Amusement- Street Rides

Hey everyone, welcome back to *Brooklyn Echoes*, the podcast that keeps the borough’s legends and memories alive. I’m your host, Robert Henriksen.

 In the sweltering summers of 1960s and 1970s Brooklyn, amid the stoop-sitting, hydrant-splashing, and stickball echoes in neighborhoods like Flatbush, Bensonhurst, and Bay Ridge, the arrival of mobile amusement ride trucks was a neighborhood event that lit up kids aged 10 to 18 like fireworks on the Fourth. These weren’t the big-top carnivals or fixed parks like Coney Island; they were roving delights, often old Chevy or Ford flatbeds rumbling block to block, especially during August block parties or lazy weekends. Operators—gruff but friendly guys with toolboxes and candy stashes—would pull up unannounced, horns blaring like ice cream trucks but promising thrills instead of treats. For a dime or quarter scraped from allowances, bottle returns, or odd jobs, young Brooklynites could hop on classics like the Whip, the Sky Swing, the boat ride, the King Kong, and sometimes mini swings or Ferris wheels, all mounted right on the truck beds. These setups turned asphalt streets into temporary fun zones, blending mechanical clanks with the smells of sizzling sausages from block barbecues and the distant rumble of the subway. It was a gritty, urban slice of joy in an era of transistor radios, Vietnam drafts, and city blackouts, fostering independence as teens biked across avenues chasing rumors of a truck’s next stop.

The Whip was the star attraction for many, a jolting classic that had kids lining up as soon as the truck’s brakes squealed to a halt on a residential block. In the mid-1960s, a 10- or 11-year-old might spot the truck from a fire escape, its faded panels painted with cowboys or speed demons unfolding to reveal the oval track and cars. Mounted on the flatbed, the ride snapped riders side to side at the curves, building speed on straightaways for that signature “whip” effect that left stomachs flipping and laughter echoing off brownstones. Safety was minimal—a lap bar at best—and the operator would rev the engine, shouting “Hold on tight!” over the clattering machinery. For tweens around 12 or 13, it was a daredevil social hub, friends squeezing into cars to compete on who could ride without gripping the bar, while the scent of diesel mixed with cotton candy from nearby vendors. By the early 1970s, as 15- to 16-year-olds sought edgier fun amid the city’s grit, the Whip became a nostalgic staple at block parties, where whole families gathered, parents sipping beers from lawn chairs. These trucks roamed from Flatlands Avenue to Kings Highway, setting up for an hour or two before packing up and vanishing, leaving kids dizzy and begging for one more go.

Equally thrilling was the Sky Swing, often called the “yo-yo” or “chair swing,” which brought an aerial rush to the streets, dangling seats from chains on a spinning frame lifted by the truck’s hydraulics. In the late 1960s, a curious 12-year-old in Bensonhurst might hear the truck’s generator humming from down the block, drawing a crowd of neighborhood kids to where it parked near a corner store. The ride started low, seats swinging gently as it built speed, then tilted upward for that soaring sensation, wind whipping through hair and lifting feet high above the pavement. It felt like flying over the rooftops, with glimpses of the Verrazano Bridge or distant Manhattan lights on evening setups. Teens around 14 or 15 treated it like a rite of passage, daring each other to swing outward the farthest, shrieks mixing with calliope tunes from a built-in speaker. Operators sometimes tossed free frozen ices in plastic tubes to waiting kids, adding to the charm. In the 1970s, as economic squeezes made such visits rarer, 17- to 18-year-olds flocked to these pop-ups for a break from high school hustles, perhaps sharing a first awkward flirt in the brief lulls between spins. The Sky Swing trucks frequented areas like Flatlands or Sheepshead Bay, transforming quiet streets into hubs of excitement before rumbling off to the next block.

Often paired with the Whip or Swing was the boat ride, a rocking pendulum that simulated ocean waves right on the truck bed, swaying back and forth with increasing height for a stomach-dropping thrill. Around 1967 or 1968, a 13-year-old might sprint from a stoop game at the sight of the truck pulling up, its boat-shaped cars painted in nautical blues and whites, creaking as the mechanism kicked in. Kids piled in, gripping rails as the boat swung higher, the motion blending with the urban symphony of car horns and yelling vendors. It was perfect for groups, with friends rocking in unison to amp up the swing, laughter peaking at the top where the world tilted sideways. By the early 1970s, older teens around 16 used it as a cooldown after more intense rides, chatting about school or the latest Beatles album amid the gentle sways. These boats appeared at block parties alongside barbecues and music, fostering community vibes in tight-knit enclaves like Canarsie or Bushwick. The trucks’ mobility meant surprises—here one afternoon, gone the next—teaching kids patience and the joy of the unexpected.

Adding to the excitement was the King Kong ride, a multi-row swinging gondola that evoked the thrill of a giant ape’s grasp, often going by aliases like Half Moon or Mighty Joe Young in different neighborhoods. In the mid-1960s, kids as young as 10 in areas like Bensonhurst or Boro Park would hear the truck approaching with its distinctive rumble, the setup unfolding to reveal tiered seats where the “cool kids” vied for the top row for the wildest swings. Painted with gorilla motifs or bold colors, the ride rocked back and forth like a massive pendulum, building momentum to near-vertical heights that had riders’ hearts pounding and screams echoing down the block. For 12- to 14-year-olds, it was a badge of bravery to sit up high without holding on too tight, the wind rushing past amid scents of nearby Mr. Softee trucks. By the 1970s, teens up to 18 treated it as a staple of summer evenings, sometimes hopping on in pajamas after hearing the horn late at night, sharing stories of near-flips while the operator cranked the hydraulics. This truck roamed streets from Park Slope to the Bronx edges, a symbol of accessible adventure for those who couldn’t make it to Coney Island, packing up quickly but leaving lasting memories of urban escapism.

Other rides occasionally tagged along, like mini Ferris wheels folding out from trailers for bird’s-eye views of the block or simple swing carousels for younger siblings, all powered by noisy generators that filled the air with a carnival hum. In the 1960s heyday, these mobile setups peaked during heat waves, when streets closed for parties with live bands and games. Kids from 10 to 18 navigated the crowds, tickets in sweaty fists, the trucks’ murals of clowns and rockets fading under years of sun. As the ’70s brought inflation and stricter rules, the trucks thinned out, but memories endured of those block-to-block adventures. In a borough of dreamers and doers, these rides offered pure escapism, turning concrete canyons into playgrounds of wonder, one mechanical whirl at a time.

If you like this podcast, Check out our new Brooklyn Echo’s Audio podcast at The Brooklyn Hall of Fame were we have been recording episodes to stream  at your favorite streaming services like Apple or Spotify