The Ride Delegate: Memoir of a Walt Disney World VIP Tour Guide (14 page)

I loaded the family onto “small world”, and the boys thought it was awesome that there was a boat to accommodate their dad. They sat in the front seats, and Dad sat directly behind them, and I watched them sail away on the happiest cruise that ever sailed.

I then ran as fast as I could out of “small world” and towards the Fantasyland managers Offices, where I knew my friend Tony was currently working. I didn’t even make it to the manager’s Offices; Tony was strolling around the Carrousel courtyard with his pickers in hand. He saw me run at him, like a bat out of hell, or a tour guide out of “small world”.

“What’s up, kid?” he asked, as I panted, breathless, in front of him.

“Do you know the wheelchair accessible rides in Magic Kingdom?”

Tony cocked an eyebrow at me. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

“No, like the ones where they HAVE to transfer,” I said, collecting myself. I had braided my hair into French braids that morning, and I could already feel they were falling out of place. “My dad’s in a wheelchair. He can’t transfer out. So, like, Space Mountain is a no-go, right?”

Tony led me to the tiny Peter Pan break room. There really is a tiny Peter Pan break room, which is just like a tiny hallway next to the exit of the ride where there are four chairs and a refrigerator, and that’s where Peter Pan Cast Members have to take their break while they listen to Peter defeat Hook over and over again on loop. Tony disappeared behind a door and emerged a moment later with a Magic Kingdom Disability Map.

“I’ve got one of those,” I said, pulling my map out of my bag. I had taken one from the Office. “But can he ride Speedway? Can he ride Dumbo?”

“He can’t ride Pan,” Tony gestured to the ride behind him. “Well, he can. But we can’t stop the belt.”

“Why?”

“They’ll have to pick him up and carry him to a ship. If we stop the belt there’s a chance it won’t restart and then it’ll go 101.” Peter Pan is one of the original Magic Kingdom attractions. I swear it hasn’t seen a proper refurbishment since 1971.

I lay my head against the wall and looked at my watch. I still had about four minuets until they’d unload from “small world”.

Tony pulled out his radio and started calling all the other managers of all the other lands in Magic Kingdom. He confirmed that my guest could ride Speedway, and Space if he really wanted. With Space he had to fit underneath the restraint safely, with about 4' of some appendage underneath. It seemed difficult, but I bet Dad was going to want to try it anyway.

I went back to meet my guests at “small world”, and before they exited Tony had heard from all of the other managers, too. I assumed there was a wheelchair boat at Pirates that Dad could wheel right onto, and Tony was quick to remind me, “There’s a drop there, Annie. How much fun would it be to then fish guests out of the water?”

Not fun at all, Tony.

My guests exited up the ramp at “small world”, excited for what was next. I suggested Winnie the Pooh, but the kids had already seen Peter Pan nestled directly across the way from us. There was no gain in avoiding the subject. I turned to the parents. “We can totally go ride Peter Pan, but unfortunately they can’t stop the moving walkway for us. So you’ll have to be lifted out and placed onto one of the ships.”

Dad seemed completely cool with this, and Grandpa and Uncle were more than willing to life him out of the chair. So over to Peter Pan we went, snaking through the tiny queue line until we came to a stop just at the beginning of the moving walkway. I unhooked the chains, while Grandpa and Uncle lifted Dad up out of his chair and quickly and safely carried him to his awaiting pirate ship. One of the kids climbed in with him.

As they sailed away to Neverland, I took a thirty-second breather. “Where to?” Dad asked as soon as everyone was out.

The best part about some of the newer attractions at Magic Kingdom is that a lot of them have wheelchair accessible vehicles. So guess who has to transfer? No one. No one has to transfer for rides like Winnie the Pooh or Ariel or Buzz Lightyear or even Jungle Cruise. They all have a wheelchair accessible vehicle and it’s fascinating seeing them work. Dad just rolled right onto both Pooh and Ariel, and the Cast Members there were completely accommodating and helpful about making sure that everyone was safely inside the vehicles. They saw wheelchair guests way more often than I did. I know Mom loved every second of it because I could tell she had been a little worried about making this trip. Dad and the kids were riding Teacups (no, there was no wheelchair teacup, but there was a teacup with an extra wide door that swiveled out so Dad could seamlessly move from his wheelchair into the teacup) and Mom and I were standing over at the attraction’s exit gate. I had pointed the grandparents in the direction of the bathroom and they had gone off in search of that.

