Viewing the plaque
July 5, 2011
If you are interested in seeing the memorial plaque, it is possible to call the day care center and arrange for a tour. Be prepared for a little heartache, though. The mosaic, which was designed to be seen in a large space, now makes up one wall of a small classroom. And the dedication text cannot be read because strips of paper have been taped to it.
The tragedy of the memorial plaque
July 5, 2011
I believe that the city intended for the galleria at Onterie Center to remain a permanent public space when it approved the building design in the 1980s. But when a new owner took over the building the commercial space was extended into the galleria. As a result, the wall with the memorial plaque for my father is now hidden inside the space of a large day care center. There is no indication in the building lobby that the plaque even exists.
The technical man
June 30, 2011
The second text is a quotation from my father. He was being interviewed by Engineering News-Record in 1971 for an article about his selection as ENR’s Man of the Year. While discussing his many influential innovations for high-rise design, he reminded the journalist that structures should help make people’s lives better, that technological advancement is not a goal in itself. He always kept this in mind, believing, for instance, that a tall building with a plaza can be preferable to a short, bulky building. What he said at the time of the interview, and what is written on the memorial plaque, is: “The technical man must not be lost in his own technology. He must be able to appreciate life; and life is art, drama, music, and most importantly, people.”
The memorial plaque for my father
June 29, 2011
Onterie Center had two entrances, one for the residences and one for the retail/office space, connected by a lobby, or galleria. Chandra Jha had already planned to involve an artist from Barcelona, Juan Gardy-Artigas, in the galleria design to create a stunning mosaic tile floor. During construction Chandra added a mosaic memorial plaque for my father, also designed by Juan Gardy-Artigas.

The mosaic is quite large, and includes two sections with text. One says:
In Memoriam
Dr. Fazlur Rahman Khan (4-3-29 – 3-27-82)
World-renowned structural engineer, whose lasting contributions to architecture illuminated all our paths. We dedicate this plaque with gratitude to Dr. Khan for his leadership in engineering practice which culminated in this structure, Onterie Center
–his final work.
The document printed for the dedication includes the ending:
Gratefully,
James R. Thompson, Governor, State of Illinois
Michael T. Woelffer, Director, Illinois Department of Commerce and Community Affairs
Chandra K. Jha, for PSM International Corporation
Bruce J. Graham, for Skidmore, Owings and Merrill
Onterie Center
June 29, 2011
In the early 1950s it was still unusual to see someone from the Indian subcontinent walking on Michigan Avenue in Chicago. So when my father and Chandra K. Jha saw each other, they stopped to say hello. My father had spent three years at the University of Illinois in Urbana, and his visa allowed him to remain in the United States for another two years for professional training (that is, he could get a job as a structural engineer). Chandra Jha was also a structural engineer, but his interest was in construction management. The two young men liked each other immediately, and soon became friends.
They remained close friends and when Chandra left construction and became a developer around 1980, he asked SOM, where my father was by now a general partner and chief structural engineer, to design his building. Onterie Center, the name selected for the 60-story tower, was significant for my father for another reason: it was his first design for a concrete trussed tube. It is a strikingly elegant concrete structure, and, as it turned out, his last design. He never saw the building completed.

Lafayette Day
May 20, 2011
Today is “Massachusetts Lafayette Day.” This day of tribute was established in 1935 on the anniversary of Lafayette’s death, May 20, 1834.
The statue’s broken chain
April 25, 2011
Learning about Laboulaye and Bartholdi also helped me make sense of the individual features of the statue. Bartholdi included traditional symbols of liberty in his design, without explanation. Most people agree that, while using traditional symbols, he intended to evoke America’s particular experiences and achievements. In most cases, however, there’s room for interpretation; the trampled chain is one such case, its full meaning disputed ever since the statue’s unveiling. The chain may, as has often been asserted, refer solely to the Revolutionary period in American history, symbolizing America’s liberty from the oppression of British authority, which is also represented by the date of independence written on the tablet. But I came to a different conclusion.
Bartholdi designed the statue in the decade following the American Civil War. People in France had followed the war’s progress and many people, among them Laboulaye, had supported Abraham Lincoln and strongly advocated the abolition of slavery. Six years after the war’s end, Bartholdi visited the U.S. He saw how the war’s memory and effects were clearly present in people’s lives, and he met with abolitionists such as Charles Sumner. For these reasons and more, I am convinced that the trampled chain symbolizes not only America’s independence from Britain, but also, and even primarily, the abolition of slavery in the U.S.
