The Lilly Belle

by Steve DeGaetano, contributing writer

Slowly and gently, the steam-powered passenger train drifts to a halt at the imposing brick station. The engine's bell has ceased its clanging, and the locomotive hisses and groans, anxious to continue its journey. Passengers scurry off the trains with loved ones in tow, while excited others clamber on board to grab a place on the hard wooden seats in the crowded coach.

After calmly presenting your specially engraved ticket to the blue-vested conductor on the station platform, however, you are cordially escorted to the rear of the train, to a deep burgundy-colored car, varnished to a high gloss with bright red and dark green trim. The conductor fishes around embarrassingly in his vest pocket, but eventually he draws out a shiny brass key on a round ring. Inserting the key into the keyhole below the polished brass door knob of the car, the conductor turns it once, and then turns the knob. Once the door opens, you climb the car's steps, the conductor lending gentle assistance at your elbow. Your fellow passengers in the penultimate car look on enviously as you stand on the car's platform. Then you cross the threshold and into the car. As the conductor shuts the door behind you, passengers standing nearby on the station platform can see what's written on the brass plate affixed to the bright red door panel: Lilly Belle.

This is her story.

To begin, we really should have some sort of historical context with which to view the Lilly Belle, and to understand private cars, we should know something about them. George Mortimer Pullman did not invent the idea of luxurious rail travel, but he certainly perfected it. Known more for improvements to the sleeping car, in the late 19th century his Pullman Palace Car Company also built hundreds of private cars during the great age of trains.

Observation car, parlor car, private car—what's the difference between all these conveyances? They were all variations on a theme: That of showcasing all that a railroad had to offer to its most influential passengers. Far from being least, these cars were the last ones in a passenger train, bringing up the rear as cabooses did on freight trains.

Riding in style on the Southern Pacific's Sunset Limited at the turn of the 19th century. Love the hats. Photo provided by Steve DeGaetano.

Generally, "observation" cars referred to the car placed on the tail end of a passenger train. At the turn of the 19th century, observation cars generally featured large rear windows where passengers could watch the passing scenery. Before the advent of the modern streamline enclosed tailcar in the 1930s, the typical rear car's most striking and discernable feature, however, was an elaborate wrought-iron or brass railing, surrounding an open rear deck where elegantly dressed ladies and tuxedoed gentlemen passengers could sip champagne or a chilled ale while sitting on wicker chairs and watching the countryside and tracks pass by in a mesmerizing blur.

What the view looked like from the platform. The conductor was there to tend to the passengers' every need. Photos provided by Steve

Sometimes these cars were also called "parlor"cars, reflecting the typical 19th century parlor that graced many homes of the era, where folks could "sit a spell"and enjoy one another's company. Parlor cars, however, did not necessarily include the rear deck, and could sometimes be found mid-train.

For sheer luxury and glamour, however, the "private"rail car was the most opulent way for men of power and wealth to travel.

There were actually three types of private cars: Those chartered from the Pullman Company, similar to today's private jets; those assigned to various railroad officials as "business"cars, providing comfortable office and living quarters to be used when the officials were out inspecting the line, and those privately owned by a corporation or an individual.

The railing shown here on the Northern Pacific's Oriental Limited may have been the inspiration for the railing seen on the Lilly Belle. Photo provided by Steve DeGaetano.

These private conveyances were called "Palaces on Rails." As written in Rails Across America (William L. Withuhn, Editor), "The private railroad car has always been a status symbol for aristocracy and the extravagantly wealthy. A veritable land yacht on wheels." And indeed they were. Private railroad cars represented the apex of car design and luxury during the golden era of rail travel in America. According to Rails Across America, "The cars themselves were the finest examples of the car builder's art, with décor borrowed from the latest hotels and restaurants. Inlaid wood, japanning, French polishing, carvings tapestries and plush upholstery typified Pullman Palace Car interiors." The history of the private railroad car goes back nearly as far as rail travel itself. Abraham Lincoln owned one of the first private railroad cars, but a Southern assassin would see that its only use would be in transporting Lincoln's body back to Illinois for burial.

The Lackawanna Railroad's fictional spokeswoman, Phoebe Snow, enjoys the passing scenery from her train's observation car. Photo provided by Steve DeGaetano.

