Of Mice and Men
September 11, 2001. Orlando, Florida. Park duty radios start crackling with urgency all over Disney’s Animal Kingdom. It’s a little after 9 a.m. and the park has just opened to the public when park duty manager Peter LaPorta ’86 (CLAS) is called to an emergency conference in the main office.
There’s been a terrorist attack. He’s told to evacuate the parks — something that has never been done in Walt Disney World’s 30-year history.
“We literally had this box in the guest service office covered in dust,” LaPorta recalls. “It was an emergency kit. I broke open the seal and inside were thousands of park tickets and a guide for steps about what to do.”
Over loudspeakers, guests are instructed to leave the park. LaPorta and other managers line Animal Kingdom’s exit gates, handing out tickets to guests as they leave. The American visitors are “bewildered, shocked, a complete and total mess,” says LaPorta. But foreign guests, particularly those from Europe and Asia who have lived in war-torn countries, are incredulous. “They were just like, ‘What are you guys freaking out about? It’s up in New York.’ They couldn’t understand why we were evacuating the park when all the activity was happening 1,000 miles away.”
In that moment of chaos, LaPorta drew on the one leadership principle that had guided him since his days at UConn: “Stay calm in whatever situation you’re in,” he explains. “I learned that if you become a hot mess, everybody around you is going to be a hot mess.” He tried to inject that calm into the tense situation, telling anxious guests, “We’re not used to this, I’m sorry, but we’re trying to look out for the safety of everybody.”
1982. Connecticut. That ability to remain centered while radiating warmth wasn’t something LaPorta learned in corporate training. It was forged decades earlier in Storrs, where the Bronx-born, Connecticut-raised student arrived in the early 1980s as a music major, playing trombone in the marching band and joining the co-ed music fraternity Tau Beta Sigma.
Soon, though, professors’ harsh reality checks about music careers led him to switch to business, costing him his scholarship. Suddenly responsible for paying his own way through college, LaPorta took a job managing a Burger King. “Everything I learned about leadership, I learned in fast food,” he says, remembering navigating grease fires and robberies. “Don’t discount those experiences for a minute — it’s all trial by fire.”
The marching band’s influence never left him either. “Whether I’m going back to my Disney/Universal experiences, or speaking to a group of 5,000 people, our band’s catchphrase — ‘Talent, Unity, Pride’ — set the tone for my leadership career. I can still feel that magic before we entered the Yale Bowl tunnel to come out on the field.”
Early eighties LaPorta, far right, in UConn Marching Band.
1997. Connecticut/Florida. And speaking of magic: “I always wanted to work for the mouse,” he says. When Disney recruiters told him he’d have a better chance living in Florida, he sold his Connecticut house and moved south.
He joined the opening team of Animal Kingdom in 1998. Working with legendary Imagineer Joe Rohde, LaPorta helped test the guest experience on the rides. “All that goes into a park opening really ignited my passion.”
In 2002, he received Disney’s Partners in Excellence Award — the company’s highest honor — presented to him by Roy Disney Jr. The award recognized his work across guest satisfaction, cast excellence, and business results. “Out of all my accomplishments in life, I treasure that one the most. When the people that you lead say they would follow you into fire, no matter what, that means the world.”
The award citation notes, “He’s built a rapport with many of our cherished friends who keep returning to our resort year after year. Many of these guests come to visit him personally.”
LaPorta’s career includes working on the launch of Disney’s pin-trading program — now a billion-dollar industry — and later managing the chaotic debut of the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios. That opening day saw over 7,000 guests lined up by 8:30 a.m., with some waiting six and a half hours to enter the park. “By 10 o’clock, in June, in the Florida heat, people started dropping like flies because the line’s not moving very fast. We’re calling in ambulances, taking people out because they’re passing out.” All the while, LaPorta radiated calm.
Through every crisis — from 9/11 evacuations to overwhelming crowds — LaPorta handled anything the theme park world threw at him. Then came a challenge that would test his resilience in ways he never imagined.
2009. Florida. LaPorta’s son was diagnosed with autism at age 2. “I didn’t know anything about autism, so I started talking to people who introduced me to that world.” He interviewed families worldwide and wrote “Adventures in Autism,” in part as a healing process.
During our conversation, that son — now 21 — sits nearby, and LaPorta’s face brightens as he occasionally turns to his son with gentle words: “Happy boy!” revealing the same authenticity that made him exceptional even at Disney.
These days, he speaks to corporate audiences about leadership and guest service while continuing his advocacy mission. When not speaking or advocating, he’s writing. His most recent book is “Terror Kingdom,” about a hostage situation at a fictional theme park.
“Success to me is the freedom to continue doing what I love,” he says. “It’s not about money — it’s about touching lives. When somebody comes up to me and says, ‘You changed my life because of your words,’ that just means everything.”
By Tommi Lewis Tilden
Illustration by Michael Byers