Stabilizing the Ruins

"What's out there?"

"A lot of ruins."

"What's in the stadium?"

"Ramps, inside and out, and nearly everybody who ever came through has got his name up there."

"Can you find them?"

"Sure, if you look hard enough, and if you're lucky."

When Secretary of the Interior Stewart Udall unveiled plans for the new Ellis Island national shrine last week, he set in motion the wheels that in some eight to ten years, with the help of about $12 million, will make some such conversation possible. The overgrown, 27.5-acre island in New York's harbor through which passed more than 16 million immigrants between 1892 and 1954 is about to be redone, partially as a collection of romantic ruins, in part as a great reinforced concrete memorial facing on its own open, grassy plaza.

Architect for the project is Manhattan's Philip Johnson, 59, whose taste in the past has run more toward elegant modern museums. In the case of Ellis Island, Johnson decided, the existing turn-of-the-century architecture was scarcely worth preserving, but the nostalgia certainly was. His solution is to take the two major structures, the immigrant station and hospital, turn them into romantic, vine-covered ruins. Pedestrian walkways will wind through the gutted buildings. "The point," he explained, "is to let the spectator himself re-create the feeling of those hard times."

To memorialize the immigrants, he proposes a massive, vertically ribbed cone, with ramps inside and out, to be called the "Wall of the 16 Million."

On it will 'be placed plaques listing as many immigrants' names as can be found in the ships' old passenger lists.

Ellis Island is 1,700 ft. across the water from the Statue of Liberty. Johnson, who wanted to call attention to the is land without insulting the lady, has designed the monument to rise 130 ft., bulking large enough to be visible from around the harbor, but still about 20 ft. lower than Liberty's pedestal.

In time Ellis Island will be further enriched. Johnson foresees more recreational facilities, a fortress-shaped restaurant, a pyramidal viewing platform. But the first task, Johnson explains, is to "stabilize the ruins, preserve the nostalgia." Secretary Udall, for one, was delighted. Said he: "Here we see what art and architecture and history can do when we bring them all together."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.