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Ruminations – No Cigarette Sponsors Here, Either

Racing may be the nation’s fasting growing spectator sports. But Roger has a look at one particular event that you won’t find at a track near you…

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Now in a good year, I’d be sending this report from the field from the sagebrush somewhere north of Reno. Yes, the fastest racing event on the planet (okay, about 100 feet above the ground), the Reno National Championship Air Races is once again taking to the skies. Hundreds of thousands of folks will be making the pilgrimage up the 395 to Stead Field. But, as interesting a tale that event will offer to be told, you won’t find it here.

What you will find, instead, is a tale that mixes Hollywood eccentricities, San Francisco socialites and Nevada’s historical Comstock Lode. So roll the dice and check out what comes along!

Patient readers of this space may recall that my first visit to the Silver State came in the summer of 1959. I was likely all of seven months old at the time, having crossed the country in a new Renault station wagon on an odyssey from New York escorted by my parents and a plush tiger named “Remley”, in homage to the drummer, Frankie Remley from the “Phil Harris – Alice Faye” radio show (discs of those shows in MP3 form can be found here — some funny stuff!).

Now Nevada has always been what you would call “rustic” once you left the bigger cities of Las Vegas, Reno or other boomtowns. That was true in 1959, and still remains true today. Part of that lure attracted writer Arthur Miller, along with many other folks. Well, that and easy residency requirements for divorce. Through the Thirties and into the Sixties, it was common for dude ranches to do double duty as divorcee’s-to-be spent their six weeks out of the spotlight to meet the legal requirements. Miller did just that in 1956, but spent his time in a rented shack near Pyramid Lake, some fifty miles northeast of Reno.

That time provided him with the inspiration for the story that ultimately became the screenplay for “The Misfits“(1961). One day during his stay, Miller went (according to the book, “The Story of The Misfits“, by James Goode) out of simple boredom, along with a new friend to visit another shack while one of the previous occupants collected some pots and pans she had left behind during he stay. Miller encountered the new tenant – a woman from the East, also in Nevada for her divorce — and her two friends, ostensibly “cowboys”. His encounter with these folks led to his story and screenplay.

The summer of 1960 saw the production crew and cast for the film come to Reno to shoot the project in the same locations Miller had seen four years earlier. Director John Huston along with his crew and cast of Clark Gable, Marilyn Monroe, Montgomery Clift, Eli Wallach and Thelma Ritter, all spent from mid-July into mid-October on locations all over northern Nevada. John Huston often spent as much time gambling as he did directing, and the problems with Marilyn Monroe were the stuff of legends as she proved just how difficult an actress can be on location. Late arrivals on the set were a daily travail she forced the rest of the team to live through. But the tale being told in today’s little effort here involves one of the diversions John Huston took advantage of to ignore those and other problems for a short while.

One of the films locations was the tiny town of Dayton, along the Carson River, east of the State Capital, Carson City. Back then, it wasn’t much; today it still isn’t much. The “glory days” of this town had gone by in the late 1870’s when it was one of several locations where the ores from the Comstock mines were processed at various mills along the river. But as the ores played out, the mills closed one by one and the town’s residents largely went elsewhere. A railroad line along the river heading south into the heart of the state did little to help, even when the big boom came in Tonopah after the turn of the Twentieth Century.

So, when “The Misfits” came to town, it was a real boost. It may have been only for a few weeks, but it put the town back on the map as a minor tourist destination. The bigger attraction then and still today is Virginia City, up the Six-Mile Canyon on the slopes of Mount Davidson. And it was there that John Houston found himself on Labor Day, September 5, 1960.

Telling it from the perspective of someone who was actually on hand as a witness, James Goode relates the full tale of that day in a chapter entitled “Instead of burning sand, there was junk”. I’m sharing that with you because he tells it better than I ever could by interpreting the various accounts.

