“Why do they call it ‘The Fly’?” someone once asked me. We were strolling along the Mississippi, the afternoon sun dappling through the trees of Audubon Park. The Fly, that grassy expanse where families picnicked and frisbees sailed, stretched out before us. “It doesn’t look much like a fly.” I smiled. “You’re right, it doesn’t. But it used to.” You see, long before the soccer games and kite-flying contests, this section of Riverview Park, what we call The Fly, boasted a unique landmark. In the 1960s, a modernist, butterfly-shaped shelter graced this spot. People came from all over to admire its unique design and enjoy panoramic views of the mighty Mississippi. Sadly, The Fly’s iconic butterfly met a tragic end. One foggy morning, a barge, its path obscured by the mist, plowed right into the delicate structure. Though attempts were made to salvage it, the damage was too extensive. The butterfly was demolished, leaving a void in the landscape and a peculiar nickname in its wake. So, while you won’t see a giant insect here anymore, the name The Fly remains. A poignant reminder of a time when a butterfly soared over the Mississippi, its wings forever etched in the memory of Audubon Park.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to