NASHVILLE, TENN. -- Roy MacGregor is working his way from the heartland of America to Shanksville, Pa., where United Airlines Flight 93 crashed last Sept. 11. His journey began in Oklahoma City and is taking him through Kansas, Missouri, Arkansas and Tennessee as he heads east for the anniversary.

This is the new world order of the American Superlative. The world of the biggest, the tallest, the richest, the grandest -- where over-the-top used to be the main attraction and yet, since Sept. 11, 2001, has at times been counted a potential target.

The World Trade Center: twice a terrorist target, no longer the biggest office complex in New York. The Sears Tower in Chicago: evacuated Sept. 11 in precaution, daily caution the watchword ever since. Disneyland in Anaheim, Disney World in Orlando. The Mall of America in Bloomington, Minn.

Here, in the heartland of America, it is the Opryland Hotel, with its 2,884 rooms, 55,000 square metres of meeting space and 3½ hectares of shops -- "the largest hotel and convention center under one roof in the world."

Here, where guests should be issued GPS systems just to find their way to their rooms, opulence and ostentation and the outrageous rule: hectares of tropical gardens under glass roofs, bronzed ducks that leave no droppings, majestic waterfalls and boat rides along the artificial "Delta River" that flows through the complex, even a full-sized "plantation home" to serve as one of the tonier restaurants.

A copy is being finished up in Grapevine, Tex. Another, slated for the National Harbor development in Washington, was put on hold after Sept. 11 but is going ahead, slightly scaled back and delayed until perhaps 2005.

By then, Americans may have returned to their long-held infatuation with size. At the moment, many feel that being too big is also being too obvious.

"It's something that's always on your mind," says Ryan Finch of Spanish Fork, Utah, here with his wife, Jerri Ann, for a health-food convention. "But we didn't hesitate in coming. I personally feel very safe these days. I just happen to trust in our security."

Security is a subtle issue at such places. When large sporting events such as the Super Bowl or the Olympics are mentioned as potential terrorist targets, the presence of security is something organizers wish to be seen, and the short duration of the event means security is less of an issue.

It is quite a different matter at a place in operation 365 days a year.

Employee Sandy Harrison says that she never gives it a second thought, that she worries far more about her daughter, who works in a building opposite the Sears Tower back in Chicago.

"I don't feel any fear here," she says. "When you think of terrorism, you don't think of it ever going after tourism. You think about them hitting business where it can hurt the country the most. Not here."

Still, security in such an operation is a major concern. And while those checking in may not have their luggage screened or have to pass through a metal detector, employees have their personal effects searched when they arrive and leave each day. Theft is obviously the stated concern, but since Sept. 11 there are other reasons, as well.

"We have a large international contingent here," Ms. Harrison says. "I don't mind it at all if they search us. In fact, I appreciate it."

That ordinary Americans worry more now is indisputable. A study done through the University of Oklahoma Department of Psychiatry found that one in three Americans feels increased levels of stress in 2002; 73 per cent of those attribute that rise to fear of various forms of terrorist attack. Almost one out of four say they avoid crowded areas.

A place like the Opryland Hotel, however, is a great favourite of U.S. politicians -- most presidents since Richard Nixon have visited; George and Barbara Bush came here to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary; and Vice-President Dick Cheney came here to spell out Washington's case for an attack on Iraq.

Dodi Walch of Colorado Springs, Col., attending the convention of the National Association of Women in Construction, says she's already noticed the early fears lifting. Attendance last year suffered a big drop, while this year's numbers seem back to normal.

"You can't let them dictate how you're going to live your life," she says defiantly. "Besides, isn't the whole idea about terrorism that it happens where it's not expected?"