Give me a month, thirty-one days, and I’ll change places with Frederick Law Olmsted, Sr.
I’ll roust his bony frame out of a certain slow-rollover with an imperative; look how they’ve blackened a vision. See how pavement and Moses have transmuted dreams for the Niagara Reservation State Park, Goat Island, and the Niagara River gorge.
Before I go under, I’ll exchange Olmsted’s rose-colored eyepiece for my paper reams: lists, resolutions, petitions, memos of understanding, newspaper articles, letters, presentations, and some guiding principals about a greenway. Here, I’ll say as I thrust that ultimate, final pulp fiction into his hands, here are the names of the commissioners. Are their documented words consistent with their actions? Here’s a paperless address for an opinion, please.
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