I remember a time, back in the 1950s, when my credibility was doubted by one man, and defended by another.
I grew up within walking distance of Coney Island, but even closer to my apartment building, just down the block and across the street, was a small, but to a child, wonderful, amusement park.
I can’t count the times my Grandpa and I would walk down there.
The place was understaffed, with the workers going from ride
to ride. I can’t remember a time when all of the rides were
running at once. I remember waiting by, for example, the tilt-a-whirl
(my all-time favorite ride)… and waiting and waiting and waiting
There was one particular ride which I’d never been on, and really
wanted to try . It’s funny, considering how I longed to ride that
ride, that I have forgotten which one it was.
I was sooooo disappointed when the operator told me that I was too young.
“You have to be in school to go on this ride.”
I answered that I was in school, and the man scolded me for lying.
“But I am in school! I’m in NURSERY school!”
Grandpa told him off for calling me a liar, and then we walked over to another ride.
As much as I loved going with my Grandpa, however, I longed for the time when I would be old enough to go by myself. Like so many other little girls, I wanted, oh HOW I wanted, to be thought of as a BIG girl.
But by the time I was old enough, the rides were gone.
“They paved paradise, and put up a parking lot.”