Rose Kennedy Greenway

You can't compare Post Office Square Park and the Greenway. PO Square is entirely private property. It's funding source were from deep corporate pockets. The Greenway was within the realm of the public process. If you were in Boston 15 years ago, then you know about all of the public meetings and design panels.

The Greenway, physically, is a very different set of parks than the ones we are comparing them to. It is a linear "promanade" park, similar to the Comm Ave mall, only wider and with more (a lot more) variation with the exception of the Chinatown park.

And who says the Greenway isn't working? Sure some parcels could use improvement, but we just can't tell yet. It hasn't even been open for a full year. Horticulture needs at least two years to fill out and the trees will just keep growing.

For the record, in the waning days of last summer, the North End parks were bustling with activity with families, seniors, kids playing ball...it really seemed to work - even with all of the noise.
 
Greenway sanity

Globe Columnist / March 7, 2008

Don Chiofaro. Ted Raymond. Pay attention, please. This is about you.

We know that our mayor, Tom Menino, likes to make news when he appears before the wall-to-wall crowd at the annual meeting of the Municipal Research Bureau. Two years ago Menino made page one headlines with his call for a dramatic 1,000-foot tower that would "symbolize the full scope of this city's greatness." Today, speaking in the same ballroom at the Seaport Hotel, Menino will again make news: This time he will call not for taller towers but shorter - at least on the city's new Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy Greenway.

As always, the devil is in the details - and the follow-through. This is a mayor who has rarely seen a big building he doesn't like. An 800-foot building is shorter than a 1,000-foot building, but neither fits on the Greenway. So it is encouraging that Menino is now directing the Boston Redevelopment Authority to pursue a comprehensive zoning review of the Greenway, tightening height and density guidelines.

Menino's point: The public has invested billions, and it has a right to protect that investment from overly ambitious development. Tough talk for a mayor not known for being tough on developers. We will see.

Unlike the critics - my friend Tom Keane, for instance, who in the Globe Magazine recently suggested we would be better off filling in the Greenway with buildings - I remain encouraged. Stand on one end of the Greenway and look to the other and what you see is blue sky and an expanse of open space. That is priceless - except we have paid more than enough for it. The Greenway remains a work in progress; we are too impatient. We will get it right, and it will become a new signature for the city.

One measure of the Greenway's success is the rush to build all around it. Developers understand that value. Russia Wharf is ready to begin construction. Chiofaro, builder of International Place, has paid handsomely for the enormous, ugly garage beside the New England Aquarium. North Station and the Bulfinch Triangle are hot. Developers would like to get moving around South Station and Chinatown. The credit crunch is the big inhibitor.

All good things. After $15 billion in public investment, private investment was supposed to follow. What we don't need is a series of Manhattan-like towers obscuring the sky above the Greenway. Or more mediocre Houston knockoffs like the InterContinental Boston hotel. Height is appropriate in some places, not in others. The Greenway is a place for special care. Building better, not bigger should be the measure.

Some developers are suffering from Greenway madness. Chiofaro, for instance, has shown a model of his proposed project at the aquarium that approaches 1,000 feet, says one person who has seen it. Raymond, whose projects include Trinity Place in Copley Square and Flagship Wharf in the Charlestown Navy Yard, has floated a vision for the Government Center garage that includes an 800-foot tower, a 600-foot tower, and two smaller towers. Situated at the intersection of the Green and Orange lines, Raymond's site is intriguing. The issues are how big and where does the height belong? Hint: Away from the Greenway.

In an interview yesterday, Raymond said he "shares the mayor's passion for the Greenway," and expects to make his plans public shortly. Chiofaro, apparently in a very long meeting, didn't call me back. But in an "open letter" after my "Greenway Madness" column in December, Chiofaro said I got it wrong when I said he was considering as much as 60 stories on his garage site. "A major factual error," he called it. But he didn't say how big he wanted to build. My error, if there was one, may have been in underestimating the size of his ambition.

