An eyecatching sight on the side of I-15 in the Mojave desert, Lake Dolores can be thought of as three separate waterparks: the freewheeling 60s, 70s, and 80s waterpark; the modern 90s reincarnation; and the post-closure abandoned waterpark. This is the story of America’s first waterpark, Lake Dolores Waterpark.
Listen or read this episode of The Abandoned Carousel. Both versions are below.
Thanks to Dawn for suggesting this topic!
“I still have a scar on my knee from that park!” remembers one visitor in an online forum for the Lake Dolores Waterpark.
“I still remember when Jay […] went down [the slide] on a Boogie board and zoomed straight across the lake and came to an abrupt stop under his truck.”
Lake Dolores Waterpark perhaps could be remembered as the Action Park of the West, it seems. Both had the young, fun, wild vibes that came with lax safety rules, summertime sunshine, and free-flowing alcohol. “Only real rules there were no motorcycles in the park and no beer bongs.”
“No fear when you’re young,” remembers another visitor, and someone else chimes in, “So 80s!”
Lake Dolores Waterpark
The location: Newberry Springs, California. Located a few miles from Barstow, off I-15 between Los Angeles and Las Vegas, this is the location of a desert oasis, a little spot in the middle of nowhere. (Yep, kind of nowhere – it’s roughly equidistant between Vegas and Los Angeles, roughly 140 miles from each.)
The area is attractive to those interested in desert outdoor sports – water skiing, ATVing, motocross, etc. But mostly, it’s a pretty empty spot of desert that people only catch a glimpse of as they rush by on the I-15.
Local attractions include Zzyzx Road, a monastery, Calico Ghost Town, and the subject of today’s episode, the abandoned site of the former Lake Dolores (later called Rock-a-Hoola Waterpark).
Before Lake Dolores Was a Waterpark
The waterpark was the brainchild of John Robert Byers. He was known as Bob. Originally, Bob was involved in the paint business back in the 40s and 50s in Yermo, CA, but he was a man with big ideas. He sold his share in that business to start a grand venture in the desert around 1953. Reportedly, at the time, land was a penny an acre, and if you made improvements on it for five years, it would become yours.
The first thing that was built on the site was an airplane hangar. This then became the family home.
Bob and his wife Dolores (known as Dee) started out with a homestead in the area – 350 acres, including cattle ranch, ponies, and alfalfa fields. Some of their property included some of the current I-15, and they had to sell about 50 acres when I-15 was widened.
In 1966, Lake Dolores as we know it began to take shape. He built a man-made lake on one of the area’s natural springs, conveniently located a hundred yards from the now-existing I-15. He called it Lake Dolores, after his wife. Originally, the park was simply a private desert campground for his family. They had waterskiing and boat racing, as well as fishing. Grandchild Penny Byers remembers online, “Each year my grandpa would add something to the lake.”
Dawn Fields, who once worked on a documentary for the place, was interviewed as saying “… He wanted it to be a landing place, a pit stop, a place to just cool off and refresh. That started catching on, and the word got out and people started flocking to the water.”
The park grew in popularity, and attracted more and more outdoor sports enthusiasts. The scope of the park, then, also began to expand, to include slides of multiple types, thrilling trapeze rides, a boat racing track, and an expanded campground and MX/ATV course.
The park is generally considered the first modern waterpark in America. Why?
Well, at the time, there simply were no other commercial water parks; places might have lakes or swimming, but the waterpark, with its slides and other attractions, was unknown. Bob and his family built every attraction for the original iteration of the park by hand. By opening the place up to the public, Dawn Fields said: “that’s what turned it into the first water park, because there’s no record going back of any official water park prior to that. So whether he knew it or not, he was really kind of inventing America’s first water park.” In 1971, 30,000 visitors came to Lake Dolores.
But of course, it was more than just a water park.
“It was pretty much a free-for-all party location in the middle of nowhere.”
People called it Lake “D” and “Lake Delirious”. A former visitor remembers: “This place was a mud hole with no grass hardly any trees and dirt AND WE LOVED IT. Every summer the bikers would throw a week long party that was totally insane”. Universally online, the memories of the original Lake Dolores are of the good times and great dangers.
What made it that way? Let’s go over the safety hazards that made Lake Dolores so memorable. But first, some facts.
