Long before Hollywood screenwriters ever crafted the personality of Clark Griswold, there was another father with a penchant for long family vacations with attendant misadventures. His name was Larry Keenan.
And so when Worlds of Fun opened for business in May 1973, it was just four months later when dad piled mother Ramona and me and my siblings, Kathy, Tim, Marty and Beth in the Chrysler station wagon and hit the gas pedal to see what Disneyland East had to offer.
This trip included shouting, arguments and threats of spanking. And we were still idling in the driveway. We had a blast. And the anticipation for WOF reached a zenith when, after arriving at the world’s largest expanse of asphalt, we noticed something was driving our way. It was a shuttle! We flipped out. “They pick you up!” my kid brother shrieked. Like a big city hay rack ride.
Collect memories, not things, they say. On this trip, we did both.
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| Freelance columnist Matthew Keenan writes on the first and third Wednesday of the month. His book “Call Me Dad, Not Dude, the sequel” is sold at Barnes & Noble and Amazon. Visit his blog at matthewkeenan .com or e-mail him at mattkeenan51 @gmail.com.