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HAUNTED MANSION ITEMS ADDED TO THE DHI STORE ON JULY 11, 2011 (More To Come!)
A couple years back, I was interviewed for a documentary about an unusual theme park...a park that was designed but never built. Its name, Bible Storyland. The park was designed by Nat Winecoff Enterprises--with Nat, of course, being the very first WED employee personally hired by Walt Disney. Nat Winecoff supervised many aspects of Disneyland's development, from 1952 through its opening. In the late 1950s, Nat Winecoff formed his own company to design Disney-style theme parks for independent investment groups. Nat was also able to hire away Bruce Bushman from Disney, an artist who completed many early concept drawings for Fantasyland. As of today, the documentary has a distributor (Cargo Film). There are a few clips online.
(I should point out that, aside from being interviewed, I was not involved in the production of the film.)
To celebrate Walt Disney’s 110th birthday, we
here at DHI are kicking it back old school. We—meaning Paul—has uncovered an unreleased 1937 radio
interview with Walt Disney. The
interview was conducted by NBC radio veteran, Elza Schallert on March 12,
1937. Ms. Schallert was a career
entertainment correspondent for the LA station. The interview touches on the production of “Snow White” and
also another famous birthday—that of Donald Duck. Throughout, Walt is personable and candid, bubbling with
good humor. It is also an
interesting glimpse at the company as it transitions from shorts to its first
feature-length film. We—meaning
I—cleaned up the audio as best we could.
(The original source had degraded over the decades—really degraded. But earbuds will bring the audio back to life.) And so, here on December 5th
, we offer up a recording that hasn’t been heard by the public for nearly 75
years. Enjoy.
Todd James Pierce & Paul F. Anderson
PS We do ask that if you’d like to repost this audio or
reuse it in any way to please drop us a note first.
A regular feature at the Disney History Institute is "Covering Disney" (well, nothing has been too regular at DHI for several months). The use of the magazine during Walt Disney's heyday for the purpose of promotion and exploitation. You can read my original essay on this here. To see all the essays and magazine covers at DHI, go to:Covering Disney.
I have a bit of a mercenary attitude in writing about this particular publication: I would like to see if someone would be willing to translate the article for me. As many of you know, I am working on a book on Walt Disney's contributions to the War effort (WWII) for the Walt Disney Family Foundation. A small part of this story does include the battle for South America (keep in mind as late as 1942 some South American countries were still in "play" as to whether they would go Axis or Allied!). As such, this magazine, Caminos del Aire from February 1943 was right in the middle of the propaganda war underway south of the border. If anyone is willing to take upon themselves the translation of this article, I would be most appreciative (which would manifest itself in an acknowledgement in the book). To help in this worthy endeavor, I have uploaded the two pages with text in all their glorious 3mb detail (give or take). They should provide plenty of detail to perform a babel fish operation.
As for the magazine itself (which is an airplane publication, the kind found in the pocket of your front seat along with one regulation barf bag and safety instructions), the cover is brilliant. The Pedro segment has always been a personal favorite (and I get a kick out of the well placed aviation advertisements on mom and dad's nose--CMA for Compañia Mexicana de Aviación [a Mexican-American Airline] and PAA for Pan America Airlines; these were, of course, the two main airlines that provided El Groupo with transportation). The article itself features some wonderful candid shots, three of which I have not seen anywhere else (my guess is exclusive to this publication).
To learn more about Walt's travels south of the border, I highly recommend my good friend JB Kaufman's book, conveniently named, South of the Border With Disney: Walt Disney and the Good Neighbor Program, 1941-1948 (which also, conveniently, I have for sale SIGNED in the Institute's book store, just click on the SHOP link at the top of this page and scroll down).
I was pleased with the commentary on the Disney History Institute Facebook page these last two days in regards to Walt and Lillian Disney and their relationship; as such, I wanted to follow up a bit as the topic seemed to be of interest. As mentioned in the previous DHI essay, the Marc Eliot book portrayed a completely unfair, dishonest, and idiotic fabrication (at least in this Disney historian's opinion) of the relationship and marriage between Walt and Lillian. My purpose in posting the last photograph of the loving couple was to showcase the two in various candid moments "caught in time" that show the true relationship they had. With photographers hounding the stars during the golden age of Hollywood just as much as they do today (albeit with an infinite amount more of respect in the "old days" than now), there are numerous little glimpses of the Disney couple.