"First off, Steve-from-Poughkeepsie, this is my town, too," Chiofaro wrote. "I was born in Boston, I've lived nowhere else, I've chosen to make my career here, and I care about this city intensely. The Chiofaro Company has indeed developed International Place as the largest office complex in the Financial District - sometimes size does matter.

"The Greenway presents an unprecedented opportunity for the city," he went on, "and it comes with commensurate responsibility." On that we do agree, Don.

Good Riddance, Steve. May you stay in London where you may inspire a whole new generation of NIMBYs.

http://www.boston.com/business/articles/2008/03/07/greenway_sanity/
 
^^^ Steve is right about the credit crunch. IMO, Chiofaro, not that far removed from bankruptcy, doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting financing for any tower without a major tenant signed up beforehand. The same, IMO, for Belkin and TransNational. Boston is fortunate that it has as many towers under construction, or soon to be, that it has. The credit market has basically imploded, and will be constrained for years.
 
Greenway sanity
What we don't need is a series of Manhattan-like towers obscuring the sky above the Greenway.

People in this city do realize that the existing towers in Boston's financial district are "Manhatten-like" towers right?

Raymond, whose projects include Trinity Place in Copley Square and Flagship Wharf in the Charlestown Navy Yard, has floated a vision for the Government Center garage that includes an 800-foot tower, a 600-foot tower, and two smaller towers. Situated at the intersection of the Green and Orange lines, Raymond's site is intriguing.

Woah, what's this now??? I have never heard of any such proposals.
 
Maybe I'm slow, but I've only just begun to recognize how Orwellian and the insidious the the use of the term "Manhattanization" is. I think it is deliberately used by local critics to stoke the built-in anti-NY animus many Bostonians have.

It would take a hundred years of unfettered economic expansion, constant development and abandonment of Boston's zoning rules for us to even approach the density of tall buildings present in Manhattan. It is an hysterical (in the bad sense) term given the state of Boston's development patterns and economics.
 
Maybe I'm slow, but I've only just begun to recognize how Orwellian and the insidious the the use of the term "Manhattanization" is. I think it is deliberately used by local critics to stoke the built-in anti-NY animus many Bostonians have.

It would take a hundred years of unfettered economic expansion, constant development and abandonment of Boston's zoning rules for us to even approach the density of tall buildings present in Manhattan. It is an hysterical (in the bad sense) term given the state of Boston's development patterns and economics.

Although you are right, to many, one tower, whether it 300 feet or 800 feet, is evil and pushes Boston to the brink of being NY. To put in height limits in a downtown district, especially since there are a few towers bordering the greenway over 600 feet, is plain idiotic.
 
I agree that the term "Manhattanization" is just used as a fear tactic. That one guy I quoted in the Newbury St thread feared that an additional 12 ft to a new building would "turn Newbury St into a canyon". I mean seriously, have these people even been out of the Back Bay?

What shocks and saddens me is that it isn't that there is opposition to development (which, lets be honest, the current infrastructure can barely support), but that there is a real fear about change. They have fetishized the urban form of Boston. They forget that this city is a real city that needs to grow and regenerate itself in order to stay alive. Now, that doesn't mean skyscrapers everywhere, but we must allow areas to grow, and we need to understand that the row houses of the Back Bay were built in a completely different time period with different economic factors and different social needs.

That piece from the Globe speaks of the Greenway as if it is one singular area. The fact is it is just a collection of parks running through many neighborhoods, each completely different. A 800' tower would be fine in the Financial District but horrible next to the North End. We just got this new park and already we have fetishized it.
 
Didn't Leonardo da Vinci come up with some ratio of street width to building height which has long been said to be the ideal proportion, something like a 3:1 ratio? If that's the case and if the Greenway is 150' wide (from building foundation on one side of the street to the building foundation on the other) which is just a guess on my part, the ideal height of buildings lining the Greenway should be 450'.
 
