When one drives into Danville it's hard to miss the factories.  Or, more precisely, the big majestic buildings that formerly were factories - one time shrines of the South's manufacturing economy.  A good number of these structures are now dark, lifeless hulks that seem to literally and figuratively cast a shadow over a proud city and region.

When looking at them it's easy for two thoughts to pop to mind: (1) Those huge buildings must have had this town buzzing in their heyday; and (2) the fact that they are idle must darken and paralyze the mood of Danville and all its Southside neighbors.

I recently visited Danville right after Goodyear announced more bad economic news -- layoffs and buyouts are putting about 400 locals out of work -- for a region that doesn't need any more bad news. Honestly, I wondered if I would find a shell-shocked city. How much can anyone take before assuming the heavy black storm clouds and their accompanying whip-strong winds are permanent?

Well, to answer that question I invite everyone to take a trip to Danville. There you will find what I did: a bunch of people who don't believe storm clouds last forever. I didn't meet anyone in Danville sitting around waiting for the economy to get better. No, in Danville you find people hard at work trying to make the economy -- and their lives -- better. Despite every reason to sink into a dizzying depression, they haven't. Instead of a hang-dog, why-us spirit, a nose-to-the-grind-stone, let's-get-to-work ethic permeates everything and everyone. It's almost impossible to describe.

The Goodyear announcement seems only to have strengthened the area's legendary resolve. A resolve typified by the smiling face of Laurie Moran, president of the Danville-Pittsylvania Chamber of Commerce. As she opened the door of the chamber's headquarters to greet me, it was apparent that Moran -- a bright ball of cheerfulness -- can't properly be described using the word "depressed." Next time I have a bad day, I'm calling her.

"This community recognizes and acknowledges its challenges. But we are willing to do anything and everything to bring about change," she said in a mellifluous Southern accent. "We had a choice about what path we would take. We could have accepted defeat and deterioration. But that's not Southside." According to Moran, "People are getting down to work."

And those aren't just the cheerleading words one would expect to hear from a chamber official. She's right. Just walking around downtown, the mood and rhythm of Danville don't comport with a city that has accepted defeat.

I asked Moran to talk a little more about Southside's challenges, and how the region's leaders planned to reverse them. She didn't hide or resort to political spin. The biggest feat, according to her, will be completing a "cultural shift on education."

During the glory days of the big factories -- Dan River Inc. once employed 12,000 in Danville alone -- people "could just go get a job in the factory or in tobacco. Education was not all that necessary." In the 21st century's global economy "now [education] is a necessity." Moran continued: "We have to let young people know they absolutely can't drop out of school. We have to include career and technical skills in the curriculum. We have to emphasize STEM [Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics] in classrooms."

Business leaders fan out around the region and talk to eighth-graders to emphasize the "stay in school" message, and hammer the point that a rigorous course of study can fatten the students' wallets if they earn a high school degree or go beyond. Moran goes on to point out, "Graduation rates are improving. We're not perfect yet, but our community-wide emphasis on this message is showing some positive signs."

One of the challenges Southside isn't facing is how to foster regional co-operation. Nothing fosters regionalism better than a severe crisis.

"There's no 'me' mentality around here. We couldn't survive."

Moran admits, "It takes work -- it doesn't happen naturally -- but regional cooperation is our only chance to survive. Other communities have continued their internal fights [during an economic crisis], and those places are dying on the vine." That accounts for the Southside-wide focus on education, and the fact that the cities and counties have worked to realign their business-development strategy -- "We don't want all our eggs in one or two baskets again. We want to foster many smallerand medium-sized businesses, too" -- to work together as a unit.

Moran also pointed out that Danville is only about an hour and a half from North Carolina's Research Triangle. That puts Southside in a plot of land ringed by the University of Virginia to the north, Virginia Tech to the west, and the North Carolina Three (UNC, Duke, and N.C. State) to the south. "Duke's MBA program has a rugby tournament here on a field we created for them." That's not a bad field from which to sprout a 21st century economic recovery.

Yet for all the encouraging talk I was getting from Moran, I wondered if any community had ever fought an economic climate as daunting as the one that faces Southside and come out on top.

Danville can have all the optimism in the world, but are its citizens fighting a battle no one has ever won? Her answer was quick and with conviction: "Tupelo, Mississippi." She says leaders in the region have spent a good deal of time studying the turnaround of Tupelo -- including visiting that region and bringing Tupelo expert Vaughn Grisham to Danville.

In the 1940s Tupelo was a stagnant farming town, before George McLean moved to town and helped organize the region for an economic turnabout that has Southside encouraged it can do the same thing in the 21st-century.

Grisham has said of Tupelo, "It begins with something that is very simple -- it has to begin with someone who has fire in their belly, who has the passion that this is going to get done." Southside has that in spades with Moran, and the many others she readily gives credit to -- including the business leaders who make up the Future of the Piedmont organization, and religious leaders such as the Rev. Larry Campbell of Danville's Bibleway Cathedral.

But it did take decades for the Tupelo turnaround to fully take place, and those in Southside are aware they face a multi-generational project.

Before leaving, I asked Moran what she wanted me to walk away knowing about Danville. Again she didn't hesitate: "About the determination, the commitment, the guts of Danville and this region." The town is brimming with all three. I barely noticed the factories on my way home.