For Jim Burton, losing a cherished memento isn’t dampening his spirits, even after a significant loss.
On a bright afternoon in November 2018, we find ourselves in the parking area of what was once Hard Rock Park, a sprawling 50-acre amusement park dedicated to rock music, located just outside Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Earlier, Jim, a cheerful man with silver hair, a goatee, and glasses, who contributed to the park’s construction and later served as its technical director, proudly displayed a large architectural plan of the park from his pickup truck.
After our tour of the deserted grounds, the plan is gone – likely stolen. Jim, wearing his special “Hard Rock Park Founders” shirt, is clearly saddened by the theft, but quickly emphasizes that memories are far more valuable to him than physical objects.
“You can see the circle of life right here in the park,” he reflects, his eyes bright with emotion. “It began as nothing, just a dream. Then, the dream materialized. We witnessed its glory, the dream and the reality. And now, it’s reverting to ashes.”
Hard Rock Park, promoted as the world’s first rock and roll theme park, welcomed visitors in spring 2008. A colossal electric guitar was among the first sights, a 90-foot statue towering over the park’s central lagoon. This iconic structure became visible as guests passed bell towers at the entrance, inspired by the Hotel California album art. Looking down near the water, visitors would notice they were standing on the frets of another guitar, embedded in the pavement.
“It started out as nothing,” recalls Jim Burton, the park’s former technical director. “Nothing but a dream. And then the dream comes to life. We saw it in its glory, saw the dream, and the reality. And now it’s returning back to ashes.”
While the Gibson guitar statue was iconic, Led Zeppelin The Ride held the title of the park’s largest feature. This rollercoaster, approximately 150 feet tall, was a collaboration with the legendary band and synchronized with their 1969 hit, “Whole Lotta Love.” Riders boarded within a life-sized airship, and the song’s breakdown filled speakers as they ascended the lift hill. The famous guitar riff exploded as the ride plunged from the first loop.
Across the lagoon, a vast mural invited guests to Nights in White Satin: The Trip, a Moody Blues-themed dark ride intended to create a psychedelic, multi-sensory journey. Adjacent concert venues hosted big names like the Eagles, Kid Rock, and Charlie Daniels. As night fell, the lagoon transformed into a spectacular fountain and firework show set to Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody.” Lasers beamed from the guitar statue during Brian May’s guitar solo, followed by a kite adorned with sparklers circling the water during the song’s finale.
Ten years after its grand opening, walking through the park reveals no trace of giant guitars or musical rollercoasters. Under the bright November sky, the area is desolate, except for a lone fisherman on a lagoon bridge.
Weeds crack the pavement, and wild plants overtake the neglected flowerbeds. Occasional vandalism marks the site – crude swastikas on a walkway, a penis painted on a Beatles’ Abbey Road cover replica. Yet, nature is reclaiming the park. The fisherman is gone when I cross the bridge, but I spot his potential target: a massive grass carp swimming lazily in the green water.
Hard Rock Park’s initial valuation neared $400 million at its April 2008 launch. Barely five months later, coinciding with Lehman Brothers’ collapse and the global financial crisis, it declared bankruptcy and was sold for a mere $25 million. New owners rebranded and reopened it in 2009, but it closed permanently after one season.
“It was probably the biggest failure we have ever seen in our industry, in the shortest period of time,” notes Dennis Spiegel, a theme park expert.
Hard Rock Park’s journey from a baby-boomer vision to a lavish reality reflects the pre-financial crisis’ speculative frenzy. Its dramatic failure is a stark reminder of the consequences when expectations detach from reality.
“The old days of ‘build it and they will come’—they don’t exist,” emphasizes Dennis Spiegel, the theme park expert consulted after the park’s initial closure. “It was probably the biggest failure we have ever seen in our industry, in the shortest period of time.”
Hard Rock Park’s rapid expansion mirrored the excesses of a wild rock and roll party.
In 2000, Jon Binkowski, a 42-year-old Orlando entrepreneur, purchased a small ice rink theater near Myrtle Beach. Despite lacking music industry connections, he had extensive theme park experience, including overseeing entertainment at SeaWorld in the 80s and founding Renaissance Entertainment in 1989. The theater was part of the largely defunct Fantasy Harbour complex off Route 501. Binkowski renamed it the Ice Castle and launched shows starring skater Nancy Kerrigan.
