When Walt Disney wanted to put something in Disneyland that moved, the Imagineer he turned to most often was "Bobby"—Bob Gurr.

During the late 1950s, the Walt Disney Company was entering uncharted waters and a great, big beautiful tomorrow was just a dream away. Walt Disney was dreaming big and thinking very much outside the box. Creating Disneyland was nice, he seemed to be saying, but how can we make it better? Bob Gurr was often the man Walt called on to turn his seemingly impossible ideas into reality. “Bobby,” Walt would say when an idea was germinating in his fertile imagination, “see what you can do with this…”

Gurr said, “During the time of developing the little Autopia car, Walt wanted an antique car on Main Street, so I designed the first one in the first year Disneyland was open. Then he wanted to have a double-decker omnibus for Main Street, so I did that a little later in 1956. Then, in 1957, we built another antique car and another omnibus, then the following year, we built a fire engine.

“In 1958, I was trying to design yet another Autopia car and design the monorail and design the submarine and also do the Matterhorn, too. Walt would do that. He’d assign people to multiple projects.” All three major attractions, as well as the Autopia re-do, would debut in June of 1959. The three major projects “all kind of came in overlapping phases,” Gurr said. “The submarines were first. I got really far into that and then got into the Matterhorn. But the monorail, starting in October of 1958, consumed virtually all of my time.”

Gurr was given the task of designing a monorail for Disneyland after the Alweg Company from Germany developed a working prototype, which piqued Walt Disney’s interest. Disney worked out a deal with Alweg, using their basic concept while receiving significant input from his own creative staff, specifically Bob Gurr.

Gurr took drafting tools in hand and designed what is now the very familiar-looking rocket ship-styled nose with a bubble top in front where the driver sits. It looked like something out of the Buck Rogers science fiction genre, which was exactly what Gurr was shooting for. Curiously, Gurr doesn’t believe the monorail, a staple at just about every Disney park worldwide, is the answer to the world’s mass transportation needs. He believes standard rail cars and the newer Maglev technology are faster and more efficient.

“There’s all kinds of compromises with a monorail, but it certainly looks pretty,” he said.

In his book, Design: Just for Fun>, Gurr describes the day the monorail debuted at Disneyland. Vice President Richard Nixon and his family were on hand for the ceremonies. “The first monorail train, the red one, had been assembled on the beamway just two weeks prior to dedication day. Testing had resulted in daily failures followed by all-night fabrication of improved parts.” In fact, the monorail had made just one trouble-free trip around the track…and that was the night before the dedication.

Since there was no time to train monorail drivers, Gurr was the logical choice to be in the driver’s seat for the big day. He was fitted for a monorail driver’s uniform and was at the controls when Walt brought Nixon onto the train, presumably for a quick inspection and nothing else. “Walt described how he always drove the steam locomotives on special occasions, but that he ‘let Bobby drive the modern trains’. Whereupon Walt said “Let’s go!”

It took Bob by complete surprise. A very nervous Gurr—with Disney and Nixon as his lone passengers and the Secret Service agents left in a panic on the platform—pulled the monorail out of the station and began the train’s second trip around the track. In doing so, “Walt and I had kidnapped the Vice President of the United States!”

The monorail beamway passed over the submarine voyage, which proved to be the least problematic of the new attractions Gurr was involved with. The submarines, which gave the illusion of “diving” under the sea, actually move along a guide rail. The ships Gurr designed were made to look like U.S. Navy nuclear subs similar to the USS Nautilus, which had months before made its historic trip under the North Pole.

One of the most impressive attraction designs conjured by Gurr has to be the Matterhorn Bobsleds. As the story goes, Walt returned from the set of the Disney movie Third Man on the Mountain, being filmed in Switzerland, when he hit upon the idea of putting a roller coaster inside a replica of the Matterhorn. Gurr’s first assignment for the attraction was to design the bobsleds which would serve as ride vehicles. Ever the traditionalist, he made them look like authentic Austrian sleds. As Arrow Development was in the process of handling all the engineering aspects of the ride, Gurr’s boss, Roger Broggie, threw this interesting challenge at him: design two sets of coaster tracks to go inside the mountain, which was to be an exact, if scaled-down, replica of the fabled peak.

