The Summer Of 1980

Sunday afternoon I indulged myself by taking a nostalgic trip back to my first summer in Houston, Texas. Knowing for months that Six Flags AstroWorld would be closing its gates for good at the end of October, I decided to revisit the place where I began my career in Texas tourism 25-years-ago. I just wanted to take a few photos, revisit old feelings, and spend a couple of hours among memories from a time before kids, 60-hour work weeks and a gray mustache. As I crossed the pedestrian bridge from the parking lot to the park I remembered how much I truly enjoyed working in Public Relations at AstroWorld during the summer of 1980. I thought of people such as Gary Dalton, Alicia Smith, and Sarah Hampton, who enjoyed each other so much that after a day on the job they would go out together for fun. They were more than co-workers. They were a family. Once through the gate I noticed that Main Street had changed very little. Merchandise shops on the left and a confectionery shop and soda shop on the right. The old Mrs. Baird's bread store with it's miniature loaves of hot, sweet smelling bread had been replaced by some souvenir stand. The spot where radio controlled boats had once cruised was now a mucky pool attached to a larger mucky pond. Coney Island looked the same and the clank-clank-clank of the giant wooden roller coaster, The Texas Cyclone, was unmistakably familiar. Oh, how I used to love climbing beneath the tracks for spectacular photos of the cars racing down toward me at break-neck speed. But not today. That was 25-years ago. The carousel with its brightly painted animals of various shapes and colors was still there and the Alpine Village was just as I remembered with its clock tower chiming the hour. As I stopped to shoot a photo of the giant loop in the coaster Greased Lightning, I realized that I had taken the exact shot from the same position during the summer of '80 as part of a media piece that I would be writing for distribution in Louisiana. It gave me goosebumps. I struck up a conversation with the engineers on the old Cannonball locomotive and they gave me a special ex-employee ride on the rails around the park, allowing me to photograph the driver's compartment, while sharing stories from the train's 40-year history at the park. Every one of the rides from my era that I visited that day knew that I had come to say goodbye as I touched a rail, snapped one last shot, or simply paused to watch the guests enjoying the final days fun at this Houston landmark. My visit was an act of closure and I'm glad that I made the effort. Now that it's done I can look back with renewed memories of how it was to have been a part of that family . . . the AstroWorld family and a legacy that will be remembered fondly for many years to come.