Episode 4: What a Carousel Can Teach Us About the Power of Inclusion

Welcome to the Carousel of Happiness Podcast. On today's episode, we learn how a 1910 Charles Looff-designed carousel frame makes its way to Nederland from Salt Lake City. And, with it, a legacy of inclusion that has an impact on those who visit to this day.

The Carousel of Happiness is a nonprofit arts & culture organization dedicated to inspiring happiness, well-being, and service to others through stories and experiences.

If you enjoy the podcast, please consider visiting the Carousel of Happiness online (https://carouselofhappiness.org/), on social media (https://www.facebook.com/carouselofhappiness), or in real life; or consider donating (https://carouselofhappiness.app.neoncrm.com/forms/general-donation) to keep the carousel and its message alive and spinning 'round and 'round.

If you have a story to share, please reach out to Allie Wagner at outreach@carouselofhappiness.org

Special thanks to songwriter, performer, and friend of the carousel, Darryl Purpose (https://darrylpurpose.com/), for sharing his song, "Next Time Around," as our theme song.

Transcript

Welcome to the Carousel of Happiness Podcast. I’m your host, Allie Wagner. 

On our last couple of episodes, we explored the human element of the Carousel of Happiness. How visitors and employees alike seem to be drawn to us somehow. Called here. We followed carousel creator and carver, Scott Harrison, on the battlefield in Vietnam, as he received the very first call to the carousel. With the help of a music box, in between firefights, he found refuge and solace in an image in his mind’s eye, one that seemingly came out of nowhere. A carousel in a mountain meadow. And this image, this gift from somewhere, allowed him to cope with the chaos and destruction around him.

Then, we explored the idea of the relationship between dark and light within the human experience. How they are related, and what dark nights of the soul can teach us, if we are open to their lessons. We heard about a moment for Scott, after struggling to reintegrate into civilian life and sailing away on a boat into the Pacific, when he found himself in the company of a very curious and kind whale.

And, lastly, we learned about how animals can support the healing of human beings. From the curious whale in the Pacific to the first animal Scott carved, Rabbit the First, we learned how animals are uniquely positioned to support our healing, sometimes when humans fail. 

And, for the next 26 years, Scott would carve animal after animal after animal. After rabbit, came giraffe, followed by cat and panda soon after. Slowly gathering animals, one by one, and storing them wherever he could. In the garage, in the spare bedroom, downstairs. Local kids remember visiting the Harrisons house during this time and there being gorillas and cheetahs and kangaroos everywhere you looked.

But these animals didn’t – as of yet – have a place to go. There was no carousel to put them on. Not, at least, until 1986.

And, that is what today’s show is about. The life of the carousel mechanism that would eventually spin these creatures round and round and round. And how that previous life impacts the experience of riders to this day, even if they don’t realize it.

Welcome, dear listener, to the Carousel of Happiness Podcast. Let us begin with today’s story.

GONG

Long before Scott went to Vietnam or moved to Nederland, Danish immigrant, 18-year-old Charles Looff, moved to the United States in 1870. While living in Brooklyn, he worked as a furniture carver and ballroom dance instructor. After work, just like Scott would do later in Nederland, Charles Looff began carving carousel animals in his spare time at night. After a long day of work at the furniture factory, he would take scraps of wood home, and tinker with the craft of carving carousel animals.

Now, at this time, at the turn of the century, carousels were hugely popular. Thanks to the Industrial Revolution, more people were moving to the cities from rural areas, and amusement parks became big business. And carousels were a key part of that business. 

Six years after moving to the United States, Charles Looff would install his first carousel on Coney Island. Looff would become a prolific creator of carousels, creating over 50 throughout the country. Today, several of his carousels have been restored, including one in Crescent Park in Rhode Island; one at the Natatorium Park in Spokane, Washington; and one on the boardwalk in Santa Cruz, California. 

And, as we will soon see, one of his creations would end up being the mechanism for the Carousel of Happiness in Nederland.

