This past Saturday I was back on the #7 train but, this time for a visit to Flushing Meadows Park, home of both the 1939 and 1964 world’s fairs. I was there to photograph the landmark Unisphere and the New York State Pavilion, remnants of the 1964 world’s fair that I attended and mentioned in my post of last week . Click here to read.

Strolling on the boardwalk that leads into the park among gaily flying American flags and banners, advertising the US Open now taking place at USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Center, I spotted the train yards where the #7 trains spend their leisure time when not shuttling people to and from Manhattan. I’m developing quite an affection for this subway line. 🙂

Once in the park I walked up a path shaded by a bower of trees that opens up to the breath-taking site of the Unisphere; an imposing silver orb of open worked stainless steel, against a blue sky gleaming in the sun and awash in a continuous spray of cool water.  It was just as I had remember it, fifty years ago – HUGE! I still felt the same awe as I walked all around its metal girth taking photo after photo, trying to come up with a new perspective with each shot.  The spray attracted children who would run laughing and yelling through the streaming aqua jets and I was careful to note which way the mist was blowing so as not to get my camera wet. When I had arrived the skies were blue and cloudless but, within an hour Mother Nature sent in a bank of white fluffy clouds that nestled down low behind the Unisphere, blending in so well with the frothy white jets of water that, it looked as if this celestial ball was teetering on the end of a water fall.

Happy with the Unisphere photos I created so far, I walked towards what was left of the New York State Pavilion. This was a source of great fascination to me when I was 7 years old because, it looked like something out of a science fiction magazine.  Now, a half century later, it is a skeleton of  discolored metal and concrete bones standing silent and stately. No longer alive with spellbound visitors wandering its observation decks, or walking its once beautiful floor of red Terrazzo tiles; no longer a center of attention. As I stood looking up at this past relic of the future, alight in the afternoon sun, its glamour and elegance still shown through. And, as I did with the Unisphere I walked around and around looking for and finding the abstract lines, curves and angles that mesmerized me all those years ago.

The sun was climbing higher in the sky and I wanted to get a few more shots of the Unisphere before heading home with maybe a sunburst above its crown and look for more distinctive views from within the park.  In my ramblings I found two of the sculptures that grace the many lawns in the park that lead to the Unisphere. My favorite is the “The Rocket Thrower” by Donald De Lue, and my second favorite the Freedom of the Human Spirit” by Marshall Fredericks.

As I was exiting the park I was delighted to see the Further Bus, a real working monument to the  psychedelic 1960’s once driven by Neal Cassady of the infamous Beat Generation (see Jack Kerouac or I should say “read”.)

Enjoy this blast from the past, man! Peace.


This slideshow requires JavaScript.





7 thoughts on “Stalwart Survivors of the World’s Fair

  1. Beautiful images that have retained a sense of timelessness, at least through the lens. Thrilling and reminiscent of that great fair along with memories of the day I attended, feeling awed and overwhelmed at the power and grandeur of it all. The structures present a compelling homage photographed against a brilliant sky, while defying age and maturity, but still maintaining a countenance and nobility. Thanks for the memories!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s