Thankfully the coaster is being dismantled in a gentle fashion in hopes that it can someday find a buyer, but until then, a huge piece of Memphis history vanishes into storage.

“Green Bay will continue to negotiate with the owners of two wooden roller coasters in the hope of acquiring one for Bay Beach Amusement Park.

After a 40-minute closed session on the subject, the Park Committee voted unanimously Wednesday evening to direct staff to continue working to acquire one. The City Council still must approve the Park Committee recommendation. It meets at 7 p.m. Tuesday in Council Chambers of City Hall, 100 N. Jefferson St.

Mayor Jim Schmitt, who attended the closed session, said after the meeting that there’s a strong chance one of the owners would donate the ride to Green Bay. But he cautioned, “that isn’t the big expense. It’s the relocating, the engineering, the bringing it to code.” Even a donated roller coaster could cost “more than hundreds of thousands of dollars,” he said.

The expense would not go on the tax base, he said. Instead, the city will consider issuing revenue bonds, seeking private donations and establishing a higher ticket price for the ride to pay for it, he said.

The park generates hundreds of thousands of dollars in income each year, through ticket sales, concessions and other means. If only a third of the visitors to the park would ride the roller coaster at $1 a ride, it would make the ride affordable, and its presence could increase use of the park’s other attractions, Schmitt said.

Tickets for the 16 rides at the park are 25 and 50 cents, depending on the ride.

Schmitt said the city wants a historical, wooden roller coaster that, while not offering the corkscrew turns of the famed Demon of Great America, would still have “some thrills.” He said it likely would have 2,500 feet of track and be several stories tall.

A roller coaster was one of the recommendations when the city hired a consultant to upgrade the park last year.

Bay Beach last had a roller coaster in 1936.”

This is pure speculation on my part,  but I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the two rollercoasters they were negotiating was the Zippin Pippin. It’s about 2800 feet long and several stories tall – while many wooden coasters fit that mold, it’s not that far of a stretch to say the Zippin Pippin might be looked at.

This seems like an excellent place for a classic such as the Zippin Pippin.

All that’s left of the Arrow looper Revolution is its station. The ride is still sitting in pieces at Delgrosso’s in Pennsylvania.

As I approached the entrance plaza, it was obvious not much had changed since my last visit in 2008.

The Creative Arts Center linked the fairgrounds adjacent to Libertyland and the park itself.

Peaking through the iron gates surrounding the front of the park gave me a glimpse of what little has changed over the past four years.

Picnic tables are stacked atop each other, untouched.

A sign for a picnic area is tucked away behind a tree.

Independence Station is where guests could catch Casey Jone’s train that took them around the park.

A quaint building stood over the entrance plaza.

The picnic pavillion stands empty.

Looking towards the Independence Station area of the park.

A rusted truck can be seen in front of the park’s pizzeria.

As I made my way around the park I noticed something different. A wide open path leading towards the Zippin Pippin. Being somewhat intrigued by this open path, I began walking towards the coaster.

I thought to myself, “this can’t be happening, how could someone leave a gate that huge open?”

Before I knew it, one step had turned into twenty, and I was face-to-face with the legendary Zippin Pippin.

While I wasn’t in the park itself, I began to see how dilapidated the infrastructure of the park was.

The Zippin Pippin looked as if it was being devoured by the massive trees surrounding it.

I couldn’t believe how close I was. My hands were shaking as I attempted to take as many pictures as possible.

As I made my way down the path, it became obvious that the ride would require a massive refurb to become operational again.

Before I knew it, I was inside Libertyland. The conditions of the park’s buildings hit me hard…

…as did the vandalism that had occured inside.

The park has become an urban jungle, complete with stray animals and wild plant growth.

The Grand Carousel, all that’s left of any value at the park, stands boarded up.

Looking towards the antique cars station, I finally got my bearings straight – I was in the dead center of the park.

The station stands in the background with a blank information sign in the foreground.

A worn map diplay stand shows small pieces of former park maps.

I couldn’t believe it, I was staring at the entrance to the Zippin Pippin. As a child I had passed through this structure countless times on my way to conquer the second-oldest coaster in the nation.

