Worlds of Fun - Part 4: The WayBack Machine.

August 14, 2019 by Dave Gottwald

A large part of the theme park is wrapped up in nostalgia. In fact, fond yearning for past times might thematic design’s single biggest ingredient. Whether conjuring up the imaginary past of Disney’s Main Street USA or romanticizing exotic foreign locales, theming relies on cultural mythology and shared media representations. Nostalgia is the reason much of our media exists, anyway, from Stranger Things to the Marvel Cinematic Universe or even the Westerns of John Ford.

Taken for a Spin

I was delighted to find a ride from my youth at Worlds of Fun. Finnish Fling is what’s called a “Rotor” manufactured by Chance Rides of Wichita, Kansas. You might have been on one of these at some point—there were once dozens of them across the United States, including a half-dozen Six Flags parks.

Rotor is essentially a barrel-shaped centrifuge which produces a sensation a bit less than 3g (three times the pull of Earth’s gravity). Certainly not as intense as astronaut training, but serious enough to cause weaker stomachs to lose their lunches. The big surprise for first time riders is that when the spinning reaches maximum effect, the floor slowly drops out, leaving guests pinned in place to the walls.

Vintage postcard, Spin Out, Six Flags Magic Mountain. — Vintage postcard, **Spin Out**, Six Flags Magic Mountain.

The Rotor I grew up with was called Spin Out at Six Flags Magic Mountain in Valencia, California. Not all Rotors were installed within these ornate wooden structures, but the housings for both Spin Out and World of Fun’s Finnish Fling appear to be nearly identical. Both were built with an observation level, allowing guests waiting in the queue to look down on those experiencing the attraction and decide if they were up for it. The first time I went on Spin Out in high school, my friend Brad discouraged me from looking down into the ride. He’s not one for spoilers, and I’ll give him that—it was much, much cooler not knowing that the floor was going to drop out on you. I recall my face being flush red by the end.

So Finnish Fling was truly a time machine for me. Something of a “WayBack Machine” as the Internet Archive calls it. Spin Out was removed from Magic Mountain in 2008, and I only rode it during the mid-nineties. Here at Worlds of Fun I could be 16 again.

Vintage postcard, Finnish Fling. — Vintage postcard, **Finnish Fling**.

Vintage press photos from the early 1970s show that Finnish Fling originally had a 20-foot long spartan galley ship model which was used in the filming of Ben Hur (1959) out in front of the ride building. Definitely not Scandinavian, but whatever! Vikings had galley ships too. It was pulled in the early 1990s—just one of the many thematic details which have been removed from the park over the years. I’m guessing it was wood rot that did this beauty in, just like the other, larger boats at Worlds of Fun which were all bought at an MGM studio backlot auction.

To ride a Rotor, you have to be wearing shoes and socks. Blast! I was in flip-flops for my day at Worlds of Fun. Sympathetic to my plight—and after I told him I hadn’t ridden a Rotor in some twenty years and I was really, really looking forward to the experience—the ride operator loaned me his own footwear, including sweat socks! Bless him.

And I’m so very glad this young man did. As it turns out, this would be the last summer for Finnish Fling at Worlds of Fun. It was scrapped at the end of the 2017 season, amid outcry from fans and even an online petition to keep it. Park officials cited high maintenance costs. But in their wisdom, they did recognize the ever-potent power of nostalgia, and auctioned off final rides for a local charity.

There’s only a few places left in the United States to ride an original Rotor—the Turkish Twist at Canobie Lake Park in Salem, New Hampshire; the Tumbleweed at Frontier City in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma; and the G-Force Rotor at Sylvan Beach Amusement Park in Sylvan Beach, New York.

Worlds of Fun 1995 souvenir park map poster.

So for one last spin, Finnish Fling was my own personal thematic time machine. But what about nostalgic feelings for something that you yourself never experienced? In his introduction to Motel Vegas, Fred Sigman’s photographic survey of decaying and/or long gone Las Vegas motels and their garish neon signage, Scott Dickensheets notes a powerful lust for these images, despite the fact that

I never directly experienced the zoomy golden age of roadside splendor myself…so what, I wonder, is the source of this ersatz nostalgia I feel…the obvious-seeming answer is that [these images tap] into a culturally inculcated longing for a less complicated time…

The 1995 map above—from the very year that Cedar Fair purchased the park—proudly features the two most beloved extinct attractions in the history of Worlds of Fun: Orient Express and Zambezi Zinger. I never got to ride either one of them. Yet I know what Scott Dickensheets is talking about.

Orient Express (1980–2003). — **Orient Express** (1980–2003).

Getting Oriented

Orient Express (get it? it’s a reference to the famous Agatha Christie novel) was a classic Arrow looper, basically an evolved take on their wildly popular Loch Ness Monster which is still in operation at Busch Gardens Williamsburg. Orient Express was constructed with the same interlocking loops which made Ol’ Nessie so famous.

Orient Express official press kit, 1980. — **Orient Express** official press kit, 1980.

When the ride opened for the 1980 season, it was the current state of the art for steel coasters. Along with the interlocking loops, Orient Express featured a reverse helix and a brand new element which Arrow had not yet installed on any of their other rides.

Vintage postcard showing “Kamikaze Kurve” element, Orient Express. — Vintage postcard showing “Kamikaze Kurve” element, **Orient Express**.

Arrow dubbed this element “The Kamikaze Kurve” for Orient Express. It has since been known on other Arrow loopers as a “boomerang.” As pictured above, basically it’s a pair of connected inversions. The train enters on the left, inverts and passes under, inverts again and then exits on the right. Both Vortex at Kings Island (1987) and Viper at Magic Mountain (1990) have boomerangs with identical geometry to the Kamikaze Kurve which was installed on Orient Express. They’re the only two left—all other Arrow coasters with a boomerang element have since been dismantled. Bolliger & Mabillard calls it a “batwing” on their rides.

Worlds of Fun was incredibly proud to debut Orient Express. It had enough record-setting stats and unique features to really place the park on coaster enthusiast’s lists worldwide. It was really this ride which put Worlds of Fun on the map.

I went on enough about culturally problematic design in my previous post, but I do want to point out the completely Krazy “Kamikaze” typography going on here in the Worlds of Fun press kit. It’s the tried and true “make Roman lettering look like Asian brush stroke” effect. Here it’s taken to the extreme—laughably tacky. What’s up with all the extraneous accents?

The park went out of their way to compare the height of Orient Express with the park’s other rides in their promotional materials and advertising. These days, of course, 117 feet is nothing. A kiddie ride.

Orient Express logomark.

Behold this logo! It has to be one of the coolest roller coaster marks ever designed. Some kind of mysterious, creepy-looking dragon, beautifully illustrated. And the lettering, which appears to be a modified, faux-italic bit of Serif Gothic, looks like an early 80s metal band.

Orient Express on Worlds of Fun 1995 souvenir park map poster. — **Orient Express** on Worlds of Fun 1995 souvenir park map poster.

From my research this looks to be the very first serious branding campaign for an individual ride at Worlds of Fun. That wicked cool logo was used everywhere.

Orient Express entrance and shop, (1980–2003). — **Orient Express** entrance and shop, (1980–2003).

As the ride’s queue marquee, it looks absolutely terrific. And complete with the branding push, Orient Express had its own merchandise shop called, naturally, “Orient Expressions.” The early eighties were a time when coasters were beginning to be more aggressively named, branded, and merchandised. Each ride now had to have its own logo, gift shop, and sweatshirts. Today, of course, this is commonplace.

I managed to find a few snapshots online, though I could not identify the photographer(s). You can see the lush landscaping which Orient Express was known for. Riders darted in and out of trees.

I can’t imagine trying to snap pictures with a film camera on a ride this rough (Arrow loopers have a well-deserved reputation for roughness, this being before ride layouts were simulated and refined on computers), but the coaster had enough superfans that apparently some of them went for it. Twisting and snaking this way and that, Orient Express was beloved for many years.

Vintage postcard, Orient Express (1980–2003). — Vintage postcard, **Orient Express** (1980–2003).

And let’s not forget those famous interlocking loops. Today Loch Ness Monster has the only pair left in the world.

Vintage Worlds of Fun advertisement, 1980.

Early on these loops had become the de facto symbol of Worlds of Fun, much like Sleeping Beauty’s Castle at Disneyland. The park used them time and time again on their press photos, souvenir books, guidemaps, and postcards. Orient Express appeared as the central element in almost all the park’s advertising, and was billed as “THE GREATEST COASTER EVER CONCEIVED.”

After riding Orient Express and heading back home, you could let motorists on the highways around Kansas City know that you were warned. But you rode it anyway.

Although the ride was dismantled after the 2003 season and its metal sold for scrap, Orient Express lives on. There’s actually an entire YouTube subculture of coaster fans who post and share both on and off ride vintage footage of amusement and theme park attractions, especially extinct ones. In this way, fans can relive a favorite roller coaster from their youth, or in my case, ride one for the first time. The above clip is Orient Express POV footage shot with a camcorder in 1995.

What’s most amazing is today in the age of 3D gaming software and now virtual reality, coaster fans are recreating extinct attractions in simulators such as No Limits by studying photos, videos, and even elevation plans. It was neat watching camcorder footage taken on the ride but it was even cooler (and light years more surreal, from a time travelling, nostalgic perspective) to “ride” the coaster as a virtual simulation—perfectly timed, slick and smooth, no jolts. The above clip is an Orient Express POV simulation in No Limits 2 software.

Zambezi Zinger (1973–1997). — **Zambezi Zinger** (1973–1997).

What a Zinger

So why go on about these extinct attractions? Well, I’m getting to that. But first I’d like to look at one other long-lost Worlds of Fun guest favorite—Zambezi Zinger.

Zambezi Zinger on Worlds of Fun 1995 souvenir park map poster. — **Zambezi Zinger** on Worlds of Fun 1995 souvenir park map poster.

Another fine alliteration, Zambezi Zinger was a particular type of electric spiral lift ride designed by Werner Stengel and manufactured by coaster legend Anton Schwarzkopf. His company called this model the Speed Racer or Extended Jumbo Jet. The first installation of this type was Big Bend at Six Flags Over Texas (1971–1979), which still has tons of fans. World of Fun’s Zinger was the second.

The Speed Racer / Extended Jumbo Jet was the largest and last such ride to be designed. The earlier Jet Star, Jet Star 2, Jet Star 3 / Jumbo Jet, and City Jet / Jet 400 were all prefabricated models designed to be relocated, as in the case of a travelling fair. As such many of them continue to be moved from park to park. For example, Cedar Point once had a Jumbo Jet (1972–1978) which was subsequently moved on to many other parks around the United States and Europe. It now resides in Belarus.

