My Giant Dipper Story, 1964

In the summer of 1964, I turned 7 years old. I also celebrated my First Holy Communion. My mother wanted impress upon me how special this event was. She scheduled a family trip to The Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk to commemorate and memorialize my spiritual accomplishment. She was successful in cementing it in my memory forever! Although, as a child raised in the Bay Area I would return to the Boardwalk many times throughout my lifetime, I will always remember that momentous first occasion. I remember that my grandmother came with us, that was unusual, but she was the spiritual head of our family and she was there. As a middle child, I was not used to being the center of attention. I was the quiet, observant little girl. My older brother was the wild, imposing, adventurous child and my younger sister was the budding baby of the family. I secretly idolized my older brother and wanted to be more outgoing like him, but that wasn’t me. My brother was so excited and wanted to lead us straight to the Giant Dipper. My mother was doing her best to empower me and to keep the focus of attention on me, not my brother. It felt good to be the one in the spotlight, but it also felt intimidating. I would be the one determining our agenda for the day. Yikes! The power was amazing. In the end, not knowing what else to do, I made the decision to go to this Giant Dipper that my ohh so knowledgeable brother was dying to experience. My sister was too little to ride and would wait with my grandmother. My brother was going to sit with my father and I would be seated next to my mother. As we wound our way up to the front of the line, seeing the great expanse of the wooden rollercoaster, I began to doubt my judgement. Maybe I could just watch my brother, I wasn’t sure it was necessary for me to actually take this adventure. But with my mother’s encouragement, my excitement built. This was going to be so spectacular. My pulse quickened as we stepped into the car of the Giant. The attendant pulled the seatbelt tight and we began the slow climb to the top of the world. You could see the majestic ocean and it appeared the people on the Boardwalk were shrinking. At the moment we hit the summit of that first hill, I looked over at my mother and said, “I want to get off”. With no time to give me a reply, my mother just held me tight. We sped up and down taking curves with breathtaking speed. I thought I would fly right out of the Dipper. But, miraculously, I was next to my mother as we came to a sudden halt. I looked at my mother and said, “I want to go again!” The moment was seared into my brain and is one of the most cherished memories of my childhood.