... about this site is titled,
We Have Seen the Future, and It Is Rusting, and includes a bunch of photos.
Here's a piece of the article for those who were asking about whether climbing the towers was possible, and also, mention of a bit of urban archaeology in progress:
During the summer the red warning light on the top of the highest tower, some 226 feet up, went out. It had to be quickly replaced, per federal regulations; La Guardia Airport is close by, after all. But the burnout of a small light presented a large problem for the pavilion’s custodian, the Department of Parks and Recreation. With the elevators now stuck like barnacles to the sides of the towers, and with the stairwells rotted beyond use, parks officials had to hire a company that specializes in rappelling up buildings to conduct inspections and repairs. Which means, then, that someone climbed up the futuristic edifice by rope to change that light bulb. At the same time, beyond the “DANGER — KEEP OUT” signs, in the rotunda of the pavilion, an archaeological dig of sorts has been taking place in urban ruins less than 50 years old. IT might be hard to imagine now, but back then the pavilion’s central feature was a detailed, 9,000-square-foot map of New York State, made of 567 terrazzo mosaic panels laid across the rotunda’s floor. Billed as the largest map in the world, it allowed you to stroll from Montauk Point to that small place in Cattaraugus County — Ischua, wasn’t it? — where you had an aunt. Soon after taking custody, the city turned this meticulous map into a roller rink. A few years later, city workers disassembled the glorious multicolored ceiling by hammering out the heavy panels, sending them crashing to the floor. On and on the willful neglect continued, abetted by fiscal crises, until, finally, you could visit the ruined map and slip the I from Ischua into your pocket. Graduate students from the University of Pennsylvania are now collecting and cataloging the loose pieces of terrazzo and plastic, and are planning to restore some of the map for an exhibition next year. The thrust of the exhibition, presumably: This is what it looked like, way back then — in 1964.
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