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Crazy days inside a robot

There's plenty of hoopla over the newest "Star Wars" movie.

I'm glad to see it."Star Wars" is special to me because the release of the original movie in 1977 figured into my early career at Hess's of Allentown.The sprawling department store was nicknamed "Hollywood on Hamilton."I was hired as a full-time employee in Hess's advertising and public relations department in the 1970s. With more than 70 employees in my unit, it was the largest in-house ad agency outside of New York City. And probably the most creative, too.I joined the staff before the "Star Wars" premiere, an especially exciting time.Trading on the hubbub, Hess's acquired a life-size robot and had it shipped to Ninth and Hamilton.The dazzling robot sported flashing lights and weird sounds. It could travel, talk and even answer questions on command.But there was a catch: all of those tasks had to be engineered by somebody hidden inside.Hess's trained me to do it, a thrilling opportunity and an adventure in multitasking. Here's how it worked.The robot was cleverly built around a motorized wheelchair.The monstrosity featured a hidden hatch at the rear which afforded just enough access for my 125-pound frame.It carried car batteries to power the head, arms, lights and sounds.Inside it was hot and cramped, with little or no ventilation.The robot was used at special events at Hess's mall locations where it'd travel store aisles and visit with shoppers and news media.Onlookers were invited to ask questions. The robot would respond through a modulator which made the voice sound electronic.Questions were typically trivia-based."What's the capital of Turkey?""What's the square root of 789?"The trick was to be fast with answers by using a dictionary, reference guides, calculator and lots of creativity.It was a fascinating experience and I reveled in it.But it also had drawbacks. As mentioned, the robot's interior chamber was uncomfortably warm. Plus, I wasn't permitted to use the escape hatch unless I steered the contraption far away from the eyes of the public.One time the batteries failed during a crowded event. Personnel from store security surrounded the robot so that I could secretly crawl out, just in time for a gasp of fresh air.When I changed careers and left Hess's, the robot and I parted ways. I moved from Allentown to the Scranton area.Hess's was sold and eventually closed several years later.I didn't attend the liquidation auction when the flagship store was abandoned.That was a big mistake on my part. I should've been on hand. As a result, I never found out what happened to the robot.Was it sold to a museum or collector? Or maybe junked at a scrapyard? I'd like to know where it is.In fact, I'd like to crawl inside one more time.I'd still fit at the controls even though I've gained weight.And I'd still remember how to operate it, even after nearly 40 years.Looking back, the robot was the best toy this little boy ever played with.I often reminisce about those special days at center city Hess's of Hamilton Mall.It was there I came to better understand the nature of creativity and inspiration.Creativity is a marketable skill and a gift that never stops giving. It's an asset to be cherished forever.I learned much during my Hess's years.Most of all, Hess's taught me it's OK to stay a kid.It's perfectly fine to remain a little boy and play with toys.Youth is too special to leave behind, and growing up is overrated. So don't do it.Never lose touch with your inner child.If your heart is young, every day is Christmas.

The robot and I were based at Hess's flagship store at Ninth and Hamilton in Allentown. This photo was taken in 1977 when Hess's sent me to Harrisburg East Mall for a weeklong event. The identity of the children is unknown.