Reliving Fond Memories
Page 2 of 2

Mark Twain could be wry in his observations. Within his southern drawl could be detected the scent of sarcasm. But Walt Disney was an unabashed sentimentalist. He was proud of being corny. To him, childhood is a time of high emotions. The world is a bright shiny toy to be explored and adored. Twain spoke as an adult gently bemused by our common experience as children. Walt Disney believed we never stop being kids.

Twain and Disney believed in the virtues of a simple, hand carved life, unencumbered by 20th Century neuroses. They extolled an idealized past of endearing eccentric character, of camaraderie and community. The moppet’s enthusiasm for experience, an unabashed reveling of the moment, free from all constraints. They sought that endless summer within all of us. For Twain, it was exuberant children in their handmade rafts crossing the river to Jackson Island to become pirates. For Walt Disney, that heartfelt stability of home was the glue of his films, then made three dimensional in Disneyland. During the atomic Cold War, these folksy sentiments hit home to a public weary of raconteurs, Sputniks and ICBMs.

They loved technology and the future, but reckoned true success in life was built upon appreciating the world of a child close to our heart. Disney believed fervently in a child’s bottomless capacity for joy. Twain's Huck Finn had no need of a cell phone. He just wanted to fish and watch the clouds pass overhead, enjoying the act of being alive with no pressing engagements. Walt Disney built a fishing pier in the original plan of his island as homage to that unaffected spirit.

They seemed to say that it is the native state of children to be carefree and happy, and that we should carry this simplicity through the banal rigors of adulthood. As we enjoy their work, we laugh because we recognize the common experience of all children. Their genius is that we see ourselves in their stories.

These two gifted men occupy a special place in my inner life. Both have given of themselves, and I live in a better place for it. They told the truth as they see it. The reason I believe their memories and works endure is because we trust them. These craftsmen were wholly themselves, and we know their instincts are honest.

Over the last few months, I’ve had the privilege of watching two wonderful biographies on these men. The first was in October on Walt Disney. The second on Mark Twain concluded the other night. The more I see of these two remarkable men the more I am inspired by them. Their contributions in their respective fields will be discussed and admired for generations.

Since Disneyland opened, one of the most recognizable features has been the Rivers of America, and the Mark Twain steamboat. With Twain’s symbol of mythic childhood, it is no wonder Walt Disney would also include Old Man River in his park. It is a natural fit, and judging from how today’s children play on the castle rocks, climb up to the tree house, explore Fort Wilderness Outpost and laughingly roll across the pontoon bridge, the guests also agree.

Twain sits in a prize place on my shelf; ready to share a new story each time I open his books. Forty minutes away is Disney’s contribution to the eternal child in all of us. I still love to linger along the waterfront, and remember when I first laid eyes on it and was transported. I can see myself as a child again leaning eagerly on the railing. Though the images of Johnny Whitaker and Jeff East have faded with time, the spark that movie ignited in my mind has not faded. I will ride that steamboat again, and listen to the voice of Mr. Twain as if he were onboard, up in the wheelhouse, piloting us on that river of youthful dreams, the days “drowsing�? along like the waterwheel on Harper’s Mill.

Discuss It

• Discuss this article on the LaughingPlace.com Discussion Boards

-- Buster Gracey AKA David Mink

-- Posted March 20, 2002