A river runs through it
When Harvard crew coach Harry Parker first arrived on campus in 1960, a fetid smell still draped the Charles River from upstream industries. Tires and other debris washed downstream after heavy rains. A simple fall into the water required a tetanus shot. “The river was foul,” said the now-legendary Parker, who has spent six days a week on the open water for half a century. “Now, it’s wonderful.” The University today enjoys a simmering romance with the Charles, whose tree-lined vistas help to shape Harvard’s iconic image. There is the sweep of calm water, a lone rower in a slender scull, lush shoreline trees, and handsome brick buildings just beyond, their domes sparkling in the sun — components that make up what Anita Berrizbeitia, a professor of landscape architecture at the Harvard Graduate School of Design (GSD), calls one of the most picturesque college vistas in the world. Meanwhile, Harvard’s scholars have a...