Taking It All In: Walt Disney

A popular Seventies song by Jim Croce starts with, "If I could save time in a bottle..." It takes a very emotionally astute person to catch special moments as they are happening. Usually we hire photographers or make an audio/video recording of the special times in our lives like weddings, birthdays and anniversaries. Many of these moments are only recorded in our memories. The ability to know a great moment when it is happening is a gift. I read of one such event that happened to Walt Disney in the summer of 1955, from the book, "The Vault of Walt."

Walt and his wife, Lilly, were planning to celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary days before Disneyland opened to the public. Even though Walt was exhausted from all of the activity in putting final touches on the park, he still wanted to celebrate with Lilly and give a sneak-peak of his new playground to special friends and business acquaintances. Approximately 300 people were invited including Spencer Tracy, Cary Grant, Gary Cooper and Louis B. Mayer. He planned a boat ride on the shiny-new Mark Twain Riverboat with Dixieland musicians playing New Orleans-style jazz. Mint juleps were flowing freely. After Walt was purported to have washed down two or three, the party moved indoors to the Golden Horseshoe Saloon, a turn-of-the-century, Old West-style theater.

Diane, Walt's daughter who was 21-years old at the time, recalled that as the Can-Can stage show progressed, people were asking where Walt was. He had disappeared. Lilly, missing her other half, scanned the room from her seat on the floor to catch sight of Walt precariously hanging off the balcony, trying to get down to the stage. He was simultaneously pretending to fire an invisible six-shooter at the actor playing Pecos Bill, who had taken the stage. When people realized where Walt had ended up, some pointed and said, "There's Walt!" He somehow made it safely to the stage where he just stood and beamed. This celebration was not only for 30 years of marriage, but was also the culmination of his life's work come to pass. He was taking it all in.

As a child, Walt would fall asleep in class after spending the early mornings of each day, rain or shine, delivering newspapers. He told daughter Diane that on one cold winter morning, he slid down on a frozen front porch while delivering papers where he cried, feeling cold and alone. He never graduated from high school. He had many struggles and failed business starts, and even lost the rights to a series of films through a dubious maneuver by his distributor. He and brother Roy struggled even during Disney's golden era of animation to secure financing for several films. So by the time Disneyland became a reality in 1955, the playground that eluded him as a kid became his to share where children and grown-ups like himself could get lost in wonder for a day. Main Street was his hometown, Adventure Land came from the books he read and the stories he grew up hearing; the park was for everyone and he wanted to share his dream.

That night at the party, many people were concerned that Walt had too much to drink. Diane remembers her dad standing there on the stage looking happy and pleased, not necessarily drunk. Just to be careful, she asked her father if she could drive him home. He surrendered his keys with, "Well, sure honey!" As he climbed into the back seat of his car, he found a map of Disneyland, or something, rolled it into a paper trumpet and blew a happy melody. Before long, Diane looked behind her and saw her father in the back seat, toy trumpet folded in his arms, fast asleep.

Oh, what a gift it is to pay close attention and take in the special times of life. They come in a heartbeat and go just as quick. Walt had the night of his life; he stood there and basked in the warmth of that special moment in time.