Getting to Lake Dolores
Obviously a water park in the middle of the desert is a pretty attractive notion, especially in the days prior to common home air conditioning. Temperatures can soar well over 110F in the daytime. Those who aren’t from the desert might not realize that the temperature swing once the sun goes down is quite dramatic – a 30F difference. And although it’s the desert, winter temps can still be below freezing, so a waterpark is still a seasonal concept.
To get to Lake Dolores, you did and still do take the Harvard exit off I-15. If you lived within five or ten miles at the time, that was considered close enough to bike or walk. Otherwise, the park was easily visible off the newly constructed I-15, formerly state route 91, and attracted many visitors from the interstate. Cars drove down the dusty desert roads, paid their entrance fee at the entrance building (a single-wide mobile home). Until 1971, admission was free. In 1972, prices were raised from 50 cents to 1.50 for adults, 75 cents for kids. The Byers family began advertising in the local paper.
“Funtastic!” the ad read. “Primitive camping, swimming, giant swings, 180ft slides into water, fishing.”
At the park, cars could park, many quite close to the water’s edge. In front of them, a vista of murky lakes and lagoons. I should be more generous here – although the lakes were not what we picture compared to today’s waterparks, they were quality tested regularly. Water was pumped from the wells that once irrigated alfafa fields, and then was pumped through the swim lakes into the various fishing lakes in a constant circulation.
Black steel drum trash cans were everywhere on the hot desert dirt. There were a handful of scraggly desert trees to provide greenery, but mostly it was that unending desert – Bob reportedly wanted it to look like a beach. The main feature was the sliding hill, made from the dirt scooped out for the lakes and lagoons, and its shiny silver slides.
The Sit-Down Slides at Lake Dolores
Adjacent to the lake was built up a man-made hill, upon which eight identical slides perched, the eye-catching feature of the park. Originally, there were only two slides. The sun likely reflected off the slides to catch the attention of drivers on the freeway. Each rider used an inflatable raft to coast down the slide: seated, on the belly, or on the back. The slides were 180-ft long as advertised, and ran at a jaw-dropping sixty degree angle. When riders hit the water, they would skid 40, 50, 60 (etc) feet across the lagoon at about 40mph, like so many skipping stones. And there was no guarantee the riders would stay in the water. Quote: “I can even tell you that putting baby oil on the sit down slide rafts would increase the speed on your way down the slide”. Dozens of stories online relate how friends would fly out of the pool and land in the dirt.
This was just the tip of the iceberg for safety hazards at Lake Dolores.
The Stand-Up Slides at Lake Dolores
Emptying into a separate lagoon and coming off that same hill were the infamous pair of stand-up slides. These were 220 ft long and ran at 60 degrees like their lay-down counterparts. Different however was that the stand-up slides required riders to stand up as they went down the slide. Riders had to maintain their balance on the slick running water lest they fall off into the desert dirt they’d just trudged up to get to the top (no stairs, folks).
At the end of the slide, instead of coasting into the lagoon like the lay-down slides next door, the riders were met with a 10-15ft drop into the water below. The effect was something like a human cannonball.
Promotional videos for the park show riders with very impressive skills, spinning in circles while standing and sliding down the slide. Quote: “ doing 360s’ down the stand up slides was only for the truly brave Lake Dolorians as we called ourselves.” Or pairs of riders, doing coordinating flips at the end into the water. Of course, many people slipped and fell, taking the ride on their rear ends, too.
Quote: “Sliding down that metal slide in your bare feet was really tough, you’d always be scared of falling right as you got to the end and hitting your head on the lip of the slide. We would see at least one major injury every single day.”
The Zip Cord (“The Tram”) at Lake Dolores
In between the two sets of slides was the Zip Cord, known as The Tram. This was a 200 ft long guidewire. Riders held on to a cobbled-together hand tram (sort of two wheels with a handle) and zoomed downward, at continually increasing speeds. At the end of the line was a tire, which stopped the tram and sent riders dropping, usually screaming, the twenty feet into the murky lagoon below. The true challenge, of course, was to hold on at least long enough to be over water. If you let go too soon, it was a painful and likely bloody fall onto the hard desert dirt below.
A visitor who spent time at the park every Memorial Day in the 70s remembers: “When we were relaxing on the lakeside in lawn chairs, we’d watch people fall off the zip lines as they started off and tumble down that rocky hill or better yet, not let go before hitting the tire at the end and get whipped/thrown head over heels right to the edge of the shore in barely knee-deep water.”
