The Biltmore: The Youngest Vanderbilt Built America's Largest House and Died With $11,000 in Stocks

In 1885 the richest man in America, William Henry Vanderbilt, died and left about $200 million. His two oldest sons got about $65 million each. His youngest, George, got about $10 million, and then built the biggest house in America: the Biltmore, 250 rooms on 125,000 acres in North Carolina. When George died 29 years later, the papers said he left $50 million. A historian put his personal estate at about $900,000, with just $11,000 in stocks and bonds. Today the house pulls in about 1.4 million visitors a year, and George's family still owns it.

This is a solo episode: no guest and no net worth breakdown. Daniel does a full financial autopsy of the Biltmore: what it cost to build (and why inflation math gets it wrong), what it cost to run, how the family sold off piece after piece to hold onto the house, and how a grandson who quit banking turned a money pit into a business.

Along the way, Moneywise guests like Hank and Neil Patel show up with their own versions of the Biltmore problem, and the episode ends with three numbers to run before you buy any house.

Below you'll find my summary of the episode along with the entire transcript.

And by the way...this podcast, the concept of it came from Hampton. Hampton is a private, highly vetted community for high net worth founders started by Sam Parr. Members range from companies doing 3-5 million in revenue all the way up to hundreds of millions. The reason we started this podcast is because there are amazing conversations about money and growing companies that typically happen only behind closed doors, and we thought it would be awesome to share all of this information. If you're a CEO, founder, or business owner, check this out. New Moneywise episodes come out weekly.

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Now, below are the notes and the full transcript.

The Numbers

• The fortune: Cornelius Vanderbilt left about $105M in 1877 (~$3.5B today). His son William Henry roughly doubled it to $200M by 1885 (~$6–7B today).
• The split: the two oldest sons got about $65M each. George, the youngest of eight, got about $10M.
• The land: about 700 parcels, 50+ farms, at least five cemeteries and an entire town, for 125,000 acres (~195 square miles; Washington, D.C. is 68).
• The house: 250 rooms, 35 bedrooms, 43 bathrooms, 65 fireplaces, a 70-foot banquet hall ceiling, a 70,000-gallon indoor pool. About 1,000 workers for six years. Opened Christmas Eve 1895.
• The cost: estimates ran $3–6M; most land on about $5M. That's ~$200M with inflation, but as a share of the 1895 economy (~$16B) it's closer to $9B today. It took a third to half of George's inheritance, before land and furniture.
• The brothers' summer houses: The Breakers, reported at $7–12M. Marble House, reported at $11M, with $7M of it on marble.
• Running it: about 80 servants. The Secretary of Agriculture said George was spending more than Congress appropriated for his department.
• The estate at death (1914): newspapers guessed $50M. A historian counted about $900K in personal estate, with just $11,000 in stocks and bonds (excluding real estate and a $5M trust).
• The sell-off: about 86,000 acres to the US Forest Service at ~$5 an acre ($433K total), now the heart of Pisgah National Forest. The estate shrank from 125,000 acres to about 8,000.
• Today: ~1.4M visitors a year (up from 64,000 in 1960), a couple thousand employees, adult tickets around $80–90 (up from $2 in 1930). The county assesses the house at about $157M. Still privately owned by George's descendants.

The Poorest Vanderbilt Son Builds the Biggest House

George was nothing like his brothers. Cornelius II ran the railroads; George read books and collected about 23,000 of them. In 1888, single and in his twenties, he fell for the mountains around Asheville and started buying land through an agent so locals wouldn't realize a Vanderbilt was behind it. By the time he was done he owned 125,000 acres, and he had a tenth or less of what each of his oldest brothers had.

He hired the two biggest names in American design: Richard Morris Hunt for the house and Frederick Law Olmsted, the designer of Central Park, for the land. Nothing was out there, so George built the supply chain himself: three miles of private railroad, a brick kiln making up to 32,000 bricks a day, a woodworking factory, Indiana limestone and Italian marble. Thanks to his friend Thomas Edison, the house had electricity from day one, plus an Otis elevator, forced-air heat, fire alarms and a call-bell system. "No one in the entire world had ever built something like this."

Why Inflation Math Gets the Cost Wrong

Nobody knows the exact cost, because George never said. Accounts vary by millions of dollars, and most estimates settle around $5M. Run that through inflation and you get roughly $200M, which Daniel points out "actually sounds a little bit cheap for the biggest house in America" next to today's Los Angeles spec homes.

