The Carousel

Lake Winnepesoukah, that name still rings in my ears.  Summer wouldn’t be summer without at least one day spent at Lake Winnie.  That’s what all the locals called the eighty-five year old amusement park in Chattanooga, Tennessee.  And I was a local, well sort of anyway.  Being from Cleveland was considered a local, at least to all of us who lived in Cleveland, a little mountain town 30 miles north of Chattanooga.  Every summer it was a requirement for the children of Cleveland to make the pilgrimage to the land where children rule, Lake Winnepesoukah.



I first enjoyed the delights of this magical place when I was just a boy of seven.  I still recall the sounds, smells and sights that enchanted me, especially the most holy of holy places for any child’s visit to Lake Winnie.  There nestled in a corner of the park and sitting across from the lake was to be my first carnival ride and to this day I speak its name in a reverent whisper, it was, “The Carousel”.



This magical turning, twirling top was bejeweled with mirrors, lights and hand carved horses, tigers and animals from darkest Africa.  It was more than a mere merry-go-round, it was a spinning magical feast for the eyes and ears of a young boy, who bravely approached the whirling platform and proudly announced to his father that he must ride the lion with the golden mane.  Yes, the lion would be mine and on that day I demanded nine times that no one else would ride him except for me.  Nine times my lion and I whirled and twirled with the lights and the laughter of all those who spun with me on animals of their own.  But alas, the day was short for this adventurous little boy, whose strength began to wane as sleep reached down with her gentle touch and enticed him into his father’s tender embrace.



We left the park, this paradise of a place, with all its beckoning sounds and dazzle, and we slowly made our way back to our car which was lost amid all the others in a sea of steel.  But just as we walked through the gates, I lifted my heavy head from my father’s shoulder to take one last look at my lion on "The Carousel" and as my eyes focused in the dim twilight, I was certain that my lion smiled at me.