by David Smith
CHAPTER 30
Lynie
October 27th, 1960
Burbank Studios, WED Division
“Can you put some sort of signal on the magnetic tape we are using for recorded music, and make a mechanical bird’s mouth move?” Walt Disney asked one of his engineers at WED, the design arm of Disneyland headquartered at the Disney Studio in Burbank.
“You mean like a robot?” the engineer asked.
“No, I mean like a real bird,” Walt said, flapping his arms like wings.
“Probably,” the engineer said, shrugging his shoulders.
From behind a counter, Walt pulled out a small, antique bird cage with a bird that was perched on a metal rod hanging inside. After setting the cage in front of the engineer, Walt pushed a lever on the bottom of the cage and the bird’s mouth opened and the wings extended a bit.
“This thing is over a hundred years old,” Walt said, making the bird run through its mechanical motions. “Couldn’t we do better than this?”
The engineer leaned in and peered into the cage, looking at the model bird’s intricate operation. “Where did you get this?” The man asked, repeating the action Walt had done in animating the bird by pulling the lever in the back of the cage.
“New Orleans, at a collectable shop. It was a gift for Lillian. However, it got me thinking,” Walt said, telling the man about where he got the gift for his wife.
“Yeah? Thinking about what, Walt?” the engineer stood back up and faced Walt.
“What if we created a dinner show where birds were the hosts and the entertainment…you know, performing an act like what we’ve seen in Hawaii at those Polynesian luaus?” Walt said. “We could have a bunch of perches set up hanging down from the ceiling, birds singing, talking, making jokes while guests enjoy a wonderful meal. Maybe other creatures too, or plants or…what about those, you know, those Tiki totem poles?”
The engineer thought about it. “It could be done. Sure. We can create signals along the recording tape to make servos and small motors activate and deactivate.”
“How about turning their heads? Heck, I want these birds to look so real that the guests see the birds’ chests move as if breathing,” Walt said.
“Let me talk with Rolly about it. He’s designing a bunch of very small moving machine elements,” the engineer said and then asked, “This would be indoors, right Walt?”
“Right, in a room that was decorated in typical Polynesian colors, architecture, and theme…all the way down to the waitresses wearing moo-moos and leis.”
“Have you got a name for this restaurant yet, Walt?’
Walt shrugged. “Haven’t gotten that far. Heck I just started thinking about this last week when I got this mechanical bird,” Walt said, motioning to the cage still on the counter.
The engineer stood nodding his head, thinking about something while looking at the bird cage.
“Tiki totem poles, singing plants, wise-cracking birds?” the man said, repeating the show components described by Walt. As an engineer, he was not thinking so much of the overall impressions of the show, just the logistics, electrical controls, soundtrack coordination, and mechanics of making such a show work.
“Can you have something for me in a few weeks?” Walt asked. The engineer could tell this was something Walt really wanted to move forward on quickly.
“Sure, Walt. I think I can have some prototypes of maybe one bird to see how we can make it move in a week or two,” the man said. Then with more animation, the engineer smiled and said, “No problem at all, Walt. That would be something. Birds and plants singing different songs, maybe some Tiki torches to add to the theme. Hey, your Tiki room could really be enchanting, Walt!”
“What did you just say it would be?”
“Enchanting?” the man asked.
“No, Tiki room,” Walt said. “Wait, how about Enchanting Tiki room…” Walt’s eyes took on a familiar gleam.
The engineer stood looking at Walt Disney.
“That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” Walt said, actually telling the man, not asking.
June 23rd, 1963
Lynette Collins and Rena Presley were among the original cast members on the opening day of Walt Disney’s Enchanted Tiki Room. Lynette was standing in front of the entrance doors at the top of a short flight of steps, wearing an orange and white flowered moo-moo that fit the tropical, Polynesian look of the waiting area outside the show room. She was thrilled to be part of a new attraction, especially one that attracted so many visitors who wanted to see the new fangled, “audio-animatronic” show that everyone was talking about.
