The very happiest of my childhood
memories revolve around the happy nights my family spent
at the amusement park from the time we moved to Newport News from Richmond when
I was six years old.
The roller coaster - or dips, as
we called it - was my favorite ride!
Daddy and I always tried to ride in the very last
seat, and Mama and Eleanor
('59) would sit in front of us.
Often we would ride several times without ever getting off.
As a child I always said that I
wanted to be married on a Saturday in June at the nearby Buckroe Baptist Church
so that during the ceremony I could turn around and watch the cars on the dips
go by.
Okay...
My second favorite ride was the
Tilt-a-Whirl.
I always thought it was so sad that it made my Aunt Virginia extremely
nauseated, so that she had to avoid it.
It seemed to me that this must surely rank as one of the deepest tragedies of
her life.
Eleanor's favorite ride was the
Bumper Cars because she got to drive herself.
Sometimes I'd ride with her.
That was really exciting!
Nothing like a twelve-year old driver!
The real attraction for
my daddy,
though, was the magnificent carousel, or Merry-Go-Round, as we called it.
Had he had one of his own in the middle of his living room, he would have been a very happy man.
Again, we
would ride repeatedly, delighting in the music of the calliope.
The summer I would turn twelve, I thought I might be
getting a bit old to
ride the horsies,
I grumbled something under my breath to that effect to
my mother.
She
straightened me out in no short order.
She told me that my father's dignity would never allow him
to ride it without
a child accompanying him,
and he REALLY wanted to ride it, so I WOULD ride it,
and I WOULD be happy about it,
and I WOULD not mention any such nonsense again!
OH! Oh, yeah...
So that's the way it was, and before the next summer came, my daddy had passed
away.
I wish I could ride the horsies
with him again, just one more time.
- Carol Buckley Harty ('65) of NC -
04/30/03, 06/02/03
It just occurred to me that my
very first date was here at the amusement park 43 years ago today - June 23,
1960.
And I remember with a smile that had my mother considered it a "real" date, she
probably wouldn't have let me go,
as I was still more than two months away from my 13th birthday.
Polly Norris' brother, Bobby ('62), called and asked
me if I could go with him
to the
Sunday School Picnic for Orcutt Avenue Baptist Church.
Mama thought, "Hmmm, Baptist Sunday School Picnic - what could be the harm?"
I thought, "Ooooh, date with older fella - what could be more fun?!?"
I was right.
It further occurred to me that one
of the worst dates of my life took place here as well.
My cousin, Cheryl White,
and
her then boyfriend, Gene, went to
James Blair High in Williamsburg ('64).
They arranged a blind date
for me
with one of their friends (whose name I will
omit). I'm sure he was a perfectly nice boy, but rarely before or since
have I encountered such a quintessential NERD!
He seems to have had great visions of spending the evening in the
Tunnel of
Love. I was horrified.
To my everlasting great relief, the Tunnel of Love was closed for repairs that
night,
Praise the Lord.
He spent the rest of the evening periodically shouting, "I've been rooked!"
I spent the rest of the evening looking upwards and saying, "Thank You!!!"
I still love Cheryl, though!
- Carol Buckley Harty of NC ('65) -
06/23/03
Bill Amend's "Fox Trot" strip
courtesy of
http://www.ucomics.com/foxtrot/2004/05/20/ - 05/20/04
Fortunately for me, this
alternative ride didn't exist at Buckroe!
- Carol Buckley Harty of NC ('65) -
05/21/04
It must have been the summer of
1964, perhaps before we graduated.
John Scull ('64) and I had gone to the park
one night after having "acquired" a
few Colt 45s
and stowed them on ice in the trunk of his car .... or mine ..... Hell,
I can't
remember.
OK, OK, I know .... we weren't anywhere near 21, but the statute of limitations
has long expired
on this one, anyway.
After making a few rounds of the park looking for any girls we knew .... or even
girls we didn't know ....
and a few
rounds in the trunk of the car .... we decided it was time to ride the
roller coaster.
Of course by the summer of '64, we
had ridden it so many times that it had
become quite tame.
Even raising your arms in the air seemed a useless
gesture of bravado ...... I
mean, even the girls were doing that.
No, we needed to enhance the thrill of the ride in some
way. So, we decided to
stand up.
Given that we were a tad lubricated by this time, I really can't recall if we
stood
for the first drop,
but we surely stood for much of the remainder of the ride.
On the far side of the park, where you
could look across it and see the coaster
loading and unloading area,
we spotted Officer Friendly standing there, and
we just knew that he was waiting
for us.
So, we had very little time to concoct our story in hopes of escaping any legal
action.
Having just completed a grueling year of Physics with
J. K. Alvis,
we decided to convince the Officer that we
were not reckless kids,
but serious physics students conducting motion experiments.
So, as the car pulled into the unloading area, he met us and instructed us to
follow him.
What ensued was an
extraordinary dialogue, which would have rivaled Abbot and
Costello's "Who's On First" routine,
as John and I,
in perfect and unrehearsed timing and coordination, began to
explain how we
had carefully calculated accelerations,
velocities, angular momentums (momenta,
for you Latin students),
rotational inertias, frictional factors, windage,
latitude, longitude, tidal
effects, phases of the moon, etc.,
and determined beyond a shadow of scientific doubt that
it was safe for us to
stand during the ride.
What we did not calculate was that Officer Friendly apparently
had not completed 6th grade and had not a clue
what we were saying.
Needless to say, he was not impressed by our presentation,
however, I remain convinced
to this day that our lucidity and the power of our scientific knowledge prevented him from even suspecting that we
were both
s**tfaced the entire time.
He told us to leave the park and not return that night, a hollow punishment as
we simply returned to the trunk
of the car for some much-needed refreshments and recounted the story to
ourselves
and rolled on the ground laughing.
We all dearly miss that roller coaster for a variety of reasons.
Now you know one of mine.
- Dave Spriggs ('64) of VA - 09/15/03
Thanks, Dave!
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