The fair buildings faced on both land and water, 

 and Olmsted specified that people should be able to en- 

 ter on foot or by boat. He chose the styles of boats to be 

 used, thinking of them in aesthetic terms as elements in 

 his landscape composition, just like the flocks of domes- 

 tic ducks and geese that were released in the waters. 



Olmsted faced a serious problem in deciding what 

 plants to use to decorate the shores of his lagoons. Since 

 the lagoons connected with the lake, they would be sub- 

 ject to the same variations in water levels as Lake Michi- 

 gan. He solved his problem by sending gangs of men out 

 to scour the marshes and ponds of Illinois and Wisconsin 

 to collect cattails, flags, rushes, irises, and pond lilies. 

 The men gathered several million plants, enough to fill 

 75 boxcars, and Olmsted's crews replanted them at the 

 new site. 



The Wooded Island was to be a refuge from the 

 noise and crowds of the fair, a quiet place where visitors 

 could feel close to nature and whence they could look 

 out over the shimmering waters of the lagoons at the 

 fair's pavilions. 



Olmsted knew that there would be tremendous 

 pressures put on him to allow exhibits on Wooded 

 Island. He fought all of them, but was finally forced to 

 yield. A small Japanese exhibit, including a teahouse, 

 was placed at the north end of the island, and some 

 horticultural exhibits were placed amidst the sylvan re- 

 treat he had planned. 



Some parts of the Japanese exhibit remained after 

 the closing of the fair, and in 1935, the teahouse re- 

 opened. Young girls in kimonos served visitors. 



According to Doug Anderson, who is a sort of un- 



official historian of Wooded Island, the teahouse was a 

 big attraction, and the late thirties probably saw more 

 visitors to Wooded Island than any time since the fair. 

 Unfortunately, December 7, 1941, put a temporary end 

 to the exotic charm of things Japanese, and during 

 World War II, vandals burned down the teahouse. 



Other people were using the island too. Clarence 

 Darrow used to come there often. He had little interest 

 in nature, although he had learned something about 

 birds while defending Leopold and Loeb. The two bril- 

 liant, twisted young men were active birders who had 

 managed to publish in ornithological journals while they 

 were still teenagers. 



Darrow apparently came to Wooded Island for the 

 peace that surrounds the place, and when he died in 

 1938, his ashes — at his request — were scattered in the 

 lagoon from the bridge that connects the north end of 

 the island to the mainland. Every year on the an- 

 niversary of his death, people gather for a memorial 

 service on the Clarence Darrow Bridge. 



Senator Paul Douglas loved the island too. He 

 came there frequently in his years as a University of Chi- 

 cago economics professor and alderman from the Fifth 

 Ward. After his election to the Senate he was in 

 Washington most of the time, but upon his retirement in 

 1966, he again became a regular visitor. His ashes were 

 scattered in the formal Japanese garden recently restored 

 by the Park District on the site of the long ago teahouse. 



After the Senator's death in 1978, Doug Anderson 

 asked the Park District board to designate Wooded Is- 

 land as the Paul Douglas Nature Sanctuary, and the 

 board complied. 



The lesser black-backed gull 



(Larus fuscus), which breeds 



in Europe, has been sighted 



just across the lagoon from 



Wooded Island. 



19 



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