Another Midwesterner and a railroad magnate on a small scale who would pass from this earth a century after the Great Emancipator, Walt Disney may have wanted a private car to ride on his personal railroad, but unfortunately, like Lincoln, he too did not live to see that dream become a reality. But as a consolation, Walt Disney got to "play trains" on a scale few of us will ever know.

In 1954 when Walt Disney was designing the railroad for his first theme park in Anaheim, California, his idea was to have two trains representing two different eras, and portraying two different types of trains. One train would be patterned after the freight trains that sped across the Great Plains, carrying cattle and freight to Eastern markets. This train would feature a balloon-stacked steam locomotive looking like a wood burner from the 1870s, and its rolling stock would consist of stock cars and gondolas. The final car of the original six-car train would be an authentic caboose, the little car at the end of freight trains that had an elevated "lookout" area, called a "cupola," where the conductor or brakeman could keep an eye on the train.

The second train conceived by Walt would be an 1880s passenger train, pulled by a brass cap-stacked speed queen of the 1890s. The cars would be modeled on typical open-platform coaches of the era, and the train would also be six cars in length. Master Disney draftsman Eddie Sargeant began laying out engineering drawings of this passenger train on August 14, 1954, and they were all constructed in an identical fashion inside a soundstage at the Disney Studios in Burbank, CA. The entire set of cars cost $93,332 to build—nearly double what it cost to build the freight train.

All the cars were built with steel beam under frames, while the interiors and exteriors would be built of wood, just as the prototypes were. Outside, they would be sheathed in tongue-and-groove siding, while inside, mahogany would be used to panel the walls and ceilings. The "trucks" (wheelsets and frames) and other related hardware were purchased from a supplier of railroad equipment in Seattle called the C.M. Lovsted Co. Speakers were installed in each end of the cars, and flush-mounted lamps were placed in the ceiling. The doors on the cars' ends would feature unusual arched tops, and the upper "clerestory" roof would highlight a versatile material that was finding wide use at the young theme park: Frosted fiberglass panels would replace expensive glass in these upper windows.

One of the faux-brass ceiling lamps used on Disneyland's first passenger cars. Photo provided by Steve DeGaetano.

The cars were painted a canary yellow, with bright red doors and window sashes. Dark hunter green trim was used on the corner posts of the cars, with gold scrollwork. The letter board above the windows was also painted with the hunter green, and lettered "Santa Fe & Disneyland R.R." The cars had salmon-colored roofs, and the trucks were painted an olive green, with red wheels.

An unusual view of Retlaw 1, featuring the observation car Grand Canyon, around 1957. Photo provided by Steve DeGaetano.

The entire train set was known by cast members as "Retlaw1," in reference to Walt's personal company that operated the Disneyland trains, and each car bore a name as well as a number. The original and only sponsor of the Disneyland trains from 1955 through 1974 was the venerable Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Ry., and the cars' names would reflect that sponsorship. The first car was a combination baggage car and coach, called a "combine" and named Wells Fargo Express, No. 101. Following that would be four coaches, with passenger seating throughout. These cars were No. 102 Navajo Chief, No. 103 Colorado Rockies, No. 104 Land of Pueblos, and No. 105 Painted Desert.

Bringing up the rear was a car that differed subtly from the four coaches that preceded it. The car was numbered 106, and it bore the stately name Grand Canyon.

The Grand Canyon would be the train's observation car, and its designers knew to include the graceful wrought-iron railing on the rear that typified that style of car. But the car differed from its siblings in other ways as well.

Instead of simply painting the car's name on the sides in straight block lettering, as was done with the previous cars, Disney applied the name in large, flowing letters, as if they were on a banner. In between the words "Grand" and "Canyon," there was a large oval vignette of the famed chasm, in brilliant color.

A rare color view of Retlaw 1 on Opening Day. Grand Canyon's distinctive window pattern can be seen, as well as the oval vignette showing the car's namesake canyon. Research to date has not produced a clear view of the painting.

