Minneapolis
Only waterfall on Mississippi made Minneapolis flour capital; now hosts 17 Fortune 500 companies. Corporate concentration faces tax and remote-work headwinds.
Minneapolis exists because water falls. St. Anthony Falls—the only waterfall on the entire Mississippi River—drops 50 feet through what is now downtown, and that vertical drop created the energy that built a city. Fort Snelling soldiers built the first flour mill here in 1823. By the 1850s, speculators had founded two towns on either side of the falls, later merged into Minneapolis in 1872. The mills that followed turned Minneapolis into the flour milling capital of the world for fifty years starting in 1880.
The city's trajectory follows a pattern of ecological succession: primary resource extraction giving way to increasingly complex economic activity. Sawmills came first (Minneapolis led the nation 1848-1887), then flour mills processed the Great Plains wheat harvest, then agribusiness giants like Cargill emerged to coordinate global commodity flows. Today the progression continues: Cargill remains America's largest private company, but the city's economic center of gravity has shifted to healthcare (UnitedHealth Group, #3 on the Fortune 500 with $400 billion in revenue), retail (Target, #41), and diversified conglomerates (3M, General Mills, Best Buy).
Minneapolis now anchors a metropolitan area with 17 Fortune 500 headquarters—more per capita than almost any American city. This concentration didn't happen by accident. The flour-milling era created a culture of technical excellence and process optimization. When milling declined, that institutional knowledge found new hosts. Cargill's commodity trading requires the same systematic thinking as optimizing mill efficiency. UnitedHealth's claims processing is industrial-scale grain sorting for the information age.
Yet the model shows strain. Minnesota's second-highest corporate tax rate discourages new investment. Several major employers have cut jobs and seen stock prices fall 25% or more. The skyway system that once symbolized Minneapolis's ingenuity—11 miles of enclosed walkways connecting 80 blocks—now connects emptier office buildings.
By 2026, Minneapolis faces the question every post-industrial city confronts: can institutional excellence survive when the institutions themselves are challenged? The falls still roar beneath the city, but the turbines stopped turning decades ago.