Zambezi Zinger entrance (1973–1997). — **Zambezi Zinger** entrance (1973–1997).

I spoke to several older employees during my visit to Worlds of Fun. They all waxed fondly and had nothing but praise for the Zinger. Makes sense—people are big fans of these things. Sadly, just like Orient Express, it was off the menu long before I arrived. I did, however, get to ride its cousin at Six Flags Great America just the week prior.

Whizzer at Six Flags Great America. — **Whizzer** at Six Flags Great America.

Gee Whiz

Both of Marriott’s Great America parks opened in 1976 with identical Schwarzkopf Speed Racer rides called Willard’s Whizzer, named in honor of the Marriott Corporation’s founder, J. Willard Marriott. The California version closed at the end of the 1988 season, a few years after a fatal crash on the ride at that park which caused Marriott to remove Willard’s name from both Whizzer coasters. The Six Flags version in Gurnee, Illinois was nearly closed in 2002, but public outcry forced park officials to reconsider. It lives on today.

Honorary plaque for Whizzer at Six Flags Great America. — Honorary plaque for **Whizzer** at Six Flags Great America.

The noted American Coaster Enthusiasts organization bestowed this remaining Whizzer with its landmark status a decade after the near-closure. Although this designation affords no government protection, it does make a very public statement that urges Six Flags to continue to preserve the ride.

Spiral lift hill on Whizzer at Six Flags Great America. — Spiral lift hill on **Whizzer** at Six Flags Great America.

All iterations of the Schwarzkopf electric spiral lift ride have two unique features. The first is, naturally, the spiral lift. Unlike a traditional coaster in which the trains are pulled up an incline by a chain and then released, the trains on these rides have on-board motors that drive them to the top of a spiral. From there, gravity does the rest. These motors are one of the reasons that there aren’t many electric spiral lifts left—apparently they are quite costly and difficult to maintain.

Single file seating on Whizzer at Six Flags Great America. — Single file seating on **Whizzer** at Six Flags Great America.

The second is the single file, bobsled-style seating. Initially these types of rides opened with no restraints of any kind, but seatbelts were added in the 1980s.

I rode the Whizzer several times during my visit to Six Flags Great America. It was super unique; the warm hum of the motors beneath the trains, the spiral climb, and the unusually smooth track layout with plenty of airtime, supremely banked curves, and relatively high G-forces. If you’re any kind of coaster fan, there’s tons to love here. And most of all, extremely rare—there are only two such coasters left in the entire world.

That’s right. Although Zambezi Zinger left Worlds of Fun after the 1997 season, it lives on.

Vintage postcard, Zambezi Zinger (1973–1997). — Vintage postcard, **Zambezi Zinger** (1973–1997).

¡El Renacimiento! (The Rebirth!)

Unlike its smaller, prefabricated Schwarzkopf cousins, the Speed Racer / Extended Jumbo Jet model was intended to be a permanent installation. Yet instead of scrapping the ride like California’s Great America did, Worlds of Fun did something unexpected. They sold it.

The Zambezi Zinger survives—improbably—to this day at Parque del Café theme park in Quindío, Colombia. It goes by the name Montaña Rusa (which is just “Roller Coaster” in Spanish) these days where it’s been in residence since 1999, two years after the Zinger closed at Worlds of Fun. What surprised me is that people actually make pilgrimages to Colombia specifically to ride this coaster which they remember so fondly and passionately from their youth. There are countless online threads and videos of people who have travelled all the way to South America for this.

Most recently, this past spring someone who has blogged and written about Worlds of Fun extensively over the past twenty years finally made the trip. Curiously, she had this to post shortly before departing:

The truth is I never rode Zinger… All those times everyone tried to get me to ride Zinger… Even when I knew it was being removed. How stupid could I have been? Fear is a powerful thing, but Regret. Regret is a terrible thing. So when I realized, probably 15 years ago that I had a chance to fix that regret, it was a powerful thought. How often are we allowed the chance?

The above 360 on-Ride clip was shot on May 24, 2019, as well as this one. She rode Montaña Rusa a total of eight times that day.

Déjà Vu All Over Again

Which brings me back to what Scott Dickensheet mused, “…so what, I wonder, is the source of this ersatz nostalgia?” For the Worlds of Fun superfan above, it was about regret. About growing up with that park but never riding that one ride. And the thrill of finding out—like a loved one returning from the grave—that there was a still a shot, a chance to go back, to unto that mistake. By booking a trip to Colombia.

There are many things I loved about the AMC period drama Mad Men (2007–2015). The set design, the costumes, the obsessive attention to historical detail—it’s a designer’s dream. And of course, watching Don Draper work a room.

My favorite all-time monologue / pitch (all of Don’s monologues were pitches, whether he was talking to Betty, Peggy, or a group of suits) is from the first season’s finale episode, “The Wheel.” It’s worth quoting at length (emphasis is mine):

Technology is a glittering lure. But there is the rare occasion when the public can be engaged on a level beyond flash, if they have a sentimental bond with the product. My first job, I was in house at a fur company with this old pro copywriter, Greek, named Teddy. And Teddy told me the most important idea in advertising was ‘new.’ Creates an itch. You simply put your product in there as a kind of calamine lotion. But he also talked about a deeper bond with the product: nostalgia. It’s delicate, but potent. Teddy told me that in Greek nostalgia literally means ‘the pain from an old wound.’ It’s a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone.

This device isn’t a spaceship. It’s a time machine. It goes backwards, forwards. Takes us to a place where we ache to go again. It’s not called ‘The Wheel.’ It’s called ‘The Carousel.’ It lets us travel the way a child travels. Around and around and back home again to a place where we know we are loved.

Back in 2014–2015, some of the marketing folks at Worlds of Fun must have been binge-watching Mad Men, because they decided to refurbish a space in the Europa area and convert it to a nostalgic retail outlet. This location opened in 1973 as “La Petite Toy Shoppe.” It had been called “Déjà Vu” since the early eighties, and throughout the nineties was a clearance outlet for overstock souvenirs.

Déjà Vu now calls itself the “Vintage Worlds of Fun Headquarters” and carries the slogan I could swear I’ve done this before. This was a wise move on their part, as Don Draper reminds the Kodak people he’s pitching to that there’s bags full of money to be made from the public “if they have a sentimental bond with the product.” In a way, theme parks get to have their cake and eat it too; they can remove rides and other attractions with impunity, then posthumously celebrate their ‘extinct’ status with merchandise.

As Mr. Draper says, nostalgia is “delicate, but potent.” And it comes in many flavors, whether authentic or Dickensheet’s “ersatz” variety. Some people, if they have the skills and inclination, recreate their own experiences to relive. Just like with Orient Express, people have modeled the Zambezi Zinger using No Limits simulation software. The above clip is a POV simulation using the original version of No Limits.

Zambezi Zinger model on display at Déjà Vu, 2015. Roller Coaster Philosophy/Flickr. — **Zambezi Zinger** model on display at Déjà Vu, 2015. *Roller Coaster Philosophy/Flickr.*

Others prefer the physical to the virtual. The above working model was created by this fella in 2013. He had built an earlier version in 2011, and he’s constructed all kinds of working models over the years, both fictional and actual roller coasters. Perhaps because he’s in the Kansas City area and possibly has some kind of relationship with Worlds of Fun, his Zambezi Zinger was on display at the park for a while.

For the rest of us, of course, there’s the merchandise. The day I visited Worlds of Fun it was the middle of the week, and Déjà Vu was buttoned up tight. I inquired and learned that it was usually only open for business on weekends and peak holiday. I get it. Delicate, but potent. But after chatting up a young staff member (possibly too young to have ridden either the Zinger or Orient Express) I found he was sympathetic to my plight. He arranged to open the store himself just so I could shop a little.

While I was in there tooling around and getting all sorts of swag from t-shirts to sticker and magnets of extinct attractions and items featuring the original hot air balloon logo for the park, a couple other people ducked in and asked if they too could shop. It was awfully nice of this kid to let us in.

Orient Express shirt by Kansas City retailer Charlie Hustle. — **Orient Express** shirt by Kansas City retailer Charlie Hustle.

The park’s merchandisers aren’t the only ones getting in on the action. A local company called Charlie Hustle launched a Worlds of Fun Collection apparel line in June of 2019. As they say on their website,

Inspired by the classic designs in sports and popular culture, we use the t-shirt as a canvas in effort to express our love and passion for vintage clothing. Our influences take us back to our youthful innocence and those childhood moments we all wish to relive.

The original balloon logo is featured on several items, and Zambezi Zinger has its own tee. Their Orient Express shirt, however, sold out in all sizes except small the day after it was offered (they’ve since restocked). It would appear to be an official partnership, as guests throughout the 2019 summer season report that Charlie Hustle is available at retail outlets throughout Worlds of Fun, including Déjà Vu.

Loyalty KC is yet another local outfit that traffics in the midwestern nostalgic trade. The company designs “shirts that pay homage to the great city of Kansas City.” Fortunately their awesome Zambezi Zinger shirt from 2018 (featuring the era-omnipresent Cooper Black) is still available in lots of sizes.

So sure. I rode Finnish Fling in order to relive my high school trips to Six Flag Magic Mountain. But I also now wear vintage-style t-shirts for extinct attractions that I never rode that were once at a park I didn’t grow up with. I mean, why not? A woman flew all the way to South America to ride a coaster she’s apparently very passionate about but never actually went on growing up.

As usual, I have more questions than answers. I’m a designer and a history buff, so naturally I dig vintage graphics anyway. If the Orient Express logo was truly terrible, I doubt I’d sport it out in public. It is cool; it’s worth wearing just aesthetically. But there is more, I think.

Thematic design is so wrapped up in nostalgia, wound so tightly, that at each and every park I’ve visited so far—parks I did not grow up with and have never visited before—I still felt it. I tended to imagine what these places were like when they opened, or perhaps during their first decade. Maybe that’s about the nature of change at these parks altogether. The degradation I’ve been talking about, how the intention of the designers gets lost over time, distorted; contradictions introduced… I’m longing for that ‘pure’ experience. Which is really what Don Draper is talking about, in the end. A chance to return again to purity, to safety, and ultimately, to lost love.

Delicate, but potent.

Worlds of Fun - Part 3: Can Theming Be Racist?

August 07, 2019 by Dave Gottwald

I really enjoyed my visit to Kansas City’s Worlds of Fun. The park is lushly landscaped, features a variety of attractions, and much of its early seventies design (led by Randall Duell) is preserved relatively intact. There’s been some thematic degradation over the years, for sure. All three original boats (two of which were purchased at an MGM backlot auction) that once factored into the park’s overall globetrotting theme based on the Oscar-winning film Around the World in 80 Days (1956) have been scrapped.