“The community raised money for us to come down here, it’s really a marvelous thing,” she said, pointing to her shirts. “The boys designed these, and we sold them as fundraisers, too.”

“It’s so awesome seeing them all together. I’m so proud of Disney World for being completely accommodating,” I said, pointing to the family spinning round and round on a teacup.

“After his accident I never would have dreamed of taking a vacation like this. But here we are!” Mom beamed. The ride slowly came to a stop, and one of the Cast Members went rushing over with Dad’s wheelchair for him to climb back into. “If I could just ask one favor?”

“Sure, what?” I expected Mom to ask whether we could we meet Mickey or ride down Main Street in a parade float or parasail over the Seven Sea’s Lagoon.

“Could we avoid trains today?” she said simply.

“Uh, sure.” I replied, not understanding what trains had to do with anything.

“It’s just…” Mom trailed off, trying to find words. “His accident. He was a train engineer. That’s how his accident happened. A train hit him. I know he’s okay with trains now, but I get nervous that the boys aren’t. I’m not okay with trains.”

Want to know who loved trains? Walt Disney.

Want to know what place is full of trains? Magic Kingdom.

Walt loved trains from a very early age. It was a childhood hobby of his. But as he grew older, he grew out of trains and completely forgot about them for a while. Then Walt started working with a man named Ward Kimball. Ward loved trains more than Walt ever had. Ward loved trains so much that he had a life-size replica of a steam train in his backyard. Don’t worry, Ward’s wife loved trains, too. And the two of them would go and ride around their life-size replica train in their backyard, and they could go forwards in the train, and they could go backwards in the train, and that was it.

Walt was really jealous of Ward’s train. Walt wanted a train of his own. Know who didn’t like trains? Walt’s wife, Lillian. Lillian wanted nothing to do with trains. Lillian had this beautiful picturesque window overlooking her backyard, and she didn’t want to have to sit by the window playing cards with her friends and watch Walt ride by on his silly train. Walt agreed to compromise on his train, though. He built a tunnel for the train to travel through and that’s what Lillian’s window overlooked. She could stare at her beautiful gardens, and know that somewhere in the mound of dirt Walt’s train was riding around and around. The train was called the Carolwood Pacific because their house was on Carolwood Drive. You’ll see a lot of things called “Carolwood” scattered around Disney World. The train station in Fantasyland behind Barnstormer is the Carolwood Station.

Walt’s love of trains spread through Disneyland Railroad, and traveled down to Florida, too, with the Walt Disney World Railroad. Purchasing the trains was one of the last things Walt did before he passed away. Trains are always going to be a part of Disney history and now that was the only thing I needed to avoid today.

There was no way I could take this family anywhere near Frontierland.

I led the family from the Teacups to the Speedway and I got them all cars (five cars in total), and while they rode around the track, I chugged a mocha smoothie from Auntie Gravity’s and ate a banana as quickly as I could. I led the family to Space Mountain and I held my breath for 2:41 seconds while Dad rode Space with the oldest boy. Dad loved Space, the boy did not. Buzz was simple because Dad could load on and off the wheelchair vehicle with ease. We made our way down Main Street, went to go see Mickey (and the princesses for Mom and the grandmas), and we came back up Main Street and headed into Adventureland. The tour was only supposed to last six hours, and that was my max time for them. I had to leave them at six hours, which meant I had to stall so we never made it to Frontierland.

Aladdin’s Magic Carpets, Jungle Cruise, Pirates, and then I backtracked a little and took the family towards Haunted Mansion. As we walked, I could tell that the boys were looking off in the Wild West direction.

“Isn’t there a log flume here?” Uncle asked me as we gathered around Haunted Mansion.

“Um, yeah. But isn’t it a little cold to ride that today? And you guys will get completely soaked,” I said, ushering everyone into the queue.

“I want to get soaked!”

