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Posted Nov 12, 2020, 1:49 AM
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Ham-burgher
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Join Date: Jun 2013
Location: Hamilton
Posts: 6,850
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Quote:
Originally Posted by TheRitsman
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The '83 Gore "rejuvenation" was the one that chopped down all the mature trees and created new concrete bunkers designed to enhance the park experience.
June 1983: The Gore Park tree massacre
The Hamilton Spectator -- Fri., Sept. 23, 2016
It became known as the Gore Park fiasco, and 33 years later the topic still raises the blood pressure of Hamiltonians. The city was trying to rejuvenate the core by redeveloping the park. To do that, designers felt they had to start from ground zero by levelling it. The park looked like it had been hit by a bomb. Construction was started on a couple of concession buildings, but that was put to an end because of the public furor.
Significance:
The Gore Park Fiasco, or Gore Park Tree Massacre — as it is also known — goes down as one of the biggest political bungles of the last 50 years. It's pointed to as a lesson about how not to organize a major public project. A key aspect of the controversy is that the public had no idea that the city was contemplating such destruction of nature. The prevailing wisdom now is that not only does the public need to be informed about major civic undertakings, but it's also a good idea to involve the public in the decision-making. That's exactly what's happened with the latest makeover of the park that is going through the second of three phases. There has been some controversy, but there was a great amount of public consultation and disclosure involved, and the public pushback is nothing compared to 1983. Sadly, though, the latest makeover has seen the destruction of trees as well. It turns out that ash trees were used to replace trees cut down in 1983; now most of those are suffering devastation from the emerald ash borer and must be removed. So the park, from a nature point of view, is similar today to how it was in 1983.
From The Spec, on the 20th anniversary:
(by Paul Wilson, June 17, 2003)
"A proper fiasco is something that turns out very badly, a scheme that leaves scads of furious people in its wake.
In this city, 20 years ago this month, we embarked on a fine disaster. They called it the Gore Park Fiasco.
If you were here in '83, you'll recall the fury. If you've arrived since then or are too young to remember, a brief recap is advisable. Ignore your history and you're liable to repeat it.
Gore Park goes back to 1870. Some politicians thought it should be a lumber yard or a farmers' market, but the people wanted a park.
It became a beautiful place with a lovely fountain, tall trees, lots of benches. It was a classic Victorian park. Eventually it even got a statue of Queen Victoria and the pigeons love her.
But by the 1980s, a gloom had settled on downtown Hamilton. Stores were closing or heading for the suburbs.
The city fathers, none in office now, decided a new Gore Park was needed. But few took a good look at the plan.
In June 1983, the Ontario Municipal Board approved that plan. Within weeks, the work began. A four-paragraph brief — headlined Chainsaws in Gore Park — said work was under way.
In no time, work crews levelled the Gore. Not a blade of grass survived, not a single tree. All was rubble. On the July day when the biggest maple was coming down, some threatened to chain themselves to it, but no one did.
Then concrete-block structures began to rise. One was supposed to be a display area, another a food building. There was also an amphitheatre with seats so low seniors couldn't use them.
There was furious finger-pointing. Passersby yelled at workmen who said it wasn't their fault.
Finally someone yelled halt. They tore down the block structures and held public meetings. "Give us back the Gore," the people said.
A wise man named Ernie Seager stood up. He was 69, and for 35 years he had been secretary to the city's board of parks management. He said the planners had tried to put too much into Gore Park: "They're trying to put an elephant on a postage stamp.
"There is nothing on earth wrong with a Victorian park. We need a wrought iron fence of elegant design, a fountain, a place to sit. There's nothing wrong with grass and flowers."
And that is pretty much what we got. Ernie is dead now, but would probably like what Gore Park looks like now.
The ash trees they planted — a hybrid that flowers but does not produce berries — are now several storeys tall and provide good shade. And we have a magnificent new fountain, the same graceful lines as the old one.
At noon yesterday, Bryan Hayes sat and played his sax. You can catch him at the Junction next month or take your chances any lunch hour. Gore Park is his favourite place to practise.
He was just five at the time of the fiasco, but likes the way the Gore looks in 2003. He has been all over the world and says this park reminds him of Europe — except there are too many empty stores and garish signs around it.
But here and there, the storefronts are changing, too. One day — one hopes a lot less than 20 years from now — it could be a whole different scene in the core. In the meantime, get a sausage, grab a bench in the sun, squint your eyes just a little and you'll be basking in downtown Amsterdam."
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