I decided upon the above picture as a follow up for several reasons: first, it has never been seen (well for maybe 70 years or so); second, I am keeping with the theme of "Walt in Bow Ties"; and finally, and frankly the real reason, there are several different shots from various news agencies of this particular "photo shoot," each with their own distinctive flavor.
The occasion is the 5th Annual Academy Awards where Walt Disney is picking up the Honorary Special Award for the creation of Mickey Mouse as well as an Oscar for Short Subject (Cartoon) for the Silly Symphony "Flowers and Trees." The event was held on November 18 (sound familiar?), 1932 at the Fiesta Room of the Ambassador Hotel. Attired in smashing formal wear, the Disney's were asked to rise from their seated position at the Biltmore banquet table for photographs with the Studio's newly won prize.
Life Magazine Photo.
By this time in his career, Walt was receiving a lot of positive publicity, but he was not used to having his photograph taken on a regular basis, or being followed or hounded by the Paparazzi. With that in mind, some of these early 1930s photographs Walt can seem a bit stilted, perhaps a bit uncomfortable with the added attention (even in this earlier, more rakish and dapper incarnation of Walt, he was still art over adulation). And in looking at the photographs I have pulled, one can see how an author like Marc Eliot can manipulate a few pieces of "evidence" to skew a story to a pre-conceived notion (which you already know how I, and frankly, 99% of the entire Disney history world, feel about). Take the first photograph (at right), which comes from the Life magazine archives (courtesy of Hulton Archives/Getty Images). While Walt has a sort of sophisticated man-about-town look, Lilly, frankly, looks upset.
Photo #2
The second photograph (at left), which is the image that has found its way into the official Disney photo publicity files (and also shows up mostly on the vintage Hollywood and Cinema sites), also has a more posed, stilted look, but again, where Walt and Lillian are not used to this kind of attention, they have a feel of trying to hold still for the camera for a good shot; the fact that both are looking directly into the camera suggests that!
Photo #3
The third photo (at right), which I do not have a news service credit line for, but I have it documented in quite a few early Hollywood pulp, movie, and fan magazines, seems to have caught the couple off guard... perhaps preparing for another shot (or more than likely taken seconds after the Life magazine photo where they had a moment to relax). But obviously, compared to the Life photo above, they are more at ease and seem to be enjoying themselves.
The photograph that heads this essay, is by far my favorite. Obviously caught in a completely candid moment where, once again like the third photo, they were probably between poses. However, I think it truly represents their relationship the best of the four photographs. While Lillian's eyes are partially shut, she is looking to Walt with great affection. Moreover, Walt is pleased and at ease. This original photograph (actual Sepia, not Photoshopped!) is from the International News Photo Service (according to the attached wire) and includes the description "Look What Mickey and Minnie Mouse Did For Their Pal." I find it amazing that this photograph was even released, as to be honest any photo/news service worth their weight in, well, photo chemicals would realize it is not a good photograph (so much for my theory of "kinder, gentler); yet for our purposes it is one more piece of the puzzle to further refute Eliot's insinuation that the Disney's had a volatile and distant (and every other negative adjective he could conjure up) relationship.
Lest anyone point out the fact that I am using the Institute photograph in the same way I suggested Eliot might use a piece of evidence to manipulate a story (go up two paragraphs), and thus accuse me of the same thing; well, in theory, they would be correct. But to present this case, I would use this image as just one in a massive number of images representing my case ... that is, the preponderance of the evidence, which clearly disputes Eliot's apparent fairy tale. I have viewed tens of thousands of photographs of Walt over my career (seriously!) and there are hundreds of candid photos showing Walt and Lillian as the happy couple they really were! More to come, I'm sure!
(One final note that just occurred to me as I was finishing this essay: look who is holding the Oscar in all four photographs! I think if I had it in for my spouse, and if I was as selfish as a lot of authors try to make Walt out as, I would be holding the Oscar ... not my wife! Just a thought! Your thoughts? You can always post them over on our Facebook page: Disney History Institute on Facebook).
