tenths of 1%, the narrowest margin in any state nationwide.

This status was further confirmed in the 2020 presidential election, when Joe Biden, the former Vice President, reclaimed Michigan for the Democrats, winning with a margin of 154,188 votes.

Although Biden won Michigan in 2020, he did not receive the majority of the votes in either of the two Hope Townships.

Instead, that distinction belonged to Trump, who garnered approximately 70% of the votes in Midland County’s Hope (641 out of 914 ballots) and 65% in Barry County’s Hope (1,253 out of 1,915 ballots).

Even though both Stade and Hope reside in firm Republican areas, they are not keen on the idea of another term for Trump.

Stade feels disheartened about the possibility of Biden serving another four years but was encouraged when Kamala Harris took his place on the campaign ticket.

“I really like Kamala,” Stade expressed. “Having a woman president like Kamala would be amazing, as she represents great potential to improve our country and make it more accessible to everyone. For people like me in the working class, she brings a renewed sense of hope as president.”

As of early September, Hope was still weighing her options regarding presidential candidates.

“I’m figuring out what will be the best choice for our country,” Hope stated, her voice rising in concern. “Since we can’t rewind time, we have to focus on the present and decide who is the least unfavorable choice.”

Hope mentioned that politics and the ensuing discussions can be really frustrating.

Hope shares her home with her youngest son, Brad, who is 38 and works for the county sewer department, as well as his wife Penny, who is a paraprofessional at a middle school in Delton, and her two grandsons. They live in a three-bedroom home on 2.5 acres and recently managed to save up for an above-ground pool.

The family’s annual income is around $80,000, which falls between the county’s average household income of about $75,000 and Hope’s township average of $85,000. Hope noted that they are feeling the strain of inflation and the rising grocery prices.

To help manage expenses, they maintain a chicken coop with over 30 birds. The chickens produce more eggs than they can consume, leading them to share the surplus with others, even though Hope remarked that “buying chicken feed is not cheap.”

“We’re not part of the ‘haves’ nor the ‘have-nots’,” Hope explained. “We exist in a middle ground. A steak dinner is a luxury. Everyone is cautious about their spending.”

Failed dams, dashed hopes

The Stade family fell in love with the lakes of mid-Michigan in the 1980s, enchanted by the endless stretches of farmland with roadside stands selling fresh produce like tomatoes, peaches, and eggs. It’s a slower-paced life here with little to no rush-hour traffic – unless you count being stuck behind a slow-moving tractor on rural roads.

Eventually, the Stades saved enough to purchase a small slice of waterfront property in Hope. The town is so quaint that its downtown consists merely of a cluster of buildings at the intersection of North Hope and East Hull roads, including a church, a post office, a fire station, and a township hall.

With assistance from friends and family, the Stades built their dream retirement cabin in just one summer. The log cabin features a ground-level bedroom, an upstairs loft, and a basement that leads out to the canal.

“We bought this lot for $12,000,” Stade recounted. “We ordered the logs from a company up north, and they came labeled like Lincoln Logs, A, B, C, D.”

Currently, her seawall leads down into a gully about seven feet deep, filled with muck, cattails, and weeds.

No one can predict when water will return to Wixom Lake. Ongoing legal disputes concerning who should pay for repairs have pushed back the restoration of the dams, reservoirs, and canals.

The Edenville Dam, which was privately owned by Boyce Hydro Power LLC, collapsed, leading Boyce to file for bankruptcy. Last year, Lee Mueller, the former operator, was mandated to pay nearly $120 million in environmental damages.

Almost $250 million has been raised through federal and state grants and private donations for repairs, but the total expenses are anticipated to be much higher.

Homeowners near the lakes will face annual taxes for the next 40 years based on property size and access to water, averaging around $2,160 per lot yearly, according to Taylor Trapani from the Four Lakes Task Force, which is leading the restoration efforts.

“Some are resisting these changes,” Stade sighed, shaking her head.

Even without any legal holdups, the earliest estimate for returning water to Wixom Lake is expected to be August 2027, with a possible variance of six months, Trapani indicated.

The Stades have sold their pontoon boat and are concerned about how their older neighbors will cope. Instead of spending time fishing or boating, Stade now dedicates her summers to making stuffed Humpty Dumpty dolls, aprons, potholders, and baby blankets to sell at a farmers’ market.

Despite everything, she remains hopeful.

In her backyard, an old, blue-bottomed paddle boat rests against a porch post, serving as a reminder of what was lost and what might return.

“The water will come back, and people will start visiting again, and hopefully, the economy will improve,” Stade stated. “That’s all we can hope for.”