But it’s what remains that is the most interesting. And the most problematic. Worlds of Fun is a time capsule of an earlier era. Despite the gains made in expanding social consciousness throughout the 1960s, the park remains trapped in 1973 amber which fully reveals just what had not yet been addressed in American society. Worlds of Fun makes apparent just what kind of cultural stereotyping was acceptable back then—and is perhaps still acceptable today.

Worlds of Fun 1973 souvenir park map poster.

The 1973 Worlds of Fun souvenir map features cartoon mascots for each of the themed lands: Americana, Europa, Scandinavia, Africa, and Orient. As one might expect, the are all caricatures of the same white boy. In Scandinavia, he’s a Viking; for Americana, a cowboy. In Europa he’s some kind of cool lookin’ cat wearing French-like street clothing.

Orient area, Worlds of Fun 1973 souvenir park map poster. — *Orient* area, Worlds of Fun 1973 souvenir park map poster.

Asian Fusion

For the Orient our character appears, well, “Oriental” as they would have said then. The boy is wearing a conical hat (in Chinese dǒulì 斗笠) which is still popular throughout many Asian countries to this day. He appears to be holding firecrackers and a lit stick of dynamite. Yet his skin remains white.

I point this out only because it’s a clear representation of what “other” would be to an overwhelmingly white, middle class, Middle American audience at a Missourian theme park in the early seventies. Rather than presenting some kind of Asian young person, the white cartoon becomes the other, subsuming his identity. The cartoon kid gets to play “dress up” as Viking warrior and as a cowboy—here he acts as if Asian. Because my area of expertise is design, I’m not sure how else to comment. But there it is.

Orient area in 1973. — *Orient* area in 1973.

Press photos from the opening season show an Orient area with plenty of natural woods and more muted paint schemes.

The current look of the land is reds and yellows, dialed up to eleven. The forms on the roof appear to be a comically exaggerated and simplified interpretation of secular Thai architecture.

There’s color in Randall Duell’s original design treatment, but it’s subtle and scans as a bit more authentic (or authentic-seeking). There are also smaller details‚ such as the Thai-inspired columns, that appear to have been completely removed. It’s a shame—although the 1973 Worlds of Fun 1973 souvenir park map poster is full of racist caricatures, the 1973 thematic design is not quite as offensive. At least they were trying.

I expect cheesy puns for my theme park attraction names, but the ones here in Orient are especially bad. Panda, bamboo, Bamboozler, get it? To be bamboozled, or course, is to be taken by a confidence man or tricked by some other kind of fraud. Curiously, it’s also the title of a film by Spike Lee about a contemporary television minstrel show on which black actors wear blackface makeup. But I digress.

Vintage postcard, Singapore Sling. — Vintage postcard, **Singapore Sling**.

Bamboozler opened in 1977 as Singapore Sling. The ride moved to the Americana area in 1980 (where it was known as Whirligig), and then four years later returned to its current location in Orient as Bamboozler.

A “Singapore Sling” is a classic gin cocktail which was supposedly invented during World War I at the hotel bar in Singapore. That hotel, Raffles, is a late nineteenth century British colonial-style luxury resort and was named for Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles who founded the colony in 1819 as and outpost of the British East India Company. This is nothing more than an interesting aside; “Singapore Sling” has a colonial connection.

Yes, yes they did. “Pagoda Soda.” The script typeface is particularly egregious.

There are a few such “pagodas” scattered around the Orient area. They all carry what are called hard hill roofs (in Chinese yìngshāndǐng 硬山顶 ). So there’s some authenticity in those tiles and framing, but the colors are extremely garish. Mustard yellow everywhere.

I commented on this in my prior Worlds of Fun post, but I’d like to point out again the—quite ironic—suitability of a Panda Express outlet in the Orient area. This was probably added after Cedar Fair bought the park in 1995, during a period of explosive growth for the Chinese American fast food chain which included contracted presence at both Cedar Fair and Six Flags parks nationwide.

This bridge appears to be painted red in all the early park photos, just not this red.

Here’s a new one for me—pagoda as duck food dispenser. With the red paint and white trim, at a distance, this looked like some kind of emergency phone box to call the paramedics. And look at those upturned eaves! This is a common (and thus obvious to reference) feature of traditional Chinese architecture.

What’s interesting about thematic design is that it’s a distilled art form. Aesthetics become heightened, sweetened, amped up, exaggerated. And thus sometimes misapplied. That upturned curve telegraphs “Asia” to a white Western audience in a very direct way. So why not use it everywhere, even if that’s a departure from the actual design of said culture(s)? Here in Orient at Worlds of Fun even the benches have upturns. And they’re bright mustard yellow, naturally.

In the center of Orient is a large garden area surrounding a pond. Early photos show a sparse landscape, but in the decades since it’s actually become quite heavily wooded and somewhat charming.

That’s the queue building for Bamboozler off at the right. The ride which used to be at this spot was called Oriental Octopus. It moved to Scandinavia and then left Worlds of Fun after the end of the 2014 season for Valleyfair where it lives as Monster.

I’ve been in love with Japanese garden design since I was a child. These stone lanterns (in Japanese tōrō 灯籠 or 灯篭, 灯楼) are indeed authentic examples, and likely made of concrete instead of actual stone—just like other contemporary low-cost models which you can buy for your own garden. This is a pedestal lantern (in Japanese tachidōrō 立ち灯籠) of which there are some twenty subtypes. The style pictured here is commonly called Kasuga-dōrō (春日灯籠).

You can buy lanterns carved from actual stone, but get out your checkbook. Even the smaller ones can cost over $10,000. No wonder Worlds of Fun went with concrete.

This is a kind of stone pagoda—a tower—and not a lantern. Curiously, such stone pagodas and lanterns which are covered in moss and other aged distressing are considered more valuable. But here we lose points for the concrete.

Thematic design is also not only a distillation, it’s also quite often a collage. So in this “traditional” garden setting we see Japanese forms, Chinese forms, and more generic pan-Asian forms. Sumo wrestler becomes the Buddha and back again.

Just to the right of the Bamboozler building, which is quite Thai-inspired, we have these public restrooms, which are housed in a (surprisingly) authentic Japanese structure. I’ve been to public baths in Japan, and this strikes me as completely legit (except for the paint-by-numbers job).

Where would cultural appropriation be without depressing, poor quality typography? And I won’t even comment on the problematic nature of henna tattoo art. Best to let that one lie.

Another pagoda. This time with a decidedly Midwestern roof shingle treatment.

But they still managed to curve up those eaves.

Again like I saw in the Africa area, we’ve got some Lithos-looking type with an inline element added into the graphic mix. I don’t know why an inline Neuland/Lithos is a seemingly the only shortcut for “exotic and/or ethnic” for many American designers. But there you have it.

Here’s something I did not know: the English “Rickshaw” is Japanese in origin. Dating back to the 1870s, we get the word from jinrikisha (人力車, 人 jin = human, 力 riki = power, 車 sha= vehicle), which literally translates to “human-powered vehicle.” But of course the designers of Worlds of Fun probably didn’t know that. They were just looking for some tacky alliteration. “Richard” certainly isn’t Japanese—it’s about as white European royalty as you can get.

Ricky’s (sorry!) shop is closely guarded by more than one imperial guardian lion—something authentically Chinese.

Yet just across the path in a neighboring planter is a stone pagoda in the Japanese style. It’s all a melange—a design soup of “Asian-ness.”

Spinning Dragons is a small coaster which opened in the Orient area in 2004 after the demise of Orient Express (more on this in my next post). I like the elaborate nature of the ride’s logo and typography, but like so much 2000–2010s design, it’s very video game / sports team / energy. And—of course—more bold red and yellow, because this is Orient!

Speaking of bold red, Coke seems like a more natural fit here than in other parts of Worlds of Fun. This outlet was added relatively recently (within the past decade), but the designers still took care to give the Coca-Cola pagoda the very same garish features to match the other older ones in Orient.

Africa area, Worlds of Fun 1973 souvenir park map poster. — *Africa* area, Worlds of Fun 1973 souvenir park map poster.

I Bless the Rains Down in Africa

The other themed area which I found fairly ridiculous from a cultural perspective is Africa. Just like Orient it’s trapped in a pre-social consciousness amber. Which I found a bit odd, because Worlds of Fun opened in 1973, at the height of the Blaxploitation era. Then again, this is Kansas City. Missouri has an unfortunate and long, bloody history—owing to its status as a border state—of ugly race relations.

There were moments of stark contrast as I snapped photos. Many of the frontline staff at Worlds of Fun are African Americans, such as the young man walking by here.

I’d been extremely curious to know what these young people think of this theming, because the “jungle tribalism” on display is beyond tacky. It’s crudely cartoonish.

Yet again, Neuland is the go-to typeface for a lot of the signage. And some very extreme zebra patterns, like something you’d find in Elvis’ Jungle Room at Graceland.

The buildings themselves are not super awful. It’s the kind of thing you see in zoos and wildlife preserves all over the United States—raw wood and corrugated metal roof construction that telegraphs “jungle.”

Africa area, Disney’s Animal Kingdom, 2007. — *Africa* area, Disney’s Animal Kingdom, 2007.

The only park I’ve ever visited that has managed to avoid all these design tropes is Animal Kingdom at Walt Disney World. And they had a ton of money and research behind the development of that park, so I get it.

Their Africa area is set in fictional east African port village called “Harambe.” Disney’s designers went out of their way to avoid depicting the continent as a jungle cartoon devoid of people. Instead it feels like Sub-Saharan Africa today. It feels lived in, all the way down to the tattered electrical wiring and scattered television aerials.

The designers of Worlds of Fun neither had the time, nor the money, nor the inclination for such an approach. There is a mix of Central African jungle and North African desert however. As you wrap a corner you come into what looks like Morocco or Tunisia.

The theming is sparse. But the radically different architecture manages to convey the shift in locale without that much detail.

The ‘open air market’ look is co-opted here to house carnival games. But still it’s played as passably realistic.

And what’s this though? Quite cartoonish—straight out of Disney’s Aladdin (the 1992 animated version or the recent live action remake).

Cooper Black lets us know this is home to the “Moroccan Merchant.” Stereotype much, Worlds of Fun? Worst of all, this is a crazy discount store—the equivalent of Dollar Tree. “Everything must go” markdowns, etc. I’m assuming they can still get away with this today because a.) this is Kansas City and b.) racist depictions of Arabs are the only legitimate, overt forms of racism left in the United States.

Here we have a knock-off Moai (those very large heads on Easter Island). This is an icon which has become more popular in recent years due to the revival of polynesian pop, and the tiki bars and mugs which go along with it. This fella sits outside the queue area for a standard Vekoma Boomerang which opened in 2000. The park had it plopped down in the Africa section, but given the coaster’s name, the area around it is a sort of loosely themed as a mini-Australia / Micronesia.

