Post by musicradio77 on Dec 18, 2005 14:07:35 GMT -5
I forgot to post it since Thursday that it was the 39th anniversary of the death of Walt Disney. Yes, Walt was a true icon. Here's what happened during his final years of his life from Walt's Family Museum site:
In July 1966, Walt and his whole family -- Lilly, Diane, Ron, Sharon, Bob, and all their children (including baby Victoria) -- took a memorable trip through the waters of British Columbia on a 140-foot yacht. During that time, he and Lilly celebrated their 41st wedding anniversary.
A large craft by any means, the yacht wasn't huge for six adults and seven children. But according to Diane, "The kids playing all around him didn't bother him. They were climbing all over him, and he seemed to really like that. It was a beautiful, wonderful trip. We loved it." "The Vancouver trip was wonderful," echoes Tamara, who was nine at the time. "I didn't realize at the time that he was sick. I remember him finding an eagle's feather and giving it to me. He'd just listen and observe. Knowing he didn't feel good, now it makes sense. He was the guy sitting on the boat with the camera." When Walt would grow weary, he'd retire to the upper deck of the yacht and read. Diane recalls there were two books he was focused on; one dealt with the task of choosing a college president (he was very involved in Cal-Arts at the time) and the other was a book about city planning, which he was reading for inspiration for EPCOT.
On July 24, Walt checked into UCLA Medical Center, where tests showed that he would need an operation to help relieve the pain in his neck. But he decided to wait for a while. In mid-September, Walt attended a press conference for Mineral King -- his proposed resort near Sequoia National Park. It was a gray, cold day, and Walt didn't seem well. A public relations man explained that he had simply been affected by the altitude and cold. But even a quick glance at photos taken that day show that Walt's face had aged noticeably in the year; more than the cold was ailing him. It was to be his last press conference.
In early October, Walt made a film to promote EPCOT. Shortly after the film was made, he checked into St. Joseph's Hospital. It's almost certain that he learned he had lung cancer while there. But he said not a word to his family. Later that month, he traveled to Williamsburg with Lilly, Sharon, and son-in-law Bob Brown to receive an award from the American Forestry Association. Diane and her family were invited but "we said we couldn't go. It was Halloween. The kids loved Halloween and they wouldn't miss it for anything -- not even to go to Williamsburg with Grandpa. It seems shortsighted now." "We were there for three days," recalled Sharon. "We ate and ate and talked and talked. Daddy was a good tourist. He had been back there before, so he was showing it to these two newcomers who had never been there. And he went through everything! On Halloween, the leaves were all dropping deep into the streets. There was no one around, and it was raining. One little boy came to the door for trick-or-treat. We hadn't even thought about it. It was the most awful feeling of not having anything. And I remember Daddy going from room to room trying to find a pack of gum, and he finally found something upstairs in his room; a pack of gum for this little boy. It bothered him."
On November 2, doctors told Walt that he would need surgery to remove a cancerous spot on his left lung. He ran into Peter Ellenshaw and pooh-poohed the artist's concerns. "There's no problem," Walt said. "My God," thought Ellenshaw. "My great man is going to die." The next Monday, after the operation, the surgeon reported that Walt's left lung had been removed. Lilly, Diane, and Sharon had waited for the surgeon's report -- they had no idea of the news they were about to hear. "It was as I suspected," the doctor told them. "I'd give him six months to two years." Walt spent about two weeks in the hospital, and then insisted it was time to get back to work. Secretary Tommie Wilck picked him up and brought him to the studio. "I only saw him from a distance when he was released from the hospital and came back to the studio," said Ward Kimball. "I didn't see him up close. As an artist you go by the outward shape . . . or how a person walks. He looked awfully old and bent over. . . . People who saw him up close hardly recognized him."
He had lunch with John Hench and a few others and told them about the cancer. He asked them about their current projects and then returned with them to the WED offices. "When he got over there, his voice took on enthusiasm and deepened," said Hench. "We had a few laughs and went over a few things. . . . We went over the Moon Ride. We had a full-scale mock-up of a space center control room, with which he checked out the viewing angles from public areas. He was interested in seeing how the ideas suggested at the last meeting had worked out. And he came over to see the pirate ride mock-up." Walt then walked over to artist Marc Davis' office, where he chuckled at sketches of bears that Davis was preparing for Mineral King. Davis commented on how much weight Walt had lost, "He looked at me with big, sad eyes," recalls Davis, "and God, I could have bitten my tongue off." When he left, "I stayed at the door," the artist remembered, "and watched him walk down the hall. He was, I guess, about 50 feet away. He turned and said, 'Good-bye Marc.' He never said good-bye. It was always 'See ya later.'"
