Dispatch From Disneyland
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Indigo has been my best friend for many years. For as long as I've known him he's talked about the day it snowed at Disneyland. Of course, it never snowed at Disneyland, it's just a mixed-up memory he has from his childhood, but it's been a running joke with us for a long time. This year, thanks to "Believe... In Holiday Magic", it is finally snowing at Disneyland.

Dispatch from Disneyland

The Day it Snowed at Disneyland

"Mama, remember when it snowed at Disneyland?"

"Yes John. I do. That was a magical time wasn't it."

Mama's eyes closed slightly and her head fell back to rest on the top of her rocking chair. I reached over and pulled up her blanket thinking she had nodded off to sleep again. This winter had been especially cold and dark. I feared it was taking its toll on my mother. She was born Disneyland's opening day and is now nearing 91. We both know she is not holding up nearly as well as the Magic Kingdom, where we still visit frequently as if it were our neighborhood park.

Recently, Mama had been asking me a lot about her younger days. About the fun times we had at the park. I always indulged her as I felt it did me good to revisit those days, for they were some of the happiest of my life as well.

Mama stirred to life again refusing sleep's warm embrace. In a voice made soft with the tiredness of age she asked me to tell her again of my first trip to the park. The day it snowed at Disneyland.

I closed my eyes as well and we both took a reflective breath back to my first trip to Disneyland 45 long years ago.

I had recently turned eight and we had just moved to Huntington Beach, CA from Paris, France where, for as long as I could remember, my mom had worked as an English tutor and translator. The only Disneyland I knew was the one outside the city of lights with its marvelous castle, amazingly detailed buildings, and Jules Verne-esque Tomorrowland. Still the prospect of visiting the original Disneyland whose fan websites I surfed nearly every day, and whose pictures and sounds I downloaded off the internet in vast volume, brought me to a peak of excitement I had not ever known.

I think my mom felt it too. She had grown up with the park; remembered all the different versions of Tomorrowland; she remembered meeting Walt Disney and being a special guest on one of his TV shows; she even worked at the park as a teenager and was there the day Walt died. There is no doubt the park held special memories for us both. But I digress.

It was the day after Thanksgiving that we finally had unpacked enough that Mama thought we could reward ourselves with a jolly evening at Disneyland.

Full of excitement we hopped in the car for a quick drive to the Disneyland hotel for some dinner and a chance to map out a plan of attack for the night.

As we approached the Disneyland resort we were treated to a pre-opening glimpse of Disney's California Adventure, the new themepark that had usurped the 100-acre parking lot that Mama then recalled in a wistful little speech. Frankly, I was reminded of a horribly dirty little seaside amusement park we had once visited on the coast of England, but Mama asked me to look closer. When I saw the rollercoaster loop in the shape of a Mickey silhouette, my feelings started to slide to the side of good expectations. When I saw the coaster actually running, I was a convert.

We dined at PCH Grill and all dinner long I watched in awe as the sun set over the nearly finished park and new and interesting rides stirred to life for testing. I knew I wanted to try the giant white rollercoaster, but wasn't so sure about that immense wonder wheel. Those inner cars looked like the occupants might finally discover what it is like to be the contents of a clothes dryer. A couple other attractions drew the fervor of my attention as well.

Yes, I can feel the blood pumping as I think back on the excitement I felt that night. Apparently that's not the case for Mama. Her eyes have closed again and I wonder if she's asleep or awake.

"Why have you stopped?" She asks.

"I thought you might like some tea," I covered for my pause. "No, no. Go on. I was just following along in my mind. I can remember that day as clear as if it was yesterday."

I thought it would be indelicate to mention that she can hardly remember forty-five minutes ago, let alone that many years ago. So I go on...

We finished dinner and Mama somehow managed to pull me away from the window and the thousands of sparkling lights and colors of the California Adventure Themepark. Before I knew it we were at the Monorail station ready for my first trip into the park.

Out of nowhere Mama produced two shiny new Disneyland Passports. She gave one to me and handed the other to the attendant cast member with a nametag that read 'Hub". Hub asked if this was our first time into the park. Pointing at Mama, I said, "She used to work here. But it's my very first time."

Hub reached into a small compartment at the turnstile and came out with two small items. The first was a schedule of the day's events (we had missed everything by that time except the fireworks and Fantasmic!) and the second was a sticker that read 'My First Visit to Disneyland."

I thanked Hub profusely as we went through the gates. Already a collector at that age, I smartly tucked the unworn sticker away in my wallet. Mama just looked at me with knowing eyes. That was my first souvenir from Disneyland. Free too, which I've since discovered most of life's best memories to be.