Nathan Ward says in his essay on Brooklyn in this issue that one in seven American families has its roots in that borough’s soil. This sort of claim is a fact-checker’s nightmare, but nobody can deny the powerful hold that Brooklyn has on the national imagination.
It colonized mine in a curious way long before I ever set foot there. I became obsessed with Coney Island when I was about 10 years old. I had no reason even to think about Coney. I was a Westchester County boy, but all I wanted was to go to Steeplechase Park.