The better lens is share of the economy. In 1895 the entire US economy was about $16B a year, so $5M was about three-hundredths of a percent of it. The same slice today is something like $9B. "It was not a nice house. It was a $9 billion project that one guy decided to go out and figure out how to do." And by his family's standards it wasn't even extravagant: his brothers' summer houses cost more and were used a few weeks a year.

The Build Was the Cheapest Part

Running the house and stables took about 80 servants, and the land was a project of its own. George wanted the estate to pay for itself through farms, a dairy, hogs, poultry and timber. He hired Gifford Pinchot, who went on to run the US Forest Service, and then Carl Schenck, who started America's first forestry school on the property in 1898. Great for the country, and wildly expensive.

The pay-for-itself plan never worked. Historians say George spent more than his income every year and dipped into principal to cover it. When the economy turned in 1902 the family closed the house and went to Europe, and by 1908 he was cutting costs and looking for land to sell.

Moneywise guests know a smaller version of this problem. Hank, an anonymous guest with a 24,000-square-foot house, described move-in day as "We looked at each other like, 'What did we just do?'" His repairs alone ran $50–60K a year, and miscellaneous costs came to about $10K a month.

Selling the Estate to Save the House

George married Edith in 1898. In 1912 they were booked on the Titanic and switched to the Olympic at the last minute. In March 1914, at 51, he died after an emergency appendectomy. The papers guessed a $50M estate; historian Edwin Hoyt called those "reckless newspaper estimates." His count: about $900K in personal estate. A $5M trust went to their 13-year-old daughter, Cornelia. Edith got $250K, the income from a $1M trust, and the job of keeping the Biltmore alive.

So she sold: 86,000 acres to the Forest Service at about $5 an acre, the woodworking business in 1917, and Biltmore Village in 1921. From the outside it looked like the Vanderbilts were losing the Biltmore. In practice, she was selling pieces of it to keep the house. "In Hampton, when somebody's about to buy a big house, the first questions from the other founders aren't about bedrooms. They're, 'What does it cost to run, and what happens to it in a bad year?'"

The Grandson Who Ran It Like a Business

During the Great Depression, Asheville asked Cornelia and her husband John Cecil to open the house to tourists. The family needed the money, so in March 1930 the doors opened at $2 a ticket. In 1942 the National Gallery of Art secretly shipped 62 paintings and 17 sculptures there to protect them from a possible attack on Washington.

The turn came in 1960, when Cornelia's son William Cecil quit banking in New York to run the estate with one rule: the house pays for itself, no government money. Visitors went from about 64,000 a year to over 800,000 by 1999. He planted grapes in 1971, turned the old dairy barn into a winery that opened in 1985, and added hotels, restaurants and Christmas events. Today it draws about 1.4 million visitors a year and the family still owns it and pays property taxes like anyone else.

Shirtsleeves to Shirtsleeves, Reversed

The case against George is easy: he built a house his fortune couldn't carry. And the Vanderbilts are the textbook case of "shirtsleeves to shirtsleeves in three generations." Taylor, a past Moneywise guest, describes it as generation one creating value, generation two managing it, and generation three becoming "default value consumers." Arthur Vanderbilt, a descendant who wrote about the family's fall, says that at a 1973 family reunion there wasn't a single millionaire in the room. Almost every Vanderbilt mansion on Fifth Avenue was torn down.

The Biltmore survived, but not because George was smart with it. His grandson stopped treating it like a house and ran it like a business. In this family, the third generation went back to creating. "The house isn't the mistake. The house that only costs money is the mistake."

Three Numbers to Run Before You Buy a House

1. What does it cost to own for a year? Forget the price. Add up taxes, insurance, utilities, staff, the pool guy and repairs. That annual number is the one to focus on.
2. Divide it by what your money earns without you. Investment income, rent, whatever comes in if you stopped working tomorrow. If the only thing paying for the house is you continuing to work, "then the house ends up being your boss." George's investments couldn't carry the Biltmore.
3. What percent of your net worth is the house? George was somewhere around half. If you're anywhere close to that, think long and hard.

And if you have kids: Hank (24,000 sq ft) and Neil Patel (from about 10,800 down to 3,000 sq ft) both downsized and both said the same thing. They see their kids more. "In a smaller house, you actually bump into each other."

