In 1917, it stood 98 feet tall, and it stood alone.

Wild One, as it’s now known, was the world’s tallest roller coaster when it opened at a park outside Boston. Over the years, it weathered a massive fire, a relocation to Maryland, and a century of the U.S. economy’s ups and downs.

But the nation’s oldest operating coaster might meet its end in the wake of a massive corporate merger and “portfolio optimization.”

Six Flags America in Bowie, home to Wild One and eight other coasters, was stamped a “noncore” property this year by its parent company, which is selling the 523-acre tract. Unless a buyer decides to keep the long-neglected park open, it will close for good Nov. 2.

Last year, Six Flags and Cedar Fair, whose assets included Ohio’s Cedar Point, teamed up for the largest merger in amusement park history. At least initially, all of the combined corporation’s 42 properties will survive — except Six Flags America, Maryland’s largest roller coaster park, and its attached waterpark.

The Bowie site has entertained millions of visitors over its 50 years as a wildlife preserve and amusement park under various owners. It does not have the most dazzling coasters, nor the highest attendance, but it’s treasured by those who spent birthdays, launched careers or even got married there.

Sam Marks and Al Clowe, who met there, had their wedding atop Wild One in 2013. The coaster was stopped on top of a hill, where they were married by a man known as “the Roller Coaster Reverend.”

“Today, it sounds stupid,” he said, “but at the time, I was like, well, the Wild One has stood the test of time, and hopefully our marriage will stand the test of time.”

Instead, Six Flags might be paving their paradise — to put up something more valuable than a parking lot.

Six Flags declined to make local or national executives available for interviews. But recent earnings calls from the $3 billion company have made plans plain: The Bowie park is expendable, and cashing in on lucrative land near Washington makes better financial sense than continuing to run it.

Selling Six Flags America, plus excess land at King’s Dominion in Virginia, could easily net “north of a couple of hundred million dollars,” Chief Financial Officer Brian Witherow said in May.

The company needs the money. Attendance at its parks is down and its financial results are suffering this year. Its CEO is stepping down.

A buyer could keep the Bowie site as an amusement park, but any number of developments, including another entertainment venture, seem more likely. Prince George’s County officials wield zoning power and have specified they want economic activity, rather than residential development.

Redevelopment would mean the nearly 5 miles of roller coasters would be scrapped, taken apart and relocated to other Six Flag properties, or sold to rival parks.

That would mark a sorrowful denouement for longtime visitors, who often speak of Six Flags America like a misbehaving mutt. Sure, it has its problems, and no, it isn’t perfect.

But it’s their park.

A wild ride

It wouldn’t be the first time the site liquidated its attractions.

In the mid-1970s, future presidential candidate and billionaire Ross Perot bankrolled a drive-through safari that was eventually sold to television network ABC. But by 1976, the oddity closed and its owners tried to hawk the the animals to zoos.

“Lions are hard to sell,” one organizer explained.

New owners tried another animal-focused venture, then a water park, before pivoting to a park with both coasters and water rides. Wild One arrived in 1986.

When the park became Six Flags America in 1998, the company proudly advertised $30 million in new attractions.

“You’re going to have roller coaster technology that you just don’t have anywhere else,” a park official promised.

That’s far from the case today.

After a flurry of investment 25 years ago — including adding fan favorites like Batwing, which places riders in a prone position and simulates flight, and Superman: Ride of Steel, which tops out at 73 mph — the park hasn’t received a brand new coaster. Instead, it’s twice received hand-me-down coasters from the more prosperous Six Flags Great America in Illinois.

Six Flags struggled in the 2000s, filing for bankruptcy in 2009 under the guidance of executive chairman Dan Snyder, former owner of the Washington Commanders.

Dionté Henderson — lead engineer on Universal Orlando’s VelociCoaster, considered by some the top coaster in the world — got his start at Six Flags America, working there in 2014 and 2015.

He wondered why the park, located in a major metropolitan area, struggled with attendance, and noticed the neglect as other regional theme parks upgraded.

“There wasn’t the same capital investment of the cutting-edge nature,” he said.

Still, some coaster aficionados have flown in this summer to see the park before it closes. Andy Stein drove seven hours from his West Virginia home last month. Visiting on a weekday, he found a “ghost town” with no lines, he said.

Six Flags keeps park-by-park revenue and attendance numbers close to the vest, but earnings calls and interviews with theme park fans and former employees suggest the Bowie site is among its lower performers.

Baltimore native Jacob Ferrandi worked there as a ride operator during the summer of 2018 and loved it. It was a coaster fanatic’s dream; before or after his shift, he could hop on a couple of rides.

Ferrandi now works in Florida for a company that constructs amusement park artwork. He’s ridden over 400 coasters in 100 parks, including 18 on an 18-day European trip last year.

But at Six Flags America, he noticed a particular lack of interest and investment. He often saw cheap remedies at the shabby park, like painting over eyesores rather than fixing them.

“The landlord special,” he said.

Jon Rolf, an Anne Arundel County resident who’s visited Six Flags America more than 100 times, said it often felt like attendees were “slighted.” Still, he’s among those hopeful the park will continue under new ownership, though he knows that’s unlikely.

When Ferrandi went to Six Flags America for the final time this summer, he took a last look.

“I hope it’s a mercy killing,” he said. “I hope something better comes out of it.”