I'd love a taste of Manhattanization, circa 1910 to 1940. As you mention Paris and Haussmann, check out www.Paris1930.com for some pleasant urban settings.
 
A real estate agency specializing in art deco buildings? Talk about a niche market.

They have fetishized the urban form of Boston. They forget that this city is a real city that needs to grow and regenerate itself in order to stay alive.

Oh, they love change, as long as it involves the creation of new parks.

If that's the case and if the Greenway is 150' wide (from building foundation on one side of the street to the building foundation on the other) which is just a guess on my part, the ideal height of buildings lining the Greenway should be 450'.

I don't think the Hausmann ratio holds past a certain scale. If we had a mile-wide Greenway, would we really want it to be lined with three-mile-high towers? The result would be somewhat dehumanizing.
 
Last edited:
Boston Globe - March 13
After reworking city's face, Greenway gatekeeper retires

By Thomas C. Palmer Jr., Globe Staff | March 13, 2008

At a new park on Fort Point Channel, a large chunk of the old steel bridge that once carried freight trains across the canal has been deleaded, repainted, and installed by the Big Dig as a sculptural reminder of the city's past. It's known affectionately by Turnpike Authority insiders as Fred's Folly No. 3.

Fred is Fred Yalouris, the former director of architecture and urban design for the Big Dig, who retired from the Massachusetts Turnpike Authority last month after 11 years.

His job was to coordinate the cosmetic surgery on the face of a city disfigured by the six-lane Central Artery that cut through in the 1950s. The result is the Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy Greenway, a 30-acre corridor of greenery and public spaces that rejoined downtown with its waterfront after five decades.

Yalouris, 59, is proud of Fred's Folly No. 3 and other relics he helped preserve, including a historic mill wheel and two steel columns that supported the old roadway. He said they are reminders of Boston's heritage and symbols of the positive changes wrought by $15 billion of construction work and 15 years of intense commuting grief.

"It's just extraordinary, the benefits that have accrued to this city," Yalouris said over lunch at the InterContinental Hotel, itself newly constructed along the Greenway and wrapped around Big Dig tunnel ventilation stacks. "It will be seen as a bargain."

In charge of the planning, design, and construction of the Greenway, Yalouris presided over one of the most dramatic transformations any city in the nation has ever seen. In addition to almost 300 acres of parks throughout the city, Yalouris was responsible for 32 new buildings, including ventilation structures for the underground highway.

Yalouris participated in, refereed, or got squeezed in the middle of a decade of monumental battles over the corridor of parks - from the North End through the Wharf District to Chinatown - that is finally expected to be complete this year. Issues included a severely constricted budget for the Chinatown Park and a proposal by the Armenian Heritage Foundation to donate a memorial park.

"Some of the advocate groups were pretty rough," Yalouris said. "A lot of people started out thinking we were the bad guys, and I don't think they ended up thinking that."

A number of the battles were focused on the new green space that is not as well known, in East Boston and elsewhere. Repeated delays on completion of the North Point parks along the Charles River leave 8 acres incomplete even today.

David Seeley, a Leather District resident and neighborhood representative involved in the Chinatown Park process, had as many wrestling matches with Yalouris as anyone.

"Fred was more forthcoming than I had thought he was initially, and his goals and aspirations for the project were never in doubt," Seeley said. "He wanted it to be a great thing, and he was willing to get in there and muck around and get it right, and that was a messy job."

Yalouris said his proudest achievement is completion of the Fort Point Channel edges, which now have four small parks and a stretch of the original granite bulwark incorporated into the city's Harborwalk.

"The Fort Point Channel used to be someplace where you never went," he said. "Now, it's a place you want to go. It has spurred development and civic pride and public use."

