Dispatch From Disneyland
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Every New Year is a time for reflection. We sort out the good and the bad of the past year. If we're lucky, we'll learn from the past. But now is also a time for looking forward, setting goals, and making plans.

When I think of being alive 65 years from now, I consider what I want my life to be like. I like to think that my partner and I will still be active, enjoying life, and hopefully enjoying the magic of Disneyland together. I like to think that I'll have my friends around me and that we will continue to experience new things together.

I have one specific dream of my partner and I dancing to the sounds of the big bands at Carnation Gardens. I picture us fox trotting across the floor, stopping to chat with other couples who have enjoyed dancing at Disneyland for as long as they can remember, and occasionally having to get out of the way of a young couple who are participating in yet another swing music revival.

I know this vision is obtainable because there are plenty of couples at Disneyland who are already living this dream.

If you've ever been to Disneyland and watched swing dancing, then you've probably seen The Millers. Although age has reduced their mobility they still get out there and dance every Saturday night. They're usually wearing the same outfits (black pants or skirt and a white shirt). If it gets cold Don will put on a plaid sweater.

Don and Blanche have been coming together to Disneyland for at least 30 years. Rod Miller (no relation) often speaks of seeing them on his very first day at the Coke Corner Piano. "The looked just as old then," he says.

The first time the Millers met Rod he was just 21 years old. In those days the Piano was inside Coke Corner (the counter wasn't pushed out as far as it is now). Perhaps it was Rod's unique interpretation of the old standards that attracted Don and Blanche to his piano on that day. Maybe they just wondered where Rudy, the regular piano player, was. But it was the start of a long friendship.

Just a few weeks ago I ran into the Millers sitting at their usual pre-dancing location just inside the candy palace, close to Rod's piano. They were splitting a Mickey Pretzel and sharing a coke. Each of them had on that serene smile that comes with knowing you've outlived your children. As usual Don extended his hand, which I shook. I commented on the weather, and both of them agreed it was too cold for California. Then wishing them a good night of dancing, I stepped off for a trip into Tomorrowland.

That was the usual extent of our conversations. I got so much joy out of watching them dance together every Saturday night, and Friday's too during the summer, it was the least I could to be there with information or just a friendly smile when we passed in the park.

Out on the dance floor young couples mingle with all ages of dancers. The current revival of big band dancing keeps a good crowd going at anytime of night. The Millers, due to their age, would always leave after the first set, unless the night was particularly warm.

This fall it was cold more often than not. So if you wanted to say hi, you had to stop by before the first set. When the music started Don and Blanche would find their way to the floor. In their adapted style of fox trot (more like a fast walk), Don would guide Blanche around the floor occasionally switching positions so they could smile again into each other's eyes.

Between numbers they would inevitably stop near someone they knew, maybe Rose and Dubie (another couple who have danced at the park for forever, it seems), and chat for a little while. Then the next number would start and off they'd go again.

This is no doubt how it was three weeks ago when the Millers took to the Carnation Gardens Dance floor together for the last time. I can see Blanche with her Minnie Mouse pin stopping between numbers to talk to all her friends. She knew she was sick and made an effort to say good-bye to her friends.

When I walked by Carnation Gardens on New Year's Eve I couldn't help but think of them out there on the dance floor. I don't believe in ghosts, but I felt the Miller's presence. I will have a hard time passing by without thinking of them in the future as well. I can hear their footsteps falling on the marble floor right now. A quick succession of steps beating together as one heart.

They did share one heart. For when Blanche died of Pneumonia last Wednesday, Don slipped quickly into altzheimers. I don't expect him to last very long without Blanche. It wouldn't seem right.

The Millers led a simple life and they wanted a simple death. Neither Blanche and Don wanted a funeral ceremony, so there was none. Like anyone else they just wanted a chance to say good-bye and to be together with the ones they loved. If I am lucky enough to be dancing with my sweetheart at the age of 95, then that is all I can ask for too.

Blanche Miller Forever a song in our hearts

-- Indigo (January 5, 2000)