How 30,000 Feet Changed My Perspective

I came to Buena Vista University as a shy, introverted freshman, from a high school class of ten. I didn’t plan to leave my dorm room except for classes. I never thought I’d do anything big. Now I’ve traveled at 30,000 feet across the country to screen a documentary for which I wrote the script. 

In September 2016, I walked into the Lage TV studio on the campus of BVU expecting to get some free food, then leave. I grabbed a bowl of popcorn and hid in the corner while the BVTV station manager detailed plans for the upcoming year. Jerry Johnson, professor of digital media and faculty advisor of BVTV, approached and asked, “Hey you like to write, don’t you?”

I was startled. “Just because I’m an English major doesn’t mean I like to write,” I thought. I managed to nod slightly. “I mean, I guess,” I said.

That answer launched Jerry into a pitch of a documentary about a cornfield grown in the shape of Mickey Mouse’s profile placed strategically in “fly-over” country so it could be seen from 30,000 feet. “Would you like to write the script?” he asked. I had no idea what made him think a little freshman could do something like that, but I figured it would give me something to do besides hide out and read in the corner of my dorm room.

“Um, sure,” I replied. The next day, Jerry handed me two three-ringed binders, each bigger than my head. They were full of interview transcripts, newspaper articles, and piles of research. I spent hours dissecting documents, sticky-noting every good quote or important piece of information.

I’d gone through every page of each binder three times when it came time to finally crank out the script. I gave myself a week over Christmas break to complete the task. My research, notes, and laptop took over the table in my basement, and I sat from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m, crafting a 30-page, single-spaced story about the Mickey Mouse cornfield that, for the summer of 1988, transformed a patch of north-central Iowa into a must-see site for hundreds of thousands of airline passengers soaring over the state at 30,000 feet.

After editing and revising four drafts of the script that spring, Jerry, a couple of peers, and I traveled to KTIV in Sioux City to record narration by Bruce Scheid, a farm reporting legend for the NBC affiliate. My words felt more powerful as Bruce narrated. Jerry told me to coach Bruce in his narration. Only a college sophomore, I felt unqualified to tell a veteran broadcaster how to speak. Nevertheless, with each spoken line, I gained confidence and started directing the session.

I helped to promote the documentary during the spring of my junior year. Then, on March 28, I sat with the crowd in BVU’s Anderson Auditorium to watch the premiere of Growing Magic: The Mickey Mouse Cornfield Story. My heart fluttered faster than a hummingbird. I had no idea how much of my script made the final cut; I didn’t want to take credit for something that wasn’t mine. I sat at the edge of my seat and waited for the opening credits. I recognized my writing immediately and smiled my way through the rest of the 57-minute film.

Spectacular aerial images from tens of thousands of feet captivated audience members. People came up to me after the film to congratulate me, ask questions, and even to seek my autograph. I met important people like Ted and Judy Pitzenberger, the Mickey Mouse cornfield farmers, and Troy Lindquist, former marketing director of Disneyland and son of Jack Lindquist, who came up with the idea. The unforgettable night was surreal, but the fun wasn’t over.

The next morning, three students who worked on the film, Mason McGrew, Zach Hess, and Jordyn Daggs-Olson, joined Jerry and me on a flight to Orange, California to screen the documentary at Chapman University. The University maintains a relationship with Troy Lindquist and Mimi (Schaaf) Cora, the Disney company liaison for the cornfield project, so they invited us to screen the BVU documentary during their Disney art exhibit and to participate in a question/answer panel about the film. I spoke with Disney fans, BVU alumni, and Mimi Cora, along with her husband, Disney legend Jim Cora. Again, I couldn’t stop smiling. The story I’d been so close to for three years found its way to Southern California.  

The opportunities didn’t end in California. While writing the script, I found my passion for writing—journalistic writing. So, when the chance to learn from some of the best of the best in the field came up, I couldn’t say no. Consequently, two days after I arrived back on campus from the West Coast, I flew to the East Coast for an editor’s workshop at The New York Times.

I soared at 30,000 feet to New York City with my peer, Ella Wiebusch, and we were on our own.  At first, I was nervous about checking in for the flight, getting on the right plane, finding our way to the hotel. I had never flown alone before, and even though I had Ella, she was just as nervous. Suddenly, butterflies evaporated from my stomach while standing in line for security. I felt confident.

We made it to New York City and devoted our first day to sightseeing: Radio City Music Hall, Rockefeller Center, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and Central Park. We practiced street photography and interviewed strangers for a class project.

We spent the next day at the The Times’ headquarters, listening to some of the best reporters and editors in the world. We practiced headline writing, learned about digital storytelling, and discussed issues journalists face today. My favorite part involved an unexpected visit from New York Times columnist Nick Kristof. He told stories about his incredible and dangerous work as a journalist. He has been pursued by war lords, has crashed in an airplane, and has witnessed genocide in Darfur; all because he loves his work and believes in the importance of an informed society based in truth. He reassured me of my career path.

My career path. Journalism. I didn’t see this coming as a shy freshman. Reflecting on the past week during the return flight to Iowa, I realized this: I am no longer that timid, introverted bookworm who planned to spend her college career tucked away in her dorm room. My professors saw potential, and they pushed me out of my comfort zone. Because of their encouragement, I’ll land one day in my chosen field, the one I found at 30,000 feet.

*Originally published in the Cedar County News in Summer 2019.

*Photo courtesy: BVU Marketing and Communications