Letter to the Editor: If this is nowhere, there’s nowhere we’d rather be

For the first time in two decades, the Quincy University women’s basketball team won the Great Lakes Valley Conference Tournament on Sunday and earned a spot in the NCAA Division II national tournament. For a community that loves basketball, this conference championship is a very big deal. We are incredibly proud of these gutsy, tenacious and accomplished women.

A day earlier, though, a GLVC broadcaster made his own news – never a good thing – by bemoaning the difficulty of recruiting top student-athletes to a city or town in a rural area. According to the broadcaster, “Quincy, well, that’s a tough sell, just because it’s Quincy, and it’s in the middle of nowhere.” 

With QU’s tournament victory, the point is obviously made: Quincy’s location in the middle of some of the world’s best farmland didn’t prevent the Hawks from beating teams from those sophisticated big cities of Springfield and St. Louis. The broadcaster apologized the next day, on air, and the nice Midwestern folk of Quincy are apt to forgive. 

Still, Quincy and west central Illinois are understandably weary of what sounds like trash talk. More than 50 years ago, Adams County, home to Quincy, was among 16 Illinois counties nicknamed “Forgottonia” because those counties were consistently bypassed when interstate highways were built and transportation projects funded. 

Since the Forgottonia name was coined, the United States has experienced increasing urbanization and a growing tendency to criticize rural areas as economic and cultural backwaters. While insulting references to the “middle of nowhere” have been around for almost 200 years, today we have books, films and social media accounts repeatedly suggesting anyone who doesn’t live in New York, Los Angeles or (maybe) Chicago lives in nowhere’s middle. 

For me and for many other Quincyans, the rural name-calling feels personal, even when the name-caller doesn’t think he’s being mean. 

Going back to the 19th century, my family lived in Illinois, Iowa and Missouri farm country. My parents and grandparents were all from the Forgottonia counties of Illinois. I have fourth cousins (seriously) living in Quincy. 

When they could choose an urban somewhere, the farm-owning, small-town-loving folks who make up my family tree always chose nowhere. 

I once lived in much bigger cities – Louisville, Charleston (the one in South Carolina), even Springfield (again, the one in Missouri) – before choosing Quincy, a community of not quite 40,000 souls. 

But this is … nowhere? Given my rural roots, Quincy feels mighty cosmopolitan to me. 

Quincy, a city on the banks of one the world’s five great rivers.

Quincy, a city where I can eat at a different restaurant for 30 days in a row — and do so again in the next month. 

Quincy, a city with museums, an arts council and its own orchestra, theatre and opera. 

Quincy, a city with a neighborhood bar on almost every corner and friendly folk at every table. 

Quincy, a city with many of the same big box stores I also visit in St. Louis and Chicago. 

Quincy, a city where the internet connections work just fine. 

We get all this in Quincy. Yes, we don’t have to wait in rush hour every afternoon, but you won’t find us apologizing for that.  

Each year, about 1,200 students come to Quincy University, most of whom didn’t grow up near our city. Like tens of thousands of other college students in the United States, many of them chose a university in a town smaller than their own. We are proud of those students, whether they go on to live in Quincy or New York. But one choice isn’t better than the other. 

So, my fellow Quincyans, please join in me in celebrating our life in nowhere. We’re home to the 2025 GLVC Women’s Basketball Champions and a whole lot more.

Brian McGee
President, Quincy University
Quincy, Illinois