Here's the text:
Code Orange at
Disneyland
By ANDRÉS MARTINEZ
ANAHEIM, Calif.
Having security guards search through visitors' belongings at the entrance to his beloved park could not have been part of Walt Disney's idea of a "big, big beautiful tomorrow" when he opened Disneyland in 1955. But ever since the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, that's become as much a part of the Disney experience as standing in line for the Pirates of the Caribbean. And after Tom Ridge decreed a heightened state of alert (Code Orange) last week, Disney's security was ratcheted up even further.
Just as the World Trade Center was an international symbol of American commerce, Disney's twin resorts in California and Florida are iconic monuments to American leisure. The idea that they may become a target has therefore been bandied about ever since Sept. 11, and attendance at the parks serves as a proxy index of Americans' confidence in their own security.
The parks were deserted in the aftermath of the attacks. But lately, without yet reaching their former levels, the number of visitors had been picking up. Disney was especially heartened to see the number of foreign visitors spike significantly late last year.
Now there are worries that talk of war with Iraq will trigger a "double dip" in attendance figures. The last gulf war proved devastating to the travel industry, and the specter of a rerun, combined with a more palpable fear of terrorist retaliations, has everyone from the airlines to Las Vegas casino operators worried sick. Disney is already seeing weaker advance bookings.
Inside the park, mentioning terrorism seems mean, and almost impolite, in a world so determinedly dedicated to innocent escapism and perfect order. One of the attendants at the entrance to the Haunted Mansion gave me a blank stare when I asked about the real-life horrors possibly lurking behind that Code Orange. "I thought the air was cleaner now, and that we didn't have to worry about that ozone stuff anymore," he said.
An utterly unscientific poll of 11 groups of visitors showed that all but two were aware of the federal government's call for stepped-up vigilance, although not everyone got the colors straight. The two families that had missed the news were Japanese. "Should we go home now?" one man inquired.
As he enjoyed the fireworks show in Fantasyland, Will Fletcher of Houston said he wouldn't let the Code Orange news curtail his fun, though he does try now to be more perceptive of his surroundings. "As we were driving up," he said, "we were talking about how this is the perfect place to forget all your troubles, but then I had this chilling realization that that's one reason it would be an ideal target for someone intent on wreaking total havoc."
Yet he came, as well he should. It isn't just, as statisticians are quick to point out, that travel is almost always safer than your daily routine, even factoring in the possibility of an attack. Average citizens who have never found a specific mission in the war against terrorism can show their solidarity only by embracing the ordinary. The most intolerable form of havoc would be a nation paralyzed by fear, one in which there are no lines to ride the Pirates of the Caribbean.