By 1974, Cambridge opponents channeled their feelings into a concrete proposal, and called for splitting the institution. Their recommendation--eventually adopted by both the Boston Redevelopment Authority and Harvard--called for keeping the archives in Harvard Square and moving the museum into an existing building in the Charlestown Navy Yard. Meanwhile, everybody waited for an environmental impact report prepared by the government's General Services Administration (GSA).
When the GSA report was released in February 1975, opponents greeted it with skepticism, filing requests for the original consultants' reports, which they felt had found problems where the GSA summary dismissed them. Sensing a long-term court battle and feeling the steady crunch of inflation, the Library Corporation--whose representatives in Cambridge had tried unsuccessfully to placate resident' fears--announced it would not build both the museum and archives in Cambridge.
The Library Corporation's decision brought an unexpected response, triggering almost frantic bids for a piece of the prestigious memorial. President Robert C. Wood of the University of Massachusetts was the first of 175 interested parties out of the starting blocks, issuing an invitiation to the corporation to come to either the UMass Boston or Amherst campus. Wood, The Crimson reported, "launched a massive campaign to bring the memorial to UMass even when the odds were ridiculously stacked against him." It was early 1975. Charles U. Daly, then vice president for government and community affairs, commented: "Ten years ago if someone put forward the Columbia Point site it would have been dismissed as ridiculous. But it isn't ten years ago."
Daly's prophecy proved right, for by November 1975 the library corporation had narrowed its choice down to two alternatives--the Cambridge/Charlestown archives/museum split or the Columbia Point "we'll take the whole thing" option. While Cambridge residents continued to protest, Dorchester opened its arms and welcomed the library. It was, as Dan H. Fenn Jr. '44, director of the library, says, a "very, very painful, difficult, unhappy time for everyone." President Kennedy had, after all, personally favored a Harvard site. But as family members and library corporation officers retreated for a now-famous weekend meeting in New York, Harvard Square seemed less than hospitable.
What exactly took place at the closed-door discussion may never be known, but in the end, the library corporation opted for the UMass proposal. Speaking at a Nov 24, 1975, press conference, Senator Kennedy said that "President Kennedy was very much a public figure and it is entirely appropriate that any library, museum or archive that carries his name be very much in the public eye. He would have wanted it that way."
The senator attacked what he called "a small group of intransigent opponents" in Cambridge, adding that the library corporation had decided the institution's two halves should not be split. Fenn says that although the President did want the library at Harvard, "the corporation was not willing to accept conditions which residents essentially imposed." In retrospect, says one source close to the family, the corporation had to make a choice whether the split-site proposal was worth the trouble--and they decided that it wasn't.
Some very bad blood, however, still flowed beneath the public explanations. It is widely rumored that the Kennedy family was angry--angry over the residents' opposition, angry that a memorial to the late president had been raked over the coals of controversy. At a caucus during the final meeting, Kennedy family members are said to have acquiesced to Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis's wishes that the UMass site be chosen. Sources close to the library corporation say that while discussion at the decisive meeting focused on logistical problems of a split-site, the vote was more influenced by perceptions of citizens' attitudes. At any rate, the old MBTA site reverted to the Commonwealth and the state donated 12 acres on Columbia Point for the library, despite some feeling that, in terms of economic development, a better site could have been found. Pei returned to his New York studio and drew up a fifth set of plans--the glass and pre-formed concrete structure which officials will dedicate on October 20.
University and city officials today are still separated by the divisions of four years ago. Both Duehay and Steiner think the Columbia Point location is more accessible than the Square and better for the library. Steiner says the library would have been a "touristic appendage" to Harvard, whereas at UMass 'it is a center of attention and attraction which stands in its own right." Councilor Sullivan, on the other hand, still believes a small group of "neighbors kicked the hell out of" the proposal and that "the citizens of Cambridge screwed themselves." Jonathan Moore, director of the Institute of Politics, hopes the library will be successful, adding that "any sense of disappointment of not having the whole cluster is well behind us." Some city officials, meanwhile, remain bitterly disappointed--officials who might agree with Crane's position: "October 20 is a day of mourning as far as Cambridge is concerned."