September 5 – Over a hundred years ago, the United States Army reasoned that the camel was a natural instrument for carrying supplies and troops around the deserts of the great Southwest, and imported a number of them, stationing them as such removed spots as Dayton, Nevada (where a stone camel barn may still be seen), and the Baldwin Hills in Los Angeles. There was even a camel race in the streets of Virginia City, just above Dayton, in 1866, if you have any faith in the historical-promotional studies of Lucius Beebe’s Territorial Enterprise. The U.S. Army, however, did not take into account that you must love a camel to do anything with it, and it is hard to love a camel, unless it is the only thing within miles – as it is for an Arab.

How the enlisted camel drivers felt about it is recorded in an 1857 song, supposedly unearthed by the erudite Enterprise.

“I’ve rid on mean ‘gators in Floridy’s swamps,
Catamounts, bull calfs, and mule critters too,
But each one is a saint to a camel which ain’t
Good for nothin’ but eatin’ and spittin’ at you.”

The Enterprise yearned to bring camels back to Virginia City and sponsored a camel race to be held today, Labor Day, on a 5/8-mile course in the street in front of the county courthouse, in Virginia City. They were offering the winning rider a chalice of Arabian crystal, surmounted by a Comstock silver lid and a silver miniature camel.

Several months earlier, the San FranciscoChronicle and the Phoenix ( Arizona) Gazette had decided to enter camels in the race, and obtained two camels from San Francisco’s Fleishacker Zoo. The Indio ( California) Junior Chamber of Commerce, which has access to local camels, also announced an entry. Casting about for a rider, the Chronicle asked Billy Pearson, ex-jockey and San Francisco dealer in pre-Columbian art, if he would ride. He would, but only against friend Huston. Huston applied for and got the seat on the Phoenix camel. Neither had ever ridden a camel before, nor did they rehearse.

The events today began with a champagne party in the bar at the Reno airport, followed by a ride to Virginia City in Bill Harrah’s fleet of antique automobiles. Huston’s car, a 1914 American Underslung, expired on the Geiger grade going up to the race, and Herb Caen, the Chronicle columnist, said later that Huston shot it in the radiator and took a bus.

In Virginia City there was a parade, with Shriners in Arabian silk trousers bringing up the rear. Then Huston and Pearson dashed for the liquor storeroom of the Sharon House to change into riding clothes. Herb Caen, Pearson’s handler, stuffed Billy into his old racing silks, a derby, and a red kerchief, and Charles Mapes, Jr., Huston’s valet for the occasion, handed John his costume. It began with some ancient and beautiful English riding breeches, and whatever effect these may have had was immediately destroyed by tennis shoes, a mauve shirt, Alice McIntyre’s silk handkerchief, a Faubus-for-President button, and Frank Taylor’s hat, a sennit straw number with a Madras band. Taylor didn’t want to give up his hat, which had been the first and last of a marque at Brooks Brothers, but refusing Huston would have been tantamount to refusing a match to an Olympic torch-bearer.

Huston chided Pearson, who looked apprehensive; “Remember Chantilly. Stop crying. Keep a stiff upper lip. We ride or we don’t get out of town.” Caen: “He can’t smile, for Christ’s sake. He’s seen his camel.” Nancy Camp, Miss Chronicle Camel Keeper from San Francisco, in an abbreviated Gay Nineties costume, gave each of them a drink and they went off to the stables at the finish line to look at their mounts.

Casey Baldwin, director of the Fleishacker Zoo, who had loaned the camels, was trying vainly to get saddles and muzzles on the two beasts. Huston’s, a five-year-old Bactrian (two-humps) cow name Old Heenan, had never been ridden but was fairly tractable. The sight of Pearson’s camel only inspired despair. It was a fifty-year-old dromedary (one hump) named Izmir (Izzy) Kufte that had been retired from all activity twenty three years before. A camel is one of God’s unloveliest creatures anyway, but this was one moth-and-rat-eaten, and there was no visible place where a man might cling. In desperation, Baldwin had wrapped an old tennis net around and around Izzy’s midriff and Pearson was invited to hang on to the net during the race.