“It’s easier to raise a hundred million than ten million,” states Steven Goodwin, Hard Rock Park’s former CEO.
Binkowski’s SeaWorld work was acclaimed, and Renaissance secured design contracts with Disney and Universal Studios. However, the Ice Castle struggled to attract visitors. He envisioned an adjacent amusement park to boost attendance and drafted plans. Initial funding was difficult until he met Steven Goodwin, a former Rank Group executive, who encouraged a larger vision.
“It’s easier to raise a hundred million than ten million,” Goodwin explained from North Carolina, where he now runs a vacation rental business. “Small investors get cautious about deploying modest amounts of capital. But if you have a quality product and show the potential for higher returns, money follows money.”
Goodwin, who became the park’s CEO, helped Binkowski broaden plans for “Fantasy Harbour park.” Initially, they considered a generic four-seasons theme for cost reasons. Investors deemed it bland, so Binkowski proposed a Hollywood movie theme with MGM Studios, but licensing costs proved too high.
Then, a new idea emerged. In the 90s, Rank Group had acquired Hard Rock, the rock-themed restaurant, hotel, and casino chain. Hard Rock had grown rapidly since its London cafe origins, expanding across North America, including Myrtle Beach. In 2002, Binkowski emailed Goodwin with the subject: “I’m not smoking anything, I swear.”
“Here’s my wacky thought,” he wrote in a presentation later shared at an industry conference. “What if we got Hard Rock to give us a license for a theme park?!… Call it Hard Rock Park […] The Nascar types would like it, the Bikers would like it, Families we already know love it…and even the Spring Breakers would visit the attraction.”
Goodwin had previously worked at Hard Rock after Rank’s acquisition, spending two years in Orlando as head of strategic development in the late 90s. He connected Binkowski with Hard Rock’s licensing department, who embraced the concept. A branding agreement was formed, and Binkowski and Goodwin assembled a team, including former Universal executive Felix Mussenden as COO. Later, the Seminole Tribe of Florida acquired Hard Rock from Rank. Goodwin convinced the less enthusiastic new owners to honor the park branding agreement.
Funding was the next major challenge. Local landowners and real estate investors contributed $25 million in land and $37 million cash for equity. However, Binkowski and Goodwin needed significantly more for construction. The year was 2006, the peak of the pre-crisis credit boom. They approached banks and fund managers and secured $320 million in construction financing within months.
Groundbreaking occurred in 2006, with guitar-shaped shovels used in front of a “Mount Rockmore” sand sculpture featuring Elvis, Lennon, Marley, and Hendrix. Binkowski’s “wacky” idea was becoming real.
“The whole thing exists because of this small little theater that he couldn’t make work,” notes Josh Young of Theme Park University. “The idea was to turn this theater and get it out of debt, and then all of a sudden, it ballooned from this small 25 million-dollar business to a 400 million-dollar budget.”
Myrtle Beach Sign Welcoming Visitors, Illustrating the City's Tourist-Driven Economy
Myrtle Beach thrives on tourism, hosting about 17 million visitors annually, vastly outnumbering its 33,000 local residents.
The South Carolina coast’s beaches and mild waters attract many, earning Myrtle Beach the “Redneck Riviera” nickname for its budget-friendly appeal. Golfers and bikers also frequent the area. Recently, sports events and the Carolina Country Music Festival have boosted its profile. Myrtle Beach is also among the East Coast’s fastest-growing cities, attracting retirees with its climate and low property taxes.
However, the city’s economy is heavily reliant on tourism, creating downsides. Locals cite traffic congestion, spring break crowds, and occasional violence during peak season, while winter months bring job scarcity and homelessness. “Dirty Myrtle” is a local nickname, referencing both drug and prostitution issues and polluted seawater.
Outside the deserted park in November, I met Brendan, a young North Carolinian who spends much time in Myrtle Beach with biker friends. As his friends performed wheelies, he described the city as socially challenging for young people.
“Tinder is a bitch down here,” he joked. “If you swipe during the summer, you’ll match with someone and then you’ll get a reply the next day and they’re like, 300 miles away. And then in the winter there’s just no one around.”