The Trapeze at Lake Dolores
In an adjacent lake stood some deep waters with a wild-looking structure in the middle. Like an upsized version of a child’s swingset, this was an A-frame structure with several platforms and three trapeze swings.
Reportedly launching from a height of 20 ft, riders usually did ungraceful swings off the trapeze, landing in uncomfortable belly flops.
The trapeze stand also had high dive platforms, as well, and a balancing log, for knocking opponents off of into the water. In one section, there was a normal metal child’s swing standing in the water, the bottom of the swing seat touching the water. One visitor comments “pretty sure this is now why i am afraid of dark water.”
The water in this pool, really more of a lake or lagoon, like all others, was a far cry from modern waterparks: murky muddy water, like a lake, instead of the crystal clear chlorine water in a falsely blue basin of today’s parks. Visitors online share more than one story of finding something unmentionable floating in the water while swimming.
But… “There was simply no place like it when it was 115 [degrees F]!”
Other Amenities at Lake Dolores
Lake Dolores also had other amenities, including the campground, the motocross and ATV tracks, and the lake for boat and jet-ski races. As the park grew more popular, a snack shack was added. There were also bumper boats, “racing cars”, and mini golf.
It was 100% a family operation. By all accounts the Byers family is and was a close one. Every online remembrance I’ve read of the place talks about how nice, genuine, and wonderful the Byers family was. Every post that talks about them talks about how it was a family operation first and foremost, how their hearts were poured into the park. The children, cousins, and grandchildren all spent their summers 24/7 at Lake Dolores. They worked as lifeguards, they staffed the snack bars, took admissions, etc.
The park was also located reasonably close to other amenities located just three miles down the road at the next offramp (close for the time): a Stuckey’s family restaurant and a Shell gas station with a convenience store.
Increasing Popularity for Lake Dolores Waterpark
“The one thing that was a constant at Lake Dolores was that someone was going to get hurt. Everytime we went someone either spiraled off the stand up slide into a spectacular crash….or someone didn’t run far enough on the zip line before they lifted their feet….and got drug across the hot dirt for several yards before they were high enough in the air…etc…”
Despite, or perhaps because of, the thrilling nature of the waterpark, Lake Dolores saw a slow and steady increase in attendance over the decades. Quote from a former visitor online: “And Lake Delores was a death trap! All the rides were so dangerous! Yeah it was a blast! ” Reportedly, guests had to sign a Waiver of Liability upon entrance to the park. There isn’t a single comment section I’ve found talking about Lake Dolores in this period that doesn’t mention the thrills and the danger and the injuries.
Reportedly, the joke used to be, “If you didn’t come home with a bruise or a scrape from Lake Dolores, you didn’t have any fun.”
It was promoted as the “Fun Spot of the Desert”. No longer was it only a midway stop for those driving from Los Angeles to Las Vegas. It became a destination. Low-budget commercials for Lake Dolores aired during afternoon cartoons and late night bad movies. A 1970s interview was aired on local news, in which patrons sang the praises of the park, despite it’s location. Was it worth driving 150 miles to get to Lake Dolores? “You get tired of the beaches. You want a change every now and then. Nothing’s like this around where we live.”
Word of mouth, of course, was a strong driving factor for attendance. “Only went there once, for two glorious days in the early eighties,” says one former visitor in a comment online. “It was the absolute most fun I have ever had at a water park.”
Particularly popular with thrill-seeking teens and young adults, visitors would often line up in their cars by the dozens, sleeping overnight just outside of the front gates in order to get the best weekend camping spots. Apparently, tents could be pitched right at the water’s edge, and in the morning, patrons could roll out of their tents and jump into the water. Can you imagine?
Anecdotal reports online are that one or more deaths did occur at the park in this incarnation, but it is hard to corroborate stories. Newspaper reports are as follows: a 22-year-old 1978 drowning in the high dive/trapeze pool, a 6-year-old drowned in one of the small swimming pools,
For the most part, people write about the place with incredible fondness. Lake Dolores was remembered for its free-flowing beer, all-night parties, anytime hookups, an epic hangovers. It was remembered for bus trips and senior ditch days and young people wearing very little in the hot summer sunshine. Sleeping in the backs of trucks, staring up at the clearest sky of stars that only the desert produces. Friends, weed, sunburns, music, cold beer, and cool water in the hot dry desert, that was Lake Dolores.