As important to Yalouris is what did not get built. He's proud of killing an early Big Dig plan to put a boardwalk on pilings over the channel, 15 feet from the shore. "It could have been a nightmare, there were so many disparate elements" involved in the design, he said.

Yalouris also fought successfully to keep sign clutter off the Leonard P. Zakim Bunker Hill Bridge, said former Big Dig executive Glen Berkowitz. Virtually free of highway and directional markers, the graceful and picturesque cable-stayed structure has become a symbol not only for the highway and tunnel project, but for the entire city.

While the ferocity of the neighborhood battles surprised him, Yalouris said he achieved his goals in reaching compromises among competing neighborhood and activist groups, including those who opposed Big Dig plans. Some wanted fountains or a merry-go-round in the parks; some didn't. Others wanted cobblestone walks but were opposed by cyclists and the physically challenged, who prefer smooth pavement.

"If I was able to walk away thinking everybody got something of what they wanted - or a fair and responsible explanation for why they didn't," he said, "I felt I had done the right thing."

Some do remain unhappy. Though Boston officials were supposed to have an equal hand in developing the Greenway, Mayor Thomas M. Menino consistently declined to take any financial responsibility for it. The Turnpike and the city were in perpetual conflict - from the selection of a park designer in the early 2000s on - and today City Hall feels it was shut out.

A Boston Redevelopment Authority official pointedly declined comment when asked about Yalouris for this article.

But Shirley Kressel, a landscape architect, neighborhood advocate, and constant critic at public meetings on the Greenway, praised Yalouris. "I always thought Fred was pretty OK," she said. "I think he was what we used to call in older days a real public servant."

Kressel said her only serious disappointment was the Turnpike Authority's insistence on placement of the Armenian heritage park on the Greenway, the equivalent of a $4 million gift for the Greenway, but one that bent the rules in gaining approval. "He supported getting their money for financial reasons," she said.

Yalouris left the Turnpike Authority several months before he planned to, the result of authority cost-cutting. Now, some worry about the transition of care for the Greenway to the not-yet-fully-formed Greenway Conservancy, a private nonprofit group.

"Both organizations thought the timetable was going to be longer," said Nancy Brennan, the conservancy's executive director. "The goal is not to drop the ball."

Anne Fanton, a member of the Mayor's Central Artery Completion Task Force, praised Yalouris for moving the Greenway along. But she said he and the Turnpike erred in dividing the corridor into three distinct districts, to be designed separately.

"That created an artificial division of the Greenway that made it difficult to plan as a cohesive whole," she said.

Educated in archeology at Harvard University and Oxford University, a former professor and college administrator, Yalouris was at Newbury College in the mid-1990s when he read an article by former Massachusetts transportation secretary Alan Altshuler calling for more local talent to be involved in development of the city post-Big Dig. He applied for and got the chief architecture job in 1997. More than a decade later, Yalouris left the job after working the past three years without a vacation, but with the Greenway near completion. He plans to take some time off now.

"I had not expected the public process to be so complex and so consuming," he said. "But as time went along, I felt it was vital to bring neighborhoods together and bring people behind a common goal."

Thomas C. Palmer Jr. can be reached at tpalmer@globe.com.
Link
 
Shirley Kressel, a landscape architect,

I didn't know this. Did anyone else know this?

It would explain her fetish for open space.
 
^^ I think a few folks have mentioned it in the past. She studied at the GSD.
 
Boston Globe - March 14
No Big Dig copycats
As other cities consider removing elevated highways, activists cite Boston as a reason not to go underground

By Noah Bierman, Globe Staff | March 14, 2008

If all had gone as planned, the mayor of Seattle would don a hard hat next year and break ground on a multibillion-dollar project to replace the city's downtown overpass with a tunnel.

But in a post-Big Dig world, that vision has popped like a $15 billion balloon.

In a ballot initiative last March, Seattle voters weighed in on a waterfront tunnel project, smaller in scope than the Big Dig, but similar in goals. In the run-up to the vote, the words big and dig became political shorthand for bloat and delay, with shoddiness thrown in for good measure.

