The Magic Kingdom: Walt Disney and the American Way of Life

Epilogue

Epilogue IT ALL HAPPENED so quickly. When news of Walt Disney's death on December 15, 1966, swept through the Burbank studio and Disneyland like a shock wave, his associates reacted with surprise, grief, and anxiety for the future. Stricken, some cried out "No!" while others wept quietly. Hardly anyone, even in Walt's family, had expected his death. On New Year's Day 1966 he had served as grand marshal of the Tournament of Roses Parade in Pasadena. Throughout the spring and summer he had flown all over the United States to inspect shopping centers, rapid transit systems, or giant trash-composting equipment that might be adapted for the fledgling Florida Project. In fact, he had spent several draining days in late October shooting a half-hour promotional film that explained that undertaking to the public. But now the man who had built a leisure empire and directed its every move was gone. Walt had been complaining for years about a series of nagging health problems. By the mid-1960s, his notorious cough had grown worse, becoming more persistent and hacking. He also complained of intense, intermittent neck pains which streaked down into his back and leg, a condition that doctors attributed to an old polo injury. A sinus condition flared up regularly , colds became a steady affliction, and bouts of mysterious, intense facial pain seemed to come out of nowhere. The legendary Disney energy also waned, and the studio chief began showing signs of wear and tear - a slower gait, graying hair, a raspy voice, and a deeply lined face. In search of relief from pain some years before, he had begun late-afternoon therapy sessions with Hazel George, the studio nurse, who joked irreverently with him while applying hot packs and administering soothing shoulder and neck treatments. He always had been an enthusiastic social drinker, but now he began upping his late-afternoon intake of scotch to blunt the physical Epilogue I 447 discomfort. A few colleagues suspected a more serious health problem when, at a mid-September press conference in the Sierra Nevadas, he grew pale and exhausted and nearly collapsed.! But few expected the rapid sequence of events that unfolded at the end of 1966. In July, pain had led Walt to the UCLA medical center, where tests and x-rays revealed calcification in the neck area. He agreed to an operation sometime after the end of the year. In early November he entered St. Joseph's Hospital, where more tests revealed a growth on one of his lungs. He underwent exploratory surgery on November 7, during which his left, cancerous lung was removed. The situation was diagnosed as very grim. Doctors informed his stunned family that he had six months to two years to live. He seemed to recover from the operation, however, and a couple of weeks later returned to the studio, where he assured colleagues that he would soon be back at the helm. After Thanksgiving he grew weaker, though, and he returned to St. Joseph's on November 30. On the evening of December 14, he reassured Lillian about his prospects by hugging her with renewed strength, and then discussed the Florida Project with Roy, using the foot-square ceiling tiles above his bed to plot his plans for the various amusement rides, industrial parks, and housing complexes. In the early morning hours, his physical condition deteriorated rapidly, and he died around 9:30 A.M. from acute circulatory collapse.2 The studio, concerned about the financial impact, withheld announcement of the death until the next day, at which point his body already had been cremated and interred at Forest Lawn Cemetery during a secret family ceremony. In an official statement, Roy Disney, the company's president and chairman of the board, assured stockholders and the public that Walt had "built an organization with the creative talents to carryon as he had established and directed it through the years. Today this organization has been built and we will carry out this wish." But the secrecy and quickness of the burial, along with the delayed announcement, gave birth to a wild rumor. Walt's supposed interest in cryogenesis prompted speculation that his body had been frozen and stored in a lab somewhere to be revived later. There was no truth to this story. Much more striking was the enormous outpouring of grief and love that came from every corner of the United States, and indeed from all over the globe.3 Over...