The real Moai are on a Chilean island off the coast of South America, but they are related to similar statuary found in the South Seas. So I’ll give Worlds of Fun a pass on this. But I bet this one doesn’t have a full body underneath it like the real Moai!

I didn’t ride it, but just adjacent to this area is a standard Intamin river rapids ride with an Egyptian theme, Fury of the Nile. I’ve been to the Nile River, and they sure don’t have any rapids like this. These rough waters showed up at Worlds of Fun in 1984.

Eleven years after the park opened, and they still opted for full-on cartoon depictions of hieroglyphics.

And of course, “Mummy’s Yummys.” Ancient Egypt (like Ancient Rome, Ancient Greece, or Ancient China) is totally acceptable as a full-blown cartoon, even today. It’s as if these societies are so long-dead, we can’t very well offend anyone—failed civilizations can totally be mocked. They failed, after all.

Worlds of Fun 1974 souvenir park map poster.

A New Cultural Map

As sort of a postscript, let’s have a look at the very next year’s poster map after Worlds of Fun opened. It’s a completely new design, and all the original white boy caricatures have been removed. In fact, the only humans shown are park guests. Everyone else is an animal.

Africa area, Worlds of Fun 1974 souvenir park map poster. — *Africa* area, Worlds of Fun 1974 souvenir park map poster.

Who was only the year before a colonial “jungle explorer” is now a silly looking ape wearing the pith helmet this time and (of course) snacking on a banana. Still no people of color in sight—but this is a common trope across all sorts of media. To show “Africa” you just show “wildlife.” It’s like no one actually lives there. Certainly no one black.

Orient area, Worlds of Fun 1974 souvenir park map poster. — *Orient* area, Worlds of Fun 1974 souvenir park map poster.

Over in Orient, everyone’s been eliminated all together. No white boy “Asian,” no animal characters, no park guests, no nothing. Visually, the area’s trained dolphin show Fins & Flippers (1973–1996) appears to have taken center stage. Because, you know, Asia?

I can only speculate as to why this new map for 1974. But I’d like to think that someone in management decided (perhaps urged on by some comments from the public) that the caricatures as originally drawn were in poor taste.

When I was strolling around the Europa area, I spotted this sign. As the Urban Dictionary suggests, paisano is sort of the equivalent of “fellow countryman” or “hommie” for Italians Americans. The Racial Slur Database doesn’t list it as a pejorative term, but it would appear that the shortened form, paisa, is used to disparage Mexican Americans in some contexts. So this theme park pizzaria sign isn’t insulting, exactly. Instead it’s merely tacky. It’s a joke that’s too on the nose. It would be like calling a French bistro “Chez Francais.”

I titled this post “Can Theming Be Racist?” because I don’t have an answer. Can thematic design be culturally insensitive? Well I would venture that all forms of design are cultural artifacts, and as products of one culture or another, they can certainly be insensitive to one or another culture. And I think that’s what I took away from my visit to Worlds of Fun—that key notion of other. It’s the same reason Martin Scorsese gets a pass for trafficking in Italian American Mafia stereotypes. There’s an authenticity of experience and expression there.

But at least none of his films ever featured a “Paisano’s Pizza” joint.

Continued in Part 4.

Worlds of Fun - Part 2: Around the Worlds in (About) Eight Hours.

July 28, 2019 by Dave Gottwald

As I mentioned in my last post, Kansas City’s Worlds of Fun was inspired by the Oscar-winning film Around the World in 80 Days (1956). As such, the themed areas or “worlds” are Americana, Europa, Africa, Scandinavia, and Orient. From here I’ll detail each land in the order I found them during my visit.

Scandinavia

Because of the removal of the park’s Americana gate in 1998, the first “world” guests have encountered since is actually the Scandinavia area, at what was once the rear of the property. This is what I first walked into after coming through the newly designed main gate. As described in the original 1973 Worlds of Fun souvenir guidebook, this is Scandinavia:

Enjoy the Ski Heis Sky Ride. The sailing ship “Victrix,” a three-masted man-of-war schooner which sailed the high seas in many Hollywood movies, has been reconstructed as a cannon firing range. The Viking Voyager is a flume ride through the Fjords of the North Sea. Visit the Alpine Animal Village—a petting zoo for all ages. Clap your hands and stomp your feet. You won’t be able to stay in your seat as you enjoy the musical review in the giant Tivoli Playhouse. Take a dipping, diving ski slope ride down the Schussboomer.

Vintage postcard, original Scandinavia area. — Vintage postcard, original *Scandinavia* area.

Sounds exciting, right? Unfortunately, very little of this original, fairly detailed theming remains today. In fact, the only thing the above photograph has in common with today’s Scandinavia is the dense trees in the background.

Vintage postcard, Victrix (1973–1993). — Vintage postcard, *Victrix (*1973–1993).

For many years, guests could fire small cannons from the deck of Victrix at targets floating in the lake. By the late eighties the ship had thoroughly deteriorated and much of its wooden structure was rotted. Victrix was thus scuttled and removed in 1993.

There are still themed pockets of woodwork in and around where the ship was docked for so many years. This small structure now serves as a smoking section and is home to a Coke machine.

Other elements are tied to a Nordic aesthetic of the area but in a cheesier, more carnival fair way. Sea Dragon (added in 1994) is your classic “large swinging boat” ride.

Vintage postcard, Sky Hi (Ski Heis) headed towards Scandinavia (1973–1987). — Vintage postcard, **Sky Hi (Ski Heis)** headed towards *Scandinavia* (1973–1987).

Guests could once arrive at Scandinavia via a Von Roll aerial gondola. The station at this location was called “Ski Heis” which is simply Norwegian for a “ski lift.” More on this gondola later.

The signature attraction for Scandinavia remains however—a classic Arrow log flume ride called Viking Voyager. I was actually impressed with how well the queue building has been upkept; the paint looked relatively shiny and new. And the lettering works, despite being pretty seventies.

What’s so cool and unique about this log ride is that, well, there aren’t any “logs.” As the Worlds of Fun website notes, the boats are themed appropriately and “armored and adorned in the style of Vikings ships that sailed the Scandinavian seas.”

Viking Voyager in 1973. — **Viking Voyager** in 1973.

The original boats were adorned with dragon heads affixed to their bows, but in 1993 (the same year Victrix was destroyed) they were replaced by brightly colored, headless boats still in use today. Fans speculate it was due to weight or perhaps they obscured guest faces for on-ride photos. Either way they appear to be missed.

The rest of the Scandinavia area is a mishmash of some decently designed, freshly painted buildings. And a bunch of stuff which just doesn’t fit at all.

No attempt whatsoever was made to integrate Cedar Fair regular Chickie & Pete’s. At both Cedar Point and Valleyfair I found the location of the chain restaurant to be more or less appropriate (in either an Americana or Old West setting). Here it’s been dropped from the sky into a Nordic area.

At least the trimmings and colors here are pretty good. But pizza in Norway?

Other retail locations and eateries throughout have been somewhat genericized, though you can still spot a bit of Nordic-style trim at the apex of this roof gable.

Vintage postcard, Schussboomer (1973–1984). — Vintage postcard, **Schussboomer** (1973–1984).

Long since removed is this Schwarzkopf “Wildcat” model coaster, Schussboomer. That routed blackletter sign is fantastic; I would have loved to have seen it in person.

Africa

From Scandinavia I continued on, underneath a railroad trestle. And things began to get cheesier. However, from the 1973 Worlds of Fun promotional literature, you’d have assumed they were going for authenticity:

Enjoy an African Safari where you will explore the deepest corners of the African Continent. Unknown excitement lurks behind each bush and boulder as you steer your jeep along the African Safari. Zigzag with blinding speed through jungle trees on the Zambezi Zinger, one of the world’s tallest and fastest rides. Test your marksmanship in the Big Game Hunt.

As with Scandinavia, most of this is long gone. The “zebra-striped jeeps” of The Safari only lasted five years. Zambezi Zinger, a much beloved roller coaster, made it all the way to the late nineties (more about this ride in a future post).

Many of the structures are simply country shacks painted in bright colors. There is an aura of generic “tribal culture” throughout—obviously nothing like the attention to detail you’d find at Disney’s Animal Kingdom. It’s probably more similar to San Diego Zoo Safari Park or Busch Gardens Tampa Bay.

Just around to the left after entering the Africa area from Scandinavia is now Prowler, a fantastic wooden coaster from Great Coasters International which opened in 2009.

Typographically, wherever and whenever “Africa” is expressed, you tend to find the inline variant of the wood type Neuland, hand-carved in 1923 by German Rudolf Koch.

Although I’d like to blame Jurassic Park (1993), well before that franchise’s logo came along the face had a long history of evoking the “Dark Continent” and other jungle-like settings, and these designs are culturally problematic (to say the least).

I was disappointed in the theming for Prowler. Although wooden roller coasters typically don’t need much (at least when they’re in a Western setting), the load station has some tropical tin roofing and that’s about it. They could have done more, possibly suggesting a mining operation or a jungle tour company.

Elsewhere in Africa, Worlds of Fun isn’t shy about making connections with Jurassic Park. In this case, however, they got the typography wrong. This isn’t Neuland, but some handpainted Lithos which was designed by Carol Twombly in 1989 and is based on Ancient Greek letterforms. To the layperson it resembles Neuland a bit, and thus shares its problematic stereotyped past.

The jungle theme continues towards the far back of Worlds of Fun. Mamba (1998) is a steel hypercoaster which faces Oceans of Fun, a companion water park that opened in 1982. Mamba is the younger sister of Wild Thing (1996) at Valleyfair and Steel Force (1997) at Dorney Park; all three have a very similar layout and general specifications.

The load station for Mamba was inexpensive (not surprising for a Cedar Fair park), but also subtle and kind of clever (which is surprising). The Victorian metalwork and glass skylights really reminded me of the famed Crystal Palace at the Great Exhibition of 1851 in Hyde Park, London. Given the colonialist flavor of both the exhibition and that era in general, this makes sense for a coaster named after a species of extremely venomous snake supposedly set in the jungles of Africa.

The rest of the Africa area includes some Moroccan and Egyptian stylings—really terrible stuff—but I’ll be looking more closely at that in my next post.

Europa

Moving along, the area in about the center of the Worlds of Fun property has a European theme. As the 1973 marketing copy describes:

Ride the Le Taxitour where guests will drive antique French Taxis along beautifully landscaped hillside roads. Arrive at Moulin Rouge, a 300 seat indoor theatre, and be treated to a musical travelog show. Whirl like a windmill on the Flying Dutchman. Ride der Fender Bender—the bumper-crunching autobahn. Stroll the tree-lined promenade with its brightly colored shops.

