Between Disneyworld and reality

Dec. 30, 2004

Dear Julie,

DC and I joined her family in Orlando just before Christmas. Our niece, Devon, is an intern at Disneyworld. That translates into discounts, although we were very happy about seeing Devon, too. At least I was until she distributed Mickey Mouse ears for everyone with our names stitched on the back. Of course, at Disneyworld it's safe to look goofy. They have droopy eared hats, too.

Disneyworld is made for families, of course. All kinds speaking many languages were there.

Disneyworld is all about magic, too. Little girls wore princess dresses. A Canadian rock 'n' roll band in kilts was led by a bagpiper who played a bluesy version of "We Three Kings" the way the Allman Brothers would have.

More magic.

A finely orchestrated fireworks display with the kind of firepower usually only seen in Baghdad brought a huge crowd to Epcot Center at 9:30 every evening.

Everything was magical until the sound system malfunctioned during the parade of characters at Disney-MGM Studios. How distressing to learn that Goofy, Snow White and Mary Poppins were only lip-synching.

Staying on the property at Disneyworld recreates the America of the 1950s, when children and adults walked and played in their neighborhood day and night without worry. The swimming pools are open 24 hours. Everyone is safe from harm and, except for a few 2-year-olds melting down, happy to be there.

The magic never ends, as long as you stay there.

We returned home to the shattering news that thousands of people were killed by an earthquake and tsunamis in Asia. Some were Westerners like us, off on a sunny vacation. Most were poor people whose lives suddenly no longer existed.

It's difficult to grasp the meaning of 77,000 deaths or whatever the heartbreaking toll is this morning. Every life was sacred, every person loved by someone. By God for sure.

The families of these victims now face the revulsion of mass graves and perhaps lifelong questions about those who are missing. Hundreds of thousands or maybe millions are now homeless. Those left behind know the fortune of having others to cling to.

Still at Disneyworld on Christmas Eve, we went to Disney-MGM Studios late to look at the Christmas lights displayed on their backlot. We were the only ones on the bus. Someone started singing Christmas carols. We warbled "The 12 Days of Christmas," "We Wish You a Merry Christmas," "Frosty the Snowman." In the darkness, the driver said, "You have a great family." He said it a couple of times. Then he requested "Silent Night" and turned on his microphone so the other drivers could hear.

We asked after his family. He said he was sorry to be working on Christmas Eve but would get to see them later.

It was later that night when our niece, Darci, said she saw a tear on the bus driver's cheek.

Sometimes joy and sorrow are hard to separate. I hoped he really did get to see his family that night, that someone would be home waiting.

Love, Sam

Sam Blackwell is the managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.