The hotels are staffed by local mountain people, and they have pride and friendliness, clear down to the lowliest charwoman, that wouldn’t permit them to do a shoddy job.
Tourists support almost every one of the 1300 people in Gatlinburg. Nobody is out of work who wants to work. Even the people out in the hills live off the tourists, through their weaving, basketry and woodwork.
We have been in most of the “faddy” places and big tourist centers in America. In not one of them have we seen the plums fall into the laps of the old-time residents of the place. Gatlinburg is the only exception.
Why, it’s just as though fame and millions of people were suddenly to descend upon our crossroads in Indiana. And instead of financiers from Chicago grabbing everything, my Dad would put up a fine hotel, and Harry Bales would build a three-story gift shoppe, and Doc Sturm would create six big tourist courts, and Claud Lockeridge would own all restaurants, filling stations and sight-seeing busses. And we’d all get richer than hell.
Fame, please come to Indiana and make us farmers rich.
GATLINBURG, Tenn., Oct. 31, 1940—
Everyone who has been to Hawaii knows about “The Big Five.” How these five old families control most everything in Hawaii. It is one of the tightest, and also in my opinion one of the best monopolies in the world.
Well, Gatlinburg is just like Hawaii in that respect. There are five leading families here. Four of these families hold the reins. The fifth, although old and numerous and doing all right, could not be considered a member of the “control.”
In Gatlinburg it could be called “The Big Four.” Let me tell you about these families.