As with many themed lands representing “Europe” at parks around the world, bits of national iconography are carved out. This appears to be the “Italian” district. No rides, just a (closed) pizza place.

As I’ve seen at other Cedar Fair parks, Coca-Cola tends to set up shop no matter what the theme of a particular area happens to be and where its setting is. Although there is an appropriate irony here at Worlds of Fun—nothing is more American than Coke, yet you find it all over the world in just about every culture. Disney handles this kind of sponsorship with greater authenticity; for example, at Animal Kingdom the Coca-Cola logos are rendered in the actual languages in which you’d find them. Not so at Cedar Fair.

Just like at Cedar Point (and now again at Kings Island), Worlds of Fun has an autopia-style, drive-your-own car ride. Originally there were two such rides at the park, the other being the aforementioned The Safari (1973–1978). But Le TaxiTour is still here. The queue building features an Eiffel Tower-style roof element, which reinforces the cheesy pun of the ride’s name (the landmark is called “tour Eiffel” in French).

The vehicles are styled as antique Fords very similar to those found at other Cedar Fair parks.

I found the ride pleasant and the grounds well kept.

Despite the French name and setting, there are bits of vintage Americana car culture sprinkled throughout in the form of authentic antique signage.

I particularly appreciated the lettering on this Firestone specimen.

But not so fast. The rest of the signage in and around the Europa area drips with seventies cheese. The warping on this Autobahn Fraktur text is particularly egregious. Autobahn is the park’s classic bumper car attraction.

The dimensional title sign for Falcon’s Flight fairs a bit better. This carnival-style spinner ride was added for the 2017 season, so the cheese here is more of a 2010s energy drink / sports team variety.

Americana

After walking under another railroad trestle, Europa connects with what once was the opening act for Worlds of Fun—Americana.

The two trestles between themed areas at Worlds of Fun.

This is the second time a trestle has been used as a transition zone between themed areas; I crossed under the railroad tracks from Scandinavia into Africa as well. I suspect the design intention is the same as the covered bridges at Six Flags Great America—it’s a nice quick and dirty shortcut for moving spatially between themes.

And although I might bring bias from being so familiar with the Disneyland entrance into Main Street USA under their railroad via two tunnels, I do think there is an organic aspect to this approach which famed architect Frank Lloyd Wright referred to as “compression and release.”

Passing under the railway tracks (either via a tunnel or a trestle) provides a micro of this experience. Your vision narrows in the passage, allowing for a visual “wipe” of the theme you’re leaving, and then you emerge and the vista opens up in a brand new setting, waiting to be explored.

In 1973, Americana was described in park literature as being a land of:

Turn-of-the-century atmosphere with lush gardens, stately structures, and the famous riverboat “Cotton Blossom.” Also enjoy a step back in time when entering Americana’s “Westward Ho” era. Wander the bustling streets and browse the old time shops of historic Kansas City. Walk the 9th Street Incline…water really does flow uphill! “Grab some grub” at the Vittle Griddle and board the huffing, puffing, fire belching WORLDS OF FUN Train at the Union Depot.

Vintage postcard, Cotton Blossom (1973–1995). — Vintage postcard, **Cotton Blossom** (1973–1995).

Americana was once home to the third full-size boat at Worlds of Fun, Cotton Blossom. Just like Victrix it was purchased at an MGM backlot auction. Cotton Blossom was most fondly remembered for being the primary set piece in Show Boat (1951). The vessel served as the platform for the opening ceremony for Worlds of Fun on May 26, 1973, but that wasn’t enough to save it from wood rot. It was scrapped at the end of the 1995 season. There is now a namesake BBQ restaurant in the same location which opened in 2019.

Americana - “Westward Ho”

The Worlds of Fun Railroad is a 36" narrow gauge line with a single stop in Americana, Union Depot. The route is loop of just over a mile, pulled by a single locomotive named ELI which was manufactured by Crown Metal Products of Pennsylvania. Crown Metal also provided the two engines for Kings Island’s narrow gauge railroad as well as several other parks before going bankrupt in 1989.

Union Depot was small and charming, and reminded me of the original Frontierland station at Disneyland (which is now part of the New Orleans Square area of the park). The trope of listing a town’s elevation—something actually done at many early railroad depots, and followed through at Disneyland—is proudly displayed, with “Kansas City” as the location rather than “Americana” or “Worlds of Fun.”

Vintage postcard, Sky-Hi station in Americana (1973–1987). — Vintage postcard, **Sky-Hi** station in *Americana* (1973–1987).

Riding the train is a wonderful way to take in the lush landscaping of the Worlds of Fun property. But for nearly a decade and a half, you could admire the park from the air too.

The two Von Roll gondola stations still exist. Underlay map data: Ⓒ Google.

The Von Roll type 101 sky ride route roughly ran northeast to southwest and back (here I’ve rotated the satellite view vertically). The station in Americana labeled the ride “Sky Hi” while the station in Scandinavia called the gondola “Ski Heis.”

Vintage postcard, Sky-Hi (Ski Heis) headed towards Americana (1973–1987). — Vintage postcard, **Sky-Hi (Ski Heis)** headed towards *Americana* (1973–1987).

Like so many Von Roll sky rides, Sky Hi/Ski Heis was victim to both high maintenance costs and insurance liabilities. Once a staple of amusement parks, theme parks, and zoos across the country, there are only eight permanent installations left in the United States.

I didn’t spot the former Ski Heis station when I was walking through Scandinavia (today it’s a picnic facility), but I did find the Sky Hi Americana station, which is now a red barn featuring carnival games.

Directly across the way from Union Depot is some kind of Wild West structure in garish colors. This was originally added to the park in 1981 as an ice cream parlor, and fourteen years later it was converted into a full service Tex-Mex joint called Blue Bronco. On the day visited it was Battle Creek BBQ, but for the 2019 season it reverted to Tex-Mex and is called Prospector's Cantina.

Plenty of generic “country cottage” style structures serving pizza and other fast food options seemed to be around every turn in Americana.

If I see another Subway Sandwich outlet dressed as a country cabin…

Just like at many other Cedar Fair and Six Flags parks, there are generic “Old West” style buildings scattered throughout, many of them with garishly bright paint jobs and signage.

Some of the structures were decked out in more muted colors and actually quite well-maintained.

This one cropping had real Ghost Town at Knott’s Berry Farm vibes. Everything from the varied storefronts to mismatched materials to faux aging. What to call this? It’s sort of authentically theme park.

Cyclone Sam's is an interesting twist on a classic seated spinner ride. The Wobble Wheel (1977–1993) sat here prior, and was a similar contraption. What makes this experience unique is that it’s indoors in the dark with various cyclone and tornado effects. The exterior barn reminded me of Disney’s Splash Mountain.

Americana - “Bicentennial Square”

Around the corner from the “Westward Ho” section of Americana, I came to something quite eerie. Here was a back corner of the park which appeared to be completely abandoned.

Copious Victorian Gingerbread everywhere, but no people.

Most of the carnival games were boarded up, closed.

Further back, there looked to be a kind of Christmas village.

Indeed Worlds of Fun does run a Winterfest event on select nights in November and December.

So does this back corner of the park simply sit dormant until then?

The whole thing was very odd. And I know I’ve used this analogy before, but it felt like an old episode of the Twilight Zone. Particularly the pilot, “Where is Everybody?”.

The only draw seemed to be a traditional wooden coaster called Timber Wolf.

The coaster was added to Worlds of Fun in 1989, and doesn’t have any theming or other design elements except for the woodsy landscaping.

Looking around at the queue area out in front of Timber Wolf, I saw a stream and several ponds. There were also concrete pavers. What could have sat here before?

Vintage brochure featuring the debut of Screamroller (1976–1988). — Vintage brochure featuring the debut of **Screamroller** (1976–1988).

As it turns out, the signature attraction for “Bicentennial Square” (basically its single biggest draw) was an Arrow Corkscrew model called Screamroller. This was the fifth of the total first ten Corkscrew clones built between 1975 and 1979.

Worlds of Fun 1976 souvenir park map poster featuring Bicentennial Square. — Worlds of Fun 1976 souvenir park map poster featuring *Bicentennial Square*.

For the 1983 season, Screamroller was converted to a stand up coaster (the first such ride in the United States) and renamed Extremeroller. The standing configuration was too stressful on the coaster’s superstructure, and it was reverted to a seated model in 1984. The new name stuck, however, until Extremeroller was removed four years later.

The opening of “Bicentennial Square” at Worlds of Fun in 1976 was part of a patriotic wave that swept over amusement parks and theme parks all across the United States. Today there doesn’t even appear to be any Bicentennial signage and it’s not designated on park maps. The entire area—the former entry plaza, “Westward Ho” and “Bicentennial Square” are collectively simply called Americana.

Thirty years later, though, patriotism was back.

Patriot is a Bolliger & Mabillard inverted steel roller coaster in the Batman fashion. Pretty standard fare for a Cedar Fair or Six Flags park. There are some small Colonial thematic trappings throughout the queue area such as these eagle statuary.

The ride’s souvenir store is presented as a classic ol’ timey American country home.

Just like at Disney parks these days, the go-to for period-appropriate American typography is the venerable Letterhead Fonts.

Orient

The last “land” I encountered at Worlds of Fun was the Orient area. The theming going on here is a melange of middle class white American notions of “Asia-ness” as frozen in the early seventies. It’s all so intense, garish and bizarre that I’ll be saving most of my photos and thoughts for my next post.

True to cultural indifference, in early park promotional literature, this area is referred to as both “Oriental” and “Orient.” From the 1973 guidebook:

Enjoy the alluring Oriental gardens along the ancient and mysterious waterways of the Far East. Challenge the tangling tentacles of the Octopus and delight to the amazing antics of the Dolphins at the Fins and Flippers Show.

Original Torii Gate (1973–1999). — Original **Torii Gate** (1973–1999).

For many years, as guests entered the Orient area from Americana they walked through a traditional Japanese torii gate which is typically found at the entrance to a Shinto shrine (signifying a physical transition between the profane and sacred). I’m not sure why it was removed—doubtful it was cultural sensitivity. I’m going with the same culprit which doomed the ships of Worlds of Fun; wood rot.

Some structures appears to be influenced by Thai design.

Traditional Japanese gardens blend with Chinese and Korean iconography. And red. Lots and lots of red.

It was certainly surprising to find a Panda Express outlet in an aesthetically and somewhat culturally appropriate context (even though the food is still terrible). I’m used to seeing these at Cedar Fair and Six Flags parks in everything from Southern to Colonial to Old West structures.

Next I’ll be delving into such problematic design issues in more detail, not just in the Orient area but all throughout Worlds of Fun.

Continued in Part 3.