Other Key Quotes

"And George, the kid with the smallest check, went out and built the biggest house in America."

"Only $11,000 from the richest family in America."

"It was not a nice house. It was a $9 billion project that one guy decided to go out and figure out how to do."

"What I thought was so insane about the cost of this project was that the actual build of the house was the cheapest part."

"The house isn't the mistake. The house that only costs money is the mistake."

"If the only thing paying for the house is you continuing to work or even going back to work, then the house ends up being your boss."

"When you walk out through the gift shop, remember that that gift shop is what saved the entire place."

Links You Might Like

• Join Hampton Community: https://joinhampton.com
• The Hampton Wealth Report (50+ founders worth $10M–$4B reveal their personal finances): https://joinhampton.com/mw-wr
• MoneyWise Podcast: Full episode archive

Full Transcript

Daniel Berk: In 1885, the richest man in America died, William Henry Vanderbilt. He left about $200 million. His two oldest sons got about $65 million each, and his youngest son, George, got about 10. And George, the kid with the smallest check, went out and built the biggest house in America, The Biltmore. 250 rooms, about four acres of floor space, on a piece of land in North Carolina almost three times the size of Washington, D.C. And it's still the biggest privately owned house in the country to this day. 29 years after he bought it, George died, and the New York papers said he left $50 million. A historian went through the real numbers and put his personal estate at about $900,000, and $11,000 of that was in stocks and bonds. Only $11,000 from the richest family in America. His widow ended up selling most of the land to the federal government for about five bucks an acre. But this is where it gets really strange. Today, that same house pulls in over a million visitors a year, and it employs a couple thousand people, and George's family still owns it. So this is the story of The Biltmore, what it cost to build, what it cost to keep, and how a house that ate a Vanderbilt fortune turned into the one thing the family still has generations later. If you've ever walked through a house and thought, "I could probably afford this," this one's for you. Quick note before we go back to 1888, Moneywise comes from a community called Hampton. It's a private group of founders and CEOs doing on average $25 million a year, and a lot of our guests come out of Hampton, which is why they tell us what their house costs and how much money they have and where their money goes every month. I'm gonna pull a couple of those in as we go, because the Biltmore problem didn't die in 1914. Some of our guests actually are living a small version of the Biltmore fortune right now. And so that's what we're gonna talk about in this episode. If Hampton sounds like a community that you wanna be a part of, go check it out at joinhampton.com. Okay, so first, The Biltmore. We gotta start with the money. You need to understand how big this fortune was. George's grandfather was Cornelius Vanderbilt, which is a sick name. I wish my name was Cornelius. Maybe I'll change it. He did stuff like the Commodore and steamboats and then railroads. And when he died in 1877, The New York Times put his estate at about $105 million, which by today's standards is about three and a half billion dollars. And almost all of it went to one son, William Henry. William Henry roughly doubled it in eight years, so $200 million by 1885. People called him the richest man in the world. And just as a comparison, $200 million in 1885 is roughly six to seven billion dollars today. George was the youngest of eight kids, and he was nothing like his brothers. Cornelius II ran the railroads. William K. married Alva, who we'll get to. And George read books. He ended up with about 23,000 books. He was a quiet guy, single, in his 20s. In 1888, he visited Asheville, North Carolina, and he falls in love with the mountains, so he starts to buy land. But he wanted to use an agent, so locals in Asheville didn't really understand who he was or know that this massively wealthy person started buying property. Because obviously, people start to ask questions if billionaires go start buying hundreds of acres of land. And so through this agent, he buys about 700 separate parcels of land, more than 50 farms, at least five cemeteries, and he buys a whole town called Best and renames it Biltmore Village. By the time he's done, he owned 125,000 acres. That's about 195 square miles. As a comparison, Washington, D.C. is only 68. And remember, this is the brother who only got $10 million. Each of his brothers had six or seven times that. By that standard, the poorest Vanderbilt son, but he was about to out-build every one of them.

