We lost my little brother once at Coney Island when he went back and forth from the shoreline to where we were sitting filling his pail and then his hole and pretty soon it got very crowded and he couldn’t see us. We finally found him at the lost and found still with his pail of water, my mother desparate and crying. That was the last time we went to Coney Island and went to City Island instead, to a more or less deserted part of it. Later, when I hit my teens, I’d go with my friends or my myself.