Worlds of Fun - Part 1: A Tale of Two Gates

July 24, 2019 by Dave Gottwald

Worlds of Fun, located in Kansas City, Missouri, was something of a destination of convenience. I had purchased an annual pass for all the Cedar Fair parks for my planned multi-day trips to Cedar Point and Kings Island, and I was looking for other parks owned by the chain which I could factor into my return drive.

To that list I added Michigan’s Adventure and Valleyfair just outside Minneapolis. Worlds of Fun also happened to be close enough along my way, and allowed me stop by Walt Disney’s childhood home of Marceline, Missouri as I came into town.

Again, my approach is to visit these places “fresh” and to not do much in the way of research ahead of time. All I knew was that the park opened in the early seventies, had geographic themes, and was scooped up by Cedar Fair in the mid-nineties.

Worlds of Fun, satellite view. Click for link. Map data: Ⓒ Google.

As evident in this satellite image, Worlds of Fun is lushly landscaped, and I found this to be one of the park’s strengths, both as visual charm and as relieve from the summer humidity of Kansas City. The park was designed by Southern California firm R. Duell & Associates, who also developed Six Flags Over Texas, the Great America parks for Marriott, and many other such developments.

What would another Cedar Fair park be without a hyperbolic map design? As usual, proportion (particularly the heights of various attractions) is played fast and loose. The park also appears to be far less lush than it actually is.

Contrast that with the delectable illustration style of the park’s maps from the early years. So rich you can almost taste it. And so green! The orientation of this representation is also very, very different from today’s park maps (something I’ll get into).

Worlds of Fun original hot air balloon marketing.

Know What I Mean, Verne?

Worlds of Fun was the brainchild of Lamar Hunt (noted professional sports icon, founder and owner of the Kansas City Chiefs and his business partner Jack Stedman. The meta-theme for the park upon opening was the epic motion picture Around the World in 80 Days (1956) which was adapted from the 1873 Jules Verne novel of the same name. The plot that drives the film is a wager between a rich Victorian Englishman, Phileas Fogg, and four fellow members of his private club that he can circumnavigate the globe in eighty days. Despite my love of Verne (especially Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea and its 1954 Disney film adaptation) this struck me as odd. I’d never seen this film—in fact, I’d barely even heard of it. But apparently it was nominated for eight Academy Awards and won five, including Best Picture. Since the park opened in 1973, some fifteen years after the win, this must have felt like a safe bet by the park’s investors and designers; most opening day guests would surely remember the film.

The original logo for Worlds of Fun features a hot air balloon, as Fogg begins his journey by departing from Paris in one. Since no such balloon appears in Verne’s source novel, this iconic usage links the park explicitly to the Oscar-winning film adaptation.

We chose the large, multicolored ascension balloon for our symbol because it represents fun, adventure and travel reminiscent of the movie, Around the World in 80 Days. These are the things we want Worlds of Fun to represent. — Jack Steadman, 1971.

Worlds of Fun original logomark.

If the typeface here feels super early seventies, well it is. And if it further reminds you of The Partridge Family (1970–74), then good eye. The custom lettering for the original Worlds of Fun wordmark is based on the same Art Nouveau script used for the titles of that show: Kalligraphia. Although first cut in 1902 by German type founder Otto Weisert, Kalligraphia experienced a huge revival when it was converted to phototypesetting in the mid-sixties.

The Partridge Family opening title card, 1970. — *The Partridge Family* opening title card, 1970.

That’s why even today we associate this script with hippies, Woodstock, and, well that Partridge Family titles sequence. Many of those German Art Nouveau faces came back in a big way in the phototype era, and have communicated the seventies ever since. The wordmark for a nineties television take on the decade, That 70s Show, was set in another such face designed by Otto Weisert: Arnold Boecklin.

Making an Entrance

As I approached Worlds of Fun from the parking lot, I was struck by the overall grandeur and compelling design of the entry plaza. It felt brand new, and in fact, it was. When I visited the park in July of 2017, this new gate structure had just been unveiled for the season. The entire plaza and its buildings were executed by Bleck & Bleck Architects of Libertyville, Illinois. The firm had already designed several projects for Six Flags Great America in their home state prior to being hired by Worlds of Fun.

Old Billingsgate Market. Bill Rand/flickr. — Old Billingsgate Market. *Bill Rand/flickr*.

What’s surprising to me is that the design actually reinforces the park’s original theme; the opening setting for Around the World in 80 Days is London. As the firm notes on their website:

The entrance gate’s design was inspired by European architecture that followed the industrial revolution. We took cues from London’s Billingsgate Market, designed in the Italianate style in 1875 by City architect Sir Horace Jones.

I also loved the large iconic hot air balloon statue placed prominently in the center of the entry plaza. This was a smart marketing move, as Bleck & Bleck explain that “a colorful new hot air balloon structure provides the perfect backdrop for your first social media image of the day.”

In the early years, a similar (much less detailed) balloon once stood as guests approached the Worlds of Fun parking lot in their cars. So despite the park’s name being rendered in the more generic Cedar Fair chain style, this is still a wonderful touch and an appropriate nod to the park’s history.

Right after walking through the new plaza and gate, however, there are immediate thematic collisions. Something doesn’t quite feel right. In fact, “Plaza Gifts” used to be a more nondescript arcade before being repurposed as a convenient souvenir stop on your way out of the park after a long day.

Worlds of Fun 1997 souvenir park map poster.

This is because since opening day in 1973 until the late nineties, Worlds of Fun had two park entrances, shown here in the bottom left and right corners of this map. The original main park entrance plaza, lower right, was served by trams from the parking lot. The secondary “back” entrance, lower left, was accessed on foot. It was secondary in consideration, and thus secondary in design and presentation. Just a back door, a quick way to get to the parking lot (and avoid potentially long lines for the tram).

Worlds of Fun, original primary park entrance.

Americana Plaza

Worlds of Fun opened with the following lands suggesting locations visited in Around the World in 80 Days: Americana, Europa, Orient, Africa, and Scandinavia. As the park was designed by Randall Duell and his team, these lands are organized around his Duell Loop model, with backstage areas located in the middle.

A sub-area was added to Americana in 1976 called “Bicentennial Square.” Two seasons later “Aerodrome” followed, also an addition to Americana. This became "Pandamonium!" in 1987, then a decade later was transformed into Berenstain Bear Country. The bears only lasted three seasons, until this part of Americana became Camp Snoopy for the 2001 season after Cedar Fair purchased the park. It was subsequently fleshed out and expanded as Planet Snoopy a decade later.

The primary park entrance in 1973 was at Americana, being that you “began” your global tour here in the United States, and then “navigated” to other more exotic locales. The geography of the rest of the original park layout roughly makes sense, as Africa is the furthest from this main entrance.

Vintage postcard, S.S. Henrietta (1973–1998). — Vintage postcard, *S.S. Henrietta* (1973–1998).

The ticket booths for Worlds of Fun at this main entrance sat just outside one of the park’s three ships (all of which have since been removed). Two of these ships were actually constructed by MGM and used in film productions—Cotton Blossom, a sternwheel paddle boat built for Show Boat (1951), and Victrix, a full scale four-masted schooner best remembered from All the Brothers Were Valiant (1953). Both were purchased at a backlot auction in 1971 along with other props used in the theming of Worlds of Fun.

I thought this was strange, as Around the World in 80 Days was produced by United Artists, not MGM. But I guess they weren’t selling off anything interesting that year. Thus this third ship, the S.S. Henrietta, is only a copy of the ship which UA built for the film. And it’s a very loose interpretation at that.

Promotional still for Around the World in 80 Days. — Promotional still for *Around the World in 80 Days*.

Here is the Henrietta as it appeared in the film.

Vintage postcard, original Americana main park entrance (1973–1998). — Vintage postcard, original *Americana* main park entrance (1973–1998).

And here’s what was built for Worlds of Fun.

Vintage postcard, original Americana plaza. — Vintage postcard, original *Americana* plaza.

Upon having their tickets taken and either cruising around or directly across the deck of the S.S. Henrietta via two planked walkways, guests originally encountered Americana Plaza. From the promotional and souvenir literature I’ve tracked down online, the idea was for guests to experience an early twentieth century Kansas City. From a 1973 Worlds of Fun brochure:

Your journey begins as you cross the gangplank of the S.S. Henrietta, Jules Vern’s [sic] famous steamship from “Around the World in 80 Days.” From there you’ll travel back in time to the rambunctious frontier and the gaslight gaiety of old Kansas City.

Because of the removal of the S.S. Henrietta and the Americana entry in 1998, guest orientation to the plaza today is essentially backwards. It’s sort of like only being able to walk down Main Street USA in reverse. As such, I really had no idea what I was actually looking at, emerging from behind the Cinnabon location pictured at the far left from the Orient area.

The architectural details appear to have been futzed with too, and sport garish paint schemes that scream “late nineties outlet mall.” I couldn’t find any historical documentation for the plaza being called “Front Street” so this is likely a newer designation.

At the park’s primary information booth I was able to chat it up with some young cast members about the changes to Worlds of Fun over the years, and the attractions which have been retired.

Worlds of Fun park guide maps, 1998 season (top) and 1999 season (bottom).

Among the things I learned was that the original entrance plaza area was converted for the 1999 season into the queue and grounds for a gasoline go-kart ride, Grand Prix Raceway. This lasted until 2013, and the following year a Mondial Windseeker swing ride called Steelhawk opened in its place (having been relocated from Knott’s Berry Farm after two incidents forced its closure).

This standalone Coca-Cola location was built in 2014 approximately where the S.S. Henrietta used to be. It was formerly the ticketing location for the Grand Prix Raceway which utilized some of the Henrietta’s original framing. These last remains of the ship were bulldozed completely to make room for Coke.

All of this is to say that the park’s layout is confounding for today’s guests. The S.S. Henrietta and Americana Plaza were designed to set the stage for a tour around the world (in about 8 hours), but now we come in through the back door and start in Scandinavia (which wasn’t even visited in Around the World in 80 Days) with options to head into Africa or Orient. Americana gets encountered last, and is now the “back” of the park. It’s quite a jumble. I’ll detailed these other themed areas next.

Continued in Part 2.

The "Real" Main Street U.S.A.

June 13, 2019 by Dave Gottwald

Marceline is a small town in northern Missouri some 90 miles from Kansas City with a population of less than 2,500 people. Initially this stop was not on my itinerary, but then I saw that it was pretty much directly between Valleyfair in Minnesota (where I had just left) and Worlds of Fun (where I was headed). A bit of a rural excursion off the interstate, but worth it I thought. Worth it because this is where Walt Disney lived with his family between the ages of four and nine.

So what? Well it’s quite possible that Walt overstated the influence of Marceline (nostalgic, rose-colored glasses and all), but he talked about his time there a great deal. In a letter to the town’s newspaper in 1938 he claimed, “To tell the truth, more things of importance happened to me in Marceline than have happened since—or are likely to in the future.”

