“So, you ride roller coasters for a living?”
That’s been a common phrase aimed at me for 19 years. I sheepishly respond with “Yeah, sorta.”
Not anymore. I’m switching to “Yeah, I used to ride roller coasters for a living.” As of Saturday, I will no longer be writing or riding for the Orlando Sentinel.
Given the state of the industry and the economy, I quickly point out it’s a voluntary departure, one that comes with decades of good feelings and great experiences.
My charge as a theme parks reporter has been to provide Central Floridians with the facts about what is happening or what is planned at our attractions. I avoided telling you what you will love (or hate) or that it’s too expensive. It’s subjective, and, besides, y’all are all over the place (See Maelstrom versus Frozen Ever After or clockwise versus counterclockwise around World Showcase).
This job isn’t about me, but I have me-centered stories that weren’t fit for print. Until now.
The once-upon-a-time view from on high outside the Tower of Terror ride at Disney’s Hollywood Studios. This is from the theme park’s giant sorcerer’s hat era. (Dewayne Bevil/Orlando Sentinel)
Walt Disney World visitors onboard Tower of Terror are startled by the high view of the Hollywood Studios ride and the presence of a reporter on the catwalk. (Dewayne Bevil/Orlando Sentinel)
Way up highlights
One day, Walt Disney World’s public relations team asked if I wanted to hang from the outside of Tower of Terror at Disney’s Hollywood Studios. What?
For years, I thought the fire-escape-looking structures on the tower were purely decorative. As it turns out, one could climb out a window and stand on the level behind the big Hollywood Hotel letters. I was tethered and ready to go.
If you’re confused by this, imagine the Brazilian teenagers actually in the ride shaft. The sliding doors opened up there, and they saw a Theme Park Ranger standing there … right before they dropped.
What I learned: I needed to study Portuguese.
I agreed to this outing because it was so curious. I mean, the lawyers would have laughed hard had I requested it. This was in my early days of reporting, and we were trying not to be fanboy bloggers. But its news value was low, tied to a Tower anniversary. I remember mostly seeing roofs, tiny tourists and the giant sorcerer’s hat, and taking pictures with my Blackberry.
Semi-related: I’ve also been to the top of Bok Tower and sat beneath 60 big bronze bells. There was a groovy apartment up there (shag carpet, spiral staircase), where its carillonneur had an office. And I learned how to spell carillonneur.
Red Huber / Orlando Sentinel
Thousands of guests arrive for the grand opening of the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal’s Islands of Adventure in 2010. (Orlando Sentinel file)
Potter prep
Much happened during the three-day media buildup to the debut of the first Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Islands of Adventure. There were questions about J.K. Rowling’s participation, Dwight Howard somehow fitting himself into the Forbidden Journey ride vehicle, extraordinarily enthused international media outlets and then the opening-day throng of robed fans, some of whom waited eight hours to stumble in and literally kiss the ground.
The weeks before were interesting, too, including a first tasting of butterbeer, a distant peek at the Sorting Hat, visitors looming outside the Hogsmeade walls in case the attraction might open and the first Forbidden Journey rides for the public, sprung on us via social media. My boss broke into break-the-budget mode and said “Go! Use the valet!”
An actor portrays Jesus at the Qumran Cave inside the (now-demolished) Holy Land Experience attraction. (Orlando Sentinel file)
D. Bevil made me do it
Sometimes driving along Interstate 4, it seems like the now-demolished Holy Land Experience never happened. Maybe it was all a Very New Testament parable?
I once wrote a Calendar column about spending all day at Holy Land. One standout to me was an actor portraying Jesus, who spieled a sort of Christ’s Greatest Hits for the gathered children. I noted in print that he was rocking a Johnny Depp hairstyle, which, where I come from — Depp and I hail from the same hometown — is high praise.
A reader was unamused/outraged. He called to say “I can only imagine you were assigned this story because of the evil contained in your last name.”
Orlando Sentinel reporter Dewayne Bevil becomes Scooter, the Spider Crab at SeaWorld in 2016. (Orlando Sentinel file)
Character studies
There was a phase when the parks played dress up with me. I was a man-sized blue crab for SeaWorld’s Halloween Spooktacular. I played a turnstile operator at Universal Studios for an episode of “Guiding Light.” I became Pepe the leper, complete with pustules, during a scare-actor boot camp for a makeshift scare zone at Universal’s Halloween Horror Nights. (What I learned: I don’t have the knees for it.) And I was trained as an HHN chainsaw gang member.
It was suggested by handlers that I create up a backstory for my chainsaw character to give my performance purpose. I said, innocently, “What if I had little round glasses held together with a Band-Aid, and a scar? Sort of a clumsy wizard?”
It got very quiet in the chainsaw camp.
Patrick Connolly / Orlando Sentinel
Slinky Dog Dash slinks into the home stretch at Disney’s Hollywood Studios theme park in 2018. (Patrick Connolly/Orlando Sentinel)
Thanks and things
OK, I’ve got a million of them. Plus, there’s my theme park origin story that’s too long a tale and could be an Orlando Fringe show. Instead, we skip to the thank yous.
Thanks to my Orlando Sentinel co-workers, including patient editors, creative photographers, assorted podmates and a slew of hard-working and sharp reporters, going back to the original Theme Park Rangers blogging group and beyond to my business desk days and the Calendar section design era. We have seen things.
My appreciation to attractions officials, creative types, public relations folks and other experts who helped with facts, figures and fanciful requests.
A salute to the fan bases, particularly the bloggers, YouTubers, TikTok troupe, assorted influencers and other experts with constant eyes on change who were willing and knowledgeable interviewees. Who else to argue with about the last humps of the Slinky Dog Dash ride? (Best part or worst part of the coaster? Go!).
Shout-outs to IRL friends who have listened to tall tales and made slight detours for me while making the theme park rounds. They’ve also helped me remember that I was getting paid to do what tourists save year-round to do.
Lastly, thanks to the Sentinel readers, particularly loyal subscribers who have hung in there through my repeated rants about double-wide strollers, children on shoulders, parking-lot conditions and the “fill in all available space” mantras (plus all my parenthetical stylings).
My momma said to say I had a nice time. I did.
Dewayne Bevil / Orlando Sentinel
One of the original theme park rangers is going off duty, but the monitoring of children on shoulders will continue. (Dewayne Bevil/Orlando Sentinel)