While in Marceline, Missouri I did enjoy going to the Walt Disney Museum housed in the old train depot. Trains went by constantly – they say about 60 a day. There was a cool “train watching room” upstairs with huge windows and chairs and some stuff about hobos …but I’m getting ahead of myself.
“Walt Disney Hometown Museum.”
Most of the museum is, to be honest, pretty boring. But then you go UPSTAIRS. Upstairs is a miniature Disneyland that an artist created for something like 40 years. It is a scale model and it is amazing. On one wall of the room is this map from the 1960’s… and the whole room is set up with everything in place.
It was like we were giants walking around the park and I never wanted to leave!
I’ve been to Disneyland twice and below is the only picture from either trip. Standing next to Happy, can I look any more like Bashful?
The only rides I remember going on were the matterhorn, teacups, haunted mansion, and it’s a small world (depicted sooo cutely in miniature):
So. I tripped and fell while walking around in there and it was one of those slow motion, half-falls that turned into an all out sprawl on the floor. The worst part is on the way down my hand instinctively went to grab whatever it was near to help break the fall and what was near was the miniature train station at the front entrance to the park. During the slow motion fall I was fighting my instincts: “you can’t grab at the museum model! It’s probably priceless!” “I have nothing else to grab! I can’t help myself!” and I know I at least banged into a piece of plexiglass in front. In my mind this was setting off a sea of falling miniatures, like dominoes, and I’d be charged with single handedly trashing the museum.
In reality, nothing fell except me. I lie behind a black table skirt laughing too hard to get up and the friend I was with couldn’t help for a minute due to laughing and pointing and being unable to remove their other hand from theatrically covering their wide open mouth. I knew as soon as I got up all the elderly people in the room would be asking if I was okay. So I jumped up and smiled, ready to say I was fine and give a “nothing to see here!” but the room was completely silent. No one spoke, everyone’s head was just facing me staring – emotionless – and it seriously looked like a field of cows that then slowly turned their heads back to what they were doing.
In the train-watching room there was this sign showing little symbols hobos drew in coal to communicate with each other:
The red arrow points to my favorite below:
The main street through town is said to have been one of the inspirations for Disneyland’s Main Street USA and has these cute signs:
And over in Fantasyland, I dreamed up how lucky these kids are to have such a fairytalish education… and matterhorns and Pirates of the Caribbean rides on the playground:
On the drive home I ended up behind a Hy-Vee truck congratulating Brenda’s truckdriver brother, Jim.
A surprise ending to a magical, leg-bruising day.