Marceline in 1905. Missouri Historical Society. — Marceline in 1905. *Missouri Historical Society.*

What and Where is Main Street?

Brian Burnes, Robert W. Butler, and Dan Viets note in their Walt Disney's Missouri: The Roots of a Creative Genius (2002):

Wherever you look in Walt Disney’s art there are echoes of Marceline, from Disney’s tremendous affection for small-town, turn-of-the-century life to the boyhood experiences that were echoed and in expanded in his animated cartoons. In fact, Disney’s concept of what it means to be an American was directly inspired by those five seminal years of his childhood. In the pre-television years of this century, millions around the globe got their impressions of America from our movies. And when they saw Walt Disney’s movies, they were getting a huge dose of Marceline, Missouri.

Cinematic and Americana influence aside, however, the greatest impression Marceline made on Walt Disney was spatial. And that impression has spread across the world as part of the thematic design of the Disney Parks, from Paris to Hong Kong.

Marceline, satellite view. Click for link. Map data: Ⓒ Google.

“Main Street” as a concept developed after the Civil War and looks a bit different depending on which part of the United States you’re in. Marceline in particular is typical of one model that became extremely common during the 1890s–1910s, especially from the Midwest through the Great Plains to the Rockies. And this model is a cornerstone of American identity. As historian and cultural geographer Richard V. Francaviglia asserts in Main Street Revisited: Time, Space and Image Building in Small-town America (1996):

As it evolved in time and space, Main Street became the commercial and social heart of the American small town; as it developed in our collective thought, Main Street became an integral part of American culture. Because many people left small towns in the early to mid-twentieth century, these places became repositories of memories.

What Francaviglia is on about is that because daily life since the turn of the twentieth century has changed so dramatically, Main Street (as it was designed then) continues to be a source of nostalgia in American culture. It is a romantic place, a simple place, a safe place—as well as a slower place. A place before the automobile and highways and traffic and smartphones and fast food and even faster lives.

Vintage postcard of Marceline, probably around the time that Walt left.

Marceline was founded in 1887 by the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway. The Disney family only lived in the town for a relatively short period of time, arriving in April 1906 and leaving for Kansas City in the summer of 1911. The primary downtown drag actually wasn’t called “Main Street” but rather Kansas Avenue.

Many of the buildings I found look very much the same as those times. This vantage is nearly identical to the postcard above. Both feature the Zurcher Building to the right.

Le Musée du Disney

A few blocks away off to the side of downtown is the Walt Disney Hometown Museum. Unfortunately I was passing through town on a Sunday in the early evening, and it had already closed. The museum is housed in the town’s former Santa Fe Railroad Depot which has been meticulously restored. It had been vacant since about 1975, and when the museum began organizing in 1998, the city was in their seventh year of trying to raise the money to buy it. The railroad wanted to tear it down, but thanks in no small part to four generous locals, it was saved. The Walt Disney Hometown Museum subsequently opened in 2001.

It’s an appropriate site, not only because this served as both the Marceline port of entry and departure for young Walt, but also because it reflects his lifelong love of trains (which became an integral component of the Disney theme park model).

The entrance area is paved with bricks presumably paid for by museum donors.

Members of the Disney family contributed funds, and most of the items in the museum’s collection were provided by the family of Ruth Flora Disney Beecher, Walt's younger sister (1903–1995). More than 3,000 individual artifacts, actually.

Although part of me wishes I had arrived early enough in the day to visit the museum, the other part is grateful for exploring Marceline without the benefit (or coloring) of interpretation. I can only assume a museum such as this is quite hagiographic, and no doubt also filled with apocryphal accounts of things which “inspired” Walt or “provided the basis” for such and such in his creative works. For example, I later read that longtime Marceline resident Rush Johnson once claimed that a slag pile on the Disney family farm was the source for Disneyland’s Matterhorn. Not likely!

Ripley, Believe it or Not

A few steps from the museum is Ripley Park at the northeast end of downtown. A nearby sign reads:

In 1898, the Santa Fe Railway donated land in the center of the city for a park. Walt Disney played in this very park as a child and would later name the first steam engine installed in his Disneyland Resort the E.P. Ripley. As a tribute to our railroad history, the park features both a steam engine and caboose.

Thus the name E. P. Ripley is noteworthy to both Disneyland and American railroad history. Edward Payson Ripley (1845–1920) became president of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway in 1895 and held the position for over a quarter of a century. The company sponsored the Santa Fe & Disneyland Railroad from opening day until 1974; Santa Fe was then dropped from the attraction name.

The locomotive on display dates back to 1911. Atchison Topeka & Santa Fe bought it in 1928, and it received the number 2546. When decommissioned, the company donated it to the City of Marceline. Its public display in the park was dedicated in the last weeks of 1955, the year Disneyland opened.

The Disney brothers visit Marceline, 1956.

The very next year, brothers Walt and Roy visited Marceline and were received warmly by the town’s residents on the Fourth of July. Walt had previously returned to Marceline ten years prior, although many who have written about Disneyland’s origins don’t appear to be aware of it and presume his only recollections of the town were from childhood. He was observed taking handheld motion picture footage, and likely took still photographs as well.

Walt’s last visit to Marceline was in October of 1960, but he visited Kansas City twice more (May 1963 and October 1966) before his death.

Before the Disney brothers 1956 visit, the city added “Disneyland R.R.” to its paint job in honor of the Marceline / Santa Fe / Disneyland connection. The town owes its very existence to the railroad, after all.

I wasn’t able to find any information about the Santa Fe caboose which is also on display in the park.

A commemorative plaque notes the locomotive’s origin.

“Main Street USA”

After seeing the museum site and the park, I made my way downtown. As it was a Sunday, Marceline was completely deserted. Not even parked cars. Pretty much every business was closed. This, combined with the setting sun and then magic hour, gave things an eerie Twilight Zone kind of vibe.

The only thing the city appears to have done in the way marketing the Disney connection is to rename Kansas Avenue “Main Street USA” and install new street signs with Mickey Mouse ears up and down the drag. They’re small and inconspicuous; if I wasn’t looking for them I’m not sure I would have noticed.

Various business have adopted the new name and amended their addresses accordingly.

Kansas Avenue was bare dirt during the years the Disney family lived in Marceline. Like many such downtowns, in the rainy months the street turned into a disgusting river of mud and horse manure.

Kansas Avenue is bricked with pavers, 1912.

Brick paving was not added to portions of downtown until the year after Walt moved to Kansas City.

Reality, Fantasy, and Memory

I won’t lie—as I continued to poke around, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. The “Disney Version” has (for so many Americans) taken the place of the “Real” Main Street, so I too came expecting the mental images I had been primed with from years of visiting Disneyland as a child. At the very least I had anticipated some nostalgic restoration efforts, like countless small towns across the country have remodeled their own Main Streets to better reflect these popular expectations.

Main Street USA at Disneyland, 2007. — *Main Street USA* at Disneyland, 2007.

There’s very little actual Marceline DNA at the Disney Parks. Where the “Disney Version” lives is actually in Walt’s imagination—not even in his memory—as expressed by a number of designers who he had working on the project; men like Marvin Davis, Harper Goff, and John Hench. Yet Walt’s motivation wasn’t purely artistic. It was also psychological. In As Seen on TV: The Visual Culture of Everyday Life in the 1950s, professor of art history and American studies Karal Ann R. Marling describes his thinking:

To make a model—in the case of Disneyland, to recreate the Marceline, Missouri, of a turn-of-the-century boyhood—was to return to those happy, bygone times as a competent adult. To make a model was to construct or reconstruct one’s own biography. To make a model of an ideal past was to reject an imperfect present.

Forced perspective on Main Street USA, Disneyland, 2007. — Forced perspective on *Main Street USA*, Disneyland, 2007.

To realize this “model of an ideal past,” Main Street USA was famously designed using forced perspective. This is an art direction technique used in building movie sets in which structures get smaller as they get taller, making them feel larger than they actually are. The first floor of Disneyland’s Main Street is 7/8th life-size, the second is 5/8th, and the third story is approximately 1/2 scale.

Yet what we have at Marceline today is the imperfect present, as well as the town’s imperfect past. Many—if not most—of the buildings had vacancies, boarded up windows, dilapidated fronts. But there are a few historic gems that are managing to hang on.

The Allen Hotel Building (1906) sits across the street from the Zurcher Building. When Walt lived in Marceline, the hotel was upstairs and Murray’s Department Store was on the first floor, where his mother Flora often took him. The hotel is long gone (and the second story appears to be in pretty bad shape), but Murray’s continues on as consignment story. There is also now a cafe on the corner.

Hotel Marceline storefront at Disneyland, 2007.

While there are no structures directly resembling the Allen Hotel Building at any Disney Park, there is a tribute to Marceline’s boarding past at the original Disneyland. Tucked off Main Street USA on intersecting East Center Street (around the corner from the Market House) is the “Hotel Marceline” where ambient dialog of hotel guests can be heard from the second story window. I can’t help but think that the large, gray brickwork is perhaps a reference to the Allen Hotel. There are no other bricks like this on Main Street.

I’m not sure of the vintage of Marceline’s “post clock” or “street clock.” Although they were common throughout the United States after the Civil War, in more recent years companies have offered reproductions to small towns as nostalgic “sweeteners” for their renovated and Disneyfied Main Street districts.

The Uptown Theatre dates to well after Walt left town. A man named A.B. Canwell purchased the property in 1927 and three years later the theatre opened along with the Canwell Apartments upstairs.

Some cool neon featuring Deco Modern lettering which was very popular in 1930s.

There are a few signs around Marceline which point out Disney connections. For reasons unknown to me, the titles are set in Serpentine which dates to the early seventies and is commonly used in science fiction films and on men’s hygiene products.

As the sign notes, during their mid-century visit, Walt and Roy screened their Civil War adventure The Great Locomotive Chase (1956). Disney was quoted in the press as telling the packed house, “I lived in Marceline. My best memories are the years that I spent here. You children are lucky to live here.” On July 14, 1998, the Walt Disney Company returned to Marceline and premiered The Spirit of Mickey (1998) at the Uptown. Each child was given a nifty commemorative ticket and the movie was shown for free.

Unfortunately the theater was closed in 2014. A non-profit assumed ownership in 2016 with plans to reopen, but so far no progress has been made.

The Main Street Cinema at Disneyland, 2007.

Walt did see his very first motion picture in Marceline, either at the opera house (which burned down in the fifties) or the Aerodrome which opened in town during those years. He once recalled that the film was a silent picture about the life of Jesus Christ, and although we have no confirmation, based on the release date it was probably either The Passion Play (French, 1903) or The Birth, the Life and the Death of Christ (Italian, 1906).

