Despite being a Kennywood fan and a lover of theme parks in general, I had never seen WQED’s Kennywood Memories. For the few who might be unfamiliar, the hour-long documentary special from 1988, produced, written, and narrated by Rick Sebak, is considered a classic, capturing not only Kennywood but Pittsburgh life itself.
Bottlerocket Social Hall, which hosts an annual screening of Kennywood Memories, describes the documentary as “a warm hug of a film that is a pure joy to watch” and “perhaps the most iconic film ever about our city.” The venue even has a framed Kennywood Memories poster hanging near the bar, across from another vintage Kennywood poster advertising it as “The Coaster Capital of the World.” The latest annual screening took place Jul. 2.
Ahead of July Fourth, I thought: what better way to experience the city’s favorite time capsule film than at one of its favorite time capsule bars? For three years running, Sebak himself has also appeared with the film, bringing his own copy and taking audience questions afterward.
From what I’d heard about Kennywood Memories, I was expecting some potent ’80s nostalgia and footage of colorful characters around the park. The film more than delivers here, with big hair, thick accents, and Spandex so copious that park staff comment on it in the movie.
Somehow, I even managed to underestimate Pittsburgh’s fervor for the people featured.
Before the movie started at Bottlerocket, Sebak took the stage before a sold-out crowd — getting a pop star’s welcome — and asked a “trivia” question. Did we know where the woman shown working the Wave Swinger, Beth Snodgrass, went to college, and her hometown?
There was no pause before: “IUP! Dravosburg!”
Snodgrass was also a surprise guest. Though she only worked at Kennywood for one summer, her family is asked about Kennywood Memories to this day. After the documentary aired in Sept. 1988 — Snodgrass watched live from her college dorm — her mother fielded calls and letters from people who looked her up in the White Pages.
Other beloved characters included Gino Chamboredon on the rollercoaster maintenance team (Sebak confirmed he still works at Kennywood).
“Gino!” the audience called out, gasping as he slipped on the wooden catwalk of the Thunderbolt.
Charles J. Jacques Jr., theme park historian and Natrona Heights attorney, got big laughs demonstrating how to say “awww” while riding the Turtle. Joe Williams of Bloomfield, former manager of Noah’s Ark, 85 and retired in the film, had people in stitches with a story about rigging the ride’s entrance with hidden hoses that would blow air up women’s skirts.
This is not even mentioning the rides that got applause — the now-closed Log Jammer, Raging Rapids, and the defunct Hard Headed Harold’s Horrendously Humorous Haunted Hideaway, a dark ride.
“Bring it back!” someone shouted.
I was expecting nostalgia, but I wasn’t prepared for the film’s wistfulness. Though joyful, I found it bittersweet, the documentary itself already tinged with melancholy and anxiety about the passage of time.
Kennywood Memories unfolds across two timelines: a day at the park in summer ’88 that runs before opening at sunrise until close after sundown and Kennywood’s then-89-year-long history. Visiting various park rides and locations allows the documentary to flash back to earlier eras, noting what’s been changed or improved.
After meeting Gino about six minutes in, we come to Charlie Lyons, who tunes up the Gran Prix bumper cars and sets the film’s tone.
“[Kennywood] still has its character, but it’s a little different now. It’s not the old stuff anymore, it’s a little newer, and you sort of have to adjust yourself to it, you know. It’s like a little faster-paced world out here now,” Lyon says.
“But it’s almost like Kennywood’s here regardless of the public coming in and out, different generations, and the different management that comes and goes or whatever. Kennywood’s here, and it’s probably always gonna be here. You know, it’s just something that exists.”
For me, Lyons gives the main contention: Kennywood may be an eternal paradise, but your Kennywood is fleeting and likely already gone, to be treasured in the realm of Kennywood memories.
Taking his cue from Lyons, Sebak points out that Kennywood hasn’t always existed, officially opened in 1899. The narration gives more background: first a grove and picnic spot, the Kenny family began leasing its land to Andrew Mellon (who’s credited for the name Kennywood) to create a trolley park that would draw more riders. The first attractions included a carousel, dance pavilion, and bandshell, starting Kennywood down the path to become the thrill-ride-driven amusement park it is today.
In Kennywood Memories, then-park president Carl Hughes praises the 1988 park for straddling the line between traditional and modern, saying, “Kennywood is a traditional park in the finest sense. We feel Kennywood is America’s Tivoli.”
Being filmed 36 years ago, the documentary features a number of people closer to living memory of the original park. Isabel Snyder, the daughter of a park visitor from its first season in 1899, appears in the film, remembering how her mother composed “Kennywood Park Waltz,” played on the park’s band organ. Naomi Jones, another favorite character, started at the park in the summer of 1929, and is shown expertly running the lost and found and sorting through keys.
“Times change,” is a sentiment echoed throughout, with even Sebak saying in narration that the old Penny Arcade his grandmother loved is now filled with “high-tech razzle-dazzle.”
Though much of the old park and a substantial number of rides from 1988 are still around today, it was bittersweet to realize this Kennywood is also largely a memory, if only because we’re decades removed from it. Something about the theme park, already seasonal, is difficult to hold on to.
“When they announce the park will close in 15 minutes and the lights start to go out, you have to leave. But you know this is a place you will remember,” the film ends.
Moderating the Q&A after the screening, Bottlerocket owner Chris Copen said the film Kennywood Memories is as vivid to him as time he’s actually spent at Kennywood: “It is a Kennywood memory.”
When asked if he’d ever consider a follow-up documentary, Sebak answered that it would be too different now that the park is corporate- rather than family-owned.
“It doesn’t even appeal to me that much to go back to Kennywood,” he said.
But ongoing change might only deepen the love for the artifact of Kennywood Memories.
Asked about the film’s enduring appeal, “It’s Rick,” Beth Snodgrass said.
“It’s Pittsburgh,” Sebak said.
This article appears in Jun 26 – Jul 2, 2024.
