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City Hall

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

CITY HALL IS AT Government Center, a short walk from the Park Street subway station, just past the movie theatre where the Beatles' movies come to town. It is a strange-looking building with two big cement eyes which stare out at passing citizens. Strange, but appropriate, for when you look around at the other buildings, it is almost frightening how sterile and monstrous they are. The John F. Kennedy Federal Building, where you go to get your passport, and where the Internal Revenue Service gobbles up your money, stretches up much higher than City Hall in row after row of windows and cement. It reminds you of the billions of dollars spent on TFX airplanes which crash, and of the wealth spent on M-16 rifles which don't work.

City Hall is different. It is modest. You can afford to be, when you have a history like Boston's. Names like Lowell, Cabot, Lodge, Peabody, Adams or Quincy have a certain presence which does not have to be heightened by skyscrapers or polished with chrome.

City Hall also has character. On the outside there are those funny windows. Inside, there is a vast open room with a wonderful feeling of space and light which encourages those transcendant emotions you feel when looking out over tiny farms and woods from a mountain top. Those of you who have ever been in the old city hall know how depressing dim halls and dark wood paneling can be.

It is most fitting that the City Hall of Boston have character and independence. After all, the Mayor inherits his office from such men as James Michael Curley.

Perhaps City Hall is deceptive. Perhaps behind those tall doors the same old politics goes on, the same old expediency and self-interest, the same old favors in return for patronage. But, one feels there might be a new spirit injected into the old game. After all, how many city halls have you been in which have their own art gallery?

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