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