Richard Hyatt: Trip to Disney World evokes childhood memories
Uncle Remus' stories are no longer shared and "Song of the South" is hard to get on DVD, but Br'er Rabbit and his briar patch splash on at Walt Disney World.
Last weekend I found the stories I enjoyed as a child are preserved at Splash Mountain, a roller coaster ride where five times we stood in lines before Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dahing 53 feet into a man-made pond.
I was surprised to see the rabbit, fox and bear come alive in the darkness of an attraction that blends the cuddles of "It's a Small World" and the screams of a drop that instantly washes away those smiles.
My 5-year-old adores the serenity of the carousel and the swirl of the teacups, but Kamryn emerged as a thrill rider. We rode Splash Mountain, Big Thunder Mountain, the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train and the venerable Space Mountain, which, while no longer futuristic, still provides a rush.
Disney has mounted cameras at choice locations that guarantee the theme park $14.95 a frame and gives the purchaser candid looks at themselves. These pictures preserve the thrill and anticipation on Kamryn's face as over and over again we proved that what goes up always comes down.
Mickey Mouse was an energetic young rodent when I first went to the Magic Kingdom. Much has changed, especially the cost of wearing mouse ears. But the core of the cast is the same. They've had some nips and tucks but Mickey, Minnie, Donald Duck, Goofy, Pluto and friends still make kids smile.
It always bothered me that Disney ignored the characters from the Joel Chandler Harris tales. I used to be enthralled by the antics of Br'er Rabbit and how he could outsmart Br'er Fox and Br'er Bear.
The first movie I ever saw in a theater was "Song of the South," a break-through film that merged live action with animation. It introduced "Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah," a song that won an Oscar in 1947.
The narrator is Uncle Remus, who in the years after the Civil War shares African folk stories with two white kids who live on the same plantation. He tells them in southern dialect.
Harris wrote these stories in the Atlanta Constitution before they were published in book form. At the time, he rivaled Mark Twain as a great American humorist. His son, Julian Harris, owned the Columbus Enquirer and won a Pulitzer Prize in 1926 for editorials against the Ku Klux Klan.
From the beginning, the movie inspired allegations of racism, leading Disney officials to shelve the characters for decades. It's good to see that changing, for they reflect the classical fables of a trickster who outwits his adversaries.
His tales should never be forgotten and Harris deserves his place as a regional storyteller. And Br'er Rabbit should always be found in his favorite briar patch.
-- Richard Hyatt is an independent correspondent. Reach him at hyatt31906@knology.net.
This story was originally published February 17, 2015 at 10:54 PM with the headline "Richard Hyatt: Trip to Disney World evokes childhood memories."