Daniel Berk: So what he does is he hires the two biggest names in American design at the time, Richard Morris Hunt for the house and Frederick Law Olmsted for the land. Hunt was basically the family architect at that point, and Olmsted is the guy who did Central Park. George and Hunt go to France and tour really old, awesome castles and houses and homes and come home with a plan for a French Renaissance castle in the middle of the Blue Ridge Mountains. So they started construction in 1889, and one of the first problems they faced was that literally nothing was out there. There was no road that could take the weight or factory or anything, any item, to start actually building on the property. So George builds the supply chain himself. He lays a private railroad, which was three miles of track from the village depot straight to the job site. He puts a brick kiln on the property that turns out up to 32,000 bricks a day, and he builds an entire woodworking factory for oak and walnut wood. Later, limestone would come in by train from Indiana, and then he would bring marble all the way from Italy. He had about 1,000 men working on this project, and around 60 of them were stonemasons. They would work 10 hours a day, six days a week, for six whole years. And at one point, the workers pushed for half pay if they got hurt in the job, and they got it. And in 1895, what they were building was like a spaceship. George was friends with Thomas Edison, so the house had electricity from day one, and when almost nobody's house did. It also had an Otis elevator. It had forced air heat. It had fire alarms, a call bell system, so you could ring for staff from any room. In the downstairs of the home, there's a heated indoor pool that holds 70,000 gallons, plus a bowling alley and a gym. This was so much more than a home. No one in the entire world had ever built something like this. It had 35 bedrooms, 43 bathrooms, 65 fireplaces, a banquet hall with a 70-foot ceiling, and he opened it on Christmas Eve in 1895. By that time, he was 33, and he wasn't married yet. There were 250 total rooms, and he was a single dude. This guy had the most massive ambition of a home builder in the modern times today and especially back then. So we've had some really wealthy people on the show to talk about the homes that they've built, and even one guy that built a massive mansion. But what the Biltmore cost makes every single house we've discussed in this show look tiny. Nobody knows exactly what the total cost of the Biltmore was because George never actually told the public how much everything cost. But a guy, Russell Lynes, wrote about the Vanderbilt houses for American Heritage, and he said the accounts vary by several millions of dollars. Estimates run from 3 to 5 million, which again, was way back in the 1800s. One article in 1895 said 6 million. A lot of people agree that it was around $5 million. And if we run that through inflation today, you get somewhere around $200 million, which funny enough, actually sounds a little bit cheap for the biggest house in America. Like, there are spec houses in Los Angeles listed for more than that right now on Zillow. But inflation isn't the right way to think about this. In 1895, the entire US economy was about $16 billion a year. 5 million is about three-hundredths of a percent of that. So take the same slice of today's economy, and you're at something like $9 billion. I personally think that's a much better picture of how grand this build was. It was not a nice house. It was a $9 billion project that one guy decided to go out and figure out how to do. And then again, put it next to what he had, which was 10 million. The house alone took somewhere between a third and a half of it. That's before the land, before the furniture, and he shipped thousands of pieces all the way from Europe. What's even crazier is that by his family's standards, this wasn't even a huge deal.

Daniel Berk: His brother Cornelius built The Breakers in Newport, and the press put that anywhere from 7 to $12 million at the time. So his brother William built Marble House for Alva. The paper said $11 million, 7 of it spent just on marble. And those were summer houses, and they were only there for a few weeks out of the year. So even though George built the biggest house in all of America at the time, he didn't even outspend his brothers.

Daniel Berk: I ask every guest on this show what their net worth is. Most of them have to think about it. And it's not because they're hiding something, it's because their money is in dozens of different places. Two brokerages, a business account, some real estate, a crypto wallet they forgot about, a syndicate, and so much more. But we know that personal finance really is not that simple. Silvia fixes that. Silvia is an AI built for one very specific and important job: managing your money. You connect your bank accounts, your brokerage, your credit cards, your crypto. You add your real estate and whatever else you own, and now it knows your entire financial picture. And you can just ask it questions in plain English like, "Should I refinance?" Or, "How do I lower my tax rate?" Or, "What's actually risky in my portfolio?" Or you can ask, "What's the smartest way to pass this to my kids?" You could ask ChatGPT those questions, but ChatGPT doesn't know what you own. It also isn't trained on personal finance. Silvia is. In accuracy tests on tax, mortgages, and credit cards, it beat ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, and Grok. In all three categories, Silvia won. The more complicated your money is, the better Silvia gets. Their data shows people who use Silvia regularly grow their net worth faster than people who don't, and this is the case at every income level and net worth bracket. Go to silvia.com, connect your accounts, ask it the question you've been avoiding, and start understanding your personal finance more accurately than you ever have.

