I guess I fit the “former rides” category as my first memories were always sprung upon my sister and my first cousins and I from the lunch table Grandma’s house. Grandma lived in da hood, but gentrification is not an important bone of contention at seven years young and, to the best of my infant intellect and knowledge, drive-bys weren’t invented yet.
I remember the kiddie boats, The Galaxy and some ride with a purple smiling caterpillar head. It was a great time for me as cutting grass for hours on end for a grape soda and a bologna sandwich was a kinda wack way to spend my summer Saturdays.
I returned years later in my early 20s, and I’m not sure why I was there. I had no kids, I knew no kids, grand-folk long since kicked the bucket. I’m guessing a college break, day trip with my other underachieving droogs and chelovecks all smiley with Maui Wowie.
The changes in terms of the mechanics in the guts of the rides were tremendously improved, no more sideways whiplash as your aquatic or non slammed into the wooden side running boards on every entry into any turn, “made me who I am today” I’d like to say to someone.
It’s not Bush Gardens, it’s not even Cedar Point but for what it’s worth, for the kids, it sure beats doing nuthin’.