When Tennessee’s mountainous counties of
McMinn, Monroe, and Polk were selected to
participate in the National Trust for
Historic Preservation’s Heritage Tourism
Initiative (HTI) in 1990, regional leaders and
activists were excited about the possibility
of developing the region economically, but
there were challenges that loomed as large
as the mountains that cradled these rural
communities.
In 1990, in this area called the Tennessee Overhill—so
named for the 18th-century Cherokee towns located over the mountains
from the Carolina colonies—there was a distinct air of
provincialism, a keep-to-ourselves mentality in which one jurisdiction
lacked trust in another. And there was a pervasive lack of respect
for tourism as an economic development tool. No one really understood
what heritage or cultural tourism meant. They couldn’t
make the connection between their dilapidated industrial heritage
structures and typically revered historic homes and monuments.
Nor did they consider that there might be a connection between
seemingly distinct types of tourists: recreational versus heritage.
The few museums and historic sites that did exist as destinations
were poorly marketed. What most of the communities saw when they
looked at themselves were economically distressed company towns
or
agricultural has-beens with little to offer in the way of economic
development—much less heritage tourism.
Yet obvious assets were hidden in plain view. There all along,
were the remnants of industrial revolution and
evolution, from the Cherokee fur-trading days to the coming of
gold and copper miners. From the advancement
of technology that came in the guise of smoke-spewing iron behemoths
on tracks, to the great factories that
produced iron products and textiles. From loggers who felled
vast acres of trees to the engineers who dammed
rivers to harness hydroelectric power. Having escaped the urban
renewal craze of the 1960s, thanks again to the
rugged terrain, the Overhill ran thick with historic, yet abandoned,
Victorian storefronts, old factories, mines,
and worker villages. All of these traces of human life in Southern
Appalachia were there, dusted over with years
of neglect and disuse, but there, ready for rediscovery and reuse.
“Traditionally, tourism and development in the Tennessee
Overhill had focused on the natural environment versus the cultural
and built environment. But all of these things can contribute
to economic improvement and an enhanced visitor experience. That’s
what we set out to help them discover,” explains Cheryl
Hargrove, former HTI director.
What wasn’t in ready supply was a plan of cooperation
to shake off the decades of
indifference. But one was in the offing and it helped turn this
region around a corner
into modern heritage tourism where economic recovery and sustainability
are not only
possible but doable.
“Many small communities are
fearful of being overshadowed by larger towns...
of losing their identity. Therefore, we structured the advisory
council so that every town and place, no matter how small,
had the same vote and the same power
as the larger towns. Overhill is committed to operating on
a level playing field.” — Linda Caldwell, executive
director, Tennessee Overhill Heritage Association
When Tennessee’s mountainous counties of
McMinn, Monroe, and Polk were selected to
participate in the National Trust for
Historic Preservation’s Heritage Tourism
Initiative (HTI) in 1990, regional leaders and
activists were excited about the possibility
of developing the region economically, but
there were challenges that loomed as large
as the mountains that cradled these rural
communities. 
Yet obvious assets were hidden in plain view. There all along,
were the remnants of industrial revolution and
evolution, from the Cherokee fur-trading days to the coming of
gold and copper miners. From the advancement
of technology that came in the guise of smoke-spewing iron behemoths
on tracks, to the great factories that
produced iron products and textiles. From loggers who felled
vast acres of trees to the engineers who dammed
rivers to harness hydroelectric power. Having escaped the urban
renewal craze of the 1960s, thanks again to the
rugged terrain, the Overhill ran thick with historic, yet abandoned,
Victorian storefronts, old factories, mines,
and worker villages. All of these traces of human life in Southern
Appalachia were there, dusted over with years
of neglect and disuse, but there, ready for rediscovery and reuse.
“Traditionally, tourism and development in the Tennessee
Overhill had focused on the natural environment versus the cultural
and built environment. But all of these things can contribute
to economic improvement and an enhanced visitor experience. That’s
what we set out to help them discover,” explains Cheryl
Hargrove, former HTI director.
