NEW YORK CITY and the WORLD'S FAIR in 1965
Part One: Before the Fair
When I was a kid, back in the early 1960's, I had two brothers: Howard,
2 1/2 years older than me, and Jeff, one year younger. When we were smaller,
our parents delighted in calling us Huey, Dewey, & Louie, since we had these
identical caps Grandmother had brought us from Disneyland; but by 1963, when
our brother Andy was born, we had developed into very different individuals.
Howard was very much my own personal version of Wally Cleaver. He seemed to
be very mature and teen-aged, being involved in things that just weren't
part of my world, at least not yet. While I eschewed sports, he was very
athletic, and was into things like cars, girls and rock and roll. Jeff was
fanatically interested in wars. He knew all sorts of things about the Civil
War, and he'd reenact famous military engagements with whatever stray toys
came to hand. I thought war was boring - I was interested in flying saucers,
time machines, ray guns, and little green men - what I'd learned was called
science fiction.
By today's standards, science fiction back then was kind of a rare commodity.
Now, a space movie comes out almost every week, and all the great classics
from the 1950's are available down at the video club. Any library or
bookstore has a science fiction section, and TV commercials are souped up
with special effects. Not so in the early 1960's. Even those great movies
were unseen - only the bad ones seemed to be shown on the local TV channel,
on their weekly monster movie show called "The World Beyond!" The networks
had better taste than to show that sort of thing - instead they gave us
"Lost in Space" and "The Outer Limits". I heard that better things were
on, but way past my bedtime, like "The Twilight Zone" and something called
"Chiller".
I turned to reading, and found some books I could digest at the library. My
Dad subscribed to the Science Fiction Book Club and Analog magazine, but
all I could do then was admire the cover art, since my reading ability wasn't up
to the stories inside. Comic books were another matter. Marvel comics weren't
even available then, at least not in my area, but we did have Gold Key and DC
comics, the latter being the home of Superman and Batman. These were especially
good when the action took place in the future, as often happened. I liked the
curious buildings and the way they'd depict colorful futuristic clothing, with
these circular fins protruding from the shoulder blades. But even comic books
were rare - I didn't have much money to spend on them, and there were only a
few places I knew about that sold them.
One day when I was in the third grade I was down at the local Drug Fair perusing
their meager selection. Staff was sparse there, and I could get away with a lot
of free reading. Something about the nearby rack of "Classics Illustrated" caught
my eye. Unlike the dingy historical cover picture this magazine usually had,
the one I'd noticed featured a Martian tripod blasting an infantry emplacement
with its heat ray. I parted with some valuable change (15 cents) and took home
The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells. It was incredible! I went right
back to see if they had anything else that good. They didn't, but in the adjacent
magazine stand, I came across something very different. A slender publication,
only slightly larger than a comic book, but priced at half a dollar! I flipped
through the thick, shiny pages, and saw color photos of extremely odd buildings
under construction, with slick architectural renderings of their finished
appearance, and swirly cartoon drawings of smiling people riding in strange
vehicles being dazzled by wonders and entertainments. I didn't understand what
it was all about, but I sensed something important, so I begged of my father to
buy it for me, which he eventually did. Further analysis seemed to open a
doorway into a world as exhilaratingly futuristic as that of "The Jetsons." The
magazine was the Official Preview of the 1964/1965 New York World's Fair.
I knew what the World's Fair was. We'd learned about it in school, and on
television. The Space Needle was the centerpiece, and you arrived on a
monorail! We didn't get to go, since it was in Seattle, Washington, which,
like Disneyland, was somehow beyond the radius of my family's travels. But
this World's Fair would be in New York City, which was much closer. I wanted
to visit New York anyway, even without the Fair. They had the Empire State
Building, and the Statue of Liberty, and Hayden Planetarium, and best of
all, the subway! I remembered that we'd taken a summer vacation in New
England a few years before, and I quizzed my Dad about how we'd missed
New York. I found out that he wasn't Gotham City's biggest fan. He said it
was crowded and dirty, and travel there could be annoying and even dangerous,
and to be avoided if at all possible. He said that his only trip there he'd
really enjoyed had been when he was a boy, when he'd visited the World's Fair.
This floored me - my magazine said it wouldn't even open until next year. So
he told me about the first Fair, in 1939, and his favorite attraction, the
Futurama. I showed him an article in my magazine about the new Futurama, but
he didn't seem very interested. He'd already seen it. Nobody in the family
found much interest in this World's Fair, except me. We might not even go!
