Life Lessons From The Great Professor,

Life Lessons From The Great Professor
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In later years, Van called me to discuss another very important matter that was near to his heart. Many years ago, Van and fellow Disneyland Legend Wally Boag founded The Disneyland Alumni Club. While the concept was fantastic, the organization was less than spectacular and its efforts seemed to be almost nil by the mid-‘90s. It was Van’s desire to re-charge the group and get new blood into the Club via new members and board participants. On his authority, Van placed me on The Disneyland Alumni Club’s board of directors. It was an interesting, exciting experience for me and it made it possible for me to meet some truly wonderful people. Unfortunately, my patience is short with Disney's “red tape,” and I became somewhat of a loose cannon in the group when we were having difficulties with Disneyland over seemingly petty things such as having to beg them to let us keep the name “Disneyland” Alumni Club. The mission of the organization was to better enhance Disney’s community relations through Company-sponsored activities, social events, etc. Giving us trouble over the word “Disneyland” in our group’s name seemed completely absurd, and I know that it hurt Van’s feelings deeply. It put a very bad taste in his mouth, and he became more and more hands-off when it came to being associated with Disney. Fortunately, Van’s life-long friend and another Disney Legend, Dick Nunis, stepped in and helped ease the growing tension between the Club and Disney’s lawyers. A short time after that, I was asked to be a key part of the “new” Disneyland Alumni newsletter that the group proposed and Disneyland agreed to pay for. I felt the opportunity was fantastic both personally and professionally for me as an industry journalist. However, the newsletter soon became entangled in red tape as well and I found that my input was all but ignored when it came down to getting the job done. Several people in our group such as fellow writer Joe Burns were completely supportive. For some reason, my work never appeared when the newsletter did go to print. The one time that it did, it was completely butchered by some editor at Disneyland and it was terrible. I refused to put my name on the line like that any further and Van understood my frustration with the process. I rapidly took a seat on the sidelines, not wishing to upset myself by pushing for change anymore.

In 1997, I met my wife-to-be on the Internet by incredible chance. We didn’t carry on an online affair or even exchange more than a few pieces of e-mail. I just happened to say hello to her in a chat room one evening and we ended up talking the night away on the telephone. After a few trips to see her in San Francisco, I decided that I was going to move to the Bay Area and live with her. It was a hefty decision; I had been a Southern California boy all my life. This move was not something that anyone took lightly. Most everyone, including my family, met this decision with great reservation. Of all my friends, Van was one of the first (and only) to become completely excited for me. “Hell yes you should go!” said an enthused Van France one afternoon when I called to explain the situation to him and resign from the board of directors for the Alumni Club. “I think that’s super! What are you waiting for? Throw all of your stuff into a storage unit and go tonight!”

Van thought my new romance was beautiful and summed it up this way: “I think that your writing is fantastic, and I know that you love Disneyland more than anyone I know. I also know how important this love relationship is, and if you go through life without finding the right person, then God da&%@$, why go through life at all?”

Following my heart and Van’s advice, I said goodbye to my friends, family and surroundings on Valentine’s Day, 1998 and moved to San Francisco. That was the last time I spoke with Van. He was very happy for me and wanted only the best for me. In fact, he was invited to our wedding, which is going to be on November 20th. It pains me greatly that he won’t be there physically, but I know that his spirit will be all around us, laughing and whooping it up as usual.

Van France taught me a great deal about working with people and the way the mass public works in general. He was a “people expert,” and was a very rare breed of man. Van was kind, loving and very well-balanced. Healthy as a horse, he walked almost everywhere and rode the bus often as well. He always had a hilarious, non-politically correct story to tell and was honest to a fault.

Like most Disney Legends, Van walked loudly and carried a huge stick. That is what made them who they were and those were the individuals who helped create the world’s most powerful entertainment empire. I learned of his passing just yesterday morning, via e-mail from a close friend. I became rather emotional and left work for the day. I shed my tears and remembered warm and often humorous tales about Van. I was surrounded by my friends and in my own way, I was able to say goodbye to him.

Van Arsdale France was a great man. From his adventures as a boy in San Diego at Belmont Park in San Diego riding the coaster and swimming at the indoor plunge that is still there to his recent work with the Blue and Gold Fleet of San Francisco, re-writing their training manuals; there will never be another like him. God knows, I will miss his raspy, smoker’s voice exclaim, “Rick!” whenever I call. I will miss his letters, always typed on what must have been a dinosaur of a typewriter (the type usually was never in a straight line and was always jumbled on the page) and closed with his very Disney-like signature. His letterhead depicted the down-to-earth man that I knew and loved dearly: Van sitting at a card table on the beach with nothing but his hat and shorts on, typing away as the surf washed up and around his ankles and the chair’s legs.

I regret that I didn’t call him over the past year or so. He looked great each time he made a public appearance, and so I figured that he’d live forever! I looked forward to discussing my wedding with him and hoped that by some miracle, he’d want to be part of that, even though it’s 500 miles from Orange County. Learning that he died stole words from my mouth and filled my heart with sorrow. I sat for hours yesterday (October 14, 1999) in front of my computer trying to write something about him. In a very rare moment, I was at a total loss for words.

Van France’s spirit will live on forever, as long as there are Cast Members in the world. The legacy that he left behind is enormous, and The Walt Disney Company will forever be in debt to his vision and creativity. In life, this Disney Legend has fallen. In truth, Van Arsdale France is now eternal. Teach Heaven a thing or two Van, and I will meet you at the bar in about 50 years or so!

Rest well, Great Professor. We love you.

-- ©1999 Theme Park Adventure Magazine and LaughingPlace.com. All rights reserved.

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