Disneyland With No People
When I was 17, I worked at Fantasyland’s magic shop as a magician demonstrating Svengali decks, cups and balls, and the Incredible (their word) Shrinking Die. I loved working to exhaustion, and I was proud to become the shop’s youngest night manager. When Disneyland’s summer hours were extended to 9 p.m. on weekdays and midnight on weekends, I was in heaven. I could watch date night unfold, allowing me to observe and absorb teen romantic norms. One night, however, a chance encounter with a renowned artist was to grip me more than 60 years later, setting my nostalgia for Disneyland in dramatic black and white.