Seventy percent of Seattle voters said no, thanks. On the same ballot, they also rejected a replacement overpass.

Instead, Seattle, like a growing number of cities around the country, is looking at taking down its elevated highway structure and replacing it with - nothing. The idea is to slow traffic in the city on ground-level streets, reclaim the waterfront, and let drivers who want to bypass downtown use another route.

Like-minded civic activists and politicians are urging similar plans from Louisville to Buffalo, from the Bronx to Toronto. In some cases, the advocates are coming to Boston, enjoying the reconnected city, then consulting with urban planners here on how to connect neighborhoods without the high costs and logistical headaches of digging a tunnel.

"The Big Dig experience was certainly used against us," said Tim Ceis, Seattle's deputy mayor, who supported a tunnel. As Seattle debated its project, the Big Dig faced a variety of setbacks: spiraling costs and legal wrangling among contractors, including Bechtel/Parsons Brinckerhoff, and the tunnel accident that killed Milena del Valle of Jamaica Plain.

"The tiles fell right in the middle of our debate about this," Ceis said. "That didn't help. And also, Parsons Brinckerhoff was the primary consultant here."

Since the vote, Ceis said, "we're looking for a nonfreeway solution."

Those who want to remove elevated highways in other cities take care to leave the Big Dig out of their debates. Tyler Allen heads a community group in Louisville that wants to redirect Interstate 64 traffic so that it no longer runs downtown. He has come to Boston to meet with Big Dig planners and believes the project is an inspiring example of a group of residents determined to reclaim their city.

But he calls the Big Dig "a highly problematic legacy," because "it is perceived as the ultimate pork barrel project."

"You really can't mention the Big Dig, because everybody knows it was obscenely expensive," he said.

In the middle of the last century, elevated highways through downtowns were a sign of progress, offering quick truck routes from ports and fast getaways for suburbanites. They often cut through poor and minority neighborhoods, creating what many saw as further blight, economic division, and isolation.

As these overpasses age, some civic leaders want to redevelop their waterfronts and reconnect the old neighborhoods to the city. Many of the downtown factories that needed the truck routes have moved out of the cities, as the price of downtown land has gone up.

When modern advocates for removing elevated highways cite a model for their own communities, they invariably point to San Francisco, not Boston. In 1991, leaders there decided to tear down the old Embarcadero double-decker roadway after it was damaged in a 1989 earthquake. A ground-level boulevard took its place and spawned redevelopment along the waterfront.

"If you have eight different possible routes, the traffic will redistribute itself," said Cary Moon, director of the People's Waterfront Coalition in Seattle, which has been leading the campaign to get rid of the overpass, the Alaskan Way Viaduct, and add more public transit in its place.

Milwaukee took down a piece of a downtown overpass in 2002. Seoul did it in 2005, uncovering a river that ran through the middle of the city and adding walkways and fountains.

"It's the Big Dig without the big dig," said Anthony Flint, public affairs director at the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy in Cambridge and author of a forthcoming book about the battles between renowned urban planners Jane Jacobs and Robert Moses over urban freeways. "It's what's on top, and the elimination of the elevated structure, but none of the tunnels. "I don't think that a Big Dig is ever going to happen again," Flint said. "It's just too darned expensive."

Competition for federal road money is intense. Political titans like the late House speaker Thomas P. "Tip" O'Neill Jr. of Cambridge, who had championed the Big Dig and brought home much of the funding, are rare.

Kenneth Kruckemeyer, a former transportation official in Boston and codirector of the Cities in the 21st Century for the International Honors Program in Boston, served on a state panel in Washington that helped evaluate Seattle's doomed tunnel plan. Kruckemeyer believes that the Big Dig will leave a mixed legacy: He appreciates that it encouraged more pedestrian activity and reclaimed the city surface, but said that outsiders judge it only by its failure to meet deadlines, budgets, and standards of quality construction.

