My thoughts about Mrs. Sam Walton, New York and Southern Real Estate

New Yorkers had no idea one of the future richest men in America was driving that station wagon with Arkansas plates.

But that wasn’t the reason why they were staring…

New York Skyline

Mrs. Walton, widow of Walmart founder, [tag-tec]Sam Walton[/tag-tec] has died.


I’m reminded of an amusing story she told in an interview about visiting New York with her children.  That  was before the family had hit mega pay dirt with their stores.


They drove up to a theater in a station wagon with Arkansas plates that was full of kids.  It had been a long drive all the way from Benton and they were  there to see a Broadway play.


The New Yorkers  had no idea one of the future richest men in America was behind the wheel.

She laughed as she told it, but she said people stared.


“I guess we were not looking our best,” she had said.


The story really strikes home with me because we had much of the same experiences  every time we visited New York when I was little.


We would drive  to Manhattan in a Buick or Oldsmobile with Tennessee tags and we were often treated less than kindly.  The War Between the States was only 100 years removed and we still  took it all very  personally.


Now I know that’s the way many big cities really are.  That may be part of their charm, if you can call it that.


But why are lots of people are now moving southward?


Climate and opportunities.New York Taxi


Which brings me back to [tag-self]real estate[/tag-self].  The southeast is a very good area  of the country to [tag-ice]invest[/tag-ice] in now and I believe it will be for many decades to come. 


You’re getting that straight from a southerner who is not particularly  pleased about that.


(We  want to keep good deals for ourselves). 


But thanks to a picture perfect April afternoon in Nashville, I’m feeling  generous.  Take my advice and  watch closely  what’s going on below the Mason Dixon Line. 


By the way,  I don’t know how Sam Walton drove his  station wagon around Manhattan, but my Dad could race with the best of  the taxis, much to my mother’s horror. 



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