Closure of Lake Dolores Waterpark
In the late 1980s, Lake Dolores Waterpark closed for the first time. Details, as always seem to be the case, are light, but some report financial problems. Opinions online are that insurance and worker’s comp for the free-wheeling park “killed it”.
Perhaps, but perhaps not.
In 1986, local ordinances about water at recreational parks were updated to be more strict. In an article at the time, Byers was quoted as worrying that this new standard could force the closure of his park due to the murky waters.
Attitudes were changing. Vegas was building water parks, such as Wet ‘n Wild on the strip. Society was developing different expectations for safety. The tides were simply shifting. And Bob and Dolores wanted to retire, and none of their children wanted to take over the operation of the park. So, it was sold.
This incarnation of the park was nothing if not a bunch of drunk hippies with an “anything goes”, no-hold barred kind of attitude. The opinion was one of personal responsibility. “We did belly flops that emptied the pools.” says one visitor. “Lake Dolores was the epitome of what a water park SHOULD still be. If the ride/apparatus scares you, don’t go on it.”
Rock-a-Hoola Waterpark
With the sale of the Lake Dolores waterpark, we enter the era of the “second” waterpark: Rock-a-Hoola.
The property changed hands several times. Originally, the title was proposed as “Water World of Barstow” in 1986, which was to be a large RV park with several themed villages, a golf course, and of course, Lake Dolores. This project was in development for 18 months, but was ultimately canceled in 1987 due to the developer being unable to find investment funding. Byers was quoted at the time saying “It’s still up for sale. I want to retire.”
In 1989, the property was officially sold and development reportedly began in earnest on this same concept. Still, nothing came of it, and the property was sold to “Lake Dolores Group LLC”, which was an investment group led by a man named Terry Christensen.
Christensen was a former Marine, and a general contractor who’d build four other water parks previously. He was ready for a park of his own, and envisioned a modern, polished park with a 1950s theme. The name was to be Rock-a-Hoola. Yes, like the Elvis song, and yes, probably spelled as it is to avoid legal infringement.
Dawn Fields: “From the ‘90s when Terry Christensen rebuilt it, what strikes you is just the bold color. The big, huge bright red windy slide and the big colorful mushroom umbrellas, the Route 66 feel and the rockabilly, Elvis Presley ‘50s theme that he built into it.”
Christensen was reportedly inspired by finding a better place for his family to jet ski; their previous getaway place, Lake Mead, was often too crowded with boaters. Together with the investment group, the plan was for a waterpark, campground, and lake.
Opening of Rock-a-Hoola Park
It took several years to renovate the park for the modern era, both from a financial perspective and from the perspective of physical work to be done on the site. In 1995, the original waterslides on the hill were removed and new slides were installed. These were bright fiberglass numbers – white and red and blue.
The park was laid out to include a lazy river, a kids’ splash pad, an arcade, lockers, a water fountain, and a snack shack. Gone was the murky lake and camp style of the old Lake Dolores, and in was crystal clear chlorinated water. The theming was a slick, over the top “fifties” theme, though most of the buildings were done in what I’d called 90s desert concrete more than anything. Retro billboards promoted the theming throughout the park. Up on the hill, a giant cylinder was painted with a bright red Coke promotion.
Reportedly, Christensen’s daughter was the one to name each of the slides after favorite 50s songs: the Doo Wop Super Drop, Blueberry Hill Thrill, The Big Bopper.
Christensen had big plans for the park, digging a new lake and wells. RV sites were laid out for camping, and the ultimate goal was for a much larger complex, potentially even including a hotel. The grand plans never came to fruition, as neither of the 21st century owners ever raised the capital to realize the plans.
The park opened in 1998, as “America’s First Waterpark in the 21st Century”. Admission was $17.95 for adults and $12.95 for kids.
One of the park’s big selling points was that it had the largest family raft ride in the US at the time. This was the Big Bopper.
Events of the Late 90s at Rock-a-Hoola
Unfortunately, things were not to be very rosy in the 21st century for Rock-a-Hoola. One of the three investors in the Lake Dolores LLC group made problems, forcing the park to file for Chapter 11 bankruptcy right away in 1998.
Operations continued and attendance at the waterpark was moderate.
