Mostly, I’ll remember the faces I saw every day when I came to work. “You can design, and create, and build the most wonderful place in the world,” said Walt Disney, “But it takes people to make the dream a reality.” Nowhere, at any job, within Disney or out in the world, have I found that spirit more alive than at The Great Movie Ride. We lived for those extra experiences that made every long shift completely worth it. Pat Moran and I had a routine worked out where, if one of us was on dock and saw another coming in at the end of the show, the person on the vehicle would exaggerate their exhaustion, wiping their brow and commenting to the first few rows that they were glad it was over. Then the person on dock would walk alongside the vehicle and remind them, “Hey, one more thing,” which led into the, “Oh, and one more thing,” conclusion of the spiel. I don’t even know how we started this or who did it first, but we kept it up for months.

There are countless other memories of these people that are so genuine, if I had ever worked with any of them individually at any other job, they would have been my favorite co-worker by far; and yet I had dozens of them in one single place. Courtney Ann’s personality was infectious and joyful. Patrick Harris seemed to convert energy from nothing. Megan Keyes found ways to laugh at the worst guest interactions. Niki Delatorre interacted with children like a rock star. Erica Longman was chill and down-to-Earth on the worst days, and seemed to put the world into perspective with her presence alone. Michael Fargnoli was talented and creative. Erik Appleyard was smart and passionate, and was always reading advanced business books that went way over my head. I swear, Meagan Stephenson had a smile as wide as the room. Wes Whitten personified class and charisma. Jennifer DeVoll was effortlessly sweet and shy when I met her, but she eventually evolved to be a GMR master who became bandit and gangster trained, and ended up working at the attraction for years. Paul Leggett convinced me to maintain the ironic nature of my performance because I reminded him of character actor Frank Gorshin, best known for playing The Riddler on the 1960s Batman television series (I’m almost certain Paul meant this as a compliment). Literally, one of the single hardest times I have ever laughed was an incident with Leo Kratochvil, Brad Huett, and Kevin Koontz regarding the 2009 Kentucky Derby, that has led to an inside joke between Leo and I for eight years. I still remember the name of the Kentucky Derby winner that year by how I announced it to Kim Cirillo and Melissa Kealey: Mine That Bird!

And of course, there is the incomparable Keith Cannon, of whom I imagine if you polled every person who ever worked at The Great Movie Ride and asked them to name the single most important person to its legacy, about 90% would say Keith and the other 10% are lying and never actually worked there. What surprised me so much about Keith, who has worked at the attraction since its inception in 1989, and will be there 28 years later as it closes, was his unwavering kindness — all the more impressive when you consider that he really had no reason to be kind at all. I cannot imagine how many CP classes he watched roll through, people like myself who stayed five months and returned to our lives, and yet he took the time to get to know every one of us. Once, while I was backstage at Anubis with my robe on, waiting to step onto the platform and save my vehicle, Keith emerged as the bandit from the previous show and started a conversation. He wanted to know where I was from, what my sister was doing on the College Program, were we enjoying the experience? I nearly missed my cue. Late in my program, I asked why he took the time to know everyone when we were clearly not as important to the overall tone and history of the ride. “Your handprint is on the wall, just like mine,” he said. “Once a movie rider…”