A tale of two women (and one theme park)

Try as I might to tap into early onset millennial nostalgia, I just don’t understand the passion behind the #SaveThunderRoad petition. My first ride on Thunder Road is memorable only in that the safety bar didn’t come down low enough to properly restrain me while my 57-pound, eight-year-old body was thrown around the cart as it hurtled along the wooden track and jerked around the corners. No, I wasn’t in actual danger, but it wasn’t a comfortable or enjoyable ride either. Good riddance.

In an attempt to understand the diehard fans making headlines, I turned to my mom – a Carowinds employee from 1977-84. Who better to explain the love people so obviously feel for this theme park?

Carowinds | 1977

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the summer of 1977.

I have a hard time imagining 1977, and an even harder time imagining my mom in 1977. Hair was feathered, pants were flared and my mom was starting her first job at Carowinds.

Located just inside the main entrance, near what’s now Rip Roaring Rapids, 16-year-old Debbie Whisnant (now Boone) spent 50ish hours a week making deli sandwiches for hungry park visitors. At least, that’s what her job description said. As we sat on the couch flipping through photos of kitchen pranks and co-workers, I wondered aloud, “When did you actually work?” Laughing, she said, “We didn’t.”

Thunder Road opened in 1976, the year before she started working at the park. She remembers walking past lines for the ride and standing in lines, but she isn’t sad to see it go. It’s all in the name of progress.

In fact, the ride she remembers most isn’t the one people are fighting to keep; it’s one that’s already gone. White Lightnin’ (which looks kind of like Carolina Cobra, but only looped riders once) opened the summer of ’77 to a large media push. The park invested in a commercial around the new attraction and Debbie volunteered to be a featured rider. Paying nothing but a free lunch, the gig involved riding and looking enthusiastic for hours on end. The commercial and White Lightnin’ are both lost to time and South Africa. Well, the coaster is anyway. They shipped it off to Gold Reef City just 11 years later.

I can’t wrap my mind around this person who rode the same ride for hours on end with the mom I know now. The one who gets sick on roller coasters and instead always holds all the backpacks, sunglasses and cellphones that came with our brood.

When I attended my first concert (Aaron Carter in 2001 #judgeme), I assumed it was the first time my mom had entered the Carowinds Paladium, or seen a pop show for that matter. Imagine my recent surprise when she pulled out photos of the Beach Boys taken from the Paladium front row. With a ridiculous amount of prodding, she told me about watching Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons rehearse the night before their show. Can you imagine Frankie filling an empty amphitheater with the question “Who loves you, pretty baby” for my mom and five friends?

As time went on, my mom graduated from food services to rides, shows, switchboard operator and eventually personnel (her favorite job because it included air conditioning). Seven years, two degrees and one husband later, Debbie closed the page on her Carowinds chapter.

Getting to the point

When I asked the former Miss Whisnant to reflect on her tenure at the park, she describes the time of her life. When I think about Carowinds, all that comes to mind are long lines and a day full of no place to sit.

While I don’t mind going to the park once or twice a year, I’ll never feel or understand my mom’s nostalgic glow around time spent there. However, when I asked her what she liked best about Carowinds, we found some surprising common ground.

We both respect the park’s tenacity. It’s the local park that could.

Unlike Tweetsie Railroad, Ghost Town in the Sky or Santa Land (yes, I’ve been to all three and yes, they’re all in North Carolina), Carowinds has continued to develop and stay relevant in the theme park world of highest, fastest and most obnoxious. With juggernauts like Disney, Six Flags and Universal, that’s a real feat.

While critics may place this in a larger debate about Charlotte’s lack of respect for history in the face of progress, I’m giving Carowinds a free pass. Giga-coasters are the future and wooden roller coasters are a novelty for smaller parks that rely on hokey nostalgia to limp along.

If Carowinds lover and alumna Debbie Whisnant Boone can let go of Thunder Road, so can you. But don’t you dare touch the Carolina Goldrusher. Got that, Carowinds?

P.S. Enjoy this groovy Carowinds yearbook entry written in ‘70s slang to my mom. Yes, Carowinds had an annual.

All photos are courtesy of Debbie Boone and the Carowinds Encounters 1978 yearbook.