So, the carousel mechanism that would later join our animals in Nederland, began its life at Saltair Park in Salt Lake City, Utah in 1918. First owned by the Mormon Church, Saltair was built on the banks of the Great Salt Lake. At the time, visitors would take the train to the park for the day and enjoy bathing in the lake, as well as playing at the amusement park. Which had shooting galleries, a fun house, bumper cars (or dodg’ems, as they were known at the time), bowling alleys, a roller skating rink, a roller coaster, and a carousel.

And the Looff-designed carousel would spin at Saltair until from 1918 to 1958. While there, it would survive two fires, the Great Depression, and a windstorm, all of which threatened to close the park at different times. But a windstorm on August 30, 1957 proved to be too much for Saltair Park, and ultimately the carousel. As the 75-mile-per-hour winds blew through the park, the massive roller coaster toppled, falling on top of the carousel. And this cumulative damage to the park was just too much. Park owners filed for bankruptcy, and it closed its doors within the next two years. The park’s contents, including the carousel, were handed over to the State of Utah and put into storage, leading to its next phase of life.

During much of the 20th century, if a family had a child who had a developmental disability of some kind, it was often recommended that that child be sent to a home for people with similar disabilities, and many of these children would remain in those institutions throughout their lives.

In Utah, at the time, the primary state institution of this kind was called the Utah State Training School, located in American Fork. It was founded in the 30s, and grew in numbers from 232 students in 1930 to 644 students in 1952.

In 1952, Dr. Vernon Houston, a physician and educator, became the director of the Utah State Training School. Under his leadership, the school developed a campus-wide recreation program, which included dances, outings, and other sports. 

According to Dr. Houston, leisure activity was instrumental in the happiness and growth of the students in American Fork. And, as such, he created what was later called Fairyland Park. On a four-to-five acre grassy section of the school’s campus, the school gathered a miniature train, as well figures from fairytales, like a giant pied piper, a castle, grandmother’s house from little red riding hood, and the giant shoe from Old Mother Hubbard, to name a few. Also gathered on this grassy lawn – the carousel from Saltair park, which was donated to the school by the state of Utah.

And throughout its time at the Utah State Training School, the carousel remained one of the most beloved attractions at the school. Bringing joy and happiness to thousands upon thousands of children and adults with developmental disabilities for the next 26 years.

But because the carousel sat outside at Fairyland, it began to experience significant damage as a result of its exposure to the elements. In 1986, after several attempts to repair the animals and maintain the carousel mechanism, it finally came down. Dr. Houston had died the year before, and with him, Fairyland slowly started to fade away. In 1986, the carousel was sold to a collector named Charlotte Dinger.

Now, around this time, in 1985, Scott and his daughter, Colleen, attended the National Carousel Conference. At this point, Scott has some carved animals under his belt and is beginning to think about how to put this whole thing together. But, Scott didn’t have much money at the time. So, he attended the conference to network and let everyone know he was in the market for a  “broken down” carousel. 

At that conference, in what felt like a passing encounter, Scott happened to meet a man who drove an 18-wheeler for Charlotte Dinger. Scott told him about his desire for a carousel just like everyone else, but he didn’t think much of it. 

Until, one year later, when Scott received a call from this man.

He told Scott that he was out in American Fork picking up a carousel for Charlotte, and she only wanted to keep the animals. She was not interested in the frame and the motor, and intended to get rid of them. But, the man remembered Scott from the conference and gave him a call. If Scott wanted to pay $2,000, she would give him the carousel frame and mechanism.

Deal. 

Scott rented a Uhaul, drove out to Utah, threw the bits and pieces into the truck, and drove back to Nederland. The details would have to wait until later. According to Scott, this was his opportunity to have a carousel, and that’s all that mattered. He would figure the rest out later.

So, he stashed away the carousel in bits and pieces – under his deck and in his backyard – and continued to carve animals. He figured the rest would work itself out when he was ready.

One of the legacies of the carousel frame for the Carousel of Happiness originates from its time in American Fork. To honor the frame’s previous life bringing joy and happiness to people with developmental disabilities, Scott wanted to ensure that the Carousel of Happiness was accessible to everyone who wished to ride it. 