The Main Street Cinema at Disneyland is a tribute to these early moviehouses.

I found a few buildings in Marceline that may have been movie theaters at one time or another. This one actually has similar proportions to the Main Street Cinema above, along with a long, flat marquee element.

The striped awnings pictured here were common during the first half of the twentieth century, and that’s one design element which has indeed been carried over to the Disney Main Street USA model.

The Magic Kingdom at Walt Disney World, 2007.

Despite the awnings, on the second Main Street USA at Walt Disney World’s Magic Kingdom, all the design elements are even further removed from Marceline. In particular, both scale and voice were dialed up to hyperbolic levels. “Small Town Americana” was morphed and mutated into “Grand Victoriana.”

Marceline only has a few remaining lighted signs, neon or otherwise. The Pepsi-Cola logo on display dates to before the 1940s, but I can’t be sure if it’s original or a reproduction.

There are a good deal more signs hanging from the buildings on the Main Street USA at the Disney Parks. Naturally, there’s no neon giving the setting of 1910 or so.

I was surprised by the amount of brick in Marceline. The Disney Parks feature lots of wood paneling (or faux wood—fiberglass is actually used in construction) mixed in with brick work on their Main Streets. I couldn’t find sign of any business on the ground floor. Sadly the windows on the second floor have all been ‘bricked in.’

The other thing which surprised me overall were the proportions. Most of the buildings along Marceline’s downtown drag were long. Conversely, the Disney Parks cram many narrower structures together. This single grouping on the southeast side of the street came the closest to the visual density of the Disney Main Street USA.

On this single northeast block of Main Street USA there are ten individual facades.

Conversely, this was the most visually dense and diverse block in Marceline. Half of it unoccupied.

Main Streets Around the World

According to my research, The Zurcher Building is the only structure which can be directly dusted for fingerprints at Disneyland. It was built in 1892, with the second floor added in 1903, the year Zurcher Jewelers began occupying the place. They stayed for sixty years.

The Zurcher Building was the inspiration for Coke Corner at the northwest end of Main Street USA. Note that the original in Marceline still has a large Coca-Cola mural painted alongside it, and it also sits on a northwest corner. Obviously the Disney Version is much embellished and far more fanciful than its distant Marceline cousin.

Another nearly identical building called Main Street Sweets exists halfway around the world at Hong Kong Disneyland (2005). This is the first and only time that Main Street USA from the original Disneyland has been duplicated, most likely for cost-saving. Each and every facade is nearly identical to its twin in Anaheim, although there were small aesthetic changes made for context. For example, the “Penny Arcade” was renamed “Centennial Hall” because the site of the Hong Kong park is called “Penny’s Bay.” The street is also covered entirely in brick pavers, whereas at Disneyland only the sidewalks are bricked.

Casey’s Corner at The Magic Kingdom (1971) is something quite different altogether, although the sponsor is still Coca-Cola. In fact, it looks rather like a large house.

Walt Disney World opened in Orlando, Florida five years after Walt Disney died, but preliminary design work for it began before he passed away. The Magic Kingdom park is based on the layout of the original Disneyland with improvements in mostly organization and landscaping. This second Main Street USA is more broadly Victorian in design, and much larger than the one at Disneyland. Many of the same designers worked on both parks, though Walt’s Marceline memories seem to have been set aside.

Like Hong Kong’s clone of the Anaheim original, the Casey’s Corner at Disneyland Paris (1992) is based on the one at Walt Disney World. But the rest of that park’s Main Street is lavishly unique.

It’s easily the most elaborately themed and detailed of all the Disney Parks. With so much world-class art and architecture spread across Europe, the designers felt they had to go to greater lengths to create immersive environments. Initially the plan was for a streetscape themed to the 1920s, but this was discarded in favor of the more broadly Victorian look of the Magic Kingdom. The French associate the romance of America with the bustle of business, so this Main Street USA features large billboards and other advertising graphics which are unique to this park.

It’s about as visually far removed from Marceline, Missouri as you can possibly get.

So yes, the original Main Street USA at Disneyland is based somewhat on Walt Disney’s childhood memories of the four years he lived in Marceline. Perhaps “inspired” is the better word—again the Zurcher Building is the only structure which Walt or any of his designers claimed to have given a direct nod to. And with the exception of Hong Kong’s near copy, each further iteration of the Main Street USA model gets further and further away from the source. What’s funny is that source isn’t even Marceline. While Marvin Davis oversaw the master plan for Main Street USA with Walt Disney’s personal input, the majority of the actual design work fell to studio artist Harper Goff and his own childhood memories of growing up in Ft. Collins, Colorado.

I’ll get around to detailing this Colorado connection in a future post. But before I leave town, there’s one more stop to make.

A Dream, a Tree, and a Barn

When I pulled off at the Top of Iowa Welcome Center, I picked up a tri-fold brochure on Marceline (“Where Walt Found the Magic”) which lists the number one Disney attraction in town as The Dreaming Tree and Walt’s Barn (the Walt Disney Hometown Museum was #4).

So after taking all my photos in and around downtown, I drove out to the edge of Marceline to see what all the hype was about. There was a clearing and a wide path of grass leading off the road to what looked like a farm property. Halfway down this path was a large—though rather young looking—tree. The sign posted in front of the tree (corrected for grammar, punctuation and capitalization) reads as follows:

The Son of Dreaming Tree
This Dreaming Tree Sapling was planted September 2004 by Bradford Disney Lund and Walt Disney World Ambassadors Sara Spike, Juan Aviles, and Christopher Stewart who brought Soil from the Magic Kingdom and water from the Rivers of America to be added to the soil on the Disney Farm for the planting ceremony.

The original 125 year-old Dreaming Tree fell during a windstorm in 2015; the newer sapling standing here now came from a seed harvested from the original cottonwood which once stood some 30 feet away.

The mystique is that (again, likely apocryphal territory here) young Walt used to sit under it and daydream. The Walt Disney Hometown Museum calls the site “a magical location where Walt first learned to draw, write and dream.” In a sense, this kind of reverential treatment is no different than medieval pilgrims who travelled to see a splinter of the “True Cross.” Now the only thing left is a splinter “related” to the original splinter.

Continuing forward down the path, there is a bare, dark wood picket fence to the left. And several more signs along the way which tell the story of the Disney family’s time in the area:

Coming to Marceline
Elias purchased 45 acres in Marceline from his brother Robert at a price of $125 an acre, promising installment payments with money he was to receive for houses in Chicago that Flora had designed and he had built. In the spring of 1906, the Disney family packed up their belongings and moved to Missouri.

And then another a bit further on:

Walt Disney was the age of four when his family moved from Chicago to a forty-acre farm in Marceline. Walt quickly learned to love farm life, and the old barn became his and his younger sister Ruth’s favorite place to play.

The barn provided Walt with his first show business experience when he produced a “barn circus” and charged the neighborhood kids a dime admission. When his audience discovered the circus consisted of a goat, a pig, and the family dog and cat dressed in Ruth’s doll clothes. they protested. Hearing the commotion, Walt’s mother Flora promptly ordered Walt to refund the admission with this admonishment: “If you deliver more than your audience expects—they will never be disappointed.” It’s a lesson Walt took to heart.

The path through the woods then gives way to a small clearing, with a final sign just a ways apart from a barn appearing to be from the turn of the century, but in remarkable condition for how old it looks:

The Happy Place
In 1950 Walt recreated the barn from Marceline at his home in California and used it as his personal workshop. It became his “Happy Place” and became the birthplace of “Disney Imagineering.”

There aren’t any other signs outside. So, this is the barn from California then?

As it turns out, nope. Inside there are some additional signs, and a small binder that tells the story of “Walt’s Barn” in the format of a children’s storybook. The story concludes:

Back on Walt’s boyhood farm, the old barn had been removed. Friends and neighbors got together and built a new barn to celebrate Walt’s 100th birthday. After a long tie, the barn arrived home again.

And in smaller print and more detail, presumably for the grown-ups:

The saga of Walt’s bars completed a full circle on September 22, 2001. As a part of the celebration of his 100th birthday, the townsfolk of Marceline, which has a population of 2,500, built a replica of the original barn on the farm once owned by the Disney family. Long ago, the first barn disappeared, perhaps because it was used as firewood during the Great Depression. As a fitting tribute, the humble little red barn finally came home from its long journey through the life and times of a small town farm boy who became a genuine American original: Walter Elias Disney.

Visitors are encouraged to leave notes, signatures, and otherwise write on the inside of the barn. Thankfully, I didn’t find anything disrespectful in a public restroom wall kind of way.

Along with the interpretive signage and book, there are a few props to complete the “old farm look” such as a wooden barrel, wagon, and some tools. The floor is bare gravel.

Travels in Hyperreality

Now, there’s a couple things going on here. And just like Main Street USA’s relationship to Walt’s boyhood years spent in Marceline, it gets a bit muddy. What we have is what French philosopher Jean Baudrillard in his seminal Simulacra and Simulation described as a “breakdown in the referential chain.”

The chain goes something like this: There was once a barn in Missouri. Walt Disney remembered that barn from his childhood, and then he built a barn in his backyard in California for his Carolwood Pacific Railroad. He used the structure as a workshop, and referred to it as his “happy place.” That barn—to him, to Walt—was the barn from his youth. But it was only based on his memories, some forty years on. He didn’t have any photos. No blueprints or drawings. He just remembered it, and he built it.

Walt’s Carolwood Barn at Griffith Park. aloha75/Flickr. — Walt’s Carolwood Barn at Griffith Park. *aloha75/Flickr.*

In a sense, it’s completely imaginary. Years after Walt Disney passed away, his daughter Diane Disney Miller recognized the importance of this backyard barn and saved it before escrow on the property closed and it was transferred to new owners. That barn has been open to the public since 1999 in Griffith Park, in the Los Feliz neighborhood of Los Angeles, and is maintained by the Carolwood Foundation.

As the signage here in Marceline indicates, in 2001 folks in town “built a replica of the original barn on the farm once owned by the Disney family.” But they didn’t. Because the structure they used for reference was the one Walt built in his backyard. Which has no actual connection to whatever barn once existed on this farmland, except in Walt’s mind. Granted, it’s not red like the Carolwood barn. It’s been built and finished to look “old timey.” To look “authentic.” To look like it belonged on this farm property, circa 1906–1911.

Which brings us to Baudrillard’s concern. He called things like Walt’s Barn “simulacra,” by which he meant a copy for which no original exists. Exactly like Main Street USA (and much of thematic design). Along with others such as Umberto Eco, Baudrillard argued that this “original-less copy” is a truth in its own right. He called it the hyperreal.

More on this later. Next stop: Worlds of Fun!