Despite not being a typical rock and roll hub, Myrtle Beach has a rich musical heritage: Beach Music. This genre, characterized by harmonies and R&B rhythms, emerged in Myrtle Beach as post-WWII tourism boomed.
Beach Music peaked in the 60s, with holidaymakers flocking to the Myrtle Beach Pavilion to see groups like The Temptations and The Four Tops and dance “The Shag.” The Pavilion, a dance hall, venue, and amusement park, became Beach Music’s epicenter. “It was where the kids made their pilgrimage,” recalls John Hook, a beach music DJ and historian. “It was the mecca.”
The movement faded in the 70s, attributed to social changes and rock music’s rising popularity. A resurgence in the late 70s shifted the scene to North Myrtle Beach, but the Pavilion remained spiritually central. When Burroughs & Chapin announced the Pavilion’s closure in 2006 due to financial reasons, it was seen as a bad omen for the local economy.
Myrtle Beach was already struggling. 1990s resort and golf course development outpaced demand, leading to business closures. By 2006, when Hard Rock Park construction began and the Pavilion closed, Myrtle Beach unemployment was already above the national average. Hook described the 2008 crash as “just the cherry on top.”
Overgrown and Neglected Area of Hard Rock Park, Showing the Deterioration of the Theme Park
Building a cutting-edge theme park in a struggling tourist town was inherently risky.
While stock markets reward future growth potential, debt investors prefer lending to businesses with proven revenue streams. In 2006, Binkowski and Goodwin borrowed heavily for Hard Rock Park, years before any revenue.
Hard Rock Park’s funding primarily came from a $305 million bond offering, structured by Deutsche Bank and Jefferies. Credit rating agencies labeled it “junk,” recognizing the park’s uncertain cash flow. However, this “junk” status meant minimal room for error; construction overruns or attendance shortfalls would jeopardize debt repayment.
Goodwin believed investors would accept these risks during the booming economy of 2006. Stocks were soaring, housing prices had risen for decades, and fund managers invested heavily in mortgage-backed bonds. Banks aggressively offered risky home loans, packaging them into bonds for investors, transferring risk for fees.
Goodwin anticipated attracting niche investors like hedge funds with high-risk tolerance. However, regulatory filings revealed that many lenders were large, conservative firms like BlackRock and Eaton Vance.
This drift towards riskier investments, termed “irrational exuberance” by economists, often precedes economic downturns. Steven Siesser of Lowenstein Sandler described investor behavior as a “feeding frenzy.”
Hard Rock Park's Deserted Grounds with Overgrown Vegetation and Decaying Structures
Hard Rock Park’s low credit rating stemmed from optimistic attendance projections. However, its cultural appeal was a major investor draw.
Baby boomers, raised on bands like The Rolling Stones and The Doors, were now part of the financial establishment. Their musical heroes had also matured, leading to collaborations like David Bowie’s “Bowie Bonds” and Sex Pistols credit cards. Hard Rock Park aimed to monetize this generational cultural phenomenon.
Binkowski, a boomer and rock fan, targeted fund managers his age, who shared his musical background and excitement for a Led Zeppelin rollercoaster.
“The big seller was always the music,” he explained. “We were a project that was supported by the baby boomers within the industry. That was our base.”
The Hard Rock brand provided legitimacy and tapped into a shared identity. The demographics of Hard Rock fans and finance professionals at the time overlapped significantly – white, male, and middle-aged.
“It’s highly likely that the investors who were looking at this park were white, male and middle-aged,” notes Margreet Papamichael of CLEAR Associates. “And Hard Rock fits perfectly with white middle-aged men. That’s where the brand likely resonates most.”
Close-up of Crumbling and Weathered Details at the Abandoned Hard Rock Park
Hard Rock itself didn’t invest in the project, but charged a licensing fee, granting creative freedom.
Dave Cobb of Thinkwell noted Hard Rock Park’s unique design would have been difficult under corporate constraints. “The license they got from Hard Rock was fairly unfettered,” he said. “It didn’t get caught in the corporate machine, and that allowed them to do some of these wildly creative ideas.”
Many ideas were provocative for a family attraction in conservative South Carolina. Beyond the psychedelic ghost train and carousel, subtle details raised eyebrows. The Life In The Fast Lane rollercoaster featured a sculpture of a pregnant woman with a baby inside making the “rock on” hand gesture. Restaurants included the “Eat Me” Diner and “The Cod Piece.” A rock-themed Michelangelo fresco tribute sparked blasphemy accusations.
