On a map, this city of 27,244 doesn’t look like much. Out of sight and out of mind in the northwesternmost corner of the state, we below forget not only that it’s there but how its economy is so deeply interwoven into the fabric of the rest of the state, the nation and the planet. Yes, northern Wisconsin has taken an economic beating in the last half-century and fully replacing lost jobs and industries may never happen. But in Superior, location is both a strength and a weakness. Here at the head of a vast inland sea is the state’s largest port, where over 48 million tons of cargo makes its way annually, and the state’s only oil refinery, where 12 percent of all U.S. crude oil is processed.

Reach high enough on the bookshelf that is Wisconsin and you’ll find a great story. You’ll also find yourself in the hub of the Great White North’s north, where an impressive economic comeback is gaining steam even as the rest of the state and nation struggle to just hang on. The recession that began rocking the nation in 2008 didn’t arrive here until later, and has already shown signs of an early departure. Unemployment here remains below state and national averages and job growth, while slow, is actually happening. Trying to wrap your head around how Superior manages those feats is impossible, though, without a crash course in northern econ 101. So consider this The Readers’ Digest condensed version. Once upon a time, many highly regarded capitalists and politicians, including Illinois Sen. Stephen Douglas, a Democrat who ran unsuccessfully for president against one Abe Lincoln, believed Superior would become the next Chicago. That’s right, that bastion of frozen tundra most Wisconsinites think little of, much less set foot on, was built with a Sears Tower in mind — sort of. 

“Superior was always looked at as being a rival of Chicago. Chicago was always the center of commerce for what was then the West, and Superior was laid out to be a city the size of Chicago,” says Scott Nielsen, a retired dentist here, whose ancestors were among Superior’s first non-Native American residents and whose great-great-great uncle, William Newton, was Superior’s first city planner.

What people like Newton and Douglas, for whom the county Superior lies in is named, saw here was a string of T’s: Transportation, timber and taconite. Its abundant resources and means to transport them — west or east — were and still are the foundation of this 45-square-mile city. Aquatically blessed, it is bordered by Lake Superior, three bays and the St. Louis and Nemadji Rivers. Founded in 1854, Superior’s unique position as the furthest goods can be shipped entirely on water from east to west allowed it to play a critical role in the nation’s westward expansion.

“It’s about the most beautiful place in the world that I can think of, and we’ve got 
a tremendous transportation infrastructure. 
You can get things here that were fabricated anywhere in the world. You can bring big equipment up through the seaway by ship, you can export things from here to anywhere in the world by ship. Transportation is a real big strength,” says Dave Podratz, the refinery manager for Murphy Oil in Superior.

Initially designed for up to one million people, the population peaked at 65,000 in 1908. But like many remote communities founded during the nation’s embrace of Manifest Destiny, the good times didn’t last forever. A series of starts and stops, fueled by the three T’s, went on for decades and well into the 20th century. When times were good, thousands of souls poured in. When times were bad, they left as quickly as they came.

“Superior’s history has been one of boom or bust and we’ve learned from that,” says Andy Lisak, the administrator for Douglas County.

What Lisak and other regional leaders learned is that the bigger the boom, the bigger the bust. So instead of pegging their comeback — and economic future — entirely onto the coattails of the next big thing, a different course was charted. Little by little, Superior has sought to diversify its economy via the muscle of entrepreneurs who realized their dreams had a better chance of becoming reality here than anyplace else in the nation. National and international companies, whose CEOs spend their winters far away from the big chill that comes blasting off the largest inland lake in the world, are still welcome. But no longer are they the only game in town.

The Challenge
If your car runs on synthetic oil, you owe Albert Amatuzio a thank you card. As a jet fighter in the United States Air Force, Lt. Col. Amatuzio saw the performance perks of synthetic lubricants. As a civilian, he formulated the world’s first synthetic motor oil to meet American Petroleum Institute service requirements for automobiles. Amatuzio produced that fateful first can in 1972, birthing an entire industry. Superior’s transportation infrastructure served as a cost-effective red carpet for his product launch, introducing synthetic auto lubricants to markets all over the world. Today his firm, Amsoil, is headquarted in Superior and the region’s 18th largest employer.

Just because Amatuzio quickly saw what Superior could do for his dream doesn’t mean others do. Dean Alexander is Amsoil’s executive vice president and chief financial officer, and he says selling Superior isn’t easy.

“Yes, we are a little more isolated and, yes, it has been a hindrance to attracting more business because of our end-of-the-highway location. But it’s not that different, the challenges, than many other places,” Alexander says.

Superior boasts a number of homegrown companies that offer strength to the region’s economy and good paying jobs. But like other parts of the state, Superior is fighting to hold onto what it does have in the way of business while rolling out the welcome mat for others. It also grapples with a youth drain, lower than average household incomes and the oldest housing stock in the state.
Keeping the business it does have, leaders say, is key in addressing its other challenges. When Murphy Oil was recently sold to the Arkansas-based Calumet, the questions were many. The top two, of course, were will Wisconsin’s only refinery stay open and will any of Murphy’s 150 employees be laid off when the sale is finalized sometime this fall?

