In the west Chicago suburb of Sugar Grove—population 4,000, twice what it was 10 years ago—new large-lot developments spread spider-like from the downtown public library, police station, and village hall out into open farmland. The village has no sizeable employers or large shopping centers, and has limited recreational facilities. All those things are available close by in other suburbs and, of course, in the city of Chicago. After elementary school, children travel to neighboring suburbs for high school. When developers come calling with high-density projects and in-fill proposals, they are sent packing. The village administration explains that people who want to live in a town with greater density and with every service right at hand have their choice of numerous other suburbs. Those who choose to live in Sugar Grove do so because they want large lots and plenty of open space and are willing to travel to their jobs and to shopping in order to live in that sort of environment. The village has identified its niche, markets to that niche, and vows to resist the pressure for different types of development that would change its character.

Twenty-five miles to the East is Chicago. Like other northern, deindustrialized cities, Chicago seemed for a long time to be caught in a downward vortex to disaster. Crime, deteriorating public schools, a dilapidated infrastructure, unpleasant and outdated public transportation, and the expense and myriad hardships of living sent families in droves to the suburbs. The city was gradually depopulated of its middle classes, being left to the poor—many of them warehoused in huge and hugely depressing public housing complexes such as Cabrini Green—and the very wealthy, who had the resources to overcome Chicago's inhospitable conditions.