If you're going to credit one person, the modern chain restaurant owes its existence

chiefly to Ray Croc, the hustling traveling salesman who entered into an uneasy partnership

with the MacDonald brothers to take their hamburger stand concept nationwide.

In Croc's closest analog in the hospitality sector is a man whose more sonorous name became

his brand.

Conrad Hilton, a new Mexico native who, after serving in World War I, became a state

legislator for the land of Enchantment before turning to the private sector with dreams

of owning a bank.

When that fell through, Hilton hatched up a fallback plan that would become his life's

work, purchasing the Moby Hotel in Cisco, Texas.

After success with that location, over the course of the 1920s, Hilton opened eponymous

ends across the Lone Star State, and while the Great Depression nearly destroyed his

fledgling business, he came out on the other side with eight hotels and a coastal expansion

plan.

As his chain went nation and then worldwide, Hilton himself turned into a symbol of wealth

and glamour, marrying actress Jaja Gabor as the middle of his three wives and becoming

famed for his philanthropy.

Today, Hilton's business legacy includes nearly 600 hotels in the 85 countries.

But the other part of his legacy is less estimable.

His heirs, a murderer's row of towheaded fail sons and daughters who serve as poster

children for drastically raising the estate tax.

In a particular twist of the knife, Conrad Hilton's namesake, his great grandson Conrad,

...