I've always hated the perception that Marc Eliot portrayed about Walt Disney. His book, Walt Disney: Hollywood Dark Prince, at best was a spurious National Enquirer approach to a biography, at worst (which is where it belongs) it is good for kindling in one's fireplace this winter. It contained serious factual errors, egregious untruths, and outright fabrications, all done in a mean-spirited attempt to sell books (the author's M.O.). Eliot's portrayal of the relationship between Walt and Lilly is beyond belief; to believe his book would be tantamount to believing the Disney's never had a happy moment in their marriage. That is why I always enjoy finding a photo of Walt and Lilly engaged in a "non-Disney" type of event, and obviously enjoying themselves. Like this one. Taken by Hollywood professional photographer (back in the days when they were "kinder, gentler" Paparazzi) Len Weissman. So I present this photo as yet one more of several thousand historical artifacts to refute Mr. Eliot (and because it is so rare to find Walt in semi-formal attire [love the bow tie!]). Here, Walt and Lillian (obviously very much enjoying each other's company) dance the night away at the Beverly Hills Hotel (where they enjoyed many a fine night of dinner and dancing). Enjoy!
Wonderful photo of Walt taking off in a Helicopter. Taken from a publicity still from "Walt Disney Presents: 'A Progress Report and Nature's Half Acre' " from the "Disneyland" T.V. Show on A.B.C. Photo is dated January 1955. I've often wondered if it was this helicopter ride, and of course Walt's love of technology and innovative transportation, that inspired him to seek out the helicopter transportation from the Los Angeles International Airport to Disneyland (back when Disneyland had their own helipad). I've down a bit of research on this, but never followed through. Perhaps are good DHI friend Don B. has located something on this in the "Lost Treasures of Jack Wrather." Enjoy!
Wonderful and expressive photograph of Walt Disney along with a few of his fellow pals. The Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck are licensed toys from the period, with Goofy being a maquette. Circa 1950s. Enjoy.
Here’s a photo that I’ve been looking for
for—well—years. What is it? This is a 20-foot hill that used to
rest beside the castle (more-or-less where the Matterhorn is now
positioned). It was known as Snow
Mountain or Holiday Hill or Disney Peak.
The hill had a lot of nicknames.
In 1954, when the land development team first started work on
the Disneyland site, they piled up all of the excavated dirt from the castle moat and the castle
foundation into a large hill.
Removing the dirt from the site would be expensive, so Walt had a fence placed around
the hill, with the hill becoming part of the landscape of Disneyland. For a while, the hill was mostly
dirt. But the loose dirt would be
whipped up in windstorms. Then
Bill Evan’s grounds keeping team quickly landscaped the hill with some shrubs
and a little sod, thereby keeping the dirt in place. There’s a great story—for another day—about one of the
gardeners secretly growing a crop of marijuana plants at the top of the hill—a
crop that was then discovered by managers at Disneyland. Likewise, this hill, on
weekend nights, was prime make-out property for teenage guests. Security used to regularly rout out local
kids from beneath the trees.
During the day, guests used to hop the fence and climb to the top of the
hill to view the entire park. From
there you could see the Mark Twain and the Moonliner rocket. For a brief period (probably just a
year or so), the park developed a path to the top of the hill, with a rail and
steps. I’ve seen pictures of the
path before, but always the path was empty, usually with a chain or other
barrier crossing the entrance. In
this photo you can see the path, the steps and a couple guests (in dresses, no
less) atop Holiday Hill. Holiday Hill
was removed mid-1958 to make way for the Matterhorn.
I suspect some of you have seen other photos of Holiday Hill
with guests hiking the trail. If so, send a link my way. I’d love to see them.
