Forty-five years ago, the World's Fair came to New York City. As a ten-year-old, I remember well the bubbling excitement and anticipation that the promise of the Fair held for us. This was stoked primarily by my Dad, who remembered his own excitement as a ten-year-old at the 1939 World's Fair.
It was clear that my Father was still in awe over his Fair ('39), and wanted earnestly to share that experience, or a reasonable facsimile, with us kids here in '64. I remember him talking about stuff like the Heinz Pickle pins they gave out in '39, and the iconic symbols of that Fair, which he referred to as the Ball and Spear (actually called the Trylon and Perisphere). the '64 Fair lived up to its promise and more. A multi-acre tribute to American ingenuity (and, admittedly, American arrogance), the World's Fair was an exilharating triumph. I remember distinctly feeling that anything was possible when we walked through those gates (which we did as a family about a dozen times over the Fair's two-year run).
It's ironic that many of the most dramatic attractions--like General Motors' Futurama--were sponsored by behemoth companies whose fortunes have faded so over these last four decades (no one saw that coming at Futurama). But dramatic they were--depicting vacation paradises under the sea, and communities on the Moon, or even life before humans existed in the age of the dinosaur. I remember waiting for what seemed like hours to catch a glimpse of Michael Angelo's Pieta, and my Mother reacting as though she'd seen Christ himself. And Abraham Lincoln brought back to life by the animatronic magic of Walt Disney. And getting copies of newspaper front pages commemorating our birthdays at the New York Times pavilion.
For me, and I'm sure others like me at time, the Fair was particularly meaningful because it allowed you to believe that your imagination, ingeniuty and resourcefulness alone could be applied to create an incredible future.
It's amazing to realize how powerful a force that is--that no matter what you understand intellectually, at the root of your being you believe that anything is possible to a willing heart. It's sheer luck that we had the World's Fair to nourish us young, optimistic entrepreneurs.
We can only hope our children get to experience such a tremendous cultural catalyst.
I enjoyed your thoughts on the Fair. Your mother and mine had the same reaction to the Pieta! She bought a small plaster copy of it and put it on a table at home. One day a few weeks later we came home and the dog greeted us at the door with white foam all over its mouth. Mad dog? No, mad mom, as the dog had for some reason decided to chew up the Pieta statue. I don't think my mother ever forgave him.
ReplyDeleteFor more on the Fair please visit my site www.worldsfairphotos.com, nywf64.com, and www.worldsfaircommunity.org. We'll do our best to take you back to 1964. No Belgian Waffles available on line yet though.
Bill Cotter
Thanks for sharing, Bill. I think there are a lot of folks like us who remember the Fair with fondness and significance...
ReplyDeleteI vividly remember riding down the Merritt Parkway on our way to the Fair. All I knew was that it was big, and in New York where most big things are. I remember the GM Pavillion having a minature model of the future cities and roadways. Little did they know that their market share would steadily shrink with Toyota, etc. eating them up. I think I remember Sinclair (big Dinosaur), too but I don't remember the pavillion. At the Ford Pavillion, I felt like the luckiest boy alive when after waiting in line for a long time, we were escorted into an orange Ford Mustang convertable with white interior for the ride/tour. My Father let me "drive" as the car followed tracks through the exhibit. I remember the ATT pavillion too. The last thing I remember is eating Belgian Waffles and getting a little lantern as it grew dark. It was a long day and I am sure I fell asleep in my Father's Oldsmobile on the way home.
ReplyDeleteBob M. FLNJ