The Detroit times. [volume] (Detroit, Mich.) 1903-1920, 1915-08-09
A Letter to a Hotel Man.
~ Or. FRANK CRANE
Copyright. 1915. by Frank Crane)

heard you say the other day, as youI
were talking to some men, that the hotel
business was on the bum. You gave al
good many reasons for bad business
such as the war, the administration at
Washington. the tariff, and other gem
eral and national things. The men with
you also talked wisely of this and that
Permit me to offer my suggestion
here. as to what's the matter with your
hotel. ! might have mentioned it tdl
you personally if it had not been that
the air you carry effectively prevents
any confidential approaches.
What l went to your hostelry for, and
what nine men out Of ten go there for
is HOSPITALITY. And that's the ond
thing we don't find.
People who lodge in hotels are away
from home. They are lonesome.
Of course they need food and shelter
and you give them that; but most Of al \
they want a cordial welcome, kindly
atmosphere and human warmth of feelf
ing, and that you do not give them.
found two things a. your inn: obsef
quiousness and indifference. I
The obsequiousness was displayed b,{
that portion of the help that was looking
for tips.
The indifference by those you couldn't
tip.
The porter was very anxious to carry
my little valise that weighed about tel
pounds. The cloak-room girl insisted OIL
checking my hat and cane, that coulf
easily have taken care of myself. Thy
walters manifested lively interest II
my well-being only at the crucial momenS
when l was counting my change. 1
Venality and subservience stuck on
all over these persons. Their acts anf
manners dumbly shrieked, "How much
this fellow going to give us?" X
The impression l got was not that
was there to be made comfortable, buy,
that | was there to be feeced. l wafo
not guest. l was prey. I
Your desk clerk was out of place. Hk
ought to be warden in penitentiary OF
doorman at charitable association. nj
seemed panied whenever spoke to hin
and appeared to wish | would go awaI
and let him alone. His business appaA
emily was not to accommodate me, bu
to fiddle around among his books and q
converse with some friends OF his. :;
got no information did not wrinI
out of him. He volunteered nothing
He knew nothing about the street ca
lines. nor the theaters. nor the way T
$50 Main-st.
He was about as cordial as the mat
at the bank window.
l would respectfully suggest that i,
you would get your employees togethd
once a week and drill them in polite
ness, courtesy and geniality, your bus Z
ness might pick up. IA
/ am nobody, and do not want sep
wants to kow-tow to me. / am just on
of the great public, one of the poor boob
that give up the money that support
you and all public or quasi-public instf,
tutions. But am human, and littl
humanity tastes good to me. h
So, If you would make your caravan +
sary less like mausoleum or stated Il.
prison. and more like home. ! and TIM
rest of the common herd might like YOU
place better. kT
There is nothing" wrote DR.. Joh4'ee
son. (which has yet been contrived Hr
man by which SO much happiness is prf
duced as by good tavern or inn." Il
Archbishop Leighton went so far d
to declare that If he were to choose PRR
place to die in, it should be an inn. i
And doubtless you know the lines DIN
William Shenstone-l remember seeir( :
them in mosaic on the floor Of the Pon(asu
de Leon hotel in st. Augustine:
'whoe'er has travelled life's dull round. +"
whereer his stages may have been, =
May sigh to think he still has found 1
The warmest welcome at an inn"