Specifications

©DAGOGO 2010 – special reprint by permission. Page 2
The adolescent Doug Schroeder
When I was in my early teens I rode the Screamin’ Eagle rollercoaster at Six Flags St. Louis.
What a memorable first ride! It must have been about 1977, maybe a year after the coaster
opened, and it was a hot, sticky summer day. At the small band shell near the coaster a funky
disco group called KC and the Sunshine Band jammed for riders. I waited impatiently for the
front seat of the coaster to have my first ride. I was matched up with a teen girl of unmemorable
description, and we bolted toward the sky. Well, actually we ka-chunk, ka-chunked our way as
the chain pulled us upward to the first drop. One hundred ten feet high and sixty two mph – it
was the “baddest” of the coasters at the time!
As we reached the crest I let out a whoop. I turned toward my terrified co-passenger,
encouraging her, “Put your hands up!” She had a death grip and was not letting go. We sailed
around the track, swaying semi-violently as we were flung side to side in the bench seat. Once
we hit the sweeping turn at the top, my extended elbow plowed into her head and sent her eye
glasses plummeting into the blurry void below! I screamed over the coaster’s roar, “I’m SO
sorry!” My arms were no longer extended. Profusely I apologized as we careened into the last
turns and came to a stop. Exiting the ride I steeled myself against the horror to come which
would include facing disgruntled mom and dad, apologizing repeatedly to her parents,
humiliation and expense for replacement glasses. As I tried to face up to the circumstances, she
became adamant, “GO! GO! I never wanted glasses! GO! Now I can get contacts!” She shooed
me away like a stinky farm animal, “Go, now, before my parents come back!” I went (and there’s
still a pinch of residual guilt about it). As I walked away I thought, “Wooooooooooooo!” Now
THAT was a ride!