This once held a sign full of fun facts about the ride.

The entire ride is in such a depressing state that it’s hard to even remember how beautiful it once was.

It was hard for me to grasp where I was because so many rides have been removed.

A pieces of the antique car track still remains.

A hole in the roof allows light to cast an eerie glow under the station.

This area used to be one of the most lively sections of the park. You could watch family members ride the carousel while enjoying the amusement park fanfare music.

I made my way out of the park as the sun began to cast a silhouette of the carousel.

On my way out, I turned back and got one more glimpse of the park. After four years of trying, I finally saw my hometown park one last time.

Thanks for reading. If you’re interested in Libertyland, you can check out our “side-site” Remember Libertyland.

Four years after Libertyland was shuttered, the Grand Carousel will finally leave the property, though its ultimate destination is still uncertain.

The city has contracted with a leading restoration firm, Carousels & Carvings Inc. of Marion, Ohio, to disassemble and store the 100-year-old amusement ride.

Jack Sammons, city chief administrative officer, said Tuesday he expects the carousel to be removed within the next two weeks. He declined to say where it’ll be housed, but said the administration of Mayor Pro Tem Myron Lowery supports eventually restoring it and moving it to The Children’s Museum of Memphis.

Once the carousel exits the fairgrounds, so will the extra security detail that has ended up costing the city more than $250,000, Sammons said.

For more than two years, an extra Protech Security guard has been stationed next to the boarded-up attraction, ensuring that nobody stole from or vandalized it.

Don Lewis, vice president of the security firm, said the city requested an additional guard a couple of years ago to provide around-the-clock protection because of community concern about the carousel. Extra guards cost $19 per hour, or more than $160,000 a year, Lewis said.

The carousel is a civic treasure worth protecting, Sammons said, but providing around-the-clock protection “was absurd.”

“The carousel is a very valuable asset of the city, but if you continue that rate of spending [on security], you end up spending more than it’s worth,” Sammons said.

The Grand Carousel, described as one of the oldest all-horse carousels in the nation, was built in 1909 by William H. Dentzel. Listed with the National Register of Historic places, it has been valued at more than $1 million, but for some Memphians, its historic and sentimental significance is priceless.

Sammons said the Lowery administration wants to protect the carousel long enough to find a new home for it in Memphis.

“Our goal is hopefully have the carousel at the Children’s Museum,” he said.

The nonprofit museum on Central Avenue does not receive government support and relies on admissions and donations to meet operating expenses.

“We can only accept the carousel if there’s a check attached,” said former city mayor Dick Hackett, CEO of the museum. “It needs a serious restoration, and we’re not in a financial position to restore it.”

When the Riverfront Development Corp. considered moving the carousel to Mud Island, the cost of a full restoration — not including a facility to house the ride — was estimated at as much $1 million, said Benny Lendermon, president of the RDC.

The RDC backed off the plans because of opposition from groups that supported renovating and reopening Libertyland.

“Our board was interested in saving the carousel, not trying to fight for the carousel,” Lendermon said.

One of the leading advocates for the Libertyland site was lawyer Steve Mulroy, now a member of the Shelby County Commission.

While he is critical that the carousel has essentially been mothballed for four years and allowed to deteriorate, Mulroy is worried about moving it without a plan to relocate it elsewhere.

“There’s a real danger that if it’s dismantled and stored, there’ll be an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ dynamic,” he said.

Other than the wooden Zippin Pippin roller coaster, which has been exposed to the elements for four years without any maintenance, the carousel is the only thing of value at the shuttered amusement park.

The rest of old Libertyland is in a state of advanced decay, with garbage strewn everywhere and graffiti defacing several buildings.

Early Tuesday morning, a guard was parked in a black midsized sedan on the west side of the carousel. Tall weeds partially obscured his view of the property.

Lewis said his guards have spotted a few trespassers on the Libertyland site, but they were mostly curiosity seekers.

“We’ve had numerous people who wanted to see what’s back there, but no vandalism and no arrests,” he said.

– Roland Klose: 529-3136