My Magical Journey: Part 1

It all began when an energetic five-year-old (me) met Mickey Mouse for the first time inside Chef Mickey’s at the Contemporary resort. While enjoying my delicious, slightly sweet, malted Mickey waffles, the icon himself approached our table. I was star struck.

I immediately pulled out my character autograph book to collect his important signature. Of course, pictures were taken, and I received the most magical hug. The amount of joy that followed this moment cannot be expressed in a single word; it can only be described through details and memories.

As Mickey Mouse waved goodbye and strolled gleefully over to the next table, I dove back into my meal. This led to a happy food dance and a wide-eyed glance around to take in all of my surroundings. For those who don’t know, Chef Mickey’s is a character dining experience unlike any other because of its layout. Rather than being in its own area tucked away from the rest of the resort, it is smack dab in the middle of everything. While picking at my eggs and pouring more syrup on my waffles, I watched the monorail go through the building and stop to pick up other resort guests. They were on their way to Magic Kingdom and soon I would be too. I then looked over and admired the bright blue Florida sky out of the massive glass windows stretching 14 stories tall to the celling. I let my eyes wander to examine the vibrantly colored mural on the far wall made up of 18,000 hand painted tiles. At the time, I had no idea that this stunning piece of Disney art was created by the marvelous Mary Blair (an incredible imagineer whose work and story I would fall in love with as an adult). All I knew was that it was remarkable and made staying at this resort even better.

Once I had devoured as many Mickey Waffles as my stomach could hold from the buffet and successfully gathered autographs and hugs from all the other characters (Minnie Mouse, Donald Duck, Goofy and Pluto), it was off to the parks.

It is hard to say which park is my favorite. I often flip flop between them because they are all home to attractions, snacks or experiences that bring immense happiness. However, what I can say is which one holds the most nostalgia for me; which one I would be devastated to lose; which one is the location of one of my most impactful core memories. Hollywood Studios. When five-year-old me experienced Walt Disney World for the first time this park was still called MGM Studios. It was renamed in 2008. It has probably gone through the most changes over the years, but my core memory stays intact.

It goes like this. Walking into this park for the first time, I was mesmerized by the towering palm trees that lined Sunset Boulevard (trees that don’t grow in Kansas City, so I found them fascinating and truthfully still do). As we approached the two attractions that still remain in this area of the park, I was stoked to ride them. My older sister and I took each other’s hands and ran underneath the archway with the upside-down limo that led to Rockin’ Roller Coaster. The enormous red guitar on the side of the building had caught our eye. Before getting in line, we had to make sure we were both tall enough to ride. My sister was. I was not. It was only fair that my sister should get to experience this thrill even if I couldn’t. My heart sank as I watched her enter the line with my dad and I was forced to stay outside with my mom. As we waited my mom did her best to cheer me up, saying that there were tons of other rides that I would be tall enough for. I knew she was right, but I wanted thrills! And what is more thrilling than a limo and rock music? Turns out the answer is an abandoned hotel.

When my sister and dad finally reappeared, I could tell the ride had been incredible. They had slightly wind-swept hair and big smiles stretched across their faces. My sister reported that the ride went upside down and started by shooting you off super-fast. She stopped talking when she saw how upset I was and being the loving big sister that she was (and still is) gave me comfort. She assured me that someday I would be tall enough to ride and she would go on it with me. She took my hand again as we set off for the next thing. As we rounded the corner, I looked up at the Hollywood Tower Hotel (known as Tower of Terror) and pointed. I wanted to ride that.

As we approached the line there was an ominous feeling. I was in awe of the sign outside that read ‘Hollywood Tower Hotel’. Before my eyes it magically flashed, as though struck by lightning, to read ‘Tower of Terror’ instead. We strolled behind other people through the queue made to look like an abandoned hotel courtyard with broken tiles and overgrown plants (all intentionally themed). It was humid in the Florida sun but cooled down significantly as we entered the hotel lobby. An uneasy feeling washed over me as we continued through the queue. Everything was dark and covered in cobwebs. Items were scattered about as if something bad had happened causing time to freeze. I scooted closer to my mom and nervously grabbed her hand. She said that we could take the exit if this was too scary and asked if I was sure I wanted to ride this. I nodded. Of course, I wanted to ride it. The spookiness is what felt thrilling. The cast members dressed as hotel concierges led us into a small library with several other families. Lights flashed slightly illuminating the decayed décor and hundreds of old books draped in cobwebs along each wall. The doors closed and I knew at this point there was no turning back. A small television screen in the corner told the story of this hotel and explained why it had been abandoned. I know now that this was obviously not ever a real hotel but the story telling is so immersive that I absolutely believed every word at the time.

Upon hearing a crash of lightning and seeing the television turning off on its own we were led through the last part of the queue. Down through what is made to look like the boiler room of the hotel, we entered the service elevator and were wished luck by the cast member. I could feel my heart beating as the doors closed. I was strapped in holding on tight to the small bar in front of me. Everything was dark, our elevator lurched forward, and I watched as the ghosts appeared in front of us. The ghosts of the hotel guests that had been struck by lightning in an elevator just like this one causing the abandonment of the whole hotel. Then came the drop. We were pulled down at lighting speed and shot up even faster. For a moment at the top the elevator doors opened, and I could see the whole park. I barely had time to appreciate how high up we were before being dropped again. I screamed at the top of my lungs and laughed uncontrollably the entire time. The first words out of my mouth when the ride was over were “Let’s Do it Again!” End Core Memory.

In the days that followed, I continued to have the best time in the most magical place on earth. I insisted on buying an expensive Minnie Mouse costume. My mom finally obliged with the stipulation that this was my one big souvenir, and I would wear it every year for Halloween until I grew out of it. I happily agreed and rocked my Minnie ears for the next three years in a row. If only I had known, that as an adult, I would obtain a huge collection of ears in various colors and patterns. My five-year-old self would have been so pleased.