Too big to succeed?

Over 90% of Six Flags’ revenue comes from fewer than 40% of its parks. And Six Flags America doesn’t appear to be one of them.

After the merger — and repeated use of the word “synergies” by executives — few were surprised when Six Flags America got the ax.

“It seemed like the obvious choice,” said Elizabeth Ringas, president of the American Coaster Enthusiasts, who describes the park as a “local treasure.”

One mark against the site was its sheer acreage.

The park itself is average-sized, but hundreds of its acres are undeveloped. Of the 21 parks Six Flags owns — it leases the rest — Bowie is the 5th largest. That size, roughly the same as Disneyland in California, makes it an even more attractive parcel.

“It’s sitting on a pot of gold,” Henderson said. “That puts a bigger target on it.”

The closing continues an industry trend. As the biggest parks — think Walt Disney World — grow, and smaller attractions compete for entertainment dollars, parks in the middle are getting hollowed out, said Won Kim, founder of The Park Database, which compiles data for the attractions industry.

“It’s Universal and Disney kind of eating everybody’s lunch,” Kim said.

To better compete with those mega-parks, Cedar Fair and the original Six Flags company entered into what they called a “merger of equals.”

A season pass for all Six Flags parks costs a little more than $100 — generally cheaper than a one-day ticket to a major Disney park.

Six Flags recently eliminated some jobs and is now trying to sell more season passes (the bulk of attendees have passes, rather than single-day tickets), and increase revenue from concessions and merchandise, while operating on a condensed calendar compared to rivals in Florida and California.

The new company, which took on the Six Flags name but Cedar Fair’s “FUN” stock ticker, pitched investors in May on a “Great Reset” plan, but now it’s walking back those expectations.

During an earnings call this month, analysts questioned the pivot.

“We’re going to wait to reassess our long-term guidance until early next year,” replied outgoing CEO Richard Zimmerman as the company’s stock dropped over 20% in one day.

While Six Flags steadies itself, other parks could be on the chopping block.

King’s Dominion doesn’t appear in danger of closure, but its excess land is for sale, and a park in California might close in 2027. Executives said they’re evaluating other properties, too.

Six Flags hired commercial real estate giant CBRE to market the Bowie property.

But there are limitations on that land’s use.

The next act

Rezoning the land as a residential development would be a nonstarter, said Prince George’s County Council member Wala Blegay, who represents the park’s district.

The county already has plenty of residences, she said, and no one is going to travel down the Beltway for a shopping center. The county will soon lose the Washington Commanders, too, and officials crave economic activity.

“This is 500 acres,” Blegay said. ”You can dream with this much acreage.”

That could mean a pro sports complex, a resort, conference center or some other entertainment venture, she said.

Company executives have publicly said they’re working quickly to sell the land, and Blegay said she imagines it will be sold by next month.

Six Flags may want to avoid selling to an entity interested in maintaining the coasters, since it has other parks nearby. A rival in Bowie could cut into attendance at King’s Dominion — 100 miles south — or two Six Flags parks roughly a four-hour drive north. But, Blegay said, the company hasn’t ruled out the possibility.

County Executive Aisha Braveboy hopes a future enterprise there would operate year-round with a “higher and more impactful” land use than an amusement park.

Amusement parks are occasionally abandoned, such as Six Flags New Orleans, which closed after Hurricane Katrina in 2005 and only recently was demolished. That probably won’t happen with Six Flags America.

“Interest from buyers and developers has been high,” Six Flags Entertainment spokesperson Kristin Fitzgerald said in a statement.

Asked about the park’s potential demise, devoted fans muse about would-be saviors.

“I carry a small hope,” said Ringas, “partially because that’s how I sleep at night.”

Brichette Reid, of Washington, keeps a spreadsheet of all the 307-and-counting coasters she’s ridden, but Six Flags America will always be her “forever home park.” When it closes, she might cry.

“I’m not a very emotional person,” she said, “but I’ve also never been put in a position where I’m losing something that means so much to me.”

In 2018, American Coaster Enthusiasts christened Wild One a “Roller Coaster Landmark” — one of only 51 with that distinction.

If the park is no more, that likely means the end for Wild One, too, since relocating such an old attraction would be challenging.

To soak it all in, Ben Gleockler went on what he called a “Wild One marathon” on Friday, riding the classic coaster 11 times in one day — before it was shut down for maintenance. Afterward, he spent time with his family and friends and their kids on other rides, making new memories.

“Man, that’s what it’s all about,” he said.

The next day, National Roller Coaster Day, a group of American Coaster Enthusiasts, including Marks and Clowe who got married on Wild One, gathered at the park, as did alumni of the site’s many iterations over the years.

Lines were short, sometimes only a few minutes for a coaster, and parking plentiful, but much was left to be desired.

Some coasters, like Batwing and Superman, were closed. One ride got stuck. Beverage cups at the spartan food court didn’t come with lids or straws.

That didn’t seem to bother the families or friends who laughed or argued or planned out where in the park they’d visit next.

Wild One is still a thrill. The cherished, century-old coaster speeds you up to 60 mph on a sprawling wooden track that bisects the park, offering 360-degree views of other coasters over two roaring minutes.

It’s imperfect, and the bumpy ride tells you it probably needs some upgrades, but as you round the final turn, you hope for another lap, or at least one more drop.

Instead, it brakes to a halt.