Photo Essay: Dormant, Ignored San Jose Carousel Waits Patiently For Riders to Return

I've visited a handful of ill-fated carousels in my day—ones that are in disrepair or threatened with demolition and have survived fire and years in storage. 

 

Photo Essay: A Swim on a Sea Creature Carousel [Updated for 2026]

[Last updated 4/24/26 3:47 PM PT—Sadly, the King Triton carousel on Paradise Pier (now called Pixar Pier) at Disney's California Adventure theme park closed in 2018 and was replaced in 2019 by Jessie's Critter Carousel, with a Toy Story theme. Jump to the bottom of this post ⬇️ for a photo.]

I've ridden a few carousels in my day.



And although I tend to prefer the antique ones, I can't resist a good modern menagerie collection that stands out from other contemporary carousel designs.



The LA Zoo's "Conservation Carousel," where you get to take a ride on various endangered animals (a gorilla, a bald eagle), is noteworthy...



...but at Disney California Adventure's King Triton Carousel on Paradise Pier...



...you get to take a "swim" with various sea creatures.

Photo Essay: A Carousel Horse of a Different Color in San Diego

When my friend and I were planning our overnight visit to San Diego on the Pullman Sleeper train, I had only two "must-see" destinations on my list.

First, I wanted to visit the latest tiki bar to open, False Idol.



And second, I wanted to finally ride the carousel at Seaport Village.

At some point, you might wonder what sets any given carousel apart from all the rest—vintage or contemporary, merry-go-round or menagerie.



But the more I ride, the more faces I see...



...the more creatures I encounter...



...and the more expressions I behold.



This Charles Looff carousel from 1895 is unique not only in its history—having made the rounds from Texas to Santa Monica, the Pacific Northwest, Burbank, and finally to San Diego—but in its particular expression of the master woodcarver's unique "Coney Island" style.



These horses have a lot of different faces—both human and animal—crammed onto the cantles of their saddles.



Not only that, but it's only the white horses that jump—many three astride, rather than all the jumpers being showcased on the outer ring of carousel animals (as was often the tradition in turn-of-the-last-century amusements of this ilk).



Whether you're on a moving or stationary animal, the ride starts out deceptively and unsettlingly slow, begging the question as to the sturdiness of the mechanics.



After all, the interior musical instrumentation—including the band organ—is gone, and its operators have resorted to playing carousel music on CD.



But once this carousel starts going 'round, it really revs up and gives you a wild ride at 25 mph (at least, at its peak).



It's been at Seaport Village now since 2004, but it actually went through a thorough restoration back in 1991, when it was nearly a century old.



Some of the figures look newer than others, but that's likely because the animals in the menagerie are actually something of a hodgepodge.



At some point over the course of time, as the carousel got moved and moved again, its Looff-carved horses and other creatures got jumbled up with those from other manufacturers.



The carousel has since been restored to all-Looff carvings, but not necessarily all the original ones from this particular carousel, created in this particular year.



And while some of the horses are outright labeled as "Out of Order," and others show wear and tear in a range of severity (including their natural horsehair tails, some of which droop lifelessly)...



...at least that means people are still riding the thing and enjoying it.

I'm always suspicious of a car that looks like it's never been driven or cushions that appear to have never provided a seat.

Climb the horse, clutch its ears, pull its tail, bang the drum, sing the songs, grab the ring.

These things are meant to be enjoyed. They won't last forever—but better they succumb to throngs of monstrous children than to fires, storms, or development.

Originally opened in 1980, Seaport Village—like Ports O'Call in San Pedro—is slated for a major makeover at some point in the near future. Local developers have lost interest in vintage—or, "outdated"—attractions.

And that has put the fate of this carousel in jeopardy.

Hopefully, if it does get the axe, its owners and the developers will have the sensitivity to relocate it where more people can enjoy it, rather than dismantling it and selling off its individual parts.

Related Posts:
Photo Essay: Taking a Spin Into the Last Century in Balboa Park
Photo Essay: The 100 Year-Old Herschell 3-Abreast Carousel, Santa Barbara
Photo Essay: The Faces of The Santa Monica Pier Carousel
Photo Essay: Wayward Carousel Horses & Other Creatures

Photo Essay: The Dead Mall of the Carousel (Updated for 2024)

[Last updated 3/31/24 4:36 PM PT—Carousel Mall was completely demolished in Fall 2023. Recent photos of the cleared site were added to the bottom of this post.]

I grew up with a generation that was obsessed with the mall. When my sister and I were little, our dad used to bring us on the occasional day trip to a mall in some other city – maybe Utica – for a little mall tourism. We didn't even have to buy anything. We could just walk around.

It was a great escape from the summer heat while my dad was at work, the perfect spot to meet my friends and not have to spend any money, and even a great date place. You could get dinner and a movie. You could get your ears pierced, your hair cut, and your nails done, and then get your portrait taken.

And, starting in the early 1990s, you could ride a carousel.

In Syracuse, when Carousel Center opened, it was a big deal. It was the first time that a mall had really embraced its identity as an amusement park – just as commercialistic, with just as much walking around. All it needed was a ride to complement your Orange Julius, popcorn, and ice cream.

