by John Ellis
I rode my first roller coaster the summer after 6th grade. My family was vacationing at Disney World, and my dad was eager to ride Space Mountain. I don’t remember if he had to cajole me or bribe me into riding, or if I entered the line with great eagerness under my own, unmanipulated will-power. However, I do remember that after we had finally made it to the front of the line, with a serious look on his face and in his tone, my dad pointed to the empty, returning cars and said, “Look. The cars leave with people in them, but return empty. Do you think that’s what all the screaming is about?”
Before I could answer, he ushered me into the car, and we were off.