Lynette was equally excited to be one of the few chosen cast members who would work the opening day of the Enchanted Tiki Room. She was even the first to wake up José the audio-animatronic lead “Master of Ceremonies” bird that would start the show for the very first time.
Guests were surrounded by over two hundred mechanical birds, flowers, and even Tiki totem poles, all of which would sing songs and tell jokes throughout the seventeen minute show. Catchy songs like, “Let’s All Sing Like the Birdies Sing” had guests tapping their feet and clapping their hands; the musical fantasy production recalling legends of the South Seas and Polynesian Culture, heralded in a new breed of entertainment utilizing the new robotic, audio-animatronic animation.
Lynette was glad that Walt Disney abandoned his original idea of a dinner show with the birds. She knew, having worked as a waitress before coming to Disneyland, the guests would probably never leave if there was even a hint of a show going on. And knowing people eat at different speeds, let alone different amounts, there would be no way to maintain a regular program length. Instead, the show itself showcased the unusual electronically-controlled birds and plants in a musically entertaining presentation.
Lynette enjoyed the four wisecracking macaws that were the so-called ‘ring-leaders’ of the show; Fritz, Jose, Michael, and Pierre, who were each of different international heritages, as their names and accents suggested.
But what Lynette enjoyed even more were the men in the audience. She often would catch one looking at her, smiling, as she introduced the show.
And Lynette always smiled back.
Tuesday, June 29th, 2010
11:27am
Blain located the double-wide trailer on the left side of the narrow street within the “Del Oro Trailer Park” just off Seventeenth Street in Santa Ana. In what used to be a respectable neighborhood, with small vintage homes that had been built two or three generations ago, the area was now derelict. Bars on the windows of homes were the norm, not the exception. Seen on many of the front porches, many of the homes they passed had beat-up couches or old, bench-seats from what would have been large, older model cars, probably Chevy Impalas or Monte Carlos.
The Del Oro Trailer Park did feel like a small oasis in the middle of what Blain liked to label this part of Santa Ana as a ‘Third World Country.’ While most of the double-wide models in the park had bars on their windows, most were painted or decorated with some metal scrollwork; most of the trailers had some sort of potted flowers or flowerboxes lining their carport; in the small spaces in front of each trailer, most had small, miniature gardens, ornamental decorations or simply a mound of grass. It was as if the trailer owners still had some element of personal pride or community awareness.
Malaysia looked around as Blain drove to Lynette’s address. He was holding a small note pad that he had written her address on, checking addresses against the number he had on the sheet.
“This reminds me of pictures I used to see of East Germany,” Malaysia said, seeing the surrounding neighborhood and the urban blight that was consuming the area like a cancer.
“Yeah, I’m not too proud of having you see this part of America…but…” Blain wanted to make an excuse for what they were seeing. He had none.
“I understand, Blain.” Malaysia could tell he was disconcerted with what she was seeing.
Locating the address, Blai
n made a three-point U-Turn in the narrow street, turning to park on the other side of the street.
The two got out and walked up towards the front door of the trailer in front of where Blain had parked. Looking around, Blain pushed the button on his key-fob to lock his car doors; twice.
“Good morning!” Lynette Collins said, greeting the two as they approached the barred screen door.
“Hello,” Blain and Malaysia said taken aback by the happy greeting.
“Blain, is it?” Lynette asked, holding out her hand.
“Yes, Ms. Collins. This is my friend Missy Johansen.” Lynette shook Malaysia’s hand.
“Oh, it’s nice to meet some young Disney cast members!” Lynette said assuming both worked at the Park. “Tell me, is it still a lot of fun working at the Park? Do you get to meet a lot of nice people?” Lynette asked, as they stood under the car port. A 1996 Buick Park Avenue filled most of the space.
Blain looked at Malaysia and smiled. “Oh, yes. I’ve met some incredible people,” Blain answered.