Take a moment to mull this over: Your assignment is to come up with a design for two coaster tracks inside a fixed mountain (meaning the exterior has to look exactly like the original and can’t be compromised). You have to do it without using a computer, since they weren’t in general use back in the 1950s. And your only experience to date was to design vehicles, whether they were autos, trucks, trains, monorails, or bobsleds.

Prior to the Matterhorn, roller coasters were designed to be outdoors, free of any restrictions; coaster designers of that era pretty much could do whatever they wanted in figuring out their wooden contraptions. Compounding Gurr’s task was that the Matterhorn would use the world’s first tubular steel track.

“We started working together with Arrow Development [Arrow Development was an amusement ride manufacturer located in Mountain View, California. In his book, Gurr explains: ‘The two founders of Arrow, Ed Morgan and Karl Bacon, were absolute design geniuses even though they did not have formal engineering training, but were self-taught machinists.’ Arrow Development had a hand in the design of many classic Disney attractions.] They were going to build the track and I would design the course line of the two different tracks and place them inside the shape of the Matterhorn mountain.”

These days, you can go to DisneyQuest in the Downtown Disney area in Florida or the Sum of All Thrills attraction in Innoventions in Epcot’s Future World and design your own virtual roller coaster with the aid of sophisticated software. Gurr should have been so lucky.

Continued in "On the Disney Beat"!

Having lunch with Marty Sklar is wonderful; having lunch with Marty Sklar in Disneyland's Club 33 is...magical!

On that cold and drizzly Friday, I have to admit, I was getting a little nervous. It was 1:20 in the afternoon. I was standing—actually, pacing back and forth—near the steps of City Hall in Town Square.

Rain was falling pretty steadily, as it had been since daybreak, and it was downright chilly, a far cry from the “warm California sun” we’ve been hearing about for decades. I was scheduled to meet Marty at 1:15 in front of City Hall, a place where his illustrious career is celebrated with a window in his honor on the second floor of the building where he once had an office.

I wouldn’t have blamed Marty if he begged out of lunch that day. He had flown in from Florida the night before, the weather was miserable, and he had a book signing scheduled later that evening at the Barnes & Noble in nearby Fullerton. But just when I was beginning to think he might not show—poof! as if magically conjured up with a wave of Tinker Bell’s wand—there he was, standing with umbrella in one hand, a cane in the other, at the curb in front of City Hall.

We exchanged warm handshakes and chatted briefly before we started to make our way up Main Street. It turns out Marty had made a reservation at the exclusive Club 33 in the New Orleans Square section of the park. Trailing behind us were my wife Janet and our friend Mike Splitstone, a big Disney fan and an even bigger Marty Sklar fan. Mike even presented Marty with a gift—a box of California pearl olives that his company produces.

I was feeling a broad spectrum of emotions as we walked along Main Street—it was a surreal experience, to be sure, and I was both elated and humbled that Marty would take the time to share the afternoon with us. After all, here is a man who walked this same street back on July 17, 1955, when Disneyland first swung open its gates…a man who became Walt Disney’s go-to writer on everything from speeches to scripts to presentations…a man who headed up Walt Disney Imagineering, the company’s heralded creative wing…a man who is universally loved and respected by legions of Disney cast members and fans.

As we made our way past the quaint shops on Main Street, I thanked him for braving the harsh conditions. He shrugged it off. “We don’t usually get this much rain,” he said. I asked him what runs through his mind when he finds himself on the fabled thoroughfare all these years later. “A lot of memories,” he sighed. “A lot of memories…”

I then asked him his thoughts on the passing of Walt Disney’s daughter, Diane Disney Miller, who died just a few days before. “Her health had deteriorated since she fell back in September,” he said. “She had devoted so much of her time and energy to telling her father’s story and preserving his memory at the Walt Disney Family Museum.”

