“Don’t listen to anything that old man says.” “Oh, that old guy will get you good with all his lies.”
Playful heckles and laughter were non-stop as I settled onto the front porch of Silver Dollar City’s Maintenance & Construction office, ready to pick the brain of a true legend on the team. For 50 seasons of summer rushes and quiet winters, Lee Walden has been right here… with his “guys.”
“Us old-timers have been through a whole bunch together,” he smiled. “Being here with them, picking on each other as we get the work done—that makes 50 years go by in a blink.”
It’s hard for Lee to fathom that five decades have rolled by like the fog that fills the park’s hills and hollers each morning when he arrives by 6. He’s witnessed the park grow and evolve with new rides, new shows and generations of visitors. No matter how the City around him changed, his love for this special place and its people has never wavered.
Born and raised in the Ozarks, Lee’s family farm wasn’t far from The City. Like many farm kids, he always had a tool in hand, tinkering with something. After graduating from Reeds Spring High School, he attended Votech and landed a construction job.
“That only lasted about six months,” he laughs. “Yeah, because you can’t hold down a job,” hollers one of Lee’s work buddies from the parking lot.
At 17, Lee left housebuilding behind and took a job at Silver Dollar City—never imagining this would be where he’d lay down roots. He started as a street sweeper,
even though there weren’t many streets to sweep back then. He moved on to running trash barrels and did a bit of everything before landing on the Maintenance & Construction team.
In those early days, Lee was a jack-of-all-trades—one day patching fences, the next welding gates or working on rides. No job was too big or too small. His hardworking hands, now rough from years of labor, earned him the respect of colleagues. He became a steady heartbeat in the department, eventually rising to senior craftsman.
“And that title has nothing to do with being a senior citizen,” he jokes. “Oh yes, it does,” shouts another of his guys as he passes by.
But Lee’s impact goes far beyond fixing what’s broken. He’s the guardian of memories and the keeper of so many stories. The first one he recalls is the time a black snake fell from a tree onto his back.
“Yep, that nearly gave me a heart attack,” he laughs. Just then, another worker walks up. “Speaking of snakes, what are you talking to this old snake for?”
That easy camaraderie with his team is what Lee calls “the invisible force.”
He says it’s perfectly okay that folks don’t stop to think about all the work behind the scenes.
“We’re from the wrong side of the tracks over here in our building. Once we cross those Fire In The Hole tracks, we just do our work and try to stay out of the spotlight.”
To his dismay, the spotlight will shine bright on Lee this July at the annual Service Pin ceremony, where he will be honored for 50 years of service with a dogwood tree planted in his honor behind the park’s Wilderness Church.
“I’ll be uncomfortable getting that attention! You know, I’ve seen a lot of great folks come and go through my time here. Tremendous wisdom leaves when one of us does. I’m not done tinkering just yet, so perhaps I can help bring up some of these younger guys so they can reach 50 years. I learned a long time ago that if you stop, watch, and listen, you can learn a lot from old guys—even crazy ones like me.”
As Public Relations Manager for the Silver Dollar City Company, she is eager to tap into her journalism background to hunt down “heart tugs” to write about—those stories that celebrate…