“Oh, good! Well, please, come in.”
“Nathan Duncan was a nice boy,” Lynette said after she had poured three glasses of iced tea. Lynette Collins was not what Blain was expecting. From remembering what Rita had said about the woman when she was younger, Blain expected to see someone desperately trying to retain her youth. He expected to see a woman with flaming red dyed hair, excessive make-up, and excessive jewelry, someone still courting the eligible—and even not so eligible—senior men within her trailer park community. Instead, Lynette Collins had white hair, nicely groomed, no make-up, and only wore a small cross on a chain around her neck. Lynette was also stockier than Blain anticipated. She more resembled a woman who had worked hard all her life, as opposed to the image of a gold-digger that Blain had developed since talking to Rita at Club 33.
“He was easy to please,” Lynette continued, “but after his mom lost the settlement on her husband’s death, Nathan didn’t seem to come around.”
“So, you didn’t stop seeing him; he just quit coming by?” Blain asked.
“Yes. Oh, I think he was embarrassed or depressed…,” Lynette said, trailing off.
Blain looked around the small living room that was connected to an open kitchen and a small, narrow counter that separated the two rooms. On the walls were some oil paintings, nothing of artistic value, he could tell, but tastefully decorated. He didn’t know if he was expecting oil paintings of Elvis Presley on black velvet, but he was surprised. Perhaps Lynette’s taste—and needs—had changed over the several decades since she worked at Disneyland. Or, perhaps Rita’s description of her was tainted by her own perception of ‘wholesome.’
“Did Nathan ever talk to you about a key?” Blain asked, hoping Lynette might shed some light to the note discovered in the wallet with the small brass key.
“Key?” Lynette seemed to be thinking. After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “No, not that I can remember.”
Blain then thought about the name on the envelope. “Did Nathan have a nickname for you at all? Something like ‘Lynie’ or ‘Lynn’?” Blain asked, and then added another name, “Or Becky.”
Lynette laughed. “‘Becky’? I can see where someone might call me Lynie or Lynn… But Becky? Nah. We only saw each other for a couple weeks. Never even went on a date. I would get him free juice at the Tiki room on occasion.” Lynette thought for a moment. “I think it was Dole. Yes, that’s right; it was Dole Pineapple juice we served in the waiting area.”
“So he never referred to you as ‘Lynie’? Even within that short period of time he would come around?”
Lynette shook her head. “I’m sorry, but no. Nathan was not a talker, and I think I would have remembered him calling me that.”
Blain took a sip of his iced tea, running out of ideas.
“Do you know anything about the lost settlement that Nathan thought he was getting?” Malaysia asked. Blain gave a proud look at Malaysia, for her coming up with something during the moment of silence.
“I just know that Nathan was originally on cloud nine. I guess he and his sister didn’t have much growing up,” Lynette offered, looking at Malaysia. “The settlement, from the way Nathan was describing it, would have made them relatively rich.” Lynette thought for a moment, looking from Blain back to Malaysia. “Well, now that I think about it, ‘rich’ to Nathan may have been still a pittance to others.”
“You just said something. Nathan had a sister? Do you remember her name? Did she work in the Park too?” Blain shot out rapid-fire questions.
“Yes, No, and I’m not sure,” Lynette answered back with a smile. “No, actually I couldn’t tell you if he had ever mentioned her name. With something like 3000 employees working at the Park, I guess, sure, she may have had a job there but, I wouldn’t bet more than a dollar on that.”
Blain nodded, understanding. Now, with Disney’s California Adventure right next door to Disneyland, Disney employed over ten thousand people in the Parks there. People all the time would ask Blain if they knew so-and-so who worked there. It was the proverbial needle in the haystack probability.
Blain finished his iced tea. He had an idea of where to go next but didn’t want to say anything.
