There would be no disturbances of the aquatic environment; on the other hand, Boston traffic would be disrupted for over a decade. As for landfill, it has become an utterly verboten, shudderproducing thought in New York City, at least for the next halfcentury, which is «on OR THE BATTLE OF WESTWAY 107 qUTBOARD, b bly Any large structures proposed for piers or platforms, to cast on water routes frequented by fish. P a f00tball stadium or a museum on the riverfront's edge, can antic of obstructive litigation because of the shadows they would ipate years expect I fhe highrise development close to the Hudson River that the West Villagers feared Westway would bring (and which, in fact, Westway might have controlled better, given its need to compromise) has occurred anyway, . face of zoning and landmark restrictions. Some community planning boards approve larger buildings because of their stararchitect cachet-vide, for instance, Richard Meier's vitrinelike twin towers, on West Street and Perry. For the most part, the West Village got a slew of viewblocking highrise apartment houses faced in hideously bland, chunky orange brick, with showersized balconies. The old West Side Highway has remained in place, only now it is reconfigured as Route 9A, an "urban boulevard." Parts of this roadway are 140 feet wide, meaning you can't get across them in one light, short of breaking the hundredyarddash record, and it takes a minimum of two lights with a baby carriage. WITH WESTWAY'S DEMISE, the old, decaying piers became the focus of plans to convert the waterfront to recreational use. Once thought nuisances and eyesores, these rotting structures were suddenly imbued with tremendous nostalgic value. In part it was the charm of ruins, and in part a more practical consideration: since no new structures could be built into the river, and since any replacement road for the West Side Highway would leave skimpy land at best for a waterside park, these piers represented significant splinters of potential public space. Whatever had once been a pier, however chewedup by neglect or shipworms, could be "restored" (that is, reconstructed to its outermost original point and redecked) and turned into a place to stroll, bike, surfboard, or fish. Indeed, these piers were seen as offering New Yorkers a novel Sensurround experience of the river, by allow mg them to leave the shore and go farther "into" the water for purposes of contemplation. "At the end of the day, Hudson River Park is the piers," I as tQld by Mike Ludwig, the marine biologist who had helped defeat grtway Ludwig and A1 Butzel were among the antiWestway advocates who decided to salvage something positive from the campaign, and put their energies into building Hudson River Park. Marci Benstock, on the other hand, steadfastly opposed the new venture. Butzel and Benstock, f0r_ mer comradesinarms, fell out and became bitter enemies. I spoke to both parties-separately, of course.