The Indio entry, a hot unmilked fifteen-year-old female Bactrian named Sheba, or Deglan Noor, was tethered at the starting line. All of the camels, and Pearson, were in a hydrophobic rage, the camels poking their obscene tongues through the leather muzzles, revealing horrible long yellow teeth, and swinging their insanely quick necks around in attempts to bite their riders. Lucius Beebe and Charles Clegg lined up the camels, which were getting up and down endlessly on their splayed legs, in total fury.

Clegg fired the starting pistol shortly before the camels died of rage. Huston’s camel headed like a shot toward the stable on the other side of the finish line, outrunning the horses that were meant to lead the race. Pearson’s crazed camel went in all directions, through the crowd, up, over, and around parked cars, mashing in the trunk of a new Lincoln, narrowly missed a six-year-old girl, and then headed for the open door of Piper’s Opera House, a city block from the prescribed course. Pearson clung like a fly to the hide of a mad elephant, ducking under the hump to miss the doorway of Piper’s, and managed to get off the camel in the lobby of the opera house. He sat for some twenty minutes afterward in a catatonic trance on a windowsill, hugging his knees and crying.

The Indio rider had been thrown at the very start, and Deglan Noor crushed several people against cars in his path, but injured no one. Huston was a clear winner by 234 lengths, and beamed for the photographers as he rode across the finish line, hair flying in the wind. Frank Taylor said that Huston looked like the sign from the George C. Tilyou Steeplechase ride at Coney Island as he swung into the stables.

Huston was brought to the judge’s stand, and asked to say a few words for a national ABC radio show. He said that Old Heenan was the damndest camel he had ever ridden, that he owed the victory to his deep understanding of the camel, and to his handler, Charles Mapes, Jr., and that this was the penultimate moment of his racing life.

The announcer interrupted: “He’s been in training many months…”
Huston: “Many years.”
Announcer: “Many years, pardon me.”
Huston: “All of my life, in fact.”
Announcer: “What kind of a feeling is it up there on the back of a camel, John?”
Huston: “Well, it’s uh, there’s uh, you’re living when you’re up there, there’s no question about that. You know you’re alive. It has it’s ups and downs, but so has life itself.”
Announcer: “How true. I don’t know whether he ought to be the director or the comedian in this movie he’s making. John, how did you get on? Our view was blocked. I didn’t see the start.”
Huston: “How did I get on the camel? Well, the way a jockey is put onto a horse. I was given a leg up. I asked a girl if she’d give me a leg up before the start, but she looked rather shocked, so the job was turned over to someone else… a man.”
Announcer: “And your friend, Pearson?”
Huston: ” Well, he gave his horse, his camel, a lovely ride over several parked cars, a few widows and orphans… there are babies in arms still scattered over these historic hillsides, bloodied. Actually, it’s a scene of carnage, owing entirely to Billy’s mismanagement of his camel… He’s just not, just not camelwise…”
Pearson (seizing the microphone): “My camel was a ***.”
Announcer: “That summarizes the race…”
Huston: “He’s lacking in camel lore.”
Announcer: “Incidentally, how did you ever get across the finish line?”
Huston: “Well, what a question? How do you think I won the race without crossing the finish line?”
Announcer: “Well, the only thing I know is that the Chronicle sponsored this event. You were a Chronicle rider, I understand.”
Huston: “Not at all.”
Announcer: “There was a Chronicle camel and the judges, two of the judges, came from San Francisco…”
Huston: “Your misinformation in unfathomable. No, indeed, I represent the PhoenixGazette. All the Chronicle people are my mortal enemies. I’m polite to them but it was a Chronicle man that just took that shot at me. Herb Caen lost his girl to me at…”
Announcer: “It was just before the race, wasn’t it?”
Huston: “Just shortly before the race. My relations with San Francisco and particularly the Chronicle are at a very low ebb indeed.”
Pearson: “It was a foul start.”
Huston: “Anything to do with camels is foul.”
Announcer: “Thank you, John Huston.”

