Reliving Fond Memories
Page 2 of 3

Safely scaring the hell outta you!
Though it may not seem like it, Knights had a set of guidelines to follow. The main one was a three-foot buffer between the doom buggy and us. This was a safety zone to keep us away from the more rambunctious guests (I’ve seen them get so scared they lash out), and the drive mechanism (more below).

Each Knight was equipped with a garage door opener-like device, which would clip onto the belt. This was to stop the doombuggies in case of emergency. "Emergencies" usually involved guests who didn’t care for themselves or the attraction. I could hear someone throwing pennies or jaw breakers at the figures, and I would stop the ride.

Sometimes guests would climb out of the vehicles and go on their own tours. I would freeze against the wall and wait for them. They would be too preoccupied with impressing their friends to notice me. As they passed me, I would step out and take them by the arm. Even now, all these years later, I wish I had photos of the looks on the kid’s faces when I surprised them like that!

Unfortunately, breaking the rules can lead to consequences. These kids were sometimes thrown out of the park. They are endangering themselves and others. The doom buggies, AKA Omnimover system, were a powerful train of carriages. There are metal plates hiding/protecting the track beneath the floor. Someone could easily lose a limb trying to get out of the buggies, and slipping. One cast member told me a story of when the Adventures Thru Inner Space attraction was being rehabbed. A metal beam fell across the tracks while it was operating, and the omnimovers pushed the beam through one of the metal doors used by the service crews! Imagine what it would do with something as frail as flesh and bone! Whether it was truth or folk tale didn't matter; the point had been forcefully made.

Whenever I stopped the ride, the maid or butler in attendance would climb the stairs, come down the hall and ask what the matter was. Sometimes the guests were taken away right there, or put back into the buggy, its number noted, and security would wait for them as they disembarked.

The response, mostly, was positive, but there were complaints. Most of these were from people who don’t like surprises, who want their Disneyland experience to be the same in 1986 as it was in 1969. But management would listen to these complaints, no matter how silly. It’s their job to.

Being the Knight was a unique experience for a Disneyland cast member. Instead of being charming, helpful and cute, I was there to frighten guests. Not make them faint, mind you, but give them a good jolt. I wore black and slinked in the shadows. This was not your father’s cast member.

It became a matter of pride to see how many people I could scare during the thirty minutes on stage (Generally I was on a half-hour, and went on break for the remaining thirty minutes). The other Knights would compare notes; tell stories of various guests and what they did to "get" them. Some Knights would leap out; some would be humorous by acting frightened themselves. Sometimes just a loud noise would make the guests jump, hitting their heads on the top of the doombuggy. Other times more was required. Once the victims were sighted, I would turn my head sharply, and slowly move from the wall. I'd drag my axe into position, as I got closer to them. They would begin screaming, scrunching together on the far end of the buggy seat as I reach out my metal gauntlet to them, and lifting my weapon. The buggy would then turn away to the clock as I took aim. They were safe. I tried to be more than just a bogeyman jumping out at people. Sometimes the guests, after collecting themselves from their scare, would applaud. I graciously bowed as they headed out to the Seance room. My scaring had reeeeeel class!

As I continued performing as the Knight, I developed a sixth sense concerning children. I was always careful not to scare the youngsters who looked like they were a heartbeat away from messing themselves. I could predict fairly well when a buggy containing saucer-eyed moppets appeared. It was unnecessary to spook them, and besides, it was not much of a challenge! I would simply freeze and wait for them to pass into the arms of Madame Leota.

For most of my tenure I was Knight A. There were four cast members playing the Knight throughout the day, broken into two shifts, the day Knight (A&B) and evening Knight (C&D). Daytime was the usual train of guests: Families, young gum-popping teens, and tour groups. The evening shift was something a bit different.

The Knight-time Guide to Disneyland!
As the sun set, the teenagers took over and the sleepy HM became a party, complete with drugs, making out, whatever. (This was the age of Videopolis, remember!) I would collect empty beer bottles left lying in the hall (I still wonder how they got those in there?) and other…ahem…"party favors", taking them back to the break area. There were times when a doom buggy rotated towards me, and I wonder who was more surprised, myself or the couple I had "interrupted"! Soon it became routine shocking guests in various stages of undress.

The nighttime guests were also surlier. Stories of Knights being punched, or having objects thrown directly at them came back through the main office. Fat lips, black eyes and smoldering tempers were common.

This was why I chose the "A" slot. It was much more "civilized" being Number One Knight, putting down the morning paper and coffee and taking up the axe. Despite the shrieking and yelling, it was much more peaceful and satisfying than the evening shifts. And no fat lips.