Daniel Berk: He spent the same kind of money with about a sixth of the bank account. What I thought was so insane about the cost of this project was that the actual build of the house was the cheapest part. Running the house and the stables took about 80 servants, and then actually maintaining the land is an insane project in itself. George, early on, wanted the estate to pay for itself. He had farms, a dairy, hogs, poultry, timber, all sorts of stuff that would actually make the land function as commerce. Later, he hired a guy named Gifford Pinchot to run the forest, the guy who went on to run the US Forest Service. Then a German forester named Carl Schenck, who in 1898, started the first forestry school in America right there on the property. So George's lineup were just stacked people, which was great for the country, but also wildly expensive. The Secretary of Agriculture at the time, J. Sterling Morton, said George was, quote, "Spending more money than Congress appropriates for this department." So one guy, George Vanderbilt, was outspending an entire federal department. And by the way, the pay for itself part never actually happened. The farms made some money, but nowhere near enough to justify how much it cost to produce the land and build this house. Historians who've gone through it say George was spending more than his income every year and dipping into the principal just to cover it. And when the economy turned in 1902, the family closed up the house and went to Europe. By 1908, the forestry school was a money pit, and so he started cutting costs and looking for land to sell.

Daniel Berk: This is the part of home building that a lot of the Moneywise guests we've had on talk about when they talk about their own homes. We had a guy on the show who goes by Hank, which is not his real name. He was an anonymous guest. And he was describing a 24,000 square foot house.

Daniel Berk: He described move-in day by saying, "We looked at each other like, 'What did we just do?'" Repairs alone, he said, maybe 50 to $60,000 a year. You'd have to patch a pool, $5,000 out the door. You'd have to fix something that goes out, $10,000, you gotta have staff. His episode added it up to around $10,000 a month just in miscellaneous fees. And Hank's fine. Hank can afford it, but nobody asks how much that number is on the tour at Vanderbilt or at the Biltmore, which I've actually gone on several times. It's an amazing house, and I highly recommend it. George Vanderbilt had the same problem with 80 servants and 125,000 acres attached. I literally can't even imagine how to deal with that as I'm sitting here thinking about it, recording this episode. So eventually, George does get married in 1898 to a woman named Edith. In 1912, the two of them were booked on the Titanic, which is crazy. And they actually ended up switching ships at the last minute. Edith wrote a year later, "For no reason whatsoever, we decided to sail on the Olympic." Then two years later, March of 1914, George had an emergency appendectomy, and about 10 days later, he died of a blood clot at 51 years old. The New York Times guessed that his estate was probably about fifty million dollars, but a historian named Edwin Hoyt later called those reckless newspaper estimates. His count was about nine hundred thousand in personal estate, which is not accounting for the real estate or a five million dollar trust that George's father had set up. The trust ended up going to their daughter, Cornelia, who was thirteen at the time. Edith got two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, the income off of a one million dollar trust, and the job of keeping the Biltmore alive. So what does she do? She starts selling. About eighty-six thousand acres go to the US Forest Service at around five dollars an acre and four hundred and thirty-three thousand dollars total, which was way under market. That land is the heart of what is now Pisgah National Forest today. But then, unfortunately, there was a huge flood in 1916, which wiped out the estate's plant nursery. So she sells the woodworking business in 1917, and then she sells Biltmore Village in 1921. So the hundred and twenty-five thousand acres they originally had gets whittled down to about eight thousand total. From the outside looking in, it looks like the Vanderbilts lost the Biltmore. But in practice, what she was doing was selling off pieces of the Biltmore to keep the house. This is the conversation I wish George could have had. In Hampton, when somebody's about to buy a big house, the first questions from the other founders aren't about bedrooms. They're, "What does it cost to run, and what happens to it in a bad year?" Nobody asked George that, because everyone around him was a Vanderbilt. So it's pretty crazy that the house is still standing to this day. By the time the Great Depression comes around, Cornelia's grown up and married to an English man named John Cecil. The city of Asheville comes to them and asks them to open the house to the public and bring tourists in, and by this point, the family actually needs the money. So in March 1930, they open the doors to the public, and admission was two dollars. Cornelia called it a, quote, "Fitting memorial to my father," which is a nice way of saying, "Dad's house needs something to do now that he's gone." Then there was World War II, and the government shows up with a weird request. The National Gallery of Art was nervous about Washington getting bombed. So in 1942, they put sixty-two paintings and seventeen sculptures on a train to Asheville to hide them in the Biltmore. And then there's another unexpected turn in 1960. Cornelia's son, William Cecil, quits a banking career in New York and comes home to run the place with his brother, and he runs it just like a business.

