TARHEELS & WOLVERINES — IS THERE ANY CONNECTION?

For starters, let’s look at elections. In the months leading up to November 5, 2024, which seven states dominated the headlines as the key ‘swing states’ for Donald Trump and Kamala Harris to get to 270 electoral votes? Those seven states were (in alphabetical order): Arizona, Georgia, Michigan, Nevada, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin.

While that may seem like old news, particularly with Trump’s blitzkrieg first five months in office, a recent trip south of the Mason-Dixon line to North Carolina invites some unexpected comparisons between two of those seven states beyond sharing a mutual classification as ‘battleground states.’

Whereas three delegates from North Carolina were among the 56 who signed the Declaration of Independence, no Michigan hands could have been anywhere near the 1776 document because Michigan was not added as territory to the Union until the Northwestern Ordinance of 1787.

What about the two states’ economies? North Carolina, from its founding through the Civil War (known as the War of Northern Aggression to some North Carolinians), depended  heavily on slave labor for its tobacco and rice plantations. That war ended slavery, but it hardly curtailed Big Tobacco although it’s now more corporate (think R.J. Reynolds).

Neither rice nor tobacco has ever been a major part of Michigan’s economy, and of course neither slavery nor the Civil War’s bloodshed ever existed in Michigan, although the 1st Michigan Engineers and Mechanics regiment did. That fighting band was one of 10 engineering regiments for the Union army during the war, and it played a decisive role in the Union victory at the Battle of Bentonville, the largest Civil War battle fought in North Carolina. That was 160 years ago, in March 1865, three weeks before General Robert E. Lee’s surrender at Appomattox Courthouse in nearby Virginia.

Jumping into the 21st century, North Carolina and Michigan currently rank right next to each other as the 9th and 10th most populous states in America with just over 11 million and 10 million residents, respectively. Accordingly, the two states are currently neck-and-neck in their electoral votes: Michigan has 15 electoral votes (13 members in the US House of Representatives) to North Carolina’s 16 electoral votes (14 members in the US House of Representatives). Also, the landmasses of each are strikingly similar in size, not counting water (fresh or salt). True, Michigan has the longest shoreline of any of the 48 contiguous states, so, counting offshore water, Michigan is nearly twice the physical size of the Tarheel State. In a perhaps counterintuitive twist, however, North Carolina outnumbers Michigan in its number of counties, with 100 vs. 83.

It’s noteworthy that the recent population trajectories of the two states have been staggeringly different: Michigan’s electoral votes peaked at 21 from the elections of 1964 through 1980, while North Carolina during the same time frame had a mere 13 electoral votes. North Carolina’s current 16 electoral votes is the highest tally ever in the state’s history. Meanwhile, Michigan’s population has remained depressingly stagnant for decades, lagging well behind the national average in growth, which explains why Michigan has lost six electoral votes since 1980 at the same time North Carolina has gained three.

Today, North Carolina is one of the fastest growing states in America owing to its reasonable cost of living as well as its relatively mild climate. Few Up North know that the term “halfback” is viral in North Carolina. What does that mean? It refers to people who migrated from New England or the Rust Belt states to Florida, but then found the Sunshine State weather TOO hot, so they moved “halfback” to the moderate climate of North Carolina.

Another major impetus for North Carolina’s appeal is the dynamic economic opportunities in the so-called “Research Triangle” of Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill (all three cities are host to major, well-heeled universities: North Carolina State, Duke, and the University of North Carolina, respectively). Indeed, the Piedmont region of the state is brimming with potential for all aspiring R&D startups, attracting a young demographic. For its part, Michigan’s best hope for an  economic draw may lie in the electric vehicle, electric battery, and semiconductor sectors, although there appears to be growing doubt about that. Enthusiasm for EVs in Michigan — or anything powering motor vehicles — can’t be a surprise given that Michigan, despite loss of market share, remains America’s #1 in car manufacturing just as it was to a greater extent in the halcyon “Economic Miracle” era post-WWII.

Back to agriculture — both states are top drawer. Michigan ranks number one in producing asparagus, squash, cherries, and pickling cucumbers. Not to be outdone, North Carolina sets the national gold standard in yielding sweet potatoes. That might earn it a claim to being a citadel of’ good health were it not for the sobering fact that the Tarheel State has long been the nation’s leading producer of tobacco, the purveyor of King Nicotine, just as it was in its colonial Golden Age.