Meticulous theming permeated every aspect. “Free air guitars” were offered near ticket booths. Bathroom mirrors had five-second playback delays. ATMs displayed rock song quotes about money. Even circuit boxes had electricity-themed lyrics.
However, fundamental business plan flaws existed. Marketing relied on gimmicks, like the Beatles’ Mystery Tour Bus promotional tour. The park’s TV ad was attitude-heavy but information-light. Marketing partnerships with local businesses were missed, ignoring Myrtle Beach’s regional tourism dynamics. Locals criticized the $50 ticket price and lack of discounts.
Josh Young argues management was blinded by their vision. “They were so convinced they had this slam-dunk of a park,” he said. “They overestimated what the brand was and what it could bring in. Even if the economy was doing okay, between their marketing and their pricing they would have had an uphill battle.”
The park’s adventurous theming, however, aided recruitment. A massive job fair attracted huge applicant numbers. “People lined up for hours to get in for interviews,” recalled former entertainer Shana Bury. “Everyone loved the concept—they loved the brand.”
Senior positions went to experienced outsiders, but many junior staff also relocated. La Vaar Willis, who moved from Virginia at 19 to be an area manager, envisioned a career. “I saw myself maybe making a career out of this.”
Former employees described a fun work environment, unlike typical theme parks. Piercings, tattoos, and wild hairstyles were accepted, even encouraged. Staff wore what they wanted with a Hard Rock Park shirt. “They wanted to show that we were all part of the show and our own character,” said operations manager Joshua Liebman.
Costumed entertainers had extravagant outfits, from palace guards in bearskin hats to Winston, a punk bulldog mascot. The Bear Metal Family, with KISS-inspired face paint, even had a theme song: “Goldilocks wants a pack that rocks!”
Workers embraced the park’s eccentricity. “I loved when I was at Hard Rock Park,” said former chef Yvonne Grissett. “You just don’t feel that at a lot of jobs. Most jobs, it’s just a job. Hard Rock was a life.”
Shana Bury Standing in Front of the Abandoned Hard Rock Park Grounds, Juxtaposed with a Hard Rock Cafe Sign
Hard Rock Park’s April 2008 grand opening drew crowds for Eagles and Moody Blues concerts. Theme park enthusiasts flocked to the Led Zeppelin coaster. Todd Davis, a season ticket holder, described it as “gliding on air.”
However, rollercoaster fans are limited, and big concerts are costly. Goodwin mentioned the Moody Blues gig cost $250,000. Soon after opening, struggles were evident. “You could tell by mid-summer,” said Bury. “Hardly anyone was coming in.”
Rollercoaster thrills rely on crowds; lines and anticipation enhance the adrenaline. Low attendance creates a negative feedback loop, explained consultant Papamichael: less excitement, shorter stays, and reduced spending. “Everything falls out of balance for a theme park the minute that length of stay isn’t there.”
Management revamped marketing mid-season, partnering locally and offering free tickets. Former employees noted some improvement, but it wasn’t enough. Operating hours were reduced, and layoffs began. Employees anticipated closure. Willis and coworkers visited job centers. “We saw the writing on the wall,” he said.
Brendan, a Biker at Hard Rock Park, Next to a Hard Rock Guitar Pick, Symbolizing the Park's Rock Theme
Behind the scenes, Goodwin negotiated with investors to restructure finances.
Borrowed money is repaid via operations or new debt. Hard Rock Park had depleted cash reserves, and meager earnings couldn’t cover existing debt, let alone more borrowing. Court filings showed $21 million income in 2008, insufficient to cover over $30 million in debt interest and supplier credit.
Struggling businesses often file Chapter 11 bankruptcy to reorganize debt while continuing operations. Goodwin initially sought more credit but opted for bankruptcy. On September 15, 2008, as he prepared filings, Lehman Brothers filed Chapter 11, signaling the housing bubble burst. Goodwin filed Hard Rock Park’s bankruptcy a week later, days before the US stock market’s biggest single-day drop.