Chauncey Depew, the invited orator at the statue’s unveiling, associated slavery with the broken chain at Liberty’s feet during the unveiling ceremony in 1886. “The development of Liberty was impossible,” he declared, “while she was shackled to the slave.” I believe that the statue’s main sponsors and creators all shared this sentiment.
And yet the statue was readily stripped of this important meaning. For so many years.
My interest in Laboulaye
April 25, 2011
In writing Enlightening the World, I felt that it was important to learn as much as possible about the people who shaped the statue. And as I learned about Édouard Laboulaye, I came to really like him. He was a legal scholar who sincerely longed for justice and the protection of human rights and human dignity. Susan B. Anthony referred to him as a friend of the women’s movement, he was president of the French Anti-Slavery Society, he concerned himself with the treatment of military prisoners, and he urged his fellow citizens (living under the rule of Napoleon III) to yearn for liberty. His novel Paris in America was impressive, but so too were his short stories for children, lovely tales with lessons such as “not only assist, but respect, the poor.”
Laboulaye’s enduring admiration of America, her founding fathers, and the system of government they initiated was widely known in France. When he proposed that the people of France and the U.S. jointly build a monument to liberty and to American independence, he reminded the French of the role they had played in America’s achievement of independence and of the special friendship between the two peoples that was established during the American Revolutionary War.
However the enormity of the project Laboulaye undertook and the remarkable commitment he made to it have led people to question his motives. Practically denying the goodwill of the French people, some writers have suggested that the statue was essentially a self-serving political device. Because Laboulaye taught that the American form of government offered an example to the French (and other people around the world seeking change from authoritarian rule), the statue has been called a ploy, planned by the liberals in France to bolster their program.
This seems to me a highly skeptical approach. Limited access to information about Laboulaye and the other main figures responsible for the statue may be partly to blame. For instance, Auguste Bartholdi’s journal entries and letters home during his visit to the U.S. in 1871 offer clues to his design and to his own commitment to the statue. But they were referred to only through secondary sources in studies in the 1970s and 1980s. The journal and letters were probably difficult to consult prior to their arrival at the New York Public Library in the mid-1980s, which might explain their omission. In addition, new detailed studies of Laboulaye, Bartholdi, Richard Morris Hunt, and Gustave Eiffel have also been completed in the last twenty years.
My research convinced me that, although Laboulaye may have been slightly misguided, having never visited the U.S. himself, his faith in the strong bonds of a unique kinship between the American and French people was sincere. He recalled the enthusiastic reception Lafayette received during his visit to the U.S. in 1824-1825 and believed that the sense of friendship displayed by Americans he met in Paris was shared by many Americans. He had numerous contacts in the U.S. and he anticipated a favorable response to the idea of a monument to liberty, accomplished through the combined efforts of the French and American people.
Laboulaye’s novel
April 19, 2011
Laboulaye was known in France as a legal scholar and a member of the Institut de France, as well as an authority on the U.S. Constitution and American history. He established the first course of lectures on the U.S. at the Collège de France in Paris in 1849, and in the early 1860s he published a 3-volume history of the United States. Wanting to share his admiration of America’s form of government with a wider audience, Laboulaye decided to write a novel.
His story aimed to depict the benefits of individual political liberty to society. His lesson was a serious one, but Laboulaye clearly had fun with this tale. My favorite part is the opening section, which culminates in the narrator’s heroism his first day in America.
Paris in America starts with a séance in France one evening; the following morning the narrator wakes to find that he, together with his family and neighbors, has been transported to Massachusetts, “Paris, MA,” that is. After discovering the comforts of an American home (such as running water for one’s bath) and meeting his Americanized wife and children, he hears the calls of a fire. Aghast at the idea that he could be a volunteer fireman (“A singular idea,” the narrator exclaims, “to risk one’s own skin for strangers, when firemen might be hired!”), he is dressed and set on a truck to join his fellow fire fighters. To his surprise he dashes up a ladder, saves a child from a burning building, and becomes a hero — celebrated for one day, until other news captures the headlines the following morning. The story abounds with stereotypes and caricature but the humor in which it is written shines through and even Laboulaye’s mocking of social customs, particularly those of the French, are understood to be the criticisms of one who loves his country. It seems that people in both France and the U.S. enjoyed and appreciated this witty political novel. I have had leisure to look into Laboulaye’s “dream,” Lincoln’s secretary of state William Seward said of the book, “and am infinitely pleased with its humor as well as its spirit.”
