“Mama, do you think going to an IMAX theatre would make you dizzy?” our son, Jamie, asked. We would be seeing them in Ft. Worth in a few days, and he was lining up some activities he thought we might enjoy. It was entirely too hot to do much outside, and the IMAX sounded cool and inviting. I assured him I would be fine, since I hadn’t been troubled in over a year by the vertigo symptoms of Meniere’s syndrome that had plagued me several times in past years.
I had been so looking forward to this adventure. We would drive the hundred miles or so to the Amtrak station, then take a train ride on the Heartland Express to Ft. Worth, where they would meet us. Since they would be in the area for a few days’ vacation, it was a perfect chance for us to get together without our driving all the way to Houston.
We thoroughly enjoyed the last leg of our journey, relaxing to the rhythm of the rails and watching the scenery go by outside the wide windows of the dining car or from our reclining coach seats. The beautiful Washita river sprawled wide and shallow, angling along beside the train for miles, giving glimpses of cranes and other wildlife. I’m sure an animal I saw making its way into the woods was a small, black bear. A few miles back, I had seen a coyote slipping along a fence line in a drought-parched pasture.
Now after a nice lunch with our family at the Cowtown Diner in picturesque Sundance Square, here we were at the imposing Ft. Worth Museum of Science and History where the IMAX theatre was located. I cringed a little at the sight of the stairs leading up to it, but they were wide, shallow steps that weren’t too difficult for my just-getting-well left knee that had been the bane of my summer.
I gasped when we got inside and I saw the huge, domed theatre with seats ascending almost as high as Mt. Everest in the film we would be watching. No way could I sit close to the front of this giant screen that curved overhead as far as I could see, but getting a seat compatible with my farsighted vision meant climbing farther up. Not only that, walking along the ledge in front of our upturned seats with nothing to hold on to would require all my balancing skills. The seat backs in front of us were recessed at feet level and I could see myself plunging down below and beyond. What was I thinking?
“Mama, just close your eyes if you need to,” Jamie warned, after I had already read the precaution on the screen that there was a “Quiet Room” to go to if one felt disoriented. I could see why, when the movie started with a terrifying aerial view of Ft. Worth as we took a virtual airborne tour of the city, zooming in from dizzying heights and just as quickly zooming out. But that was nothing compared to EVEREST, as we watched climbers teeter on ladders stretched across unfathomable depths or hang from walls of ice over chasms below.
It was a remarkable story of courage and bravery (misplaced though it was, in my opinion) to conquer near-insurmountable obstacles and climb to the top of the world. Climbers risked life and limb, some dying to lie frozen forever on the desolate peaks of the mountain. The real-life hero of the story did reach his goal. But sadly, he gave thanks to the goddess of the sky instead of the God who made the heavens and the earth. By the time the exciting presentation was over and we exited at the top of the theatre, I felt I had climbed Mt. Everest and survived!
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