By Salvatore A. Barcia Jr.

Posted August 24, 2022

“Let’s go to ________________!”

Such words bring waves of excitement when the blank is filled with an amusement park.  Rules have changed, prices have skyrocketed, and technology has evolved, but they are part of our collective experience in the modern world.

An amusement park provided my first ever memory, one of sheer terror . . . the good kind.

Yore and Yesteryear

In New York, Coney Island was a go-to place for previous generations.  Family trips; date nights; the mystique of the Cyclone; the stature of the parachute jump; the delight of Nathan’s.  During my preteens my dad introduced the ultimate roller coaster.  The creaking wooden frame still gives me pause every time, but never a full stop.

My generation enjoyed Great Adventure in Jackson, NJ.  Its ever-changing repertoire of rides and roller coasters including Rolling Thunder, Lightning Loops, and El Toro has always impressed.  In the 1970s rules for padding profits were easier to evade.  Executing our elaborate plan for avoiding the high cost of park food, we entered first and then my mom passed a bag of provisions through the fence.

During my teens a day at Great Adventure, sans parents, allowed an embrace of youthful exuberance.  But there was another park, a short-lived park.  A legend.

I Survived

Any Gen-Xer growing up in the Tri-State area recalls the apex of water parks, Action Park.  Nostalgia has grown as society becomes increasingly enveloped in protective bubble wrap.  The stories are true.  It was an amusement park version of the Wild West.  We piled onto crude water slides, scraping our backs on the rocky edges.  Unstaffed cliff diving came with the hope of clearing before the next diver.  One friend expertly mooned the crowd while on the Tarzan swing (not all staff were amused, but “If you do that again, I will say ‘stop’ in a louder voice” failed to deter).  While some had the backbone to ride the ill-fated looping water slide, I decided against it when the excursion transformed a crash test dummy into wreckage.  We stood on rafts, feared going aerial on the Alpine Slide, and wrestled on tube rides.  Going home cut and bruised was standard.

We loved it.  No video evidence available (perhaps for the best).

A Whole New World

When I was three years old, my family trekked to a brand new theme park in Florida, Disney World.  While I am sure we enjoyed much about this new realm of amusement, my mother often reminisces about a single moment:  I was happily feasting on ice cream, wearing my Mickey Mouse ears.  Ice cream, a coveted prize at any age.  It was mine and I was going to enjoy it.  She then did the unthinkable to a three-year-old and had the audacity to lick my cone.  In response to this atrocity I cried out loudly, flailing my arms and legs, infuriated she had violated my precious snack.  Despite my denials (I do not specifically remember this event), my father caught video evidence with state-of-the-art 1970s recording technology.

I rediscovered Disney as an adult attending a friend’s wedding.  Wandering the park, we found our inner children.  In recent years as a parent I have had the pleasure of enjoying Disney, Universal and other parks with family and friends (including Knoebels, a haven for old wooden roller coasters).  One particular evening at Disney my son Luciano and I (along with my friend Greg) wanted to catch the racecars with no line.  Luci was excited and scrambled to the entrance – Greg and I quickly followed.  When a cast member reprimanded me for running, my submitted defense was to keep up with Luci . . . but really I was excited too (the inner child can be powerful).

Among my favorites at Disney is the classic Haunted Mansion.  As technology advances I hope they never change it.  The first time I rode it, however, I wished it didn’t exist.

House of Dread

Back in ’72, as we enjoyed our inaugural Disney trip, the visit included a requisite visit to its now legendary terror house.  The amalgamation of horror images is brilliant.  To an older child it’s scary but fun; to a teen it’s a blast; to an adult it’s nostalgic.  For a three-year-old it’s a place to be feared.  Still, I innocently rode with my dad, confident he would protect me.

As any father would, he draped his arm over my shoulder.  I clutched it tightly like Linus’ blanket.  This would be my undoing, for during the ride he seized the opportunity to pretend something malicious was grabbing me (and embellishing with ghoulish howls).  This invited searing screams from my lungs.  My recollection paints an hours-long ordeal with real beasts summoned to torment me.  Every nightmare was coming true.  The creatures of the night had arrived!  This was it!  We were doomed!

In reality I am sure he did it once or twice and ceased when I cried out, producing a hearty laugh followed by a comforting hug.  Frozen in my memory – the earliest of my life – I cherish this silly moment with my dad.  No video evidence necessary.

As adults we are often preoccupied with work and obligations, and everything seems to cost too much.  A wise person once said few people lay on their death beds wishing they had worked more.  I gather most wish for more time enjoying our tenure on this earth with family and friends.  Lest we forget the preciousness of time.  So when you can, drop everything and enjoy an amusement park (or anyplace else that tickles your fancy) and create some wonderful memories – with or without video evidence.