| I had one of the most emotional moments of my life at Disney.
The Tomorrowland Terrace was the place and the double knit orange pants
and white shirt with the ring on the chest zipper was the costume. It
was a week night and the Terrace was busy in the late Spring. The
funky Tomorrowland music was playing in background and the crowd as
usual, was behaved awfully. Luckily the crowds were starting to
diminish as it approached closing time.
Connie was the lead and I was stuck working the front of the Terrace
near the stage. About half an hour earlier, the band had played their
last set. I was sweeping the upper part of the front room when a lady
in her late 20s early 30s asked me for some help. I put my broom aside
and listened to her. Sitting at the table with her was a little boy no
more than 3 years old. He was cute with dark eyes and dark hair, very
angelic in stature.
She said that she was upset since the Terrace didn't sell hot dogs or
hamburgers. Her husband had gone over to the Plaza Pavilion to buy
some of the normal American fair. Both she and her child were
drinking soda that they purchased at the Terrace. She then asked about
how they could get back to Fort Wilderness. I gave instructions that
would get them down Main Street, out the main gate to the TTC. I then
said that I would call information to get the correct bus information
to get the family from the TTC to Fort Wilderness.
As I left the mother and son, the mother was wiping up a bit soda that
the little boy had spilled on the table. The kitchen area was busy
with the food people going about their business cooking food and
starting to do final cleanup for the day. In the kitchen office I had
to wait to use the phone since one of the managers was talking to the
food distribution office ordering more supplies for the next day's
operation. I called the general information help line and found out
that the blue flagged bus was one that they wanted.
Upon returning to the table, the mother was holding her son in her lap.
He was crying and she was holding a small paper cup under his nose.
You could see the blood slowly dripping into the cup. She said that
he was playing on the chair, fell, and hit his nose on the way down.
She then asked for a cloth to help stop the bleeding. I went over to
the custodial closet to get some clean rags.
The boy was really crying hard when I got back with the rags. The
mother took the rags and put down the cup. When I looked into the cup,
there was about a 1/4 inch of blood in the bottom. The child started
to cry louder and the mother started to say in an impatient manner,
"Where is my husband?!" I tried to calm her down. She then started
to talk in a nervous manner, a kind of rambling on fashion. She said
that they had come down on the "Last Wish" program because her son had
cancer. It was the chemo-therapy that was causing the nose bleed since
the blood couldn't coagulate she continued. She then once again asked
what was keeping her husband.
By this time the first rag was pretty soiled, and she asked for some
ice. Before going to the counter, I stopped back in the custodial
closet to get another clean rag. After getting the ice I put it in
the rag and went back to the mother. The husband had now appeared and
the food he brought was laying on the floor as he sat with his soon
trying to comfort him. The rag with the ice passed from me to the
mother to the father who placed the cold against the son's nose. He
let out a loud wail when the ice was applied.
By now Connie heard the crying and was approaching the scene. At the
same time the parents had asked me where the First Aid station was. I
said that I would bring them over. We started to leave and I yelled
over to Connie that I was bring the family to First Aid. She said OK
and that she would clean up the mess left behind.
I swear the next five minutes went by in slow motion. The mother had
gathered up the packages belonging to the family. In the arms of the
father was the 3 year old son still crying wildly as the father tried
to calm him and slow the bleeding. We're passing passing people and
they're looking at us. The father had the child in his arms speaking
words of comfort, telling him that everything would be alright. The
child's head was resting against the father's right arm while looking
up at his dad. The legs were swaying back and forth bent over the
father's left arm. The swaying was caused by the awkward walk of the
father as he impatiently wanted to get to the First Aid office.
Following behind is the mother who even though carrying a large number
of packages she's ready to break into a run.
Inside I'm feeling queasy. The scene was like that you see in many
movies with a sad ending. I'm nervous because I'm dressed in
Tomorrowland clothing and now heading into Main Street territory. I
tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible as we passed Coke Corner.
Here I am with a family with a terminally ill child and I'm worried
about getting reprimanded for going into the wrong area with the wrong
costume.
I breathed a sigh of relief when we finally got into the First Aid
office. The nurse on duty came out immediately when she saw the child
being carried in and crying. I explained what I knew to the nurse and
she then went over to the child. Before leaving, I left my name,
department, and phone number on a piece of paper for the nurse. The
mother thanked me before I left the first aid office to go back to
work.
On the way back to the Terrace, I fought as hard as I could to keep the
tears inside. As soon as I get back into the Terrace, I ducked inside
the custodial closet and started to cry. Fortunately for me my break
was in five minutes so I left early for it. One of the other
custodians passed me as I headed towards the break room and saw that I
had been crying. He asked me if anything was wrong. I said no and
continued down the stairs to the break room.
It took me about 10 minutes, before I finally pulled myself together.
I was back on the work floor for only a few minutes when Connie found
me. She started to give me instructions for closing when I broke down
again. She then got brutal with me, telling me to pull myself together
and get the trash barrels emptied. I tried to explain but she didn't
want to hear it. The rest of the night I was pissed off thinking what
a bitch Connie was for not listening to my reasons.
The shift finally ended and the four Terrace closers, myself, Connie,
and two other custodial workers, started to walk back to the Custodial
office to punch out and double check the schedules for the next day.
Connie asked the other two to go ahead while asking me to lag behind.
We then talked about what happened. She said that she was sympathetic
to what happened but that it was common place for the terminally ill to
come through the parks. If I broke down every time that I met one of
these people, she continued, then I would be spending most of my time
in emotional turmoil and that would do no good for myself or the
company.
Even after this discussion, I was still angry with Connie. But now,
after four years, I can look back and say "Yeah, Connie had some merit
to her argument." I never knew what happened to that family, the
nurse never contacted me for further information. On occasion, my
thoughts wander and question what happened to the family. I hope that
family, even though they had to deal with this unenviable situation,
didn't get so wound up that they became unable to help themselves or
their son.
During Traditions I, the Disney management points out the necessity for
being kind to everyone since you never know who may be in the park.
They tell the story of Dad and the bad trip experience that includes
lost luggage, Jr. spilling mustard on Dad, the late arrival of their
flight and the 90+ degree weather with 90+ percent humidity. But
that's another complete story by itself. They also point out that
coming to Disney is the last wish for many terminally ill people. It's
the magic and the mystique that pulls people there and it's Walt's
philosophies that make those dreams come true.
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| re:197.2
Real nice story Joel, choked me up a bit while reading it.
I guess the part that would have broken me up the most is that it was
only a child, someone so small that has not even had a chance to live.
I am sure I would have been quite angry also, at Connie, It sounds
almost as if she had turned a bit to callus. I don't think there is
anything wrong with showing your emotions once in a while, you can't
always hide your true feelings.
Well anyway, thanks for sharing that story. I am leaving for Disney
Land Friday morning for a week of fun in the sun with my family, will
let you know how it went and if I won one of them cars there givin'
away!!!!!
Mike
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