8 Abandoned Amusement Parks in New York That Time Forgot

There’s something hauntingly fascinating about abandoned amusement parks. These forgotten spaces once buzzed with laughter, neon lights, and the scent of popcorn. Now, some stand as quiet ruins with weeds creeping through rusted rides, while others survive only in photographs, postcards, or family stories passed down through the years.

I’ll take you through eight of New York’s most intriguing vanished parks. A few still leave behind crumbling structures or hidden relics, while others have been erased by floods, fires, or new development. Each has its own backstory, tied to changing tastes, natural disasters, or simply the passage of time.

Whether you’re a nostalgia seeker, urban explorer, or just curious about New York’s quirky past, these stories reveal how quickly joy can fade and landscapes can transform. Let’s walk through the ghostly gates of these eight parks, and uncover the histories that time tried to erase.

1. Frontier Town (Adirondacks, NY)

Cowboy hats, mock shootouts, and painted saloon facades once greeted me at Frontier Town. Families flocked here for a full Wild West spectacle, with staged bank robberies and train rides that made the Adirondacks feel like a movie set.

Over time, weeds crept through the planks and the horses trotted home. After closing in 1998, buildings quickly surrendered to the surrounding forest. Today, peeling paint and rusted rides watch over an eerie quiet, broken only by the wind through pine trees.

Some structures still stand, but nature’s grip tightens each year. I see faded murals peeking from the brush, a ghostly wink at the park’s lively past. If you look close, props from old cowboy shows sometimes appear under a fallen branch, hinting at stories never fully told. Partial ruins still stand; parts of the property have been redeveloped into a campground.

2. Land of Makebelieve (Upper Jay, NY)

The Land of Makebelieve always felt like stepping into a storybook I carried around as a child. Opened in 1954, this charming park was the vision of Arto Monaco, a designer who wanted kids to play in fairy-tale houses, ride tiny boats, and explore a pint-sized Old West.

Floods battered the park over the years, and a major one in 1979 finally shut its doors for good. Today, rain and river have swept away most of the enchanting buildings. Yet, in a quiet corner, you might spot a crumbling turret or a splash of pastel paint where a castle once stood.

The magic isn’t gone, it just hides in the undergrowth, waiting for anyone who remembers. The site is a bittersweet reminder of how dreams, big or small, sometimes float away but never fully disappear. Crumbling remnants like turrets and painted walls are still visible, though most of the park has been washed away by floods.

3. Al-Tro Island Park (Menands, NY)

Every family in Albany once talked about spending weekends at Al-Tro Island Park. The late 19th and early 20th centuries saw this riverside retreat bustling with a roller coaster, a vast theater, and the hum of dance halls.

By the 1920s, crowds drifted elsewhere, and progress soon buried the park’s remains. Interstate 787 now slices right through what used to be thrill-seeker territory. If you walk by, you’ll struggle to find any evidence, just a few stones and scraps, hidden by the rush of passing cars.

Al-Tro Island’s story is one of erasure, both by time and concrete. But old postcards and tales still surface in Albany’s antique shops, offering tiny glimpses into summers that vanished without warning. Completely gone; the site is now beneath Interstate 787.

4. Nunley’s Happyland (Bethpage, Long Island)

If you grew up on Long Island in the 1950s or ‘60s, Nunley’s Happyland was probably your birthday party destination. The air buzzed with laughter from the carousel, miniature train, and a Ferris wheel that seemed enormous at age six.

As shopping centers expanded, the park slipped quietly into memory by the 1970s. Concrete and storefronts replaced the gentle whir of rides. Today, there’s no obvious trace of the fun that once filled this space, just a plaque and a few wistful stories from those who rode its carousel horses.

Yet, every so often, an old photo is shared online, and the nostalgia comes flooding back. Happyland’s spirit lingers in memories, even as the landscape keeps changing. No rides remain, just a commemorative plaque and photos shared by former visitors.

5. Rockaways’ Playland (Queens, NY)

Rockaways’ Playland once gave Queens families a sun-soaked playground right by the Atlantic. Roller coasters soared above the boardwalk, and laughter drifted over the ocean breeze. The park, dating to 1902, stood as a beacon for generations seeking summer thrills.

But costs rose, storms battered the coast, and eventually, Playland bowed out in 1987. In its place, new development crept in. If you visit today, look for weathered railings and the rare chunk of ride machinery poking through the sand.

Neighbors swap stories about legendary rides and long afternoons spent chasing tickets. Even without its old ferris wheel, Playland’s legend keeps locals connected to the seaside’s playful past. Demolished in 1987; a few fragments and railings lingered for years, but the site is largely redeveloped.

6. Gaslight Village (Lake George, NY)

Gaslight Village brought Vaudeville magic to the Lake George area starting in 1959. I remember stories of its costumed performers, quirky attractions, and the opera house where families watched slapstick shows.

By the late 1980s, tastes had changed. The park closed, and most of its original structures vanished or were repurposed. A few weather-beaten artifacts still surface if you poke around the property, like a rusted sign or carousel fragment, hiding in plain sight.

Old-timers talk about the village as if it was yesterday, sharing memories of a place where music and laughter once echoed. It’s a poignant blend of nostalgia and the relentless march of progress. Most structures are gone, replaced by Charles R. Wood Park, though occasional artifacts still surface.

7. Glen Echo Park (Irondequoit, near Rochester)

Glen Echo Park, perched by Irondequoit Bay, started out as a resort escape in 1882. Steamboats ferried guests while the boardwalk bustled with people flocking to its roller coasters and grand hotel.

A series of devastating fires and fierce competition from neighboring parks eventually led to Glen Echo’s gradual decline. Now, only a few scattered foundations remain. You might spot a historical plaque or a crumbling wall, quietly holding onto a piece of Rochester’s golden age.

For me, it’s a spot loaded with nostalgia, a place where echoes of laughter dance on the breeze. The ruins and shoreline together offer a subtle, moving tribute to summers long past. Only foundations and a historical marker remain; not to be confused with the still-active Glen Echo Park in Maryland.

8. Coney Island’s Dreamland (Brooklyn, NY)

Dreamland stood at the heart of Coney Island’s heyday, opening in 1904. Unlike its neighbors, Dreamland went all out, towers glittered with electric lights, canals sparkled, and a tiny city buzzed with energy.

Tragedy struck in 1911 when fire tore through its elaborate buildings. Dreamland’s wonders disappeared that night, and the park never reopened. Today, the site is part of the bustling Coney Island you know, but Dreamland itself survives only in photos and the faint outlines visible to a keen eye.

Ask a local and they’ll tell you stories passed down from grandparents about Dreamland’s brief, shining moment. For me, it’s a symbol of how quickly even the grandest places can slip away. Destroyed by fire in 1911; the site is now part of modern Coney Island, with no surviving structures.