September 6 – While Huston and Pearson recreated the race at a victory banquet at the Sharon House yesterday, Marilyn Monroe was flying back to Reno. Shooting resumed this morning in the saloon at Dayton.”

Astute readers may recall that I mentioned this event two weeks ago. Well, the 2004 Virginia City Camel Races are now history as are the days of filming “The Misfits” in the Silver State. A search for the results of this year’s race is ongoing, but I’m sure that “a good time was had by all”.

Speaking of a good time, yes that promised saloon excursion tale is coming along nicely. It just needed some first hand research to follow up on a finer pint, eh point, or three. Look for it coming along, soon…

I know I’ve been pushing the American Red Cross for your consideration at the end of my last few columns. I’m doing it again today. There are one heck of a lot of people they continue to help on a daily basis all over the world, but especially in Florida and right now. If you can share something, now is a really good time to do so. ’nuff said!

Roger Colton

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Theme Parks & Themed Entertainment

Disney’s Forgotten Halloween Event: The Original Little Monsters on Main Street

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When most Disney fans think of Halloween in the parks, they immediately picture Mickey’s Not-So-Scary Halloween Party at Walt Disney World or the Oogie Boogie Bash at Disneyland Resort. But before those events took over as the must-attend spooky celebrations, there was a little-known event at Disneyland called Little Monsters on Main Street. And its origins? Well, they go all the way back to the 1980s, during a time when America was gripped by fear—the Satanic Panic.

You see, back in the mid-1980s, parents were terrified that Halloween had become dangerous. Urban legends about drug-laced candy or razor blades hidden in apples were widespread, and many parents felt they couldn’t let their kids out of sight for even a moment. Halloween, which was once a carefree evening of trick-or-treating in the neighborhood, had suddenly become a night filled with anxiety.

This is where Disneyland’s Little Monsters on Main Street came in.

The Origins of Little Monsters on Main Street

Back in 1989, the Disneyland Community Action Team—later known as the VoluntEARS—decided to create a safe, nostalgic Halloween experience for Cast Members and their families. Many schools in the Anaheim area were struggling to provide basic school supplies to students, and the VoluntEARS saw an opportunity to combine a safe Halloween with a charitable cause. Thus, Little Monsters on Main Street was born.

This event was not open to the general public. Only Disneyland Cast Members could purchase tickets, which were initially priced at just $5 each. Cast Members could bring their kids—but only as many as were listed as dependents with HR. And even then, the park put a cap on attendance: the first event was limited to just 1,000 children.

A Unique Halloween Experience

Little Monsters on Main Street wasn’t just another Halloween party. It was designed to give kids a safe, fun environment to enjoy trick-or-treating, much like the good old days. On Halloween night in 1989, kids in costume wandered through Disneyland with their pillowcases, visiting 20 different trick-or-treat stations. They also had the chance to ride a few of their favorite Fantasyland attractions, all after the park had closed to the general public.

The event was run entirely by the VoluntEARS—about 200 of them—who built and set up all the trick-or-treat stations themselves. They arrived at Disneyland before the park closed and, as soon as the last guest exited, they began setting up stations across Main Street, Adventureland, Frontierland, Fantasyland, and Tomorrowland. The event ran from 7:30 to 9:30 p.m., and by the time the last pillowcase-wielding kid left, the VoluntEARS cleaned everything up, making sure the park was ready for the next day’s operations.

It wasn’t just candy and rides, though. The event featured unique entertainment, like a Masquerade Parade down Main Street, U.S.A., where kids could show off their costumes. And get this—Disneyland even rigged up a Cast Member dressed as a witch to fly from the top of the Matterhorn to Frontierland on the same wire that Tinker Bell uses during the fireworks. Talk about a magical Halloween experience!