Since November 22, 2013, was the 50th anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, I asked Marty where he was when he heard the news. “Working on the World’s Fair,” he said, adding that everyone was working overtime to ensure that the four Disney shows in production would be ready by opening day a few months later, in April 1964.

When we finally arrived at Club 33, the restaurant’s elevator was out of service, which meant Marty (who turned 80 a few months later) had to make the long climb up the stairs. Undaunted, he left his coat and umbrella with the receptionist and began the trek.

We were seated in the center of the dining room. Needless to say, the staff knew who he was and there were more than a few friendly exchanges, like “How have you been, Marty?” and “Nice to see you again.” We touched on a wide range of topics during the nearly two-hour lunch—with most of the conversation, as you might expect, about all things Disney.

When I told him that he and I and former Disney CFO Jay Rasulo had a unique connection, he seemed very interested.

“I bet you didn’t know that Jay Rasulo grew up on Staten Island,” I said. “He delivered the Staten Island Advance when he was a youngster.” It was Rasulo who tapped Marty to become an international ambassador for Walt Disney Imagineering in 2009 after Marty’s retirement.

I asked Marty if he’d ever sailed on the Disney Cruise Line, and he responded: “Actually, several times. In fact, I’ll be on the DVC members’ cruise in August.” In keeping with DCL’s mission, Marty and his wife, Leah, brought along their entire family—kids and grandkids.

We talked about Club 33, which was conceived by Walt, but didn’t open until after his death. “At the New York World’s Fair, Walt saw how all those companies had private reception areas for their guests, so Walt wanted to build something like that here in Disneyland, so he could entertain VIPs.”

Marty mentioned how Club 33 would be closing soon for renovations. “The kitchen’s too small,” he said. “And it’s a long walk for the staff to get to the dining room.” Upgrades included a larger kitchen and a walkway over Front Street to make the dining room more accessible. Also, the fireplace was removed and a floor-to-ceiling window was installed, allowing guests a prime viewing area for Fantasmic! on the nearby Rivers of America.

At one point during the lunch, Marty pointed out a number of pieces of art on Club 33’s walls. “That one there,” he said as he gestured to a drawing, “and that one over there…they were done by Herb Ryman.”

Marty and Leah have devoted countless hours to Ryman Arts, a non-profit fine arts education program based in Los Angeles and named in honor of the legendary Disney animator, who died in 1989. It is one of southern California’s leading free arts education programs for underserved youth and was founded in 1990 by Lucille Ryman Carroll, Sharon Disney Lund, Harrison A. and Anne Shaw Price, and Marty and Leah Sklar. The organization celebrated its 25th anniversary in 2015, honoring Marty and Leah at a gala fundraising event.

Needless to say, raising funds for the program is a daunting, but necessary task. The Sklars open their house every year to help generate donations. “I don’t play tennis anymore because of my knees, so we converted our tennis court into a reception area,” Marty said.

As the meal drew to a close, Marty tried to pick up the tab, but Janet was one step ahead of him—she made sure that our waitress knew to give her the check. “We women have to stick together,” the waitress told Marty, who laughed and graciously thanked us.

After lunch, we posed for photos with some of Herb’s works serving as a backdrop—priceless keepsakes on so many levels. On the walk back to Town Square, Marty pointed out several long-time residents of Disneyland—in fact, they were on the property even before the park opened. “That one over there,” Marty said as he pointed to a tall tree near the Swiss Family Robinson attraction, “was here on opening day.”

A few steps later, he showed us several other “opening day” trees and explained that many of them were rescued by Disney. It seems when land was being cleared for a nearby freeway, the trees were up for grabs. And since Walt was mortgaged to the hilt to finance Disneyland, “recycling” those trees before they were bulldozed made perfect sense.

“They even set up a tree farm where they could experiment with different types of soil to make sure the trees had the best chance of surviving,” Marty said. Once back on Main Street, Marty made a quick detour into a watch shop. “They have some great watches for sale here, and they’ll customize them any way you want,” he said as he scanned the glass case.

Continued in "On the Disney Beat"!