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A Walk Through the Grove with Alex Porter

At the heart of SkyQuest Park is a story; one that starts not with a press release, but with a person.

Meet Alex Porter: founder, dreamer, and the quiet architect of an experience that’s touched generations. In this candid interview, we sat down beneath the trees at SkyQuest’s Storybook Grove to talk legacy, storytelling, and what it really means to create a place that feels like coming home.

In Conversation: Jesenia Edwards & Alex Porter

Interview Conducted by Jesenia Edwards, PR Strategist, MaximalistPR
Interviewee: Alex Porter, Founder & Owner of SkyQuest Park
Setting: “The Grove” area at SkyQuest Park, under the oaks near the picnic tables

Jesenia Edwards (JE)

Okay, Alex—we're rolling. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.

Alex Porter
(ap)

You say that now, but I know how you PR folks operate. One minute we’re chatting, the next thing I know I’ve got my own press tour.

JE

Well, if you weren’t so charming, that wouldn’t be a problem.

AP

That’s what my wife used to say. Though she usually followed it up with something like, ‘Don’t let it go to your head.’

JE

June sounds like my kind of woman.

AP

She was. Still is, in a lot of ways.

JE

Okay, now you’re getting me emotional, and we’re only two questions in.

AP

You started it.

JE

That's fair. 
Alright, I’m here with the man himself—Alex Porter. The brains, the heart, and—let’s be honest—the walking notepad behind SkyQuest Park. Alex, thanks for letting me pull you away from your walkabout.

AP

You’re welcome, though I do reserve the right to wander mid-interview if inspiration strikes. [laughs]

JE

Totally fair. So let’s start here: most people don’t grow up saying, “I want to build a theme park when I grow up.” Was that ever on your radar?

AP

Not even close. I was the kid sketching set pieces during math class. I wanted to design worlds, not necessarily rollercoasters. But somewhere along the way—probably after a truly miserable visit to a run-down boardwalk—I realized I cared less about the thrill and more about the feeling people were chasing. I thought, “I could do this… better.” But I didn’t have a master plan. Just a hunch and a thing for emotional architecture.

JE

"Emotional architecture." That’s such a perfect way to put it. So was that first park job love at first blueprint?

AP

Hardly. It was gritty. Paint fumes. Broken fences. A cotton candy machine that hissed like a teapot. But there was this one night—I stayed late fixing signage, and I saw this family laughing under a string of half-working lights like it was Main Street, USA. It hit me that if you can make something feel intentional and human, the magic finds its way in—even if the ride’s a little squeaky.

JE

You have this almost poetic lens on things. Do you think that came from your background in theater?

AP

Probably. Theater teaches you that people don’t fall in love with the set—they fall in love with the moment. And the moment only works if everything supports it. So, sure, we’ve got rides. But we’ve also got scent machines, carefully placed benches, and music timed to the speed of foot traffic. It’s not magic. It’s designed to feel like magic.

JE

And it does. You know what’s funny? When I first came to the park, I didn’t expect to feel emotional. I thought, “Oh, this will be cute.” Cut to me tearing up watching a kid hug the park mascot like he’d just met Santa and Spider-Man rolled into one.

AP

We hear that a lot. People come for fun. But they stay because something about the place feels familiar, even if they’ve never been here before.

JE

So let’s talk legacy. It’s been over forty years. Why keep going?

AP

I get asked that more now. Especially since June passed. But truthfully, I still love it. I love hearing a toddler’s gasp when they see the carousel lights. I love watching a jaded teenager accidentally smile during a parade. I love it when a team member has an idea that makes the park better.


And I still carry June with me. She was never in the spotlight, but she shaped this place more than most people know. There’s a lot of her in the quiet corners—little benches under trees, the tone of the welcome signs. She reminded me that not everyone wants to chase thrills. Some people just want to feel at peace. So yeah, I stay. Because she would’ve stayed, too.

JE

I’m going to cry, and I still have two more questions. [laughs] Okay, what’s the biggest thing people misunderstand about SkyQuest?

AP

That it’s small. Or that it’s just a nostalgic local park. They don’t realize how much intention is baked into every part of this place. We’re not Disney, and we’re not trying to be. We’re SkyQuest. We’re intimate. We’re deeply felt. And we make decisions with care, not committees.

JE

Last one—and this one’s selfish. For someone stepping into the park’s story today, what would you say they’re stepping into?

AP

A living storybook. One that’s been told and retold, edited and reimagined, but always with the same core: connection. If you’re here, you’re part of it now. Whether you’re working the front gate, riding the log flume, or pitching the next chapter—you matter. And your presence changes the story, just a little.

JE

That’s beautiful, Alex. And I think people are going to feel that—whether it’s their first visit or their fiftieth.

AP

That’s the goal. Thanks for helping us tell it well.

je

It’s truly my pleasure.
Okay, wait—off the record, but not really. If you could bring back one attraction from the early days of the park, what would it be?

AP

[Laughs] The cornball canoe ride. It leaked. It creaked. It smelled like pond water and popcorn. But every couple thought it was romantic. Go figure. We had to retire it, but I still get letters asking if it’s coming back.

JE

SkyQuest Park: Where even your mildly terrifying water rides get a fan base.

AP

Exactly. Nostalgia is a powerful thing. People remember not just what they saw, but how they felt. That canoe ride? It felt slow and silly and oddly sweet. Sometimes that’s all you need.

JE

Do you think that’s part of the magic of SkyQuest? That softness?

AP

I do. We’re not trying to out-thrill anyone. We’re trying to create space where people can actually feel something. Joy. Ease. Togetherness. You don’t have to scream your head off to feel alive.

JE

Says the man who once approved a rollercoaster that goes through a fake volcano.

AP

[Laughs] Look—I said some people want peace. Others want lava and lasers.

JE

You contain multitudes, Mr. Porter.

AP

Don’t let my staff hear you say that. They'll think I’m going soft.

JE

Final, final question: You’re walking through the park, no agenda, no schedule. Where do you go?

AP

Easy. That quiet bench near the edge of the Storybook Grove. There’s a tree with branches that kind of bend toward the sky—June used to say it looked like it was waving hello. I go there, sit for a while, and just watch people pass by. It reminds me why we built this place.

JE

And now I’m emotional again. You’re not allowed to say things like that without warning, Alex.

AP

Consider yourself warned next time. And bring tissues.

JE

Noted. And seriously, thank you—for your time, for your stories, and for building something that means so much to so many.

AP

Well, it’s never just one person. I may have started it, but SkyQuest became what it is because a lot of good people believed in something a little whimsical. A little weird. A little wonderful.

JE

That's kind of the perfect formula, isn’t it?

AP

If it brings people joy, I’d say it’s working.

JE

I think it’s working just fine.

(Source: ChatGPT)

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