Originally published in the
by Bill Merritt
To the Editor:
A few weeks ago, Eustace Mita announced that the Ferris wheel would no longer be part of any venue he created at 600 Boardwalk. His explanation was that its condition had deteriorated and it could no longer operate safely.
The public response was predictable: outrage. Mita had promised to incorporate the Ferris wheel into his proposed high-rise resort, as ill-conceived as that resort was. Preserving the ride was part of his pitch for public support.
Now that promise was gone, amid serious questions about whether his own neglect had contributed to the deterioration.
That was the first shoe to drop. After the Ferris wheel announcement, residents naturally asked about the historic carousel, another centerpiece of Mita’s promises. What was its condition? Was it still part of his project? Would he restore it?
The second shoe hit the ground at the Oct. 22 City Council meeting. First, Councilman Tony Polcini suggested it was time to let the carousel go. Mayor Jay Gillian backed up that sentiment, describing mechanical problems requiring extensive repair. Both questioned the wisdom of spending city money to save it.
But why was this suddenly a discussion about city money? Restoring and housing the carousel was Mita’s commitment. If he still intended to fulfill it, there would be no reason to debate whether taxpayers should bear that expense.
The likely answer is that, like the Ferris wheel, the carousel is no longer part of Mita’s plans. And it appears Mr. Polcini and the mayor were trying to get ahead of the possibility that Mita would abandon his commitment to restore it, and try to leave the city to shoulder the costs.
If so, they were right to fend that play off. But the situation amplifies already serious questions about Mita’s promises.
His hi-rise resort was always out of place in terms of size and scale. He tried to compensate for that by selling the community on a vision: Icona at Wonderland … an iconic Ferris wheel … an historic carousel, and a resort that would preserve something of Wonderland’s legacy.
But these promises all seem to be unraveling, either because they were empty promises to begin with, or they were irresponsible ones made without sound factual foundation. Neither excuse is good.
To be clear: it is not the city’s job to save the carousel. But broken promises should not become a death sentence for an historic treasure. And there are options:
First, if Mita himself wants to build a project based on the zoning plan developed by the city, then it is perfectly reasonable for the city to insist that he keep his promise on the carousel. Indeed, incorporating aspects of Wonderland into future 600 Boardwalk projects was recommended in the Boardwalk Subcommittee Report.
Second, if he does not want to build (likely) and the property is going to change hands, a future developer might see value in incorporating the carousel into their design. Why destroy that possibility before we know?
Third, even if the carousel cannot remain at 600 Boardwalk, it might find a home elsewhere on the island. Perhaps Mita and local residents could together explore an arrangement. Could he donate the carousel, securing for himself whatever tax benefit might be available? Could donors and preservation partners fund its dismantling, protection, restoration and eventual installation? Could Ocean City’s carousel and Asbury Park’s carousel building find a happy home together?
None of that would be free or simple, and private supporters would need to take the lead.
But is it worth trying, and Mita should work cooperatively to find a good resolution. Our carousel is rare. Built by the Philadelphia Toboggan Company in 1926, it carries years and years of Ocean City history and family memories. It deserves the chance to create more.
Bill Merritt
Ocean City 2050