"It's fair to say the Big Dig did not achieve any of those three things in the way it was managed," Kruckemeyer said.

Without that legacy, including long disruption to the daily lives of Bostonians, Seattle voters might have approved a tunnel, he said.

"But I'm not sure that would have been good if the tunnel had fared better" in Seattle, he said. "I don't think the cautiousness that people have because of the Big Dig is a bad thing."

David Miller, mayor of Toronto, said the general attitude in his city is that a tunnel is too expensive and too disruptive to build.

Miller said repairs on the Gardiner Expressway in Toronto are draining nearly 2 percent of the yearly property tax. Knocking down a 3-mile stretch of the highway and replacing it with a ground-level road would cost about $1.5 billion Canadian. A tunnel would cost two or three times that, he said. None of the potential solutions is cheap.

"The challenge for us is: It's incredibly expensive, and we don't have Tip O'Neill," Miller said.

Though Miller built his reelection campaign around the issue and supports a tear-down without a tunnel, the city has yet to reach a consensus. The tear-downs tend to be more popular among professional planners, environmentalists, and their acolytes than residents. People who grew up in the era of freeways can find it hard to believe that tearing them down will result in anything but gridlock.

"I don't see how they can put all that traffic on the surface," said Mary Margaret Haugen, who heads the transportation committee of the Washington state Senate. Haugen said traffic on Interstate 5, the major north-south artery, could grow dramatically, adding hours to commutes, if the Alaskan Way is torn down.

The mayor of Louisville, Jerry Abramson, is also opposed to local efforts to tear down an overpass that runs along the redeveloped waterfront and reroute traffic onto another highway.

"No one would propose taking up a section of rail in Grand Central Station and not replacing that," Abramson said.

John O. Norquist, a former mayor of Milwaukee, concedes that his plan to tear down a 0.8-mile stretch of an elevated highway would not have passed a public referendum.

Instead, he persuaded Milwaukee's downtown property owners that the old Park East Freeway was hurting their land values and undermining economic progress. Then he took the plan to the governor and bartered a deal, he said.

Norquist is so convinced of the economic and cultural values of the project that he now goes around the country advocating highway removals, as president of the Congress of New Urbanism.

Norquist argues strenuously that successful cities are not built on their lack of traffic congestion. He offers Detroit as an example of a city that has defeated congestion, but has yet to recover from its economic problems.

"The thing that makes Boston valuable isn't its fast traffic," he said. "The thing that makes Boston is its complexity."

Noah Bierman can be reached at nbierman@globe.com.
Link
 
With Boston's peculiar geography, not building the Big Dig would have been a disaster IMO but the Ted Williams Tunnel, besides the unfortunate death and debacle, the connection to it has turned out to be a great thing for western and southern areas that used to have very poor access to the airport.

btw-If they built the Big Dig but had no Central Artery at least Downtown would not have to contend with all those cars. The northern area would be a clusterfuck at the junction of Surface Artery- Storrow Drive- rt1-airport tunnels. The North Washington Street Bridge and the Longfellow would be a disaster.

On the other hand I would love to see Storrow Drive torn up and not replaced.
 
Closing the elevated Central Artery during the Big Dig was floated early on as an idea to speed up the project, but it was quickly shot down.
 
The Seattle and Milwaukee freeways to be torn down are peripheral routes, and have parallel freeways nearby. The Central Artery, on the other hand, is the only expressway tying through Boston, the cornerstone for the entire greater Boston highway system.

The only way a surface artery alone (without the tunnel) could have worked in the Cenral Artery corridor is for the Ted Williams tunnel to be built as 8 lanes, and an east west 6-lane freeway built from its north portal near Logan Airport, then westerly to I-93 along the north side of the Mystic River. This would have provided the necessary north-south link in the system connecting with I-93 and Route 1 on the north, and the Mass Pike and Southeast Expressway on the south.