The Haunted Mansion “Tip-Toe” Tour

Perhaps one of the most memorable parts of Little Monsters on Main Street was the special “tip-toe tour” of the Haunted Mansion. Now, Disneyland’s Haunted Mansion can be a pretty scary attraction for younger kids, so during this event, Disney left the doors to the Stretching Room and Portrait Gallery wide open. This allowed kids to walk through and peek at the Haunted Mansion’s spooky interiors without actually having to board the Doom Buggies. For those brave enough to ride, they could, of course, take the full trip through the Haunted Mansion—or they could take the “chicken exit” and leave, no harm done.

Growing Success and a Bigger Event

Thanks to the event’s early success, Little Monsters on Main Street grew in size. By 1991, the attendance cap had been raised to 2,000 kids, and Disneyland added more activities like magic shows and hayrides. They also extended the event’s hours, allowing kids to enjoy the festivities until 10:30 p.m.

In 2002, the event moved over to Disney California Adventure, where it could accommodate even more kids—up to 5,000 in its later years. The name was also shortened to just Little Monsters, since it was no longer held on Main Street. This safe, family-friendly Halloween event continued for several more years, with the last mention of Little Monsters appearing in the Disneyland employee newsletter in 2008. Though some Cast Members recall the event continuing until 2012, it eventually made way for Disney’s more public-facing Halloween events.

From Little Monsters to Mickey’s Not-So-Scary and Oogie Boogie Bash

Starting in the early 2000s, Disney began realizing the potential of Halloween-themed after-hours events for the general public. These early versions of Mickey’s Halloween Party and Mickey’s Halloween Treat eventually evolved into today’s Mickey’s Not-So-Scary Halloween Party and Oogie Boogie Bash. Unfortunately, this also marked the end of the intimate, Cast Member-exclusive Little Monsters event, but it paved the way for the large-scale Halloween celebrations we know and love today.

While it’s bittersweet to see Little Monsters on Main Street fade into Disney history, its legacy lives on through these modern Halloween parties. And even though Cast Members now receive discounted tickets to Mickey’s Not-So-Scary and Oogie Boogie Bash, the special charm of an event created specifically for Disney’s employees and their families remains something worth remembering.

The Merch: A Piece of Little Monsters History

For Disney collectors, the exclusive merchandise created for Little Monsters on Main Street is still out there. You can find pins, name tags, and themed pillowcases on sites like eBay. One of the coolest collectibles is a 1997 cloisonné pin set featuring Huey, Dewey, and Louie dressed as characters from Hercules. Other sets paid tribute to the Main Street Electrical Parade and Pocahontas, while the pillowcases were uniquely designed for each year of the event.

While Little Monsters on Main Street may be gone, it’s a fascinating piece of Disneyland history that played a huge role in shaping the Halloween celebrations we enjoy at Disney parks today.

Want to hear more behind-the-scenes stories like this? Be sure to check out I Want That Too, where Lauren and I dive deep into the history behind Disney’s most beloved attractions, events, and of course, merchandise!

Jim Hill

Jim Hill is an entertainment writer who has specialized in covering The Walt Disney Company for nearly 40 years now. Over that time, he has interviewed hundreds of animators, actors, and Imagineers -- many of whom have shared behind-the-scenes stories with Mr. Hill about how the Mouse House really works. In addition to the 4000+ articles Jim has written for the Web, he also co-hosts a trio of popular podcasts: “Disney Dish with Len Testa,” “Fine Tooning with Drew Taylor” and “Marvel US Disney with Aaron Adams.” Mr. Hill makes his home in Southern New Hampshire with his lovely wife Nancy and two obnoxious cats, Ginger & Betty.

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Theme Parks & Themed Entertainment

The Story of Mickey’s Not-So-Scary Halloween Party: From One Night to a Halloween Family Tradition

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The spooky season is already in full swing at Disney parks on both coasts. On August 9th, the first of 38 Mickey’s Not-So-Scary Halloween Party (MNSSHP) nights for 2024 kicked off at Florida’s Magic Kingdom. Meanwhile, over at Disney California Adventure, the Oogie Boogie Bash began on August 23rd and is completely sold out across its 27 dates this year.