I've been working on a couple short videos about the history of the park. But I realize I haven't posted up anything for over a week. This image is from May, 1959--just four or five weeks before the attraction opened to the public. The Matterhorn is not quite finished. The water system is not complete; trees are not yet in their planter boxes. The track is already in place, but I suspect the team of Karl Bacon and Ed Morgan (of Arrow Development) are still working on the experimental brake system they designed for the ride. But on a more interesting note, in the first few months of 1959, while still under construction, the Matterhorn received two paint jobs. In the first scheme, the upper third of the mountain was coated with white paint, capping the mountain uniformly with a layer of snow. Walt was unhappy with the mountain's appearance: it looked artificial, the uniform snowline belted across the structure. Also, he didn't care for the exact shade of white once it was in place. So he directed workmen to remove--or in places to darken--the upper cone of the mountain so that large sections could be repainted. The result is far more realistic: a mountain capped with snow but patched with frost in its mid-regions. The paint pattern in 1959 appears (in my opinion) superior to the present pattern, but as you might've already guessed I'm a preservationist at heart. There's one more thing to take away from this story: the order to repaint the mountain at significant expense is yet another example of how Walt art directed Disneyland toward a standard of showmanship far above those of other amusement parks in the 1950s. This is one reason why Disneyland survived and some other early theme parks--such as POP and Freedomland--faded away.
As always, you can click on the photo to see a larger view with better detail. The photo is from my own collection.
As long
as we're on the subject of boats, I recently was going through a box of
1955 / 1956 Disneyland slides and found a nice never-before-published image of the shortest-lived
attraction at Disneyland--the boats in Tomorrowland. (By the way, as with all DHI images, you can click on the photo to view a substantially larger version of it,
with sharper detail.)
These boats were housed in the Tomorrowland Lagoon, which is
roughly where the submarine lagoon is now situated. Originally called
the Tomorrowland Boats, they opened to the public in July of 1955.
Designed as an attraction where young pilots could motor a boat around
the lagoon--like an aquatic version of Autopia--the attraction soon
proved problematic. The fiberglass boats were poorly designed,
particularly in the engine compartment. The enclosed motors quickly
overheated as young boaters tried for speed, with the boats then towed
back to the dock. To add to the problems, these motors also threw off a
lot of smoke. Overtime Disneyland formed two solutions to these
problems: (1) engineers redesigned the backend of each boat, enclosing
the motor (which limited ambient smoke but increased engine heat) and (2) park
operations added an employee to pilot each boat to insure the boats
didn't overheat. The park also renamed the boats the Phantom Boats.
With this, the boat attraction became a money-loser for the park. On
peak days, the 14 little boats required 14 employees to operate them,
with each boat carrying two or maybe three guests at most. The Phantom
Boats turned their final lap around the little lagoon in August 1956, a
little more than a year after the park first opened.
This photo here is probably from mid-1956--with park guests
driving each boat. When the attraction first opened, the banks of the
lagoon--as well as the island--were bare dirt. So with the natural
grasses in place, I'd say very late spring is a pretty good guess. This
photo clearly shows the original lap for the attraction, with guests
puttering a single well-marked course around the islands. Also featured
here, a couple of boats recently broken-down. They rest on the bank,
with a park employee in a jon boat come over to fix them up.
I find the boats beautifully styled--especially with their bat-ray
tailfins--but a beautiful vehicle design by itself is not enough to keep
an attraction open. The boats in Tomorrowland were the first
attraction to be removed from Disneyland. To put this in perspective,
another troublesome Tomorrowland attraction, the Rocket Rods lasted nearly
three years. The Phantom Boats lasted just one.
So what do we have here? A clown, battery-powered model boats, and two-dozen Mousketeers. An odd event that would happen only once in the history of Disneyland.
In partnering up with outside companies, Disneyland opened its gates to many businesses during its early years—including K&O FleetLine Model Boats. Featured here is the one-and-only model boat regatta pitched just downstream from the Castle. This photo set is from early 1956. At first I thought this event was hosted on a day the park was closed to the public, but after scanning the pics, I learned that my theory was wrong. Now that the photos have been enlarged, you can easily see curious and confused guests peeking around in the background. The boat races could’ve been easily held over in the flight circle—where there was a pond set up for model boat demonstrations—but instead the races were held here, in the picturesque shadow of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle.
Here’s why I like these photos: In an era before all of Disneyland was carved up into firm walkways, guests could actually venture out into the greenery. (Notice the lack of fences!) Disneyland, then, held the community intimacies of a public park. As such, this little stream between the castle and the fort is an ideal place for a model boat race. In all likelihood, the Mouseketeers are on property to perform the Mickey Mouse Club Circus. Notice the clown prominently featured in these photos?
