Coney Island. It’s a staple of New York summers, the picture of Brooklyn tourism, with popsicles and Nathan’s hot dogs and kids in swimsuits laughing up and down the shoreline. “If Paris is France, then Coney Island, between June and September, is the world,” commented 24-year-old George C. Tilyou, words now immortalized in the colorful mural on the boardwalk.
But when the summer turns to fall, which turns to winter, the kids go back to school, the shops close up and the snow begins to blanket the city. The once-packed boardwalk is left deserted. Coney Island in the winter exists much like it does in vintage photos; frozen in time, eerie, lasting, and ephemeral all at once. (more…)