Plans
The Storrow Drive Tunnel, through which Storrow Drive runs along the Esplanade just north of Clarendon, Berkeley and Arlington Streets, has been deteriorating since it was built in 1951, and by mid-2007 the Department of Conservation and Recreation determined that repairing the tunnel may be impossible because it was not waterproofed when it was built, and damage in the intervening years has been significant. Consequently the tunnel may be rebuilt at a cost upward of $200 million, a project that would require closing critical sections of Storrow Drive to traffic.
Despite the chaos this would cause to drivers, it also could present an opportunity for the city to improve the area. For example, Boston Mayor Thomas Menino has proposed covering Storrow Drive near the pedestrian Fiedler Bridge, replacing the old bridge with a wide, ground-level park space that would better connect the green space of Boston's Public Garden with the Esplanade.
Other plans for the road include closing it to traffic Sunday mornings in the summer, much as is done across the river on Memorial Drive. This would create a recreational area for walking, biking and roller blading on weekends, though some have criticized this proposal as unnecessary due to the presence of the Esplanade paths and the existing Memorial Drive road closure. The drive however is usually closed during the July fourth independence celebration at the Esplanade.
Read more about this topic: Storrow Drive
Famous quotes containing the word plans:
“Architect. One who drafts a plan of your house, and plans a draft of your money.”
—Ambrose Bierce (1842–1914)
“The human mind plans the way, but the LORD directs the steps.”
—Bible: Hebrew, Proverbs 16:9.
“When I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv’d
with plaudits in the capitol, still it was not a happy night for me
that follow’d,
And else when I carous’d, or when my plans were accomplish’d,
still I was not happy,
But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed of perfect health,
refresh’d, singing, inhaling the ripe breath of autumn,”
—Walt Whitman (1819–1892)