In the late 19th Century the working classes needed escape from the daily trauma of merciless bosses of low paid jobs and the railroads constructed narrow-gauge lines leading out of the cities to summer destinations such as lakes and beaches. Boston’s Brahmins cautiously accepted this invasion of the suburbs as long as the destinations were far from their wealthy enclaves.
Revere Beach was the northern terminus for the working classes.
The beach was safe for families.
Thousands came every weekend for relaxation and a good time.
The Ocean Pier stretched 1400 feet into the ocean.
The cyclone was the tallest roller coaster on the East Coast.
Its descent was wicked steep.
I rode it once in 1966.
Coming from the South Shore I was impressed, but Revere was at the opposite side of Boston, so my summers were spent at Wollaston Beach, the Quincy Quarries or Nantasket Beach. Amusement parks deteriorsated in the 1960s.Kids smoked pot. They had their own lives. One by one the The Whip, Ferris Wheel, Bluebeard’s Palace, Fun House, Hurley’s Dodgems, the Pit, Himalaya, Hippodrome, Sandy’s, the Wild Mouse, and the Virginia Reel shut down and the 1978 winter storm did the rest.
The beach was gone.
Urban renewal finished off what the storm had left behind.
There is not much left today.
Kelly’s Roast Beef.
A bridge leading to the beach.
An old clock.
The beach.
And the Atlantic.
It’s always there.
Nothing else
To see the lost wonders of the past of Revere Beach, please go to this URL