Daniel Berk: The house has to pay for itself, no government money, and in 1960, he got about sixty-four thousand visitors a year. By the time he handed it to his son in 1999, it was over eight hundred thousand. He planted grapes below the house in 1971, turned the old dairy barn into the winery, and opens it in 1985. Then there's hotels and restaurants and Christmas events, and today, it has around one point four million annual visitors, a couple thousand employees, and an adult ticket runs around eighty to ninety dollars, up from two dollars originally. And it's somehow still private. George's great-grandson, Bill Cecil Jr, has run it since 1995. They pay property taxes just like everyone else. The county assesses the house at about a hundred and fifty-seven million dollars. So the Biltmore house that drained the money is the thing still making a ton of money. And when you look at the history, it took about two generations of selling it off and then two more generations of putting it back together. So from a financial perspective, was George an idiot, or did he do something really smart with his investment? I actually think the case against him is kind of easy. He built a house his fortune couldn't carry, and a lot of the rest of the family didn't really do anything differently, not at first. On our episode of Moneywise about kids born into money, Taylor brought up the old line called shirt sleeves to shirt sleeves in three generations. His take was that the money isn't really the first thing to go. Generation one creates value. Then generation two stops creating and starts managing. He calls it value stewardship. And then finally, generation three grows up watching managers and turns into what he calls default value consumers. The Vanderbilts are the textbook case of this. Arthur Vanderbilt, a descendant who wrote the book on the family's fall, says when the family got together for a big reunion in 1973, there wasn't a single millionaire in the room. But there's another side. Almost every one of those giant Vanderbilt mansions on Fifth Avenue got torn down. The Biltmore is the one still in the family and still making money. But that's not necessarily because George was smart with it, because in many ways he wasn't. It's because his grandson stopped treating it like a house and made it a business. In Taylor's model, the third generation is supposed to be the one that blows it. But here, the grandson is the one who actually went back to creating something. He showed up as a business operator. So I think there's a big lesson here for anyone with real money. The house isn't the mistake. The house that only costs money is the mistake. George bought the most expensive thing in America and never really found a way to make it pay for itself while he was still alive. So if you own a house or you're about to build one, do this tonight. Three numbers. First, forget the price. What does it actually cost to own this house for a year? Taxes, insurance, utilities, staff, pool guy, repairs, add all that up. The purchase price of the house is just one component, but the actual annual spend and cost of upkeeping that house, that is the real number that you need to be focused on. Second, divide that by what your money earns without you. So look at investment income, rent from properties, whatever comes in if you stopped working tomorrow. If that alone covers the house, great. But if the only thing paying for the house is you continuing to work or even going back to work, then the house ends up being your boss. George's investments could not carry the Biltmore. Third, what percent of your net worth is the house? George was somewhere around half. If you're anywhere even close to that, I'd think long and hard before actually buying the house or property you're looking at. And if you happen to have kids, one more thing. We've had a number of guests on the show, from Hank to Neil Patel, and both optimize downsizing.

Daniel Berk: Hank from about twenty-four thousand square feet and Neil from about ten thousand eight hundred to three thousand. Both said something similar. They like seeing their kids more. In a smaller house, you actually bump into each other. If you have tens of thousands of square feet in your house, the odds of you bumping into your kid get a lot smaller. If you ever happen to be in Asheville, North Carolina, highly recommend going to check out the Biltmore. I've been there a number of times, and I love it. It's an amazing treat, and it's something that we love going back to around Christmas time as well. And when you walk out through the gift shop, remember that that gift shop is what saved the entire place. Lastly, if you're a founder doing seven figures or more and you want people around you who will ask what the house costs to run before you go buy it, that is Hampton. That's, well, that's one part of Hampton. Hampton asks a lot of things about family and kids and how to run a business and how to hire and fire and how to scale, and I think if that sounds like you should be in that room, then you probably should. It's probably just right for you. Go check out joinhampton.com, and if you made it this far, subscribe, and I'll see you next week. I'm Daniel Berk, your host. Thanks for watching Moneywise.