Today in the House of David; In search of Ron Taylor
Published July 17, 1996
I wasn’t sure I’d have the courage to speak to Mr. Taylor even if I should meet him face to face. Driving gingerly into the main entrance of the old amusement park, I found a path that didn’t have a No Trespassing sign squarely on it and walked across the picnic grounds, where we’d had family reunions, to the cement steps that led down to the terraces above the stage where we could sit and listen to bands and amateur nights if we didn’t want to spend the money for beer or ice cream at the tables below.