Walt told everyone at the studio and WED that with the removal of the one lung he was practically good as new. But rumors flew. He was back at the studio the next couple of days, visiting the set of "Blackbeard's Ghost." The next day was Thanksgiving, which Walt and Lilly celebrated with the Miller family. "We were sitting there," Diane recalled, "and that's when I brought him a drink and a little dish. And he said, 'I don't smoke, kid. But they're still not sure that smoking causes lung cancer.' He couldn't admit that maybe it did. I had gotten on his back the last five years of his life about smoking. I said, 'You've got to stop it, Daddy. You've got to cut it out. At least smoke filter tips. He'd say, 'Knock it off, kid.'"
After a one-night stay in Palm Springs, he was back in the hospital on November 30. From there, his health failed far more rapidly than the doctors, or his family, had anticipated. "I trusted the doctors," said Lilly. "I really didn't know he was going to go. Neither did he. We had a trip planned for him to recover." The last days of his life Walt was heavily sedated -- and in some pain.
Every year for decades, Walt had sent his sister Ruth a Christmas letter, accompanied by a check. In 1966 the letter was written by his secretary, Tommie Wilck. After a little small talk, she wrote, "When Walt is back in his office, I'm sure you'll get a more up-to-date and personal note from him. In the meantime, he sends his love." The night before he died, Roy visited and reported that Walt was staring at the ceiling and pointing to where everything was going to fall at EPCOT, including the entrance and exit roads. On December 15, 1966, Walt died.
Diane: "Mother called us -- we lived nearby -- and said the hospital called and said there's been a turn for the worse. I quickly drove over to pick her up. I remember it took her forever to get dressed. Meticulously putting on her earrings. I was impatient to get there. I think Mother and I both knew, without saying it. Ron was there ahead of us. As we came down the hall, I saw Ron start into the room, and back out, as if someone had pushed him out. I don't think he expected to find Dad dead. I did. And then we went in and Roy was already there, standing at the foot of his bed, with his hand on one of Dad's feet, kind of rubbing his feet, with that sweet half smile that was always his expression. And he was saying something, I forget exactly what it was -- nothing corny or trite or anything.
Something loving. The older brother. Then my brother-in-law Bob came to the room with Sharon. I had some kind of peculiar energy. Bob asked me to take her in. And I did, and I put her hand on Dad's and she said, "Now Daddy, now you won't hurt anymore." After he left the room, Roy's grief was intense. "I'd never seen him cry," said his daughter-in-law Patty. "And I put my arm around him and he walked away. He wanted to be alone."
Ruth was stunned to hear the news on the radio. "It was said so casual," she recalled with a tone of disbelief in her voice. "Then right on to the next item." "It was a great shock," said his niece Dorothy Puder. "I don't think I realized that he was that near death." Marvin Davis -- a studio designer who had married Walt's niece Marjorie -- was in a conference room at WED. "Margie called me and I excused myself, and I went out and came back and said, 'Well, gentlemen, I'm afraid I have bad news.' And everybody's faces all dropped. They knew exactly what it was."
"I don't think he believed it would ever happen," said Ward Kimball. "I don't think he accepted it, knowing Walt. Not until he closed his eyes for the last time was he ever convinced."
True to their word to him, Walt's family held a small service. They dissuaded Ruth from flying in from Portland -- for fear that journalists would follow her and the event would turn into a media circus. Walt was cremated and the ashes interred in Forest Lawn. Where the idea that Walt was frozen began, nobody knows. He may have had some interest in cryonics and explored the topic. But when Disney archivist Robert Tieman researched the issue, he discovered that the first attempts at freezing a person weren't even discussed until well after Walt's death. In any case, the people who knew Walt and loved him never heard him utter a word about trying it out himself. He never mentioned the subject to Diane or Sharon or Lilly. What's more, he was allowed to pass peacefully; his family lingered around him for some time after his death. No physicians rushed his body off to some kind of freezing chamber as would have undoubtedly been the case if he was frozen.
Roy had wanted to retire for some time. With Walt gone, he couldn't. He resolved to finish Walt's final dream -- which he insisted be called Walt Disney World. Although Walt's plans for EPCOT as a real city of tomorrow weren't followed, it's fair to say that without Walt at the helm, the venture might never have worked out anyhow. Of course, no one will ever know. A few days after Walt died, Tommy Wilck called the family. She said, "I have boxes and boxes of things of Walt's. Do you want them?" It was too much for Lilly to handle, so Sharon went and got them all. She found postcards that she had sent him in college. She found letters from Diane. She found mementos from the grandchildren. "They were all in his office," said Sharon. "And none of us knew it."
