ORANGE COUNTY VOICES : Uplifting Tribute to a Local Rite of Passage : Landmarks: It seems as if everyone rode Disneyland’s Skyway from the polyester-clad world of Tommorowland to the kinder and gentler Fantasyland.

Disneyland has closed down one of its landmark rides, Skyway.

Just the very mention of its name evokes so many memories: from stealing kisses high above the madding crowd on Grad Night to showering unsuspecting fellow guests below with candy or popcorn. And from what I’ve gathered over the years, Skyway was a shared experience, perhaps even a rite of passage for most who grew up in Southern California.

But for me it will always be a little more special. As a youngster I dreamed of working at “The Happiest Place on Earth,” and as a college student I was granted that wish. My mom used to say “be careful what you wish for--you might get it,” and so it was that I joined the Legion of the Mouse. Not as the wisecracking Jungle Cruise guide that I had hoped to be, but instead as one of the few, the proud, the pseudo-Swiss costumed Skyway Boys.

Yes, that same ride (or “attraction” as it is properly referred to by all Disney University graduates) where I terrorized tourists as a child, raining hard candies down upon their noggins, was to become my home for several summers and holidays. Call it karma . . . cosmic payback . . . my mom also used to say “God punishes” whenever we did something wrong and got away with it in the present--we were sure to get it later, and I did.

Along the way I pulled kids off the ride who were swinging the suspended cabins so hard you’d think they were going to pull the line off the towers holding them up. We chewed out kids who spit on the guests below--they were known as “expectorators.” And on a few occasions I had to call a security officer over to lecture kids who were beaning guests with their projectiles of choice. (It was nice to see that the hard, lemon candies were still a weapon of tradition.)

Everyone rode Skyway. We got the chance to meet stars, beauty queens, top athletes and a multitude of international visitors. Some of us prided ourselves on being able to say, “Please step out (of the ride) and watch your head” in several different languages. We also had the opportunity to clean out the ride when people left dirty diapers behind; deal with irate guests who thought drugs and alcoholic beverages were part of the in-flight service, and put up with some union old-timers who regarded seasonal workers about the same as gum on the bottom of their shoes.

Yet Skyway became one of the best experiences of my life (is that a pitiful commentary on it?). It was a place where friendships were born, havoc was raised and little epiphanies were realized.

Skyway, where ski lift-type gondolas--or buckets--carried passengers high above the teeming park floor below, from the polyester-clad world of Tommorowland to the kinder and gentler Fantasyland. It was one of the few glimpses of reality that guests could enjoy during their visits.

Up above the world so high, people in the buckets could see behind the facades and beyond the fences that blocked out life’s ugly realities. I never thought it took away anything from the atmosphere, it only made the inside a little more special. You appreciated the fantasy a little more.

But hey, let’s not get maudlin here. After all, it’s just a ride, er, I mean attraction. It’s not like the time someone stole Mr. Lincoln’s parts.

So now the Imagineers, engineers and Disney accountants scramble to pack away a part of the park’s great heritage, adding it to a list that includes such greats as Mike Fink’s Keel Boats, America the Beautiful, Rocket to the Moon and the completely forgotten mule ride (you could smell the stench all the way over in Garden Grove).

I’m sorry to see it go--it breaks my heart. I still have an old bag of hard candies I never used.