It’s summertime in Music City.
Pedal taverns are pedaling, guitars are picking, and the kids are out of school. Swimming, boating, baseball, ice cream, and even soccer— aside from a little bit of heat and humidity, what’s not to like?
For me, summers were always my favorite time of the year. That is, until the infamous summer of 1997.
Yes, that's right. Longtime Nashvillians know exactly what I'm talking about.
It was 1997 when our beloved Opryland theme park was closed and replaced by a mall. For anyone here who grew up going to Opryland USA, the decision to close the park felt like nothing less than an apocalypse. No more cooling off on the Flume Zoom (also known as the log ride), no more screaming on the Screamin’ Delta Demon or the Wabash Cannonball, no more getting soaked on the Grizzly River Rampage, and no more leisurely drives on the Tin Lizzies.
Music on the Show Boat, visits to the Angle Inn, funnel cakes, and Roy Acuff sightings—the list goes on. Just like that, the centerpiece of Nashville’s summer for locals and tourists alike was no more.
No one really understood why this happened, and 25 years later most of us natives are still carrying around some summer resentment. Why would anyone choose to replace America’s most famous music theme park with—of all things—a mall?
Gaylord, the company that owned Opryland was under new leadership, and they claimed the park wasn’t profitable. Their vision at the time was to get into the “shoppertainment” business and they felt that tearing down the theme park in favor of a mall would be a good business decision.
Bud Wendell, the legendary former CEO of Gaylord had left the company a few months before the decision was made said the move was the “dumbest thing I’ve ever seen,” and that the park was indeed making money. Wendell went on to say, “And the people that were responsible for it, I would think today would look back on it and say, yeah, it was a dumb, dumb decision.”
Hindsight is 20/20, but just imagine if we still had Opryland today. With Nashville’s growth, there’s no doubt Opryland would have been a massive economic boon to the city and that Gaylord would have made a fortune (just look at Dollywood.) If Opryland was still here, tourists would not only flock to the honky-tonk scene downtown but would bring their kids along to experience all the music, food, and rides at the park.
So, Wendell was right, closing Opryland might rank up there as one of the worst business decisions of all time.
I find myself thinking about Opryland not only every summer, but every time our company is thinking about making any significant change.