In July 1966, Walt and his whole family -- Lilly, Diane, Ron, Sharon, Bob, and all their children (including baby Victoria) -- took a memorable trip through the waters of British Columbia on a 140-foot yacht. During that time, he and Lilly celebrated their 41st wedding anniversary.
A large craft by any means, the yacht wasn't huge for six adults and seven children. But according to Diane, "The kids playing all around him didn't bother him. They were climbing all over him, and he seemed to really like that. It was a beautiful, wonderful trip. We loved it." "The Vancouver trip was wonderful," echoes Tamara, who was nine at the time. "I didn't realize at the time that he was sick. I remember him finding an eagle's feather and giving it to me. He'd just listen and observe. Knowing he didn't feel good, now it makes sense. He was the guy sitting on the boat with the camera." When Walt would grow weary, he'd retire to the upper deck of the yacht and read. Diane recalls there were two books he was focused on; one dealt with the task of choosing a college president (he was very involved in Cal-Arts at the time) and the other was a book about city planning, which he was reading for inspiration for EPCOT.
On July 24, Walt checked into UCLA Medical Center, where tests showed that he would need an operation to help relieve the pain in his neck. But he decided to wait for a while. In mid-September, Walt attended a press conference for Mineral King -- his proposed resort near Sequoia National Park. It was a gray, cold day, and Walt didn't seem well. A public relations man explained that he had simply been affected by the altitude and cold. But even a quick glance at photos taken that day show that Walt's face had aged noticeably in the year; more than the cold was ailing him. It was to be his last press conference.
In early October, Walt made a film to promote EPCOT. Shortly after the film was made, he checked into St. Joseph's Hospital. It's almost certain that he learned he had lung cancer while there. But he said not a word to his family. Later that month, he traveled to Williamsburg with Lilly, Sharon, and son-in-law Bob Brown to receive an award from the American Forestry Association. Diane and her family were invited but "we said we couldn't go. It was Halloween. The kids loved Halloween and they wouldn't miss it for anything -- not even to go to Williamsburg with Grandpa. It seems shortsighted now." "We were there for three days," recalled Sharon. "We ate and ate and talked and talked. Daddy was a good tourist. He had been back there before, so he was showing it to these two newcomers who had never been there. And he went through everything! On Halloween, the leaves were all dropping deep into the streets. There was no one around, and it was raining. One little boy came to the door for trick-or-treat. We hadn't even thought about it. It was the most awful feeling of not having anything. And I remember Daddy going from room to room trying to find a pack of gum, and he finally found something upstairs in his room; a pack of gum for this little boy. It bothered him."
On November 2, doctors told Walt that he would need surgery to remove a cancerous spot on his left lung. He ran into Peter Ellenshaw and pooh-poohed the artist's concerns. "There's no problem," Walt said. "My God," thought Ellenshaw. "My great man is going to die." The next Monday, after the operation, the surgeon reported that Walt's left lung had been removed. Lilly, Diane, and Sharon had waited for the surgeon's report -- they had no idea of the news they were about to hear. "It was as I suspected," the doctor told them. "I'd give him six months to two years." Walt spent about two weeks in the hospital, and then insisted it was time to get back to work. Secretary Tommie Wilck picked him up and brought him to the studio. "I only saw him from a distance when he was released from the hospital and came back to the studio," said Ward Kimball. "I didn't see him up close. As an artist you go by the outward shape . . . or how a person walks. He looked awfully old and bent over. . . . People who saw him up close hardly recognized him."
He had lunch with John Hench and a few others and told them about the cancer. He asked them about their current projects and then returned with them to the WED offices. "When he got over there, his voice took on enthusiasm and deepened," said Hench. "We had a few laughs and went over a few things. . . . We went over the Moon Ride. We had a full-scale mock-up of a space center control room, with which he checked out the viewing angles from public areas. He was interested in seeing how the ideas suggested at the last meeting had worked out. And he came over to see the pirate ride mock-up." Walt then walked over to artist Marc Davis' office, where he chuckled at sketches of bears that Davis was preparing for Mineral King. Davis commented on how much weight Walt had lost, "He looked at me with big, sad eyes," recalls Davis, "and God, I could have bitten my tongue off." When he left, "I stayed at the door," the artist remembered, "and watched him walk down the hall. He was, I guess, about 50 feet away. He turned and said, 'Good-bye Marc.' He never said good-bye. It was always 'See ya later.'"