I collected everything I could find about the World's Fair, and put it all
into a large scrapbook my Mom gave me. As the Fair's opening drew near, the
amount of media attention approached a deluge. My scrapbook bulged with
reports from Life magazine and the newspaper, advertisements for Official
World's Fair products, and seemingly unrelated magazine articles, like the
one from Popular Science introducing the 1964 automobiles photographed at
the nearly completed Fairgrounds.
Then, one night, we all watched a special on TV. The Fair was to open in a
few days, and this program gave us inside tours of some of the most important
pavilions. Far too much time was devoted to the Pepsi-Cola "It's a Small World,"
which I found repugnant and distasteful. Jeff and Howard got a big charge out
of the Continental Insurance Pavilion's "Continental Soldier" song and cartoon.
Fortunately, adequate time was devoted to the Futurama, which was even more
fascinating than the photos and descriptions. The show introduced the Fair's
theme music, a melody which I still remember.
Family reaction to this program was positive; perhaps my brothers' enthusiasm
had something to do with it. Anyway, it was announced that we would attend the
Fair, but probably not this year, due to a major driving excursion planned for
that summer out West (but not as far as Disneyland).
By late spring of 1964, I was almost through with the fourth grade. The World's
Fair had opened with great fanfare, and by then I knew people who had actually
visited it. Both sets of my grandparents passed through our house en route to
the fair. On her way back to Texas, my Mother's mother left the Official Guide
to the Fair at our house, and it somehow became Jeff's possession (he still has
it). I was familiar with this large paperback book-sized publication - by then
they had them at all the magazine stands. It gave detailed information on all
the sights at the Fair. Since it cost a whole dollar, I never did get a copy
for myself.
There was a kid in my class* who saw the Fair right away. This was
to be expected, 'cause he had rich parents, and was always coming back from
exotic locations, sometimes a day or two after classes had begun. (His family
had flown from LAX to Disneyland in a helicopter!) He gave me a souvenir
pin from the Ford pavilion. It was made of pale green plastic (that glowed
in the dark) shaped in the image of that pavilion, with "Maryland" stamped
below. He said they had boxes full of pins for each state at the Ford exit.
That pin was a favorite possession for months. I felt it was my first real
connection with the Fair, and I treated it like a sacred totem. I had it with me
in the tent's darkness during my first camping trip with the Boy Scouts, early
the next year. A few months after that, though, when we finally visited the Fair
early in June, it was lost, and almost totally forgotten.
We drove up the NJT in our new Oldsmobile Vista-Cruiser station wagon. This was
a deluxe model, new for 1965, which had a radical new body style: a kind of a
low sub-windshield set halfway back in the roof, with narrow curving side windows
running along from this slanting moonroof to the tailgate, with its new motorized
rear window. The machine's color was Sterling Mist, a silver very lightly tinted
with blue.
The radio provided an occasional diversion from the repetitive New Jersey scenery
with live news coverage of the Gemini IV mission. The launch the day before had a
prime objective of the first American space-walk. Now they had the hatch open and
were doing some tests. Tomorrow, while we were exploring the World's Fair, Ed White
would step out of his capsule and float free, attached only by his umbilical cord,
orbiting high above us.
It was 'late' by the time we arrived at our hotel. Our room lacked a view but seemed
standard. Soon we discovered just how 'standard' it was: every table, lamp and chair
had been strategically re-located to cover a stain or a burn left behind by previous
guests. I was very hungry, but the others were just tired, so Dad took me down the
elevator and across the street to the closest place to get something. This turned
out to be a little corner store, and also a revelation: I had this isolated suburban
kid's vision of New York similar to a stereotype immigrant's, that all the people
did there was ride elevators and subways and eat out in restaurants. Yet here was
a raggedy little place that had a little of everything, and was more like general
stores I'd been hurried through out in the country than my urban expectation. I
remember I got a chocolate milk there.
The next day, bright and early, we were out on the street. It was a clear, cool
Spring Manhattan morning. A very tall building loomed up above us, and Dad said
it was the Empire State Building. Sure enough, those lines did look familiar,
but what a perspective! He led us into an Automat, and doled out nickels. All the
slots took multiples of nickels. The food was quite tasty, it came on real dishes,
and it was great fun opening the little doors and serving yourself. This was a
lucky experience - the Automats were closing, and just a few years later, those
that were still open had been remodeled into vending machine arcades.
© 1987
Next: At the Fair
Note:
* Nuzzy
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