The car's window treatment was different from the others was well, with six sets of large double windows on each side, instead of the coaches' rows of 12 small single windows. Inside, the seating was arranged with seats along the walls of the car. The "bench" seats were built four seats abreast, with passengers facing the central aisle of the car, and each other, as opposed to the standard front-facing "school bus" seating that was used in the other cars of the train. The car's rear observation deck was shaded by a green-and-white striped awning; and while the deck was surely inviting to passengers, a brass sign affixed to the door was discouraging in its message: "Passengers Are Not Allowed To Stand On The Platform." Hanging on the car's rear railing was the train's "drumhead," a circular, lighted tailsign. The drumhead on Grand Canyon bore the name of the train, "Santa Fe & Disneyland Limited," surrounding the typical Santa Fe cross, and a yellow stylized rendition of Sleeping Beauty Castle. Often, a pair of railroad signal lanterns rested on the deck near the railing.

The passenger train of the Santa Fe & Disneyland Limited was the pride of the fleet for several years, but times were changing. Issues arose in the mid-1960s with the addition of the Primeval World diorama. The cars had very small windows, and made viewing the pageantry of the Pleistocene difficult for many guests. Additionally, the cars were hard to load and unload, since each passenger had to go through one of each car's two doors, single file. The recently acquired "Holiday" cars, with their sideways-facing seats and larger entryways eventually caused the park to remove the Retlaw 1 passenger train from general service. The cars were used only on rare occasions, usually during rainy or cold weather, and the cars of Retlaw 1 made their final run around the park on a gloomy, drizzly day in 1974. In that year as well, the Santa Fe dropped its sponsorship, and the railroad simply became the Disneyland Railroad we know today. After that, Walt Disney's wonderful yellow passenger cars were unceremoniously put into storage in the back of the Disneyland roundhouse—Grand Canyon among them.

As luck would have it, there would be a reprieve for the most glorious car on the Disneyland Railroad, however. The car had a champion.

The late Ken Kohler began his Disney career in the mid-1950s as a conductor on the Santa Fe & Disneyland Railroad. Through the years, Kohler rose to the rank of Superintendent of Monorail/Steam Train Maintenance. While a controversial figure among those who worked for him in the roundhouse, he nonetheless had the foresight to see that there might be a future for Grand Canyon. In 1974, Ken Kohler had one whopper of an idea.

Ken Kohler, left, discusses operations with a brakeman (a now-obsolete cast member position that would equate today with a conductor) and another Disney executive. Photo provided by Steve DeGaetano.

In that year, America was quickly gearing up for its 1976 Bicentennial celebration, only two years away. Kohler had the idea that perhaps car 106, Grand Canyon, could be revived as a "Bicentennial Car," decked out with red-white-and-blue bunting. Eventually, according to a Disneyland newsletter, Ken's idea evolved into a plan to rebuild her as an elegant private railcar for distinguished guests.

According to Michael Broggie's book, Walt Disney's Railroad Story, "Bill Cottrell, Retlaw's president, liked the idea; the work was begun in July 1974 to completely renovate the coach."

This drawing by Preston Nirattisai, shows the differing window arrangements on both sides of the car. Photo provided by Steve DeGaetano.

Along with a complete restoration, the car would receive a new name as well. Borrowing the tradition of naming ships after women, it was decided to give the car a lady's name, and no one deserved the honor more that Lillian Disney. So, the car would be re-christened Lilly Belle, as Walt would no doubt have wished.

Work on redesigning the car began in earnest. According to Kohler, "There are no set rules for building a private car. They were all built to individual tastes."As written in an undated Disney memo of the time that may have been used for cast member training, titled Preliminary Notes and Fact Sheet for Railroad Car #106 "Lilly Belle," "The concept of the private car was carefully planned with Mrs. Lillian Disney Truyens to carry out the theme and the personal taste with memorabilia of Walt's interest in trains."All of the restoration work was done under Cottrell's personal direction. Research was conducted using books on private rail cars of the era, with the understanding that the car should reflect the personal tastes of the owner. Walt had a great interest in the Victorian era, and as such, a strong Victorian theme resulted in the car's decoration.

Some of the Victorian "bric-a-brac" that was installed in the car to contribute to the theme. Photo by Matt Walker.

The actual rebuild of the car began by completely gutting the interior. The seats were removed, and the linoleum flooring was ripped out. The Preliminary Notes states that the crew, "Start[ed] with a red Victorian carpet with a rose pattern as a first stage of refurbishing the train." Some of the original four-abreast seats were reupholstered in a deep claret mohair to complement the décor. Externally, one of the double sets of windows on the left side of the car were paneled over, giving that side of the car a non-symmetrical look typical of 19th century private cars.