Walt told everyone at the studio and WED that with the removal of the one lung he was practically good as new. But rumors flew. He was back at the studio the next couple of days, visiting the set of "Blackbeard's Ghost." The next day was Thanksgiving, which Walt and Lilly celebrated with the Miller family. "We were sitting there," Diane recalled, "and that's when I brought him a drink and a little dish. And he said, 'I don't smoke, kid. But they're still not sure that smoking causes lung cancer.' He couldn't admit that maybe it did. I had gotten on his back the last five years of his life about smoking. I said, 'You've got to stop it, Daddy. You've got to cut it out. At least smoke filter tips. He'd say, 'Knock it off, kid.'"
After a one-night stay in Palm Springs, he was back in the hospital on November 30. From there, his health failed far more rapidly than the doctors, or his family, had anticipated. "I trusted the doctors," said Lilly. "I really didn't know he was going to go. Neither did he. We had a trip planned for him to recover." The last days of his life Walt was heavily sedated -- and in some pain.
Every year for decades, Walt had sent his sister Ruth a Christmas letter, accompanied by a check. In 1966 the letter was written by his secretary, Tommie Wilck. After a little small talk, she wrote, "When Walt is back in his office, I'm sure you'll get a more up-to-date and personal note from him. In the meantime, he sends his love." The night before he died, Roy visited and reported that Walt was staring at the ceiling and pointing to where everything was going to fall at EPCOT, including the entrance and exit roads. On December 15, 1966, Walt died.
Diane: "Mother called us -- we lived nearby -- and said the hospital called and said there's been a turn for the worse. I quickly drove over to pick her up. I remember it took her forever to get dressed. Meticulously putting on her earrings. I was impatient to get there. I think Mother and I both knew, without saying it. Ron was there ahead of us. As we came down the hall, I saw Ron start into the room, and back out, as if someone had pushed him out. I don't think he expected to find Dad dead. I did. And then we went in and Roy was already there, standing at the foot of his bed, with his hand on one of Dad's feet, kind of rubbing his feet, with that sweet half smile that was always his expression. And he was saying something, I forget exactly what it was -- nothing corny or trite or anything.
Something loving. The older brother. Then my brother-in-law Bob came to the room with Sharon. I had some kind of peculiar energy. Bob asked me to take her in. And I did, and I put her hand on Dad's and she said, "Now Daddy, now you won't hurt anymore." After he left the room, Roy's grief was intense. "I'd never seen him cry," said his daughter-in-law Patty. "And I put my arm around him and he walked away. He wanted to be alone."
Ruth was stunned to hear the news on the radio. "It was said so casual," she recalled with a tone of disbelief in her voice. "Then right on to the next item." "It was a great shock," said his niece Dorothy Puder. "I don't think I realized that he was that near death." Marvin Davis -- a studio designer who had married Walt's niece Marjorie -- was in a conference room at WED. "Margie called me and I excused myself, and I went out and came back and said, 'Well, gentlemen, I'm afraid I have bad news.' And everybody's faces all dropped. They knew exactly what it was."
"I don't think he believed it would ever happen," said Ward Kimball. "I don't think he accepted it, knowing Walt. Not until he closed his eyes for the last time was he ever convinced."
True to their word to him, Walt's family held a small service. They dissuaded Ruth from flying in from Portland -- for fear that journalists would follow her and the event would turn into a media circus. Walt was cremated and the ashes interred in Forest Lawn. Where the idea that Walt was frozen began, nobody knows. He may have had some interest in cryonics and explored the topic. But when Disney archivist Robert Tieman researched the issue, he discovered that the first attempts at freezing a person weren't even discussed until well after Walt's death. In any case, the people who knew Walt and loved him never heard him utter a word about trying it out himself. He never mentioned the subject to Diane or Sharon or Lilly. What's more, he was allowed to pass peacefully; his family lingered around him for some time after his death. No physicians rushed his body off to some kind of freezing chamber as would have undoubtedly been the case if he was frozen.
Roy had wanted to retire for some time. With Walt gone, he couldn't. He resolved to finish Walt's final dream -- which he insisted be called Walt Disney World. Although Walt's plans for EPCOT as a real city of tomorrow weren't followed, it's fair to say that without Walt at the helm, the venture might never have worked out anyhow. Of course, no one will ever know. A few days after Walt died, Tommy Wilck called the family. She said, "I have boxes and boxes of things of Walt's. Do you want them?" It was too much for Lilly to handle, so Sharon went and got them all. She found postcards that she had sent him in college. She found letters from Diane. She found mementos from the grandchildren. "They were all in his office," said Sharon. "And none of us knew it."