Millionaires vs. Billionaires, Part I

I’m very lucky – I live in two of the most privileged parts of the world. Gig Harbor, Washington juts into western Puget Sound about 30 miles south of Seattle. In the early parts of the last century, immigrants from southeastern Europe (mainly Croatians) discovered the protected eponymous bay, ideal for their nascent fishing fleet. Mid century, a mile-long suspension bridge joined the isolated peninsula to Tacoma, across the Narrows. Now, we are a growing suburban haven. Not necessarily super-rich, yet almost everyone here enjoys the fruits of a slowly growing pie. Acre upon acre of mini-mansions, filled with self-satisfied survivors of an American Dream. And everyone has health insurance.

Really. That’s one of our claims to fame: I live in a census tract which has the lowest rate of people lacking health insurance in Washington State. Surely a sign of how well-off we are in 2015. But. luckily, while we have a high proportion of millionaire families, I doubt we have any billionaires in our midst. And that’s a good thing, because the super rich would surely set off a stink bomb of jealousy in our little fantasy world.

I know that, because the other fantasy land I live in – Aspen, the upper Roaring Fork valley in Colorado – is awash with all levels of wealth. Aspen has always attracted the conspicuously wealthy. After all, Aspen got its start as a silver mining boom town. Men bought holes in the ground, dug nuggets out, and found themselves with excess coin in their pockets. The Jerome Hotel and the Wheeler Opera house, along with the rail corridors leading out of town, testify to those who saw fit to spread their wealth around, making amenities available to their community.

After a few quiet decades, the town blossomed again in  the 1940s and 50s. The same mountain which had disgorged so much silver wealth, again brought money into town, Skiers from Austria and Switzerland discovered the reliable white gold which fell every winter. New ski lifts were built, the airport expanded, Hollywood and other celebrities longed to be seen on the slopes. Walter Paepke, a Chicago industrialist, envisioned an Athens in the Alps; the Aspen Institute and Music School he engendered brought the cultural and intellectual elite into town.

Over the past 60 years, Aspen and Pitkin County have consistently designed themselves to be as attractive as possible to those with the twin desires to be seen by others of their ilk, and to be hidden from those without the wherewithal to hide. “Buy land; they’re not making any more of it,” applies in all its rigor here. The valley is surrounded by dedicated wilderness areas. Most building sites come with a view of the mountains or forest. So, people who collect houses in the most privileged enclaves on earth have put Aspen on their list.

A local journalist investigated the density of wealth in our community. He found about 1600 people world-wide with a net worth of $1,000,000,000 or more. Among them, at least 50 have a connection to Aspen of either home or business. Now, that’s not really very many in the grand scheme of things. For one thing, with multiple places they can and need to be, they’re not around very much. But when they are here, they tend to act as they do everywhere else; accustomed to getting their way, with no restrictions on how their needs are met.

Usually, when this happens, the rest of the population has no choice but to go along. Most people lack the resources, skills, and connections to fight back against all that money. But, in Aspen, in addition to the high concentration of billionaires, we’re basically a town of millionaires. Small example: it’s not unusual for publicly subsidized housing for middle class workers to be “restricted” to those earning less than $120,000 a year, and cost up to $450,000. “Free market” homes routinely go for 7 or 8 figures. People who can afford that sum for housing are pretty much used to getting their own way as well. So, in the last 15-20 year, “Billionaire vs Millionaire” wars have broken out in the valley of the Roaring Fork.

(To be Cont’d)

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