“This has been a discussion for quite a while,” says Superior Mayor Bruce Hagen. 

Murphy, he explains, underwent a $50 million modernization upgrade last year, which will “enhance” refinery operations here. Across the country, refineries are closing and yet demand soars. In the case of the Murphy-Calumet sale, he says, Superior’s spot on the map proves again to be a source of strength and Calumet brings to the table a bigger oil-based product menu. Whether that means more jobs isn’t known, but right now many signs, if not the mayor directly, seem to say ‘yes.’

Sign number one? The Alberta Clipper pipeline, a fiercely contested expansion of the Enbridge pipeline, went into initial operation last year, and features breakout tanks in Superior. At full capa-
city, up to 800,000 barrels of crude oil from the Alberta tar sands could flow through the 1,000-mile pipeline. What does that mean for Superior and the recent Murphy-Calumet sale?

“I think it’s going to be a growth industry, with more barrels of crude oil being refined,” Hagen says.

The Push
Try as it does to avoid dancing the boom and bust, Superior seems a willing partner. This go-around, though, officials are working hard to minimize the risks even as they kick up their heels to the beat of big business. Whether it’s the opportunity to work with what environmentalists call the “dirtiest oil on the planet” via the Alberta Clipper or reap the economic benefits of proposed iron-ore mining 75 miles east in Ashland and Iron counties, Superior is committed to remaining relevant in a global economy. While tourism has become northern Wisconsin’s fourth T, relying on the pocketbooks of out-of-towners, it doesn’t frequently translate into high paying jobs. People here love their landscape, love that tens of thousands flock here annually to enjoy it, but they don’t want to count too heavily on the tips of tourists to carry them through the winter. And why should they when there are natural resources below ground the world is clamoring for?

In these highly partisan times, northern Wisconsin is a bit of an anomaly when it stands mostly united in support of responsible mining in Ashland and Iron counties, where the ground is rich with taconite. Everyone interviewed for this story believes open-pit iron mining isn’t a matter of if but when, and all hope its arrival will be sooner rather than later. Most also agree that the state’s mining laws need changing if the industry is to become economically viable in Wisconsin. But no one on either side of the political aisle was willing to back the sweeping changes Gogebic Taconite, a subsidiary of the mining giant Kline Group, was reported to be asking for. Particularly galling to many was reported language that sought to drastically limit public input in proposed mines.

“The real issue isn’t what Gogebic was proposing,” says state Sen. Bob Jauch, D-Superior. “The real question is what is wrong with our existing laws that needs to be improved?”

As of press time, there was no legislation on the table that would revise the state’s mining laws or permitting process but many believe a bill will emerge this fall. If it does, you can bet Superior will be paying close attention.

Still, nobody here is waiting with baited breath for big oil or big mining to start spreading their billions around. Life at this exact moment in Superior, many say, is pretty good. Could things be better? Sure. But waiting for the next boom — and possible bust — isn’t what Superior does anymore. Not when there’s work to be done today.

“We’re part of the world economy,” says Lisak. “Not just the national economy. It’s a good place to be.” 


Old Wood Breathes New Life 
into Superior’s Economy

Judy Peres knows a lot about cranes. A lot more than she ever thought she would three years ago, when she left her job as a national editor and senior writer for The Chicago Tribune. Like many veteran newspaper journalists, she worried about her future. Offered a buy-out in 2008, she took the money and ran — to Superior, where David Hozza, 66, a former Twin Cities investment banker, had started Wisconsin Woodchuck.

Initially a “minor investor” in the reclaimed wood supplier, Peres, 65, is a now a full partner and crane owner. She and Hozza, a longtime couple, are also the proud parents of a subsidiary: The Old Globe Reclaimed Wood Company, which is currently deconstructing an 1887 Globe Elevator in Superior.

“This is a gargantuan project,” says Peres. “It’s the kind of thing you wouldn’t do if you had any idea how hard it was going to be. You can only get into this if you’re idealistic and don’t know that much about it. This is like deconstructing the pyramids.”
Weighing in the hundreds of tons, and measuring some 6 million board feet — most of it virgin eastern white pine — the dismantled wood is quickly finding its way to homes, restaurants and even convention centers.

While the elevator they’re taking apart on the shores of Lake Superior is a finite resource, Peres says it’s only the beginning for the company and its nine employees. “The fact is,” she says, “there are lots of other grain elevators out there, and once we’ve established the brand and we have the expertise to take down the buildings, I don’t think we’re going to have a problem finding additional sources of wood. ”

By Lisa Schmelz

Lisa M. Schmelz is a freelance journalist based in Delavan.

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