So, he carved a wide variety of seating to accommodate as many people as possible. If you’re in a wheelchair, the gorilla is ready to sit right next to you. If you want to go up and down, like most traditional carousels, we have many animals to choose from. If you’re not so keen on the up and down, for whatever reason, you can hop on the lion or the giraffe, who sits still. For riders who don’t want to climb on an animal at all, we have benches that look like swans for you to sit in or a dragon boat for your choosing. And, for those tiny kiddos who aren’t quite sure about those bigger, scarier animals, we’ve got the littlest of fish, standing at about a foot and a half tall with your name on it. 

Not to mention, we’ve got headphones for those sensitive to sound, we have discounted tickets for families in need. Each and every day we do our best to make this place accessible and safe for everyone.

And this brings me to an important point that came up during my discussion with Philip Tedeschi from the Institute for Human and Animal Connection at the Denver University School of Social Work. Remember, I talked to him about Scott’s experience with the whale and how we could understand how carving the animals played a role in Scott’s recovery from trauma.

And, even though it was outside the scope of our discussion, I couldn’t help but ask him this question.

Sometimes, when people enter the Carousel of Happiness, something unusual happens. Most people come in, grab a ticket, and hop on a ride. All is well, and everything seems normal. But with others, we have seen folks come in and, all of a sudden, seemingly without prompting, they’ll burst into tears, and get very, very emotional. 

And this can take people by surprise. They’re not exactly sure what’s happening and we’ll see them maybe try to hide the tears or perhaps turn away. Because, for the most part, we don’t regularly walk around in public and find ourselves overcome with emotion. But it happens here quite frequently. And I wanted to ask Philip why. What is going on? 

And he told me about neuroception. Neuroception describes the phenomenon of how our bodies are constantly scanning our environment for cues of safety or danger. And this scanning of the environment largely happens underneath our conscious awareness. We are not aware we’re doing it. And the body collects all sorts of information and data, and sends that information to the brain to later make sense out of it. 

So, when someone enters the Carousel of Happiness and gets emotional it is because their body is registering the place as a safe space. And, before the brain can catch up, they allow themselves to release some pent up emotions they were unaware they had.

After I asked him this question, Philip asked me one. He asked me if people tend to linger in the carousel. Do they sort of hang out without any reason? Do they tend to start sharing personal information about their lives?

Yes! 100% yes. This is something we experience at the Carousel of Happiness quite regularly. People don’t want to leave. They don’t want to leave, and they want to talk. Usually about things and people they haven’t thought about in years.

According to Philip, this is an indication that they have altered their neurobiology as a result of walking through the door and experiencing a safe space. They now feel safe to share stories with people they might not know, because their bodies have told them it’s safe to do so.

How cool is that?

And I think that’s one of the lasting impacts of this particular frame coming from American Fork, and Scott’s commitment to its legacy of inclusion. Whether or not we are in a wheelchair, we all recognize this place as a safe space. Our bodies know all are welcome here and that we all belong. 

So, if you find yourself at the Carousel of Happiness overwhelmed by emotions, you can trust that your body is allowing itself to release some excess energy. Energy it has been holding on to because, up until the moment you walked through our door, there didn’t seem to be a good place to let it out.

Have you experienced the Carousel of Happiness in this way? If you’re following along with the podcast and have something to share, I’d love to hear it. DM us on social media or send me an email directly at outreach@carouselofhappiness.org. You can find the link in the show notes. Or you can click the link in the show notes that says “Leave us A message” and you can send us a voicemail. Directly from your phone.

Or, perhaps, the podcast has left you feeling curious about the carousel. Maybe you want to experience the magic yourself. Come on by. We’re open Thursday - Monday during the winter. Last ride is always at 4:45. 

Next week, we’ll talk about Nederland. How a quirky mountain town of around 1,200 residents managed to raise $700,000 to keep this carousel in their backyard. What makes this town so unique? How is Nederland the perfect place for a Carousel of Happiness?

In the meantime, take care. Be well. And, as we like to say at the Carousel of Happiness, “don’t delay joy.” And we’ll see you next time around.