Timberman
Posts: 845
Registered: 9/21/2004
Rank: Gold Critic
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 5/22/2006 4:21:49 PM
With Holiday World as my main objective for the next day, I drove down to St. Louis and stayed in the Breckenridge Inn off of I-264. For $65, tax included, it was a good deal. My only complaint was that my room had those those creepy double-doors that lead to the adjoining room. Still, it was convenient and decently clean and quiet. Dinner was at the Waffle House, a Southern staple. For $7, you get more starch than goes into Dick Cheney's tent-sized dress shirts.
Once again, I drove into rain clouds heading into Santa Claus, Indiana, which graciously gave way upon my arrival. Much to my surprise, the parking lot was nearly empty when I arrived at what I thought was the opening time of 10:00 a.m. Then, to my chagrin, school bus after school arrived while I was waiting for the ticket booths and gates to open. By the time they did, pretty much every junior high school kid in Southern Indiana and Northern Kentucky was surging into the park. At first, I was appalled that Holiday World's famously friendly and attentive staff would open the park late with this kind of crowd. For 10 minutes, I stood glaring at the ticket booth agent as he nonchalantly went about his opening routine, seemingly oblivious to my presence and the throngs who were already milling around. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore, and said something to the effect of "Hey buddy, rise and shine," to which he mildly replied that he would be open in four minutes. When I finally got my ticket, I noticed the time was 9:30 a.m. Somewhere between Louisville and Santa Claus, I must have passed into a different time zone. Sorry about that, ticket dude.
I enjoyed my time at Holiday World, but I can't say the park was an unqualified success for me, as inconceivably, the Raven was closed all day for maintenance. You can imagine my anguish at this development. However, I could not stay unhappy for long, as Voyage and Legend were well-worth the drive on their own.
Holiday World was everything you hear about: clean, impeccably maintained, and staffed by friendly and attentive people who generally seem to know what they're doing. What impressed me the most was an incident at the Voyage, when a kid who was maybe seven started to get onto the ride with his mother and then collapsed into a wailing spasm of fear and indecision. Over the next five minutes, as the crowd waiting in line stood witness to the spectacle, the kid got on and off the ride no less than three times. He was at the moment that most of us resolved at that age in line, drawing upon whatever resources of strength and courage we had to allow ourselves to do something scary and completely unimaginable for the first time in our young lives. He kept pointing to the lift hill and doubling over in sobs, but he still couldn't bring himself to leave the platform. Remarkably, no one in the waiting crowd of mostly junior high school kids, a demographic not known for their compassion, tolerance, or patience, gave the kid a hard time, even though he was holding up a line that was already about 30 minutes long. While this was going on, the ride ops gathered around for an impromptu crisis counseling session with the boy and his embarassed mother. Throughout the incident, they displayed no impatience or frustration. They genuinely seemed interested in seeing the situation resolved in a healthy and compassionate manner for the kid. Finally, the boy climbed aboard the train to the applause of the waiting riders. He had not been compelled, harassed, or shamed. He had taken this step on his own. True, his momentary resolve was shattered as the train left the station, but when I later saw him disembarking, he seemed like we all seemed the day we became life-long roller coaster fanatics: transformed. I'm actually getting a little choked up recalling the scene. Any act of compassion and pesonal courage these days, no matter small, seems like a minor miracle. What more could you ask from an a
Message updated 5/25/2007 10:24:06 PM by Timberman
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