The Great Big, Beautiful Tomorrow

At the 1964 World’s Fair, the Space Age led the way to world peace, happiness, and fast cars.

Inside the domed Spacearium, visitors saw To the Moon and Beyond. The flat roof of the “Terrace on the Park” doubled as a helipad. (Courtesy David Eppen)
Air & Space Magazine | Subscribe

In the spring of 1964, in an asphalt meadow in Queens, New York, mothers in Laura Petrie dresses, fathers in “Mad Men” suits, and kids in thrall to their sci-fi dreams boarded a ride called Futurama for a seven-minute trip to the next century.

With its limitless faith in material and social progress (the official motto was “Peace Through Understanding”), the 1964-1965 New York World’s Fair was in many ways the apex of the American Century. The General Motors Pavilion—shaped like a ’64 Cadillac Fleetwood with soaring tail fins—was just one of dozens of government- and corporate-sponsored exhibits that aimed to show a tomorrow-scape of rocket-packs and picture phones, an expanding cosmos of commerce and transportation (the day the fair opened, the first Ford Mustang was unveiled).

For 10 cents a ticket, fair-goers could watch the film To the Moon and Beyond inside the Cinerama Spacearium 360. They could marvel at Ford Motor Company’s Magic Skyway and Kodak’s Magic Moondeck. And in Space Park, they could see NASA’s real-life rockets up close, at a time when astronauts were taking the first steps into the cosmos.

“There’s a great big, beautiful tomorrow, shining at the end of every day,” visitors were promised by Walt Disney’s Animatronic robots gliding through General Electric’s Carousel of Progress. Over two six-month seasons, more than 51 million people visited the fair.

But tomorrow turned out to be not so easily predictable. It was the year the Beatles came to America and Cassius Clay changed his name to Muhammad Ali. While President Lyndon B. Johnson delivered the welcoming speech on the fair’s opening day, April 22, 1964, the chants of civil rights protestors could be heard. By the time the World’s Fair closed—having lost money—in October 1965, America had changed, and so had its view of the future.

Someday We'll All Have These

(The 140-foot-high "Unisphere" (shown with rocket man Robert Courter buzzing past) was the fair's most visible symbol. Photo: NY Daily News Via Getty Images)

“In ten years, maybe less, some of you will be up here flying with me,” promised high-flying Robert F. Courter Jr. of the Bell Aerosystems Corporation, who performed three times daily in Leon Leonidoff’s Wonderworld spectacular at the fair’s 10,000-seat (but often nearly empty) Lake Amusement Area amphitheatre.

With his 125-pound jet pack providing a maximum of 21 seconds of air time, Courter’s specialty was to lift off, orbit the globe-like Unisphere, and land in the arms of Broadway star Chita Rivera.

Courter made hundreds of jet-pack flights during the fair, and for 25 years thereafter. A former P-51 Mustang combat pilot during the Korean War, he died in 2013.

About Allen Abel

Brooklyn native Allen Abel attended the fair more than 40 times as a 14- and 15-year-old, then spent his college summers traveling to fairs in Montreal, San Antonio, and Osaka. His most recent article for Air & Space followed the specially trained ranger-pilots who patrol our largest national parks.

Read more from this author

Comment on this Story

comments powered by Disqus