The Electric Daisy Carnival, now an annual event in multiple cities with hundreds of thousands of attendees, held one of its first annual EDM festivals at Rock-a-Hoola in June of 1999. Over 10,000 people attended the festival.
Later in 1999, a major incident occurred which would hasten the park’s problems.
An employee, James Mason, reported to work at the waterpark. While off the clock waiting for his shift to start after a competition, Mason asked another employee to turn on the Doo Wop Super Drop slide so he could cool down. Unfortunately, the catch pool was not sufficiently full, which wasn’t realized until after he’d already begun sliding. Mason hit the pool’s concrete with massive force, and was paralyzed, rendered a complete parapalegic.
Ultimately, Mason sued Lake Dolores and won, receiving $4.4M in 2004, well after the park had closed.
The park continued on for three seasons as Rock-a-Hoola, by which time they’d amassed over three million dollars in debt. In 2000, debt continuing to rise, the park entered Chapter 7 liquidation. The property was given back to Dolores Byers (Bob having passed away in 1996) after the court-appointed trustee couldn’t find a buyer, nearly all debts forgiven.
Dolores Byers sold the property again in 2001 to a different investment group, and passed away in October of that year.
The Short-Lived Discovery Waterpark
With $400k of renovations and Terry Christensen still on board as a consultant, newly renamed Discovery Waterpark opened in 2002, operating on weekends in 2002 and 2003 seasons. During the 2004 season, the park operated intermittently and inconsistently before closing for good that year. Despite the “new” name, I’ve seen little to no indications that signs for the park ever included the new name. Billboards from the park’s abandoned days still feature the Rock-a-Hoola logo and “Discovery Waterpark”, that generic name, is to be honest, an afterthought in the story of the park.
Reportedly, when the park closed in the 2000s, employees weren’t paid for the last month of the park’s operation. However, they were reportedly allowed to take whatever they pleased home with them: “Computers, furniture, food…anything.”
Possible Futures for Rock-a-Hoola / Lake Dolores
At one point in the late 2000s, applications were made for the land to be used as a housing development, an RV park, or a senior retirement home. Reportedly Ron Brown, then of the Oakland Raiders, was even in serious talks to buy the park at one time.
The report at the time from the local realtor scene was that insurance costs for the park after the accident went sky high. Many online unfairly blame the injured employee for “killing the park” which is unfair and inaccurate, given the reports about the park’s finances. Quote: “the partners he had at the time were at fault as they squandered investors’ money and were brought up on charges.”
Finally, the local government permits surrounding additional lakes and water rights in the area made the prospect of opening any separate waterpark difficult. Reportedly, the zoning for the Lake Dolores property was also changed around this time.
As the early 2000s moved into the mid-2000s, it was clear that Rock-a-Hoola was shuttered for good.
The Abandoned Lake Dolores Waterpark
From here, the park moved into its current, “third” stage: the abandoned waterpark.
The park was well-maintained for quite some time. There are relatively few images showing the park abandoned but with slides still present, as it was still secured.
In 2008, skateboarders Rob and Big of the MTV show Rob & Big worked with then-owners to gain permission to film at the site. Permission was granted and they filmed an episode of their skateboard stunt show at the park. This is likely the last film appearance of the park “as it was”. Two weeks after the episode was filmed, the slides were disassembled and shipped to Canada. They were purchased by Cultus Lake in British Columbia (Canada). The Big Bopper, the most notable of these, has been renamed Colossal Canyon.
After this documentary was filmed, the prognosis for the park quickly went downhill. There are increased reports of scrappers and vandalism, broken glass, arson, all the usual suspects. By 2019, of course, anything of value like copper has long been stolen from the place for scrap value. The palm trees haven’t been trimmed or maintained in years. There are literal tumbleweeds blowing around.
The park is located in the heart of the Mojave desert. The place is dry, which is of course ironic for a waterpark. Mold, wood rot, plant growth – the usual suspects in an abandoned building – aren’t factors in this place. Structurally, most of the buildings are going to last for quite a long time.
Over on the hill, that once bright-red Coke sign has long been bleached by the baking hot desert sun. What original signage is left that hasn’t been painted over by graffiti artists also suffers the same fate: faded beyond illegibility, tattered and peeling.
About ten years ago (2009-2011), progress was being made on a full-length documentary; however, no recent progress has been made and the domain name associated with it is now for sale.