Such a roadway system, though, would have had unacceptable impacts on Chelsea and the Mystic River Reservation.

Also, there probably would still have been the need for a 4 lane freeway (2 lanes each direction) from Summer/Callahan tunnels to connect with Storrow Drive and I-93 north. So this alternative highway system would have cost as much or more than the Big Diig as we now know it through central Boston.
 
Shirley shrinks the size of the Greenway and thinks too much money is being spent on it.

Bill would give Greenway $5.5m a year

But some say that is too much when other park sites need funds

By Thomas C. Palmer Jr., Globe Staff | March 15, 2008

Supporters of the nearly completed Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy Greenway went to Beacon Hill this week to push for a bill that would provide $5.5 million a year to the conservancy that oversees it.

But some groups and individuals called for the Greenway conservancy, a private nonprofit group, to be more open to the public, and others suggested that the Greenway is being showered with money when other parks in the state are starved.

Richard A. Dimino, president of A Better City, an advocacy group, endorsed the bill. "We have supported the creation of a single-purpose entity to oversee the Greenway for over a decade," he told members of the Joint Committee on the Environment on Thursday. "This legislation is long overdue."

In the absence of either a stewardship group or prospective funding, the Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy Greenway Conservancy was established three years ago, and it is gradually assuming responsibility from the Massachusetts Turnpike Authority for maintenance and events on the corridor of parks.

The conservancy has commitments of $20 million in contributions but has sought public funding as well.

Rob Tuchmann, cochairman of the Mayor's Central Artery Completion Task Force, an advisory group, and others also supported the legislation.

But those testifying took issue with some aspects of the proposed legislation, including the length of the 99-year Greenway lease it would assign to the conservancy. Tuchmann and others suggested a shorter, renewable term.

George Bachrach, president of the nonprofit Environmental League of Massachusetts, said he "fully" supports the bill benefiting the Greenway - "It is not just any park" - but added that other green spaces in the state also need attention. "The state parks in the Commonwealth are by anybody's standards underfunded."

The only Turnpike authority official to testify was Mary Z. Connaughton, a board member who said she was not representing the full board because it had not taken a vote. She joined Representative David Linsky, a Democrat of Natick, in opposing a provision in the bill that would require the Turnpike to make a $10 million payment to the conservancy.

Calling it "an enormous chunk of cash," Connaughton said, "The Turnpike cannot afford this. This isn't fair to put this burden ultimately on the toll payer."

Peter Meade, chairman of the conservancy, who also supported the bill, said after he testified that he was skeptical the conservancy would get the money from the Turnpike, but perhaps the authority could be directed to contribute other resources instead. "We need a couple of maintenance facilities and some equipment," he said.

Shirley Kressel, a neighborhoods activist, called $5.5 million annually "far more than is necessary to reach any reasonable or even any extraordinary amount of care. It's around $1 million an acre, which is just unheard of."

Kressel also called for the conservancy's executives and 10-member board to open deliberations to the public. "I have been almost physically ejected from so-called executive sessions," she said.

Some who testified also opposed a proposed mechanism calling for conservancy board members to appoint their successors; new board members should be appointed instead by officials who are accountable to the public, the critics of the provision argued.

Kressel has long campaigned for the Greenway to be funded and overseen by a public entity, such as the state Department of Conservation and Recreation or the Boston Parks and Recreation Department. She asked the legislators to consider eliminating the conservancy.

But the committee's cochairpersons, Representative Frank Smizik of Brookline and Senator Pamela Resor of Acton, said after the meeting that is unlikely to happen.

"Nothing is written in stone," said Smizik, but, "We have to have some plan to move forward, and to rewrite the whole thing might not be the best way."

http://www.boston.com/business/articles/2008/03/15/bill_would_give_greenway_55m_a_year/
 
Last edited:

Back
Top