“Before the Mouse: Orlando, 1964” Circa 1964, Central Florida stood on the edge of history, though few realized just how dramatically life was about to change. The summer of 1964 hummed with the familiar rhythm of cicadas and the distant growl of tractors on the orange groves of Central Florida. Orlando was a sleepy town, a modest community rooted in agriculture, cattle, citrus, and quiet living. With a population barely exceeding 88,000, the city center bustled around Church Street Station, and most of the locals knew each other by name—or at least by family reputation. Young mothers pushed baby strollers down brick-paved roads while kids on bicycles tossed rolled-up newspapers into front yards. Men in short-sleeved shirts and wide ties commuted to downtown banks or real estate offices. Teenagers cruised in chrome-finned Chevys and Fords, and radio dials flicked between Elvis and the Beach Boys. The local theater might show Mary Poppins, but the idea that its creators were secre...