The market collapse complicated restructuring. Business restructuring needs faith in turnaround potential and stakeholder willingness, both lacking for Hard Rock Park. The recession worsened attendance, and the credit crunch restricted lending. Hard Rock Park was risky in a boom; in the 2008 crisis, it had no chance.
“We couldn’t force people to come through the gate in the worst tourist market in 10 years, and we couldn’t force people to restructure at a time when pretty much no one was doing any investment,” Goodwin stated. “We were at the bottom of the totem pole.”
Restructuring hopes faded, and Hard Rock Park was put up for sale. In February 2009, new owners, including MT Development and initial equity backers, bought the park for $25 million, a tenth of its value months earlier.
To comply with court rulings, the park was rebranded “Freestyle Music Park” with generic theming. Led Zeppelin became Time Machine, Eagles’ ride became Iron Horse, and Nights in White Satin became Monstars of Rock. Reggae River Falls became Polly Nesian’s Splash Bash. Hard Rock merchandise was destroyed, including collector pins.
New management claimed the generic theme was more inclusive and family-friendly, pledging local business partnerships. Ticket prices were cut, discounts offered, and a kids’ section added. Former employees noted initially better attendance. Freestyle Music Park’s president, Steve Baker, declared it “here to stay.”
However, recession-hit consumers tightened budgets, and local incomes dropped. Attendance declined again. A legal battle with Hard Rock owners over intellectual property and supplier lawsuits ensued. In February 2010, Freestyle Music Park announced permanent closure.
Overgrown and Decaying Rollercoaster Tracks at the Abandoned Hard Rock Park
The park’s decline into dereliction was prolonged. Owners battled investors over debt and assets. A local Christian group tried crowdfunding to buy it for an education complex but failed. Four acres were sold to Medieval Times for horse grazing. Legal filings showed FPI MB LLC, Freestyle Park’s holding company, retained the rest.
In 2012, the park appeared in NBC’s Revolution, set in a post-apocalyptic world. Rides were still present but were gradually sold off. Smaller rides went to US parks, larger ones to Vietnam’s Sun World. The Led Zeppelin coaster became Dragon Park’s star attraction in Ha Long, retaining its airship loading area.
By 2015, the property was largely abandoned, with only a security guard. Teenagers and bikers frequented the site. Local developers considered a Chinese cultural village, but the deal failed.
In late 2018, Robert Guyton bought the site for $3.5 million. Locals speculated on uses from drive-in theaters to RV parks. As of early 2019, the site remained abandoned.
Aerial View of the Derelict Hard Rock Park Site, Showing the Extent of Abandonment
In The Big Short, fund managers assess market awareness of impending collapse at a Vegas shooting range. Similarly, Hard Rock Park’s creators ignored dissenting voices.
“They said it couldn’t be done. So we did it anyway,” Jon Binkowski wrote in a park gift shop book.
Financial backers prioritized the concept over market realities. Investors, like those mesmerized by mortgage bonds, overlooked underlying risks. As the saying goes, “There is no such thing as bad risk, only bad pricing”—risks were miscalculated in both cases.
Borrowing for construction is common, but relies on market demand. Hard Rock Park’s untested concept epitomized pre-crisis boom mentality. As William Welnholfer noted in 2009, such financing was only possible in the 2005-2006 environment without “reasonable assurance” of business plan success.
A decade post-crisis, the economy rebounded, with tech sectors attracting billions. Debt investors are again drawn to hype, even without positive cash flow, in companies like Uber, Tesla, and WeWork. Like Hard Rock Park, they appeal to emotions investors should resist.
Economists suggest the post-crisis expansion has peaked. Housing markets are slowing, and companies warn of lower profits. Market volatility in late 2018 reflects these concerns, alongside trade tensions and computer trading. This triggers memories of the 2008 crash, suggesting risk underpricing.
Jim Burton Standing Outside the Gates of the Abandoned Hard Rock Park, Reflecting on its Past
Weeks after visiting Hard Rock Park, aerial photos revealed a “blast crater,” a physical scar of the 2008 market implosion, reminding us of lingering recession impacts.
Perhaps it’s simpler, more rock and roll. Before leaving that November day, Jim Burton offered a final thought. “Here’s a phrase that I never really cared for, but I’ve heard so much,” he began with a bow.
“It is what it is,” he concluded. “And it was a great time.”
By Will Caiger-Smith & Will Warasila