Now for the fun stuff: That clown is Bob-O, who not only appeared at the circus held at Disneyland but was a regular character on the Mickey Mouse Club TV show. In the early days of the Mickey Mouse Club, Bob-O appeared on the regular Circus Day segments which were part of each Thursday’s themed show.
Now you’ll need to roll with me down a strange path. Everyone over the age of 35 likely remembers that the original Mickey Mouse Club (either through the original airings or the subsequent revivals in the 1970s or 1980s) had two adult entertainers: the wide-grinned Jimmy Dodd and the old “Moose”-keteer, Roy Williams. You can even spot Jimmy in the riverside group photo, dressed as the circus ringmaster. But during the first two seasons, there was a third (and mostly forgotten) adult host: Bob Amsberry. Amsberry was the actor who played, among other regular characters, Bob-O the Clown.
During those months while the circus performed at Disneyland, Bob-O would wander through the park and talk to guests. As the character had appeared on TV and was now a minor celebrity, Bob-O would be immediately recognized by younger park guests. I’ve seen photos of Bob-O ambling through Fantasyland and posing out in front of the castle. But Bob-O wasn’t the only clown in the live Circus to get into the meet-and-greet act. Some of the other clowns got into the walk-around routine as well. Themed areas be damned, here’s one of the other clowns from the Circus posing on Main Street: http://tinyurl.com/3vt7ynl . That’s down right horrifying, no?
But to get back to the photos posted here, Bob-O and the kids sputtered their boats through the water, with Disney cameras capturing the whole thing on film. (Bob-O “accidentally” put his batteries in backwards so the boat ran in reverse.) The footage was then edited into a short segment for the Mickey Mouse Club that was then aired in the spring of 1956. I’ve never actually seen the finished footage. As it was a sponsored segment to promote the 1956 line of K&O boats, it might’ve only been aired once. And well, 1956 is way before my time. But if you happen to have a copy of this footage, shoot me a note. I’d love to see it.
Back when Disneyland was new, the company would regularly allow sponsors and partner-companies to use images from the park to advertise their products.A few of these ads—such as for the Hudson Hornet—would appear in big city newspapers, but most would appear in small-circulation trade journals.This image—which was published in October 1956—first appeared in the Chemical & Engineering News.
Here’s why I like it: in 1954, Walt Disney had purchased a carousel from Sunnyside Beach Park in Toronto, which he would later move to Anaheim, California.The carousel was filled with horses, circus animals (such as lions and giraffes) and ornate stationary benches, but Walt only wanted horses on his elegant carousel at Disneyland.The circus animals he mostly gave away (or sold for next to nothing) to studio employees.But the benches he saved so that they could be fashioned into cages and open cars on the Casey Jr.The Casey Jr. engine, however, was not built at the studio.It was built at a ride manufacturing company in Mountain View, California called Arrow Development.One of the machinists there, Karl Bacon was a genius with tin snips and metal tools and was able to hand-fashion the engine and the tender so that they appeared almost exactly like those in the film, Dumbo.Arrow Development also built the first car, a flatbed that housed the motor.(Click here for an amazing shot of the engine being tested at the Arrow plant: http://davelandweb.com/caseyjr/images/50s/CaseyJr_Construction.jpg )Aside from paint, this left only one final element to finish the exterior design of the Casey Jr.A sculptor needed to create a façade to enclose the flatbed car that held the motor.In this advertisement, you can see the actual mold used to cast the exterior ornamentation for that flatbed car.
This photo appears to be taken in the spring of 1956.The new stone bridgework is finished (and oddly tinted here) for Storybook Land (which opened in June, 1956), but the landscaping is not yet complete.Here, the hills still hold the patchy “natural-yet-mowed” greenery (i.e. weeds) that covered the back part of Fantasyland for all of 1955 and part of 1956; they do not yet hold the gorgeous landscape designs that would appear a few months later when Storybook Land opened to the public.In this you can see how, even during the park’s first year of operation, Walt was radically improving Disneyland.He added landscaping, new structures and props until, eventually, his park existed as a beautifully controlled three-dimensional fantasy, a seamless dream.
Thanks to the good folks at the Goodyear Chemical Division for preserving part of this history in an image. (Click on image for a larger view.)
