Tourism in the Red River Gorge Cannot Save All of Eastern Kentucky
My father urged his old Dodge truck into the dark abyss of Nada Tunnel, built in the early 1900s as a keyhole to the virgin timber of the forest beyond. In the wake of the 2008 recession, my parents accepted a six month contract to manage cabins in the Red River Gorge hoping to find new direction and purpose in life. We emerged from the gaping mouth of the tunnel into the brilliance beyond—cliffs high above and great trees as far as the eye could see. The beauty of the place became our livelihood, and we’ve never left.
Tourism can be, and is, an incredible asset. Too often, however, tourism becomes an uncontrollable beast commodifying and consuming communities and places alike.
One such example of this is evident in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Jessica Amason, a scholar of anthropology at Central Washington University, observes that what remains in the wake of mass-scale-commercial-tourism is not prosperity, but something akin to despair. “The result is a new type of poverty not usually associated with Appalachia, where abandoned amusement parks sit decaying and lifeless, and once-prosperous motels become halfway houses for Gatlinburg's severely underpaid workforce,” Amason warns.
In 2013 the Kentucky Chamber of Commerce appointed a task force of bankers and businessmen to address the Eastern Kentucky “coal collapse.” Down from an all-time high of 23,067 jobs in the EKY coal industry in 1990, only 9,277 jobs remained.
A gargantuan crisis called for an equally large solution. The task force commissioned a study from the international engineering firm AECOM to, in the words of Charles Booth, then chairman of the Chamber, “Tell us if there could be a well-planned Gatlinburg in Eastern Kentucky.” Mass-scale-commercial-tourism was the vehicle the task force settled on to bring the region out of disparity.
In 2019, the task force was awarded $500,000 from coal severance tax with a matching grant from the state to develop the project. Yet not, as one would expect, in the coal fields where the tax was sourced, but in the RRG, an already thriving area of tourism and small business with an all-time low unemployment rate of 4% as of 2021.
The short-sightedness of this strategy is multifaceted. First, the solution fails to match the size of the issue. Even if officials could catalyze the Gorge region into a “well planned modern Gatlinburg,” it fails to address the loss of 13,790 coal jobs with untold associated economic loss in EKY. At best, it would force a few Eastern Kentuckians to move their lives to the Gorge for seasonally fluctuating, low-paying service jobs一a far cry from meaningful careers. Secondly, mass-scale-commercial-tourism fails to provide a viable, stable economic path forward, even in one specific region. The real economic gain goes to financial stakeholders outside of the communities while the people and the place fall prey to market demand. The project marches on.
The mass-scale-commercial-tourism approach, though well-meant, is ultimately misplaced. A new solution is needed to address the economic crisis of EKY.
Dispersed tourism provides such a key. Responsible carrying-capacity based tourism could serve as an engine for revitalizing community and place in the entire region. Instead of one large resort owned by wealthy out-of-town stakeholders, more beneficial would be thousands of small businesses owned and run by local community members providing a meaningful, viable livelihood. Like the Kentucky Bourbon Trail, there is great potential for regions devoted to local specialties such as music, ecology, cuisine, horse trails, and more. The possibilities are exciting and endless.
The Gorge can serve as a model of what other parts of EKY might become, each unique and fantastic in their own ways, but the Gorge itself cannot be the salvation of the region. The Gorge is dearly beloved by visitors and community members alike. Let’s work together now to give EKY a real chance to recover and thrive, and keep the Gorge brilliant and beautiful.