Looking back, it’s incredible to think about how these Halloween-themed events have grown. But for Disney, the idea of charging guests for Halloween fun wasn’t always a given. In fact, when the very first Mickey’s Not-So-Scary Halloween Party debuted on October 31, 1995, it was a modest one-night-only affair. Compare that to the near month-long festivities we see today, and it’s clear that Disney’s approach to Halloween has evolved considerably.

A Not-So-Scary Beginning

I was fortunate enough to attend that very first MNSSHP back in 1995, along with my then 18-month-old daughter Alice and her mom, Michelle. Tickets were a mere $16.95 (I know, can you imagine?), and we pushed Alice around in her sturdy Emmaljunga stroller—Swedish-built and about the size of a small car. Cast Members, charmed by her cuteness, absolutely loaded us up with candy. By the end of the night, we had about 30 pounds of fun-sized candy bars, making that push up to the monorail a bit more challenging.

Mickey’s Halloween Treat 1996 – Photo: Disney
Mickey’s Halloween Treat 1996 – Photo: Disney

This Halloween event was Disney’s response to the growing popularity of Universal Studios Florida’s own Halloween hard ticket event, which started in 1991 as “Fright Nights” before being rebranded as “Halloween Horror Nights” the following year. Universal’s gamble on a horror-themed experience helped salvage what had been a shaky opening for their park, and by 1993, Halloween Horror Nights was a seven-night event, with ticket prices climbing as high as $35. Universal had stumbled upon a goldmine, and Disney took notice.

A Different Approach

Now, here’s where Disney’s unique strategy comes into play. While Universal embraced the gory, scare-filled world of horror, Disney knew that wasn’t their brand. Instead of competing directly with blood and jump-scares, Disney leaned into what they did best: creating magical, family-friendly experiences.

Thus, Mickey’s Not-So-Scary Halloween Party was born. The focus was on fun and whimsy, not fear. Families could bring their small children without worrying about them being terrified by a chainsaw-wielding maniac around the next corner. This event wasn’t just a Halloween party—it was an extension of the Disney magic that guests had come to expect from the parks.

Disney had some experience with seasonal after-hours events, most notably Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas Party, which had started in 1983. But the Halloween party was different, as the Magic Kingdom wasn’t yet decked out in Halloween decor the way it is today. Disney had to create a spooky (but not too spooky) atmosphere using temporary props, fog machines, and, of course, lots of candy.

A key addition to that first event? The debut of the Headless Horseman, who made his eerie appearance in Liberty Square, riding a massive black Percheron. It wasn’t as elaborate as the Boo-to-You Parade we see today, but it marked the beginning of a beloved Disney Halloween tradition.

A Modest Start but a Big Future

That first MNSSHP in 1995 was seen as a trial run. As Disney World spokesman Greg Albrecht told the Orlando Sentinel, “If it’s successful, we’ll do it again.” And while attendance was sparse that night, there was clearly potential. By 1997, the event expanded to two nights, and by 1999, Mickey’s Not-So-Scary Halloween Party had grown into a multi-night celebration with a full-fledged parade. Today, in 2024, it’s a staple of the fall season at Walt Disney World, offering 38 nights of trick-or-treating, character meet-and-greets, and special entertainment.

Universal’s Influence

It’s interesting to reflect on how Disney’s Halloween event might never have existed without the competition from Universal. Just as “The Wizarding World of Harry Potter” forced Disney to step up their game with “Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge,” Universal’s success with Halloween Horror Nights likely spurred Disney into action with MNSSHP. The friendly rivalry between the two parks has continually pushed both to offer more to their guests, and we’re all better off because of it.