The floor plan of the Lilly Belle as it was originally conceived. The four-seat bench on the right has been replaced with free-standing chairs. Drawing by Preston Nirattisai.

Broggie continues, "The interior mahogany paneling was sanded and varnished, and Victorian gold leaf designs were stenciled onto the curved ceiling panels." Outside, the car was given a coat of luxurious burgundy paint, followed by coats of varnish to give it a high gloss. The name of the car was placed on the center of the car sides, outlined in a dark green frame. The dark green trim was also used on the railings and corner posts, and the gold scrollwork that had adorned the car when it was known as Grand Canyon was re-applied.

Craftsmen install the ceiling stencil to an unidentified Retlaw 1 car in 1955. This same design was resurrected for the transformation of the Grand Canyon into the Lilly Belle. Photo provided by Steve DeGaetano.

A photocopy of a Disney-written article in my possession, unfortunately with title obscured by a Post-It fax transmittal memo, further describes the work: "Claret velvet drapes were hung at the windows and four beveled mirrors were set above the windows. Rimming the car, at ceiling level, are twelve stained-glass panels," finally replacing the fiberglass of an earlier era.

In this photo one can see the colorful skylights in the clerestory, a well as the complex stenciling applied to the ceiling panels. Photo by Matt Walker.

The article continues: "A Victorian settee and side chairs were added after buying them at auction. Marble-topped tables are used to conceal the lighting controls and various switches. Victorian bric-a-brac and old Disney family pictures hang on the walls." The Preliminary Notes tells us that "collages of railroad passes and memorabilia of Walt's miniature railroad system and the Santa Fe and Disneyland Railroad [were installed]. Early photos of Walt and his family in gold leaf frames are on the walls of the car." The centerpiece of the displays was the little yellow 1/8th scale caboose from Walt's backyard railroad, the Carolwood Pacific. Nearby a guestbook with custom stationary could be signed by passengers of the car.

A page from the Lilly Belle's guest book. Photo provided by Steve DeGaetano.

A large gold-framed mirror was installed where the two windows on the left side had been paneled over, flanked on each side by brass wall lamps, and in front of the mirror was a larger marble table. Interestingly, the curtains were hung only on the car's left-side windows and end windows; the windows on the park-facing side of the car were left un-obscured by drapery, to allow for better park and diorama viewing. The brass plaques that had warned passengers not to stand on the platform were removed and new custom-cast brass plates, which used an actual antique railroad pattern, and bearing the car's new name, Lilly Belle, were installed on the car doors. The 37.75-foot-long car could comfortably seat about 15 people.

Originally, the Lilly Belle name plates were made of brass, but because they often "disappeared," brass-plated fiberglass plates were eventually substituted. Photo by Matt Walker

Rumors, unsubstantiated at this writing, allude to a stained glass window installed in the rear door, making use of the same colors that appear in the clerestory skylights, depicting Mickey Mouse. Out on the observation deck, a steamer trunk without a bottom was used to cover the 12-volt batteries that were used to supply power to the car, and on the railing was hung a new drumhead, bearing the words: Disneyland Railroad—Holiday.

From the beginning, the car was a hit. It was virtually unrecognizable as being from Retlaw 1; the only indication being that she kept her original number, 106. The first VIP guests on board the car, according to Broggie, were Japanese Emperor Hirohito and his wife, who were on an official visit to the United States in honor of the Bicentennial. A mock-up of the car's observation deck, complete with brass lanterns and drumhead, was constructed in the Polaroid store on Main Street, and guests could dress in period costumes to have their photo taken aboard the ersatz private car.

Most families may not have been able to ride the Lilly Belle, but they could at least get a picture on board a mock Lilly Belle platform. Proper Victorian attire was optional. From the summer, 1982 guidebook. Photo provided by Steve DeGaetano.

In 1976, the car was known as the Bicentennial Special and Presidential Car, but now it is simply known as the Presidential Car. Befitting it's stature as a private car, the Lilly Belle could only be ridden by Disney company executives or dignitaries. On rare occasions, the car would be made available to others with proper credentials. Special tickets were issued, resurrecting the ornate artwork of the E.P. Ripley that had graced Santa Fe & Disneyland tickets in the mid-1950s. Some of these tickets were facsimile "signed" by Lillian Disney, while others were blank. A Retlaw executive pass could also gain the bearer admittance.

