Now there's nothing out there but wildlife," Gomez said. "It just looks like an old abandoned cabin. The theme became how an animal habitat was endangered by a fire caused by a careless settler."
While some parents and activists have cheered the changes, many Disney fans fear political correctness is erasing parts of the park's history and charm.
"[It's] kind of silly," said Steve Premo, 47, of Santa Cruz, who complained that Disneyland often is held to an impossibly high standard.
"Ridiculous," scoffed John Vallejo, 39, of Anaheim. "It does nothing. It's caving in to pressure."
But for Disneyland officials, it's all part of the attractions' evolving story lines. Though animal-rights and gun activists didn't picket outside the park, Disney still wanted to be progressive.
"The fact of the matter is, we have to be responsive to what our guests tell us," Gomez said. "At the end of the day, they come here to experience what they want to experience, not stuff they might find out of place or out of date. . . . Anecdotes, jokes and actions that were funny or exciting then may not resonate now."
When the Jungle Cruise opened in 1955 as one of the park's original attractions, it was intended as a true-to-life journey down famous jungle rivers of the world. Over the years, it evolved into a mix of realism and corny jokes. But it remained a popular attraction staffed by "cast members" who fancied themselves stand-up comedians.
Many of those scripted jokes now are memorialized on Web sites paying homage to the eight-minute ride. Guests can often be heard reciting the hokey lines alongside the skippers garbed in khakis and a safari hat.
There are no death-defying thrills here--even the animal effects are incredibly low-tech. A hissing python ("You wouldn't want to be his main squeeze"). Fleeing adventurers being chased up a totem pole ("That rhino seems to be getting his point across, and I'm sure that guy on the bottom will get it in the end!). And frolicking elephants ("Go ahead and take pictures, they're wearing their trunks.").
So when the boat slowed amid a river full of submerged bubble-blowing and ear-wiggling hippos, the skippers would lower their voice to a whisper and pause for effect, before warning: 'We've just entered a pool of dangerous hippopotami. Everybody be very quiet. Quiet."
Then, with perfect timing, a hippo would rise from the water, open-mouthed, teeth bared. The skipper would grab his gun, fire and everybody in the boat would jump.
DeForest still remembers his lines: "Scared 'em. Scared you guys. But like they say, the only real way to stop a hippo from charging is to take away his credit cards."
The jokes remain, but the hippos came and went without fanfare.
At Walt Disney World in Florida, the guns disappeared about the same time its newest park--Animal Kingdom, part zoo, part amusement park--opened in 1998. Officials decided it didn't seem right to have one park promoting wildlife and at the same time have employees at another shooting a wild animal.
"That's better," said Karla Jervis, 35, of Ohio, who recently rode the Jungle Cruise for the first time. " I wouldn't have taken the kids on the ride if it had guns. I don't even buy toy guns."