So the next time you find yourself trick-or-treating through the Magic Kingdom, watching the Headless Horseman gallop by, or marveling at the seasonal fireworks, take a moment to appreciate how this delightful tradition came to be—all thanks to a little competition and Disney’s commitment to creating not-so-scary magic.


For more Disney history and behind-the-scenes stories, check out the latest episodes of the I Want That Too podcast on the Jim Hill Media network.

Jim Hill

Jim Hill is an entertainment writer who has specialized in covering The Walt Disney Company for nearly 40 years now. Over that time, he has interviewed hundreds of animators, actors, and Imagineers -- many of whom have shared behind-the-scenes stories with Mr. Hill about how the Mouse House really works. In addition to the 4000+ articles Jim has written for the Web, he also co-hosts a trio of popular podcasts: “Disney Dish with Len Testa,” “Fine Tooning with Drew Taylor” and “Marvel US Disney with Aaron Adams.” Mr. Hill makes his home in Southern New Hampshire with his lovely wife Nancy and two obnoxious cats, Ginger & Betty.

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History

The Evolution and History of Mickey’s ToonTown

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Disneyland in Anaheim, California, holds a special place in the hearts of Disney fans worldwide, I mean heck, it’s where the magic began after all.  Over the years it’s become a place that people visit in search of memorable experiences. One fan favorite area of the park is Mickey’s Toontown, a unique land that lets guests step right into the colorful, “Toony” world of Disney animation. With the recent reimagining of the land and the introduction of Micky and Minnies Runaway Railway, have you ever wondered how this land came to be?

There is a fascinating backstory of how Mickey’s Toontown came into existence. It’s a tale of strategic vision, the influence of Disney executives, and a commitment to meeting the needs of Disney’s valued guests.

The Beginning: Mickey’s Birthdayland

The story of Mickey’s Toontown starts with Mickey’s Birthdayland at Walt Disney World’s Magic Kingdom. Opened in 1988 to celebrate Mickey Mouse’s 60th birthday, this temporary attraction was met with such overwhelming popularity that it inspired Disney executives to think bigger. The idea was to create a permanent, immersive land where guests could step into the animated world of Mickey Mouse and his friends.

In the early ’90s, Disneyland was in need of a refresh. Michael Eisner, the visionary leader of The Walt Disney Company at the time, had an audacious idea: create a brand-new land in Disneyland that would celebrate Disney characters in a whole new way. This was the birth of Mickey’s Toontown.

Initially, Disney’s creative minds toyed with various concepts, including the idea of crafting a 100-Acre Woods or a land inspired by the Muppets. However, the turning point came when they considered the success of “Who Framed Roger Rabbit.” This film’s popularity and the desire to capitalize on contemporary trends set the stage for Toontown’s creation.

From Concept to Reality: The Birth of Toontown

In 1993, Mickey’s Toontown opened its gates at Disneyland, marking the first time in Disney Park history where guests could experience a fully realized, three-dimensional world of animation. This new land was not just a collection of attractions but a living, breathing community where Disney characters “lived,” worked, and played.

Building Challenges: Innovative Solutions

The design of Mickey’s Toontown broke new ground in theme park aesthetics. Imagineers were tasked with bringing the two-dimensional world of cartoons into a three-dimensional space. This led to the creation of over 2000 custom-built props and structures that embodied the ‘squash and stretch’ principle of animation, giving Toontown its distinctiveness.

And then there was also the challenge of hiding the Team Disney Anaheim building, which bore a striking resemblance to a giant hotdog. The Imagineers had to think creatively, using balloon tests and imaginative landscaping to seamlessly integrate Toontown into the larger park.

Key Attractions: Bringing Animation to Life

Mickey’s Toontown featured several groundbreaking attractions. “Roger Rabbit’s Car Toon Spin,” inspired by the movie “Who Framed Roger Rabbit,” became a staple of Toontown, offering an innovative ride experience. Gadget’s Go-Coaster, though initially conceived as a Rescue Rangers-themed ride, became a hit with younger visitors, proving that innovative design could create memorable experiences for all ages.

