On the inside
I never recovered.
The Tornado, the Bobsled, the Thunderbolt and the Cyclone - all in one afternoon. Coming of age in Brooklyn in the 50’s. 10 years old and protected by Billy, Dominic, Joey and Corky - my 12 year old chaperones.. Holy crap. Coney Island, the sad morning-after remains of the electric dreams of Dundy, Thompson, Tilyou and Reynolds. Their showmanship and mass-marketing genius only dimly mirrored by the barkers on the Bowery pitching games of skill and chance, and the outside talkers at the freak shows - Step right up.
Steve Markowski Bensonhurst 1945-1966