My first trip was in the summer of 1976, and I was 5. Our travel party consisted of my mother and stepfather, my uncle and his girlfriend-now his wife, and my grandparents. My grandparents did not like rides so they saw shows and sat around for the most part people-watching. The story of the one ride they did get on, though, has been told a number of times over the years and is still funny to me and a fond memory of my grandfather, who passed away almost two years ago. While the rest of us went on Space Mountain, they went on the PeopleMover, thinking it was a nice way to relax and get out of the heat for a few minutes. At the part where the car passes through the Space Mountain building, though, they heard people screaming and thought they'd gotten on that by mistake, then started looking around for some seat belts to hold them in for what they thought was going to be a wild ride. My grandmother was upset and fussing at my grandfather because she was scared, and though he rarely cursed, my grandfather told her "you're the one who wanted to get on this **** thing." Once they passed through and realized they were safe, they had a good laugh, and I now say the same thing to my husband every time we're on the PeopleMover.