Of course, there was one person who didn't need a pass of any kind to board the car. Bill Colley, a Disneyland Railroad conductor in the early 1980s, remembers, "I had been with Retlaw for about six months in the spring of 1980 and had been trained on the Monorails after the Steam Trains. I was working the Monorail shift when I was requested to change my costume and report to Steam Trains as they were short-handed. Everything was going great, as usual. About six hours into the shift, Train Control, Steam Train Lead, received a call that we were about to have a very important VIP arrive at main Street station for a trip on the Lilly Belle. Well, the VI-VIP was none other than Lillian Disney herself, and everyone started jumping! The Lilly Belle arrived at Main Street and we boarded Mrs. Disney and her party. We all were on our best Retlaw behavior. Needless to say Retlaw Supervisor Paul Legg was there to oversee the procedure. WOW! What a thrill for me to get to see Mrs. Disney! I will never forget that!"

Front and rear view of the special ticket that one needed to board the Lilly Belle. This one was unfortunately "voided" by Disney.

What was it like to ride in the car? Steve Burns, who operates (link), a Web site with quite a bit of Disneyland Railroad information, got to ride the car as a finalist in the Disney Store National Trivia contest. He recalls:

I knew the Lilly Belle's history of being one of the original passenger cars on the Santa Fe and Disneyland Railroad, which was then turned into a luxury VIP car. I had even seen a few pictures. But I was still amazed at the elegance of it all—the comfortable furniture, the dark colors, the pictures of Walt. I felt that it was a true honor to be riding in this railcar. I wondered if people could see us through the windows, asking themselves who we might be to get to ride in style, knowing that royalty and dignitaries had also ridden in the same way in the same car.

I enjoyed the fact that the railroad narration could be heard in the car, although it seemed to be a slightly lower volume than in the regular cars. The windows seemed rather small, which made me more aware of why Walt ordered that open-air cars be constructed to give guests a better view of the park as they were riding. Still, it was enjoyable to sit in this enclosed car, looking out the windows, taking in the scenery, and knowing that I was riding in a piece of history.

Brass lamps flank the rear door, while in the corners, small fans are situated to provide suitable Victorian "air-conditioned comfort"on warm days. Photo by Matt Walker

Matt Walker, proprietor of (link), had a similar experience, also as a Disney Store Trivia Contest finalist:

Certainly, you felt like a VIP getting to go through the red door with the brass nameplate attached while other guests wondered why they couldn't do the same. I fully understood that feeling, so often being the person on the outside looking in. But here I was taking a seat in the private parlor car, awaiting the all-clear signal allowing us to pull away from the Main Street Station.

My favorite thing that I remember about riding in the Lilly Belle was looking at the personal photos of Walt and his family that adorned the walls of the car. These weren't the standard images that we had seen time and time again of "Uncle Walt" addressing the public at an event or through the television camera. But rather they were intimate portraits of a family man and—dare I say—a regular guy.

The red Victorian décor was very similar to how Walt's apartment above the fire station and Club 33 are decorated. Though these areas are not generally available to the park's guests, their commonality is very much an example of how the concept of theme is carried out through all areas of Disneyland. Fake flowers and a few suitcases piled up on one another as a prop were some of the things that reminded me that I wasn't on board just any railroad coach, but one that was deliberately put together to satisfy the back story created for it.

The Lilly Belle was usually attached to the tail end of the Holiday Blue cars (those with blue striped awnings, numbered in the 500 series), but could occasionally be seen trailing the Holiday Green as well. The car held up for several years, but 20 years later, things were beginning to fall into disrepair.

As described in the November 15, 1996 issue of the Disneyland Line, "Last September, the Lilly Belle presidential car of the Disneyland Railroadwas pulled off-line and put into rehab to restore and improve both the exterior and interior of the car, bringing it up to a 'presidential' level."The restoration team consisted of Main Street Attractions Assistant Managers Steve Arneson and Pro Trias; John McClure, and folks from Decorating, including Christine Goosman in Concept/Show Design, and members of the Disneyland Design Studio, including Kim Irvine, Tracey Sheldon, Bill Moore, Tracy Trinast and Michael Volchok.