“Me too!” the boys cried excitedly. I looked over at Splash Mountain in Frontierland. I could easily take them there and let them ride that. But per Mom’s request, I couldn’t take them anywhere near the wildest ride in the wilderness. I told Mom this. I told Mom that there was in fact a log flume attraction, but it was next to the runaway train rollercoaster. She didn’t look too pleased hearing that the attraction was referred to as a “runaway train”.

The boys stayed adamant about riding Splash Mountain. As soon as kids got an idea of an attraction in their head it was little to no use trying to talk them out of it. We hiked to Splash after Haunted Mansion. Dad looked over at Thunder Mountain. “What’s that?” he asked.

“It’s a really scary rollercoaster. Two loops.” Dad gave me a look that told me I could drop the act. “It’s a train rollercoaster.”

“Cool! I want to try that!” he said, and there was no use trying to talk him out of that, either.

Everyone got off Splash soaked, as I had predicted, and we fought through the massive crowd in Frontierland towards the front of Thunder. The Thunder queue, though it just went through a refurbishment, is still not designed to accommodate wheelchairs. So wheelchair parties have to enter through the exit. The Cast Member stationed there saw us coming and quickly asked me how many were riding. I was prepared to wait ten minutes or so for us to be loaded on, but the Cast Member took the family right away.

Now, if you’re familiar with Thunder Mountain, you’ll know there are two loading docks. A right side and a left side. If you’re in the queue, the right side is where the wheelchairs load. It’s got a little holding pen where wheelchairs can be stored, and the last car of all trains is designed to accommodate guests transferring out of the wheelchair and into the train. The last row has a little swivel door, like at Dumbo and Teacups, where it opens, and then Dad could just scoot from one into the other. The Cast Member in the tower then has to know that there’s a wheelchair party riding, and direct the train back to the correct dock so Dad could then unload from the runaway train and back into his wheelchair. The other side of the dock wasn’t large enough to accommodate the space of a wheelchair.

By this time in the day it was hot, I was tired, and I knew I was getting completely dehydrated. The only things I had eaten were the banana and the mocha smoothie. Thunder Mountain is only about a three-minute ride from start to finish, but I knew I was on the verge of passing out. I had been so focused on the family, and making sure that everything was running smoothly, that I had completely forgotten to drink enough water. I watched the family load onto Thunder, the train dispatched, and I ran out the exit and towards the popcorn cart outside. They had Gatorade.

There was a line there; because of course there was a line the one time I needed to get Gatorade quickly. I stationed myself at the end of the popcorn line, and waited, and waited, and after what felt like forever I bought my Gatorade and chugged it as quickly as possible. It was a blue Gatorade, and halfway through chugging it the thought crossed my mind that I was drinking it took quickly and that if I spilled any on myself it was going to stain my white shirt blue. I took a breather from chugging and looked up to see that one of the grandmas was standing right in front of me.

“Oh, gosh, are you guys off already?” I asked her, as we walked back towards the exit.

“Everyone else is riding again. Once was enough for me!” Grandma laughed.

The family exited a few minutes later. The boys came rushing up to me, excited. “That was awesome! We rode it three times!”

“Three times?” I questioned. I looked to one of the parents for confirmation, and Uncle nodded.

“They let us two more times!” he said, also excited.

I looked to the Cast Member standing at the exit and he meekly shrugged his shoulders. The family moved down the exit ramp as the Cast Member leaned in to me, “We sent them to the wrong dock. Twice. Couldn’t let them unload since the wheelchair was on the other side.”

So, the one attraction I was supposed to avoid they ended up riding three times in a row because the tower Cast Member failed to see that they went to the left side dock twice, when they needed to end up on the right.

Shortly after that we hit the six-hour mark and I had to leave the family for the day. I brought them over to a late lunch at Liberty Tree Tavern and told them their lunchtime would line up perfectly with the parade if they wanted to see that. The family was incredibly appreciative of everything I had done for them during the day, but honestly I hadn’t done much of anything. All I did was double check with each Cast Member at each attraction to make sure that their procedures allowed for Dad to ride. The family really did the rest.

Working in Magic Kingdom I found myself constantly getting grief from other guests about the fact that the park was unaccommodating for guests traveling in wheelchairs. And I always used to say, “Listen. This one time I had a tour where the dad had no legs and no arm and he rode
every single ride
in the park, including the one Mom told me that he wasn’t allowed to ride.”