Another crown jewel of Toontown is Mickey’s House, a walkthrough attraction that allowed guests to explore the home of Mickey Mouse himself. This attraction was more than just a house; it was a carefully crafted piece of Disney lore. The house was designed in the American Craftsman style, reflecting the era when Mickey would have theoretically purchased his first home in Hollywood. The attention to detail was meticulous, with over 2000 hand-crafted, custom-built props, ensuring that every corner of the house was brimming with character and charm. Interestingly, the design of Mickey’s House was inspired by a real home in Wichita Falls, making it a unique blend of real-world inspiration and Disney magic.

Mickey’s House also showcased Disney’s commitment to creating interactive and engaging experiences. Guests could make themselves at home, sitting in Mickey’s chair, listening to the radio, and exploring the many mementos and references to Mickey’s animated adventures throughout the years. This approach to attraction design – where storytelling and interactivity merged seamlessly – was a defining characteristic of ToonTown’s success.

Executive Decisions: Shaping ToonTown’s Unique Attractions

The development of Mickey’s Toontown wasn’t just about creative imagination; it was significantly influenced by strategic decisions from Disney executives. One notable input came from Jeffrey Katzenberg, who suggested incorporating a Rescue Rangers-themed ride. This idea was a reflection of the broader Disney strategy to integrate popular contemporary characters and themes into the park, ensuring that the attractions remained relevant and engaging for visitors.

In addition to Katzenberg’s influence, Frank Wells, the then-President of The Walt Disney Company, played a key role in the strategic launch of Toontown’s attractions. His decision to delay the opening of “Roger Rabbit’s Car Toon Spin” until a year after Toontown’s debut was a calculated move. It was designed to maintain public interest in the park by offering new experiences over time, thereby giving guests more reasons to return to Disneyland.

These executive decisions highlight the careful planning and foresight that went into making Toontown a dynamic and continuously appealing part of Disneyland. By integrating current trends and strategically planning the rollout of attractions, Disney executives ensured that Toontown would not only capture the hearts of visitors upon its opening but would continue to draw them back for new experiences in the years to follow.

Global Influence: Toontown’s Worldwide Appeal

The concept of Mickey’s Toontown resonated so strongly that it was replicated at Tokyo Disneyland and influenced elements in Disneyland Paris and Hong Kong Disneyland. Each park’s version of Toontown maintained the core essence of the original while adapting to its cultural and logistical environment.

Evolution and Reimagining: Toontown Today

As we approach the present day, Mickey’s Toontown has recently undergone a significant reimagining to welcome “Mickey & Minnie’s Runaway Railway” in 2023. This refurbishment aimed to enhance the land’s interactivity and appeal to a new generation of Disney fans, all while retaining the charm that has made ToonTown a beloved destination for nearly three decades.

Dive Deeper into ToonTown’s Story

Want to know more about Mickey’s Toontown and hear some fascinating behind-the-scenes stories, then check out the latest episode of Disney Unpacked on Patreon @JimHillMedia. In this episode, the main Imagineer who worked on the Toontown project shares lots of interesting stories and details that you can’t find anywhere else. It’s full of great information and fun facts, so be sure to give it a listen!

Jim Hill

Jim Hill is an entertainment writer who has specialized in covering The Walt Disney Company for nearly 40 years now. Over that time, he has interviewed hundreds of animators, actors, and Imagineers -- many of whom have shared behind-the-scenes stories with Mr. Hill about how the Mouse House really works. In addition to the 4000+ articles Jim has written for the Web, he also co-hosts a trio of popular podcasts: “Disney Dish with Len Testa,” “Fine Tooning with Drew Taylor” and “Marvel US Disney with Aaron Adams.” Mr. Hill makes his home in Southern New Hampshire with his lovely wife Nancy and two obnoxious cats, Ginger & Betty.

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