Disney Store Trivia Contestants relax aboard the Lilly Belle. Photo by Matt Walker

Externally, the car's platforms were repainted, and yellow safety tape was applied to the steps. Internally, the furniture was reupholstered, and a new carpet was installed. According to the Line, "Several new personal pictures of Walt Disney and his family from the Disney Archives are on display. Many of the original lamps were replaced or repaired to their original appearance, and silk roses and old-fashioned luggage were added to the décor."

A photo of Walt, surrounded by daughters Sharon and Diane, graces one of the Lilly Belle's walls. Photo by Matt Walker.

After this rehab, the car soldiered on several more years. But with every passing year, a new problem was festering under the surface: Dry Rot.

The car's wooden construction had survived decades of use, but now, the effects of moisture were beginning to take their toll. The exterior wood was becoming brittle and fragile, and in the late 1990s the car was once again removed from the line.

Unfortunately, those in charge of the park were not too keen on spending a veritable trainload of money to restore a car that few guests would ever experience. Even some pragmatic roundhouse cast members considered the car "dead weight"that added unnecessary tonnage to their trains, continuing to tax their already maxed-out little locomotives. And so, once again, the stately observation car of the Disneyland Railroad was quietly stored away, out of sight, in the back of the roundhouse. There, she remained for several years, seemingly forgotten.

Various attempts by cast members to work on the car themselves came and went, and were sometimes the cause of inter-union disputes. Who should rebuild the car? The roundhouse crew, who primarily belonged to boiler or machinist unions, or Disney's union carpenters? All the while, the car continued to deteriorate, with one cast member commenting that the wood siding was so depleted in some areas that he could easily "put a finger" though the material. Many guests may not have missed the car, but there were a significant number of knowledgeable fans who wondered about the beloved car that had so much history. Frequently, Disney-oriented Internet message boards had threads that asked "What's the condition of the Lilly Belle?" or "Where's the Lilly Belle?" Clearly, folks missed her.

Everything changed in late April 2005, however. The Disneyland Resort had a new president in Matt Ouimet, who understood far more than his predecessors the importance of "show" and "plussing" attractions. Ouimet was at the park participating in a ceremony for Disney Legend and animator Ollie Johnston on May 12, 2005. At the conclusion of the ceremony, Ouimet was on his way back to the Team Disney Anaheim building, but made a detour to the roundhouse. He strolled up to the cast members in the roundhouse, and, according to one cast member on-site, he made a simple, straight-forward request: "I want to see the Lilly Belle." Several additional inspections followed. Folks knew things were getting serious when a representative of Retlaw was asked to provide photographs of the car's interior, so that an accurate reconstruction could take place.

One of the few products manufactured to commemorate the Lilly Belle. This is a large-scale car produced by model train manufacturer LGB.

Things happened rather fast after that. In the early summer, while the Disneyland roundhouse was preparing their newest locomotive, Ward Kimball, to debut, plans were under way to have the Lilly Belle sent off-site for a complete rebuild. In August, a contract had been signed with R.B. Builders of Camarillo, California, and the lovely Presidential car was trucked to the facility to begin her five-month rebuild. The September 9, 2005 issue of the Disneyland Line contained an article on the progress, noting that the work "encompasses new siding and roof, refurbished mechanical equipment and new exterior paint and signage. Inside, new carpet and refinished paneling and furniture will complete the restoration."

As of this writing, it is anticipated that the car will arrive back on Disneyland rails before Christmas, 2005, essentially book-ending a year heavy with Disneyland Railroad news.

The Lilly Belle departs Frontierland Station in the mid-1990s.

The Preliminary Notes give us a brief account of Disney's interest in having a private car of his own:

Shortly after Disneyland opened, Walt told his wife Lillian that he would like to build a parlor car. It would be great to ride outside on the Santa Fe and Disneyland Railroad studying landscape, buildings, etc. Maybe have lunch on the train, discuss plans for future ideas of Disneyland. All of this came as a result of Walt's great enthusiasm for trains. Now the open car from the first passenger train has been converted into an elegant parlor car, or the President car, so named in honor of the first president of the Disneyland Railroad, who was Walt Disney.

Today, nearly 30 years after the Lilly Belle first took to the rails, we look forward to once again seeing her at the tail end of one of the trains. While not all of us may get to ride her, we can all appreciate the elegance of the car, and revel in the history she represents. Long may the Lilly Belle ride the rails of the Disneyland Railroad!