Tourists starting coming down from Canada just to shop at Carousel. And seeing the revenue-generating potential, other malls, like Shoppingtown, followed suit and installed their own merry-go-rounds.

But it wasn't quite the same: Carousel Center was built around a 1909 carousel by the Philadelphia Toboggen Company, which had spent the greater part of the 20th century at amusement parks in Kentucky, Massachusetts, and Pennsylvania, and in Upstate New York parks. I didn't know it was historic when I rode it on Maria's 16th birthday. I just knew I loved it.



Another Carousel Mall popped up around the same time, across the country: but it wasn't a new mall, just a rebranding of the Central City Mall in San Bernardino, California. Built in 1972, Central City Mall was part of a major revitalization plan for historic downtown San Bernardino, directly across from the Civic Center and incorporating the historic Harris Company building, which had been there since 1927.

Photo Essay: The 100 Year-Old Herschell 3-Abreast Carousel, Santa Barbara (Relocated to Oregon as of 2017)

UPDATE 3/22/18 6:36 PM: As of December 2017, this attraction is permanently closed at the Chase Palm Park location. The carousel itself has been relocated to Oregon and has returned to the possession of Historic Carousels, Inc., which is planning on including the 3-abreast Herschell in its carousel museum, due to open in 2019.

Here's what I wrote upon my first and only visit a couple of years ago:

I'm interested in visiting pretty much any merry-go-round I can find...



...but of particular interest are those that are antiques as many as 100 years old...



...like the one in Chase Palm Park in Santa Barbara.

Photo Essay: A Los Angeles Carousel Has Made San Francisco's Golden Gate Park Its Home for Over 80 Years

This is just so typically me. 

I go years (or decades) without visiting a place—and then as soon as I go back once, I end up going back a bunch of times. 

Because it's so easy for me to shift my attention elsewhere. But once something gets back into the front of my mind, I realize how much I've missed out on. 

Such is the case with San Francisco. 

I was just there in January, after having not really been there since 2006—save for a couple of hours two years ago—and ever since, I've been itching to go back. 

This time, California Preservation Foundation's Doors Open California program gave me the perfect excuse to return. 

But first, I had a lot of places to cross off my list. 

 

Take Golden Gate Park, for instance. It feels very much like San Francisco's version of Central Park in New York, with meandering paths and sprawling lawns and a few historic points of interest—including its own vintage carousel. 

Photo Essay: Twice Around the 105-Year-Old #1 Special at the Herschell Carrousel Factory Museum

Despite having grown up in Syracuse, New York, I hadn't been to the Buffalo area since I was 5 years old, when my family visited my uncle in the town of Lockport and crossed the border into Canada to visit Niagara Falls and Marineland. 

 

So, last week, after having flown in an airplane for the first time since the beginning of the pandemic to visit Syracuse for the first time in years, I decided to avoid a layover at JFK Airport and fly direct into Buffalo-Niagara Airport—conveniently located near a bucket-list attraction for me, the Herschell Carrousel Factory Museum in the town of North Tonawanda. 

Photo Essay: The Manufacturing of Midway Magic at Herschell Carrousel Factory in Western New York

Over 3,000 hand-carved, wooden carousels were manufactured at the Herschell Carrousel Factory in North Tonawanda, New York. 

That was from 1915—when it moved into the former home of King Lumber Company—until 1953, when the company was sold and moved from the suburbs into the city of Buffalo proper. 

 

Photo Essay: The Coney Island Carousel in Central Park

"The thing with kids is, if they want to grab for the gold ring, you have to let them do it, and not say anything. If they fall off, they fall off..." — Holden Caulfield, The Catcher in the Rye

I've got a lot of brass rings to try to grab in New York City still.



There are a lot of carousels there that I haven't made it to yet.



I don't remember ever even seeing one in Flushing Meadows-Corona Park; and I never made it to Forest Park in Queens. And, in my defense, the Sea Glass Carousel and Jane's Carousel both opened after I'd moved to California.



So, on my last trip to NYC, I found myself outside the wrought iron fence of the Friedsam Memorial Carousel, one of the "Scenic Landmarks" of Central Park...

...and—with a turntable measuring 50 feet in diameter—one of the largest carousels in the country (with some of the largest horses).



The current Central Park Carousel is actually the fourth one to be located more or less on this site at the south end of the park, in the former "children's district" near West 64th Street, just down the way from Tavern on the Green and Sheep's Meadow.



It was crafted in 1908 by two Jewish immigrant woodcarvers from Russia, Solomon Stein and Harry Goldstein, who'd partnered in their Artistic Carousel Manufacturing Company of Williamsburg, Brooklyn.



They gave the carousel a pair of decorative chariots...

...and 57 hand-carved horses (52 of which are jumpers).



Of course, the first Central Park Carousel in 1871 was actually powered by real horses (and a mule).



The subsequent two burned down (which happened far too often).



This one, though, had stayed in Brooklyn for over 40 years, spending its last decade or so abandoned in an old BMT trolley terminal in Coney Island until it was donated to Central Park in 1951.



