By Leica R. Carpo, Publisher
Sunday Inquirer Magazine
AT THE AGE of three I was kidnapped in Disneyland — or so I presumed as I kicked and screamed like a banshee getting skinned alive at the tall American who was bravely attempting to help me find my mom. My young mom barely 21 at that time had somehow misplaced me in the sea of humanity within the theme park. The tall American had carried me atop his shoulder in order to better spot my missing mother and I had misunderstood this action as his attempt to permanently abscond with me. Being so far from the ground and trapped in his arms I remember panic setting in and my survival instinct going on overdrive. Although I distinctly recall him saying, “Don’t worry honey I will take you to your mommy.” I remember thinking that this was a mere ruse on his part to silence me. So I upped my voice a couple of octaves higher and proceeded to pummel him with all my might.
At this point, if he had any intention of kidnapping he must have changed his mind when he saw what a handful I had become in a matter of seconds. The theory he may have had of well-behaved Asian kids was thrown out the window as I threw a fit that was probably heard clear across Fantasyland. I can still see the looks of pity that the other parents and kids were giving him for putting up with the brat in “The Magic Kingdom” the one place where all kids are guaranteed to be in a good mood.
Soon after my mom came running in our direction probably from the commotion we were causing — okay I was causing. In retrospect, I like to think of this tall American as my first “knight in shining armor — minus the horse” and the effort he made to rescue me as just part of the trials that all future knights were gonna have to undergo to rescue me. Yes I was already a hopeless, some would say crazy romantic at age three.
Editor’s note: Photo is a childhood picture of one of the author’s friends.
