(Brian Elmquist)
The Times's Joe Sexton, also a neighbor, describes the scene as Cormac McCarthy meets Jerry Lewis, and waxes poetic:
Coney Island Avenue, the great multicultural boulevard of Brooklyn, had at its intersection with Newkirk become a smorgasbord of vehicular misery: a Brink’s armored truck, a city bus, an 18-wheeler and a cab were among the defeated.
Cars were lined up on both sides of the standoff of the stuck. There was a narrow passage to try and shoot, and the drivers of the cars, like frightened sledders, closed their eyes and hit the gas.
The drivers, unlike frightened sledders, had no option to bail. The pileup grew.
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The armed driver of the Brink’s truck was as helpless as the rest. No one was demanding the loot; no one was offering to assist. If the men inside were fingering the guns at their hips, it seemed only in contemplation of shooting the truck. Or themselves.
