Bookpod

As the bus made the turn on 231st Street that separates working-class Kingsbridge from more affluent Riverdale, I spied the slice of excitement I had been craving: A hundred kids were hurtling down Suicide Hill in Ewen Park on plastic flying saucers. The bus blocked out their howls of glee as they wove and spun with abandon around thousands of corners of gravity’s making.

Why hadn’t I thought of that? A plastic flying saucer!