In presidential politics, Michigan voted for Democrat Bill Clinton in 1992, but North Carolina voted for incumbent Republican George H.W. Bush. Since Michigan cast its ballots for Bush in 1988, Donald Trump is the only Republican presidential nominee for whom Michigan has pulled the lever (doing so in 2016 and 2024 but not in 2020), whereas North Carolina has voted Grand Old Party in every presidential election since Reagan’s 1980 landslide except for Barack Obama in 2008.

But voting trends at the presidential level in Michigan and North Carolina have not necessarily translated in down-the-ballot state races. On the contrary, Michigan and North Carolina voters have both demonstrated a strong (and commendable, some would argue) ability to distinguish between the two parties at the national and the state levels rather than simply voting straight party ticket. Michigan may have voted blue in seven of the last nine presidential elections dating to 1992, but one would never know it when analyzing Michigan’s recent down ballot races. Yes, Democrats gained a ‘Trifecta’ in 2022 (for the first time in nearly four decades), but otherwise it’s been a different story. Indeed, since 1992, the Michigan Republican party enjoyed 14 years of a ‘Trifecta’ — a Republican governor as well as Republican control of both the state House and state Senate (eight of those 14 years were during Governor Rick Snyder’s tenure) compared with the Democratic Party’s mere two. Similarly, North Carolina displayed the same against-the-grain trend in spite of voting red in 11 of the 12 most recent presidential elections: the NC Democratic party had 14 years of a Democratic Governor-two-chamber majority Trifecta to the NC Republicans’ mere four-years (2013-2016).

Another way to view the ‘Trifecta’ scoreboard is to infer that Wolverine and Tar Heel voters share an uncannily similar preference for balance-of-power divided government. In the last 34 years, Michigan has had 18 years in which neither party had a Trifecta (this includes the current composition, with the Republicans controlling the State House and the Democrats narrowly controlling the State Senate and the governorship). Meanwhile, North Carolina has had 16 years in which neither party had a Trifecta (which also includes the current composition, with the Democrats controlling the governorship and the Republicans possessing majorities in both the state Senate and state House).

It was the immovable object vs. the irresistible force for North Carolina in a historic state election last November 5: they would either have their first Jewish governor or they would have their first African-American governor. Democratic nominee Josh Stein defeated the controversial Lieutenant Governor and Trump-backed GOP nominee Mark Robinson by a comfortable 14-percent margin to serve as North Carolina’s 76th governor – and first Jewish one (incidentally, none of Michigan’s 49 governors has identified as Jewish). Robinson was the first African-American nominee by either major party in the Tar Heel State, the equivalent nearly four decades later of Michigan’s own William “Bill” Lucas. After serving as the first elected Wayne County Executive (1983-86), Lucas switched party affiliation from Democrat to Republican in time for the 1986 gubernatorial election. He won the GOP primary and became Michigan’s first African-American gubernatorial candidate to win his party’s nomination from either major political party. Unfortunately for Lucas, he suffered a far worse defeat at the hands of the incumbent, Democrat James Blanchard, than did North Carolina’s Robinson seven months ago. But to this day, Lucas and Robinson remain the only African-American nominees of the two major parties for the Wolverine and Tar Heel states, both coincidentally as Republicans in spite of African-American voting tendencies heavily in favor of the Democratic party in both states. Both nominees went on to a drubbing.

And what of the frequently used “Wolverine” and “Tar Heels” monikers? Both of them are antiquated anachronisms of a bygone era and have no accurate relevance to the modern day. Wolverines are considered extinct in Michigan and the “Tar Heel” term was formerly a derogatory name for the impecunious workers of the once-thriving tar, turpentine, and pitch naval industries who could not afford shoes; as such, their bare feet were often darkly caked as a revealing trademark. But the tar, turpentine, and pitch industries were “Gone with the Wind” following the Confederacy’s defeat in 1865 and no longer are a significant cog in North Carolina’s economy. As such, and despite their ubiquitous use in our language, sightings of actual Wolverines and Tar Heels are non-existent – with the notable exception of a certain, playful “Hail to the Victors” university mascot. “Go Blue” can thus be loudly heard among the faithful fanbase supporting a certain college in Ann Arbor, whereas UNC Tar Heel afficionados would never scream “Go Blue” without adding “and White” lest they be confused with their arch rival, the Duke Blue Devils (who never say “go Blue”).

Seldom do these Big Ten and Atlantic Coast Conference juggernauts meet in competitive sporting events, but one memorably rare moment occurred some three decades ago in an NCAA basketball final. Yes, it was against the UNC Tarheels that, in the closing seconds of the game, nobody reminded U-M star Chris Webber that there were no timeouts left