Imagine a place where Minnie Mouse is replaced by a giant Bible, and the "Main Street" looks like a Victorian postcard where nobody ever swears or drinks a beer. In the mid-1980s, that wasn't a weird fever dream. It was a 2,300-acre reality in Fort Mill, South Carolina.
The Jim Bakker amusement park, officially known as Heritage USA, was once the third most popular theme park on the planet. Honestly, that sounds impossible now. But back then, only Disney World and Disneyland saw more foot traffic. Nearly six million people a year flocked to this "Christian Disneyland" to see Tammy Faye’s eyelashes in person and slide down a 163-foot water slide called the Typhoon.
It was massive. It was glittering. And it fell apart so fast it’ll make your head spin.
The Rise of a Holy Empire
Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker weren't just preachers; they were the ultimate 80s power couple. They ran the PTL (Praise The Lord) Club, a TV ministry that brought in hundreds of millions of dollars. But Jim had a vision that went way beyond a television studio. He wanted a destination.
Heritage USA opened in 1978. It wasn't just a couple of swings and a chapel. We’re talking about a full-blown resort complex with:
- A 500-room luxury hotel (The Heritage Grand)
- A massive water park
- A shopping mall designed to look like a quaint turn-of-the-century town
- A "Upper Room" prayer center modeled after the site of the Last Supper
- State-of-the-art TV studios where the Bakkers filmed their show
People loved it. Families who felt uncomfortable at "secular" parks found a haven here. You could get a burger at the world’s largest Wendy’s (housed in a castle, naturally) and then go watch a passion play. It felt safe. It felt wholesome.
But behind the scenes, the math wasn't mathing.
The "Lifetime Partner" Trap
Here is where the Jim Bakker amusement park started to crumble. To fund his ever-expanding dreams—including a 21-story hotel tower—Bakker started selling "Lifetime Partnerships."
Basically, you’d give $1,000 to the ministry, and in return, you’d get three free nights at the hotel every year for the rest of your life. It sounded like a steal. Thousands of people, many on fixed incomes or dipping into their life savings, sent in their checks.
The problem? Bakker sold roughly 160,000 of these partnerships.
The hotel only had 500 rooms.
If every partner actually tried to use their stay, the waitlist would have been decades long. It was a classic Ponzi-style shell game. He was using the money from new "partners" to pay the operating bills of the park rather than actually finishing the construction he promised.
Scandal, Sex, and a Giant Slide
The end didn't come quietly. In 1987, the world found out about a 15-minute encounter Bakker had with a church secretary named Jessica Hahn years earlier. It wasn't just the affair; it was the "hush money" paid out of ministry funds to keep her quiet.
Once that thread was pulled, the whole sweater unraveled.
The Charlotte Observer started digging into the books and found a mess of double-accounting and private jets. Jim resigned. Jerry Falwell, another famous televangelist, took over to try and save the park from bankruptcy. In one of the most iconic (and surreal) moments in 80s TV history, Falwell went down the park’s giant water slide in a full suit just to prove he was "all in" on saving the place.
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It didn't work. By 1989, Jim Bakker was in prison for fraud and conspiracy. That same year, Hurricane Hugo slammed into South Carolina and ripped through the park, dealing a literal death blow to the already bankrupt property.
What’s Left in 2026?
If you drive through Fort Mill today, you can still see the ghosts.
The Heritage Grand Hotel still stands, though it’s been rebranded and is now run by MorningStar Ministries. The "Main Street" shops are mostly offices now. But the most haunting part is the Heritage Tower. That 21-story hotel that Bakker was building with those $1,000 donations? It sat as a rotting, empty concrete shell for over 30 years.
As of early 2026, the saga of the tower might finally be ending. After years of legal battles with York County, there’s a "fix it or flip it" ultimatum in place. Most of the original park—the water slides, the campgrounds, the train—is long gone, replaced by suburban housing developments and subdivisions. People literally live in houses built on top of where the "Typhoon" water slide used to be.
Why Heritage USA Matters Now
The story of the Jim Bakker amusement park isn't just about a failed business. It’s a cautionary tale about the intersection of faith and "the hustle." It proved that there was a massive market for religious tourism, paving the way for modern attractions like the Ark Encounter in Kentucky.
But it also left thousands of people heartbroken and broke.
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If you're interested in exploring what's left, you can still visit the Upper Room (it was restored and is quite peaceful) or stay at the hotel, which still retains some of that over-the-top 80s architecture.
Next Steps for History Buffs:
Check out the York County museum archives if you want to see the original blueprints—they are wild. If you're visiting the area, stick to the public roads; much of the old park land is now private residential property, and the locals are (understandably) tired of "urban explorers" poking around their backyards looking for Tammy Faye’s old makeup kits.