By Holly Fertsch
As a local, I grew up visiting Gillian’s Wonderland Pier. My brother even had a birthday party there when we were kids. The sounds of laughter, the thrill of the rides, and the smell of funnel cake made it a childhood utopia. I loved racing my twin sister through the obstacle course and feeling like I was flying on the swings. Going to Wonderland was always a magical experience.
When I later worked at Wonderland, it felt very much like someone had pulled back the curtain in “The Wizard of Oz”. It was a disillusioning experience. Though in hindsight (a decade later), I look back fondly on my memories of working in the amusement park.
When I was hired at Gillian’s Wonderland Pier, it was my first job in which I had a supervisor. Training started by having us read stories of fatalities at amusement parks. Our supervisor told us repeatedly that paying attention to the ride could be the difference between life and death. It was then that I realized this might not be the easy summer work that I’d imagined.
We were told that our supervisors may even hire people to spy on us. While it was probably a bluff, I worried that my supervisors were sending their family and friends on my ride.
Later, whenever people asked me to let them ride for free (which happened often), I smiled and directed them to guest services, which was my polite way of saying no. It wasn’t that I didn’t sympathize; I know ride tickets can get expensive. But I was paranoid that this was secretly a test. I got yelled at by quite a few angry families because of this.
One father became irate after I explained that his son was not tall enough to ride. He retorted, “And you are? What are you, 12?”
Granted, I have always been short and looked younger than I actually am. But I still blushed as I said, “Touche, sir, but your son still can’t go on this ride.”
While I had once looked at Wonderland through rose-colored lenses, I began to associate the amusement park with stress. From saving a kid from drowning after he jumped out of a boat while the ride was in motion to getting heat exhaustion operating the pirate ship, I realized how much hard work happened behind the scenes of the magical veneer.
That is not to say the magic was completely gone, however. Instead, I began to see the magic of Gillian’s Wonderland Pier in the eyes of excited children and in my own elation whenever I got to go on the rides.
There also were still many parts of the job that I enjoyed. After all, how many people get paid to slide down a giant slide and climb through obstacle courses?
When operating Super Fun Slide, the massive slide with multiple lanes, I had to space out the riders so they didn’t crash. To keep things fun, I started saying “go” in silly voices or asking guests who they thought would go down the slide the fastest. Every time a kid giggled or teenagers laughed as they fought for the fastest time, I remembered how privileged I was to work in such a wonderful place.
When it was time for my break, I had to slide down the Super Fun Slide since it would have messed up the line to go down the stairs. So I got to slide down the ride at least twice during each shift on it. It was a teenage girl’s dream job.
Despite the allure of the appropriately-named Super Fun Slide, my favorite ride to work was Raiders by far. It was a fun house/obstacle course with an “Indiana Jones” vibe. It involved pushing aside heavy punching bags, clambering up cargo nets, weaving through poles, bouncing on an inflatable platform, crossing a series of rope bridges, then going down a massive slide to exit the ride.
Many kids got tangled in that cargo net, giving me an excuse to run through the course as fast as I could to go and free them. Their parents would thank me profusely, but I secretly relished each opportunity to demonstrate how fast I could zip through the course. While other teenagers sat at home watching “American Ninja Warrior” or parkour videos on Youtube, I was getting paid to climb things and run through obstacle courses.
Sometimes, small children would get scared on Raiders and freeze up, especially before crossing the rope bridges. I would take their hands and lead them through the course. I rediscovered the magic of Wonderland in their ability to trust me to get them out safely and in their smiles when they reached the slide.
Despite all the challenges, working at Gillian’s Wonderland Pier will always be a formative chapter in my life — one that gave me a glimpse behind the curtain and left me with memories I’ll always treasure.