The music comes courtesy of a Ruth und Sohn band organ from Germany with 86 keys, two drums, a tambourine, and cymbals. It plays 20 paper roll records of waltzes, marches, and polkas.



The Central Park Carousel was restored in 1990, giving a little new polish to its flamboyant, bejeweled horses with big heads and giant teeth, characteristic of the "Coney Island style" made most famous by Charles Looff.

With a carousel career that really only lasted about a decade (at which time the "Golden Age" was coming to an end), Stein and Goldstein made less than 20 carousels. There isn't much of their work left out there to ride besides the Central Park Carousel (except perhaps the King Arthur Carrousel at Disneyland).

But it actually feels like I've got too many carousels to ride, while I can still climb up there (and not surpass the weight limit) and while they're still around.

There's still a chance that any of them could burn down or be washed away in floods or monsoons.

Maybe I can't get to them all, but I don't want to know.

So don't say anything.

Related Posts:
A Change of Heart in Central Park
Photo Essay: The Faces of the Griffith Park Merry-Go-Round

Photo Essay: Wayward Carousel Horses & Other Creatures

The more I think I'm alone in the world, the more I find people who like the same things I do—and sometimes, way more than I do.



I've been fascinated with antique carousels for a while—at least since Carousel Mall opened in Syracuse while I was in high school. But even when I took a road trip to Newport and Providence, Rhode Island with my sister back in 2002, the only tourist stop I insisted on visiting was the 1895 Looff carousel in Crescent Park.

Photo Essay: Riding Every Carousel, Long Beach Pike Edition

I first remember spotting the carousel at the Pike in Long Beach in 2013, on my way to the Aquarium of the Pacific with a friend—one who was too cool for ferris wheels and merry-go-rounds. 

 

I figured I'd get around to going back—and I'm sure I did at some point, but I also remember getting a good look at it when it wasn't operating in 2021, during Covid shutdowns. 

Photo Essay: The Faces of The Santa Monica Pier Carousel

I'd had my eye on that carousel on the Santa Monica Pier for a while.

But I was always in a hurry, or with someone not quite as young-at-heart as I am, so it took me a while to get inside the historic carousel building once known as Loof's Hippodrome, to ride this one: Philadelphia Toboggan Company's #62 carousel, built 1922, relocated from Venice in 1947, the third carousel in this place.



My first ride, a few weeks ago during the Glow festival, didn't go very well.



I'd waited in line for a while, and, unbeknownst to me, in my scurry to mount any of the 44 horses, chose one that didn't move up and down. What's the point of a merry-go-round horse that only goes 'round?!



So, remarking on the beauty of the horses and their intricate carvings, I vowed to return for a proper up-and-down ride, which I finally got today.



Again, upon my return, I swiftly chose a horse - this time focusing on selecting an inside "jumper" (of which there are 28) rather than an outer, stationary one (of which there are 16), not paying much attention to its color or style.



But once I was on it and looked down, I realized I wasn't atop a horse at all:



...it was a goat!



Horns and all.



Apparently when the older horses need to retire, they are replaced by new creations courtesy of artist Ed Roth, who, out of deference to the other horses, replace them only with other animals.



Apparently, at one time there was (or maybe is?) a triceratops (which I couldn't find), but once that carousel starts spinning, you can really only see horses.



No two horses on this carousel are alike.



They all sport different scarves and sashes and hooves and coats and bridles.



Most of them are open-mouthed, chompers glaring, ready to race.



Their eyes appear gentle...



...some looking up, others casting their gaze downwards...



...breathing heavily, tongues wagging.



And then you realize:



...they're smiling.



These fierce beasts are mighty...



...but they're friendly.



They even let a heavy old lady like me ride them with no children in tow.



And they do not complain.



They do not whinney.



They merely gallop along to the sound of a Wurlitzer organ, an automated band that plays a prescribed soundtrack, spinning forever in circles, at least, until the music stops.



When I dismounted my goat, I thought I'd go for another round. After buying another ticket and queuing up again, I noticed another non-equine wild beast hidden amongst the horses: a rabbit. Next in line with no one behind me, and the rabbit already occupied, I asked the ticket-taker if I could wait until the next time so I could ride the bunny. She nodded, and when my turn came and the gate was opened, she called out to me, "Go get that bunny..."



I got him, and he is magnificent.



There's something familiar and comforting to me about riding a merry-go-round, even though I don't really remember doing it as a child, not until my teenage years at Carousel Center (whose PTC #18 was manufactured in 1909 and installed upon the mall's opening in 1990, when I was 15).



There was something unfamiliar and thrilling today about riding a goat and a rabbit in circles in a landmarked building - pretty much the last of its kind, having survived fire and threats of demolition, age, wear and tear.

Some older guys had come just to watch the carousel spin, and some children were there for birthday parties, but they weren't riding the animals.

If I was going to the carousel, I was going to ride. And if I was going to ride, I was going to do it right, and ride a goat and a rabbit.

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Photo Essay: The Faces of Bonnie Springs Ranch, Old Nevada