
THE WASHINGTON POST
BENTONVILLE, Ark. - Wal-Mart's folksy, baseball cap-wearingfounder, Sam Walton, so despised public displays of wealth that,after his death in 1992, the billionaire's heirs decided to enshrinehis prized possession, a battered Ford pickup, behind a simplestorefront on the town square here.
But Walton's spirit of restraint is harder to find next door tothe museum at Fusion, a new fine-arts gallery that sells $2,500abstract paintings and $1,200 urns. Or at the nearby Landers Hummerdealership, crowded with $62,000 sport-utility trucks. Or insideShadow Valley, a gated community where four-bedroom houses fetch $1million.
The hard-nosed retailing tactics of Wal-Mart Stores Inc. havetransformed communities across the country, but none more so than inits own back yard. Benton County, once a sedate backwater, ismorphing into a swanky oasis in the middle of the Ozarks.
Wal-Mart's unchallenged dominance in American retailing - it sellsabout 30 percent of many household consumables - has persuaded scoresof suppliers to open satellite offices around its headquarters toensure their products remain on the chain's coveted shelves.
The result is an unprecedented migration of high-paid executivesto the northwest corner of Arkansas - professionals from amenity-rich cities like New York, San Francisco, Atlanta and Miami, whobring not only six-figure salaries, but an appetite for Jaguars,sushi, pet day-care centers, Gucci shoes and Chanel sunglasses.
Every week or so a new retailer, restaurant or spa sprouts up and,seemingly overnight, a county synonymous with a purveyor of cheapsocks, dolls and televisions is earning a reputation for luxuriousliving.
Until recently, being dispatched to a supplier's Wal-Mart officewas a dreaded assignment - two years of eating at a nearby Applebee'sand shopping at, well, Wal-Mart. "Nobody wanted to do it," said RonJohnson, who runs the Wal-Mart office for Walt Disney Co.'s consumerproducts division. "That's not a problem anymore. So much haschanged."
Wal-Mart has produced a fair share of millionaires, but Walton'srigid code of humility - even top executives stay at Holiday Inn whentraveling on the company dime - remains deeply ingrained in thecompany's culture, discouraging conspicuous consumption.
Wal-Mart's suppliers, however, honor no such vow of modesty.
In Rogers, southeast of Bentonville, nattily dressed executivesfrom Kellogg Co. and Colgate-Palmolive Co. sip lattes and lunch oncold Thai salmon at the Market, a gourmet grocery store that offerssushi-making lessons. Up the street, at Murphy's Jewelry, the latestVersace fashion show flickers on a flat-panel television and $100,000necklaces glimmer from behind a glass case.
Jeff Collins, an economist at the University of Arkansas's SamWalton School of Business, said the thousands of suppliers who havemoved to the region are "trying to recreate the world they knew backhome, wherever that was, and they have the money to do it."
From 1990 to 2000, Benton County's population jumped 57 percent,to 153,406 from 97,499, while the average household income rose to$40,281 from $26,021, according to census data.
Once here, suppliers demand the life they left behind - and, ifthey cannot find it, they build it. Lou McCleese, a logistics expertfor Johnson & Johnson's Wal-Mart office, plowed her savings intoFusion, the art gallery and supply store in downtown Bentonville.
When Phyllis Charette, the wife of a Johnson & Johnson executive,could not find an upscale women's apparel store, she started her own,All About Her.
Across the street from Wal-Mart's headquarters, several out-of-town Jewish suppliers have converted a three-room office into aprayer space, available whenever they come through town. A basket ofyarmulkes sits on a conference table and copies of the Old Testamentline a bookcase.
A synagogue, Benton County's first, recently opened with 37families, a large number of them transplants dispatched toBentonville by a Wal-Mart supplier.
Not everyone is overjoyed by the influx of high-rollers. Risinghousing prices have cost long-time Bentonville residents hundreds ofdollars in higher property taxes. "We used to have moderately pricedhomes here," said John Rickert, who has lived in Bentonville for 41years. "Now it's all exclusive, planned developments."
Gentrification is creating some powerful - and, to some localresidents, troubling - juxtapositions. In Bentonville, a GolfHeadquarters shop that uses high-tech computers to analyze a player'sswing opened next to the U.S. Army recruitment center. A contemporaryfurniture store selling pink leather club chairs opened across thestreet from a pawn shop.
Some residents are scrambling to slow the explosion of housing andretail complexes that are gobbling up farm land and clogging traffic.But most are just watching, with a mix of frustration and wonder, asthe little-known rural community that Sam Walton picked to start hiscompany four decades ago grows into a bustling global capital ofretail.
"People are tired of sitting in traffic, tired of waiting in linefor dinner at their favorite restaurant, tired of change, really,"economist Collins said. "But Wal-Mart isn't going anywhere. Youcannot put this genie back in the bottle."