What is the most compelling story about the construction of the Haunted Mansion?
There are, I think, many from which to choose. There’s the story of how Walt Disney once accompanied WED designers to matinee showings of at least one horror movie to “research” concepts for the Haunted Mansion. There’s the story of how these same designers, while creating the ghostly figures, used to rig them so that they would come to life when the cleaning staff entered their offices at night. But my favorite involves a real ghost—one that WED effects master Yale Gracey claimed he saw as a boy.
I know of only one other place where this story was mentioned. And that was only a brief mention. In 1999, WED designer Rolly Crump told a shortened version of this story in a panel discussion for the Mansion’s 30th anniversary. So last year, when I had an opportunity to talk with the amazing Mr. Crump, I asked for a few more details.
Here’s the set up: while Rolly and Yale were developing the effects for the Mansion, Rolly asked: “Have you ever had anything in your life that you thought was kind of supernatural?”
Without hesitation, Yale replied, “Oh yeah, I had a ghost read to me when I was 10 years old.”
Intrigued, Rolly asked Yale to tell the story.
“He and his mother went back to visit relatives on the East Coast,” Rolly explained. “They lived in this big old house. Yale was there for the summer.” During those months, Yale’s mother let him spend time with his cousins. They played inside and outdoors. Each night the children would sleep together in a large bedroom. In this room there was—at least in Yale’s version—an old lady who lived in the closet, a figure who came out from time to time. “She would come out and read to the kids little stories and then she’d go back in the closet.” But the children all understood that they should never talk about the lady to adults lest she disappear for good.
Early Concept Artwork for the Mansion - Ken Anderson
At the end of the summer, Yale’s mother asked what he liked best about their visit. Without hesitation, Yale responded: “The little lady that lives in the closet that reads to us every night.”
The room grew quiet. Yale’s mother, surprised, exclaimed, “What?”
The other children whined, “No, no, Yale, she’ll never come back.”
“Evidentially the mother was concerned about it,” Rolly continued. “And so she went to the local history society and actually found out who the people were that built the original house. And found a picture of that woman who lived there. And went and showed it to the kids.”
That photo, of course, was her, the woman in the closet. Or at least this was the impression that Yale, age 10, had of the image.
Early Concept Artwork for the Mansion - Ken Anderson
At the conclusion of the story, Rolly swore that this was exactly how he heard it from Yale. Moreover, he emphasized that Yale wasn’t one of those people to exaggerate the truth: “Yale would never make anything up. He was about as straight as they came,” Rolly said. “As far as I’m concerned it’s true. It can’t be any truer than that.”
Now I’ll be the first to admit that this story is quite possibly an invention of childhood, a youthful descent into the world of imagined spirits. What child hasn’t at one time looked into a darkened room and seen a ghost? What half-sleeping youngster hasn’t heard a voice originating from elsewhere in a house and imagined it to be somehow inside their bedroom? Regardless, here’s what I love about this story: as an adult, Yale Gracey would be given the task of recreating more-or-less one of his favorite childhood memories. He would invent stage techniques so that ghosts would appear in real space, so spirits would materialize and then disappear into the ether. It’s interesting to contemplate how deeply Yale’s childhood would later give rise to the spectral effects he would create for the Mansion. But that question, of course, is one to which I don’t know the answer. I can, however, offer this: I’ve always felt that the early Mansion in its best rooms did not hold the frights of a horror movie; rather it presented a half pleasurable haunting as seen by children, a cast of translucent ghosts whose primary duty is to tell stories and to entertain.
* * * *
If you've enjoyed this story, you can learn more about Rolly's work with Disney through this link: Rolly Crump
* * * *
NOTES:
* Quotes for this article--including remembered dialogue--come from an interview with Rolly Crump.
* Ken Anderson artwork comes from the collection of Paul F. Anderson, who worked closely with Ken on collecting his memories and work into a full personal history.
Photograph of Walt Disney and Grandson Christopher Miller taken at Disneyland by Celebrated Hollywood Photograph Gene Lester.
If you have not checked out the Institute's Facebook page recently, members are posting quite a few rare and never-before-seen photographs of Walt Disney. Check it out at: DHI Facebook.