“Lynette, thank you for your kind hospitality,” Blain said, standing. “We have an appointment in a little bit,” Blain said, referring in his mind to him and Malaysia’s ‘appointment’ with the sands of Newport Beach. Malaysia stood, followed his lead.
“Yes, thank you. It was very nice meeting you,” Malaysia said.
Lynette looked disappointed that her guests were leaving so soon. “Oh, well, you’re most welcome,” she said, standing slowly. “You have a unique accent,” Lynette said to Malaysia. “Are you Dutch?” she asked.
“Swiss,” Malaysia said.
“It is very pretty, hearing you talk,” Lynette said.
“Thank you very much, Lynette.”
Blain led the way out, having to unlock the barred screen door that Lynette had locked behind them when they came in. You can never be too safe, I guess, Blain thought.
“Have a nice day,” Lynette offered as the two walked along the side of her car parked in the carport.
“You too,” Blain said with a wave.
As Blain started the Camaro, he noticed a few drapes being pulled to the side in several of the trailers across the street. Several faces could be spotted peering out. Stranger-danger, Blain thought to himself.
“Interesting lady,” Blain said quietly, as he put the car into gear.
“What are you thinking, Blain?” Malaysia asked.
Blain looked at her. “Thinking?” He smiled at her. “I’m thinking how much I’m looking forward to seeing you in your new bathing suit!”
Malaysia playfully slapped him on the arm.
After Blain pulled away from the curb, another drape was pulled to the side. Lynette Collins closely watched out her window as the black car pulled away from the curb. After they had left, Lynette looked down at a very old picture of three young people, standing together in front of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle at Disneyland. She put her hand on the glass, thinking.
“Nate, Nate, Nate,” Lynette said. She picked up her telephone.
CHAPTER 31
Sun Day
Tuesday, June 29th, 2010
12:17pm
Blain drove down to Newport Beach, a short twenty-minute drive from where Lynette lived. However, it was a striking change in scenery from the area she lived and the area that they now found themselves. He found 36th Street and drove around Lido Bay, locating a parking spot not far from the beach. Malaysia loved looking at all the different architecture in the area: the low-slung homes that had been there since the early 50’s and the new three-level homes that were on narrow lots where some of the walls of one home seemed to be only inches apart from the next.
Malaysia was excited to see the beach, a beach…any beach. After parallel-parking his Camero in a tight spot along the one-way stree
t, Blain popped open the trunk using a switch inside the glove compartment and walked to the back of his car. Reaching in the open trunk, Blain took out her bag and two additional narrow bags with folding chairs and his own towel. As he handed Malaysia her bag she had brought, she asked if he came to the beach often.
“When I was younger, in high school, a bunch of us would come down here to 36th Street after school when the weather got hot enough,” Blain said. “Jimmy, a guy that used to live near me, had an aunt and uncle who lived right down there,” Blain said, pointing up the street away from the beach.
“That must have been so cool,” Malaysia said. She had never been to a beach. Belp was landlocked in the middle of Switzerland, and even the summers were usually too mild to even consider a beach holiday.
“I think we took it all for granted,” Blain said, closing the trunk. “Sort of like Disneyland. When you live so close to something like that, you don’t think of it as others might.”
“I think it’s the same thing with the Alps, where I live,” Malaysia said. “We grew up never giving the Alps a second thought.”
“Someday, you will need to show me the Alps,” Blain said, half jokingly…knowing the chance of that happening was miniscule.
Blain led Malaysia across Balboa Boulevard, holding her hand as they crossed the busy street at the crosswalk.
“I think that’s why I enjoyed taking you to Disneyland on Sunday,” Blain said as they made it safely across the street. “I get to enjoy the Park vicariously through your enjoyment of seeing parts of it for the first time.”
“That makes total sense,” Malaysia said, agreeing. “I would love to show you the Alps too,” she added, and then pulled up to a dead stop as they emerged from between the houses at the end of the street where the vast panorama of beach and ocean was revealed to Malaysia for the first time.