Since 2011, efforts have been made to restore the park and open a new, profitable enterprise. The park has transferred hands from one owner to another. Ownership has been stable since 2014, however. A group called Oasis Theme Park is heading the effort to work with the current owner and restore the park, but progress has been slow. The story of what happened or is happening with this group really isn’t clear. There are accusations about money mismanagement by a representative of the owner’s bank, and at the time of this recording, there has been no apparent progress on any park restoration.
This is not surprising, according to the local Newberry Springs Community Alliance. In an op-ed in the local paper back in 2013, they state that they’ve known since 2011 that the Lake Dolores site will never again be a financially viable commercial enterprise.
Their reasoning does make sense.
When Lake Dolores opened, it was the first commercial waterpark and there was no competition. It was nothing to drive two hours from a major city to and from Lake Dolores. Now in 2019, there is a large competing market for water parks, and the remote location two hours from either Las Vegas or Los Angeles is unlikely to draw the crowds necessary to profit. Attitudes are different.
The area “amenities” that once seemed convenient are still three miles away, and still a little far. The Shell gas station is still there with its convenience store, but the Stuckey’s sits across the road, abandoned. There is a burger place by the gas station now, however – progress since the 1960s!
Media Appearances for Lake Dolores
The park has been the backdrop or feature for a number of other media productions.
In 2012, Mercedes-Benz sponsored another skate film, entitled “Kilian Martin: Altered Route”.
In 2013, art group TrustoCorp turned the park into “TrustoLand”, repainting most of the signs and buildings. This began the current endless cycle of graffiti at the park that can be seen today.
Also in 2013, the group Boards of Canada debuted their Tomorrow’s Harvest album with a release at the abandoned park. A series of clues preempted the release, including satellite images, a distorted commercial for the park, and lat/long coordinates.
In 2014, the park was used as a Top Gear America obstacle course and an Operation Lion Claws airsoft course.
2015 saw the park featured in a BMW Mini Cooper commercial, and in the music video “Reapers” by the band Muse.
In 2016 the park appeared on an episode of Abandoned by the Viceland network.
And of course, there are countless urban exploration videos that you can see on YouTube, all filmed post-slide removal, showing the increasingly demolished waterpark.
Summing Up Lake Dolores
The story of Lake Dolores Waterpark is the story of three different parks.
We’ve got the abandoned waterpark of the current era – smashed, destroyed, an eyesore rotting away in the desert that is unlikely to be restored.
The story of the modern vision of the park (Rock-a-Hoola and Discovery) is really a tragedy. Christenson and his family put heart and soul into the park. To have the story turn sour on unethical partners and mountains of debt is nothing but heartbreaking.
Finally, the story of the original scrappy Lake Dolores is that of family, good memories, and wild times. The original Lake Dolores could never have existed in our modern era of safety regulations, but we do have photos and stories to help recapture and revisit those days.
The slides were for so many years a landmark to those commuting on the I-15. Lake Dolores is well-remembered by the large family (many children, grandchildren, and cousins) who were brought together each summer by the waterpark.
There are incredible stories online of the wild times people experienced at Lake Dolores. But it was also remembered for the people who created it: the Byers family who came together every summer to run the park, and the patriarch and matriarch, Bob and Dolores Byers.
Penny Byers: “I can’t believe people are still talking about Lake Dolores. The middle of the desert, middle of nowhere was the best place for the lake. My grandparents are gone but I am happy to see that their legend lives on, they were great people. ”
Millie, a cousin: “Bob flew small planes, could sing with a gorgeous voice, was quite a business man and a wonderful uncle. Dee is forever a part of my heart.”
Going into this episode, I was drawn in as always by the images of the abandoned park. But it’s the story of the original Lake Dolores and the people who built it that have stuck out to me the most. It truly seems like it was a one of a kind memorable experience. In the words of a former visitor: “To me, it was the coolest, happiest, most magical place on earth. ”
Remember that what you’ve read is a podcast! A link is included at the top of the page. Listen to more episodes of The Abandoned Carousel on your favorite platform: Apple Podcasts | Google Podcasts | Spotify | RadioPublic | TuneIn | Overcast | Pocket Casts | Castro. Support the podcast on Patreon for extra content! Comment below to share your thoughts – as Lucy Maud Montgomery once said, nothing is ever really lost to us, as long as we remember it.
References
I’ve included a complete list of references used while researching this topic. It’s hidden under the link for brevity.
