Walking through Cadman Plaza Park you can hear the steady buzz of traffic from the offramp of the Brooklyn Bridge. A black wrought-iron fence cuts off the northern portion of the park. This is where Brooklyn ends. Nearby is a forgotten marble and brass memorial. None of the parkgoers walking by stop to look, or even notice it. The memorial is to a William Jay Gaynor, mayor of New York City from 1910 to 1913. Gaynor–along with his statue–is mostly forgotten now (although William Bryk devoted an "Old Smoke" column in New York Press to him last December); or if he is remembered it is because he is the only NYC mayor to be shot while in office: a disgruntled ex-city employee shot Gaynor in the throat. The bullet remained lodged there for three years, until his death.

Above the slab of marble is a brass bust of Gaynor. He has a severe, hawklike face, a full beard, and the upturned collar that was all the rage in 1910 New York. Off to the side is a brass relief of angels weeping, and on the back in fading letters is the legend: William Jay Gaynor–Defender of Civil Liberties. The text goes on with the facts: born on Feb. 23, 1851 in the upstate New York town of Oriskany; state Supreme Court justice from 1894 to 1909. It ends with Gaynor’s clinical motto, "Ours is a government of laws not man."

It is a warm summer day and sitting in the shade at the base of the monument, under a London plane whose leaves ripple with a light breeze, is a relief. In front of the statue is a field of grass worn down from the heat. Young kids from a nearby camp run across it, screeching with glee as they play a chaotic game of tag. It’s the boys against the girls as frustrated camp counselors try to corral them with little luck. On the benches office workers watch the fun as they slowly munch on deli sandwiches and take long slugs of soda.

I saw scores of people pass by Gaynor’s monument, since the nearby path is used as a shortcut across Cadman Plaza. I turned and looked up at Gaynor and thought about how short the shelf life of a New York mayor is. Giuliani is still in office and already the city is in the process of forgetting him. He’s become old news–page 12-Post style.

I stood up and asked a few people passing by if they knew who William Gaynor was. I drew blanks until one woman looked at the statue and said, "Isn’t that him? I pass here every day and I have noticed it. It says he was the mayor, right?"

Then I decided to take a more recent historical survey. I asked a few workers if they could name the last few New York mayors. Most–the younger ones–easily named Giuliani, Dinkins and Koch. It seems pre-Koch mayors are now pretty much forgotten. A few middle-aged people could name Beame, Lindsay and Wagner. After that it was a shrug. One older man, a lawyer, was able to take it all the way back to LaGuardia. I got dizzy listening to all the names.

After this informal survey I sat and thought: It’s bad enough being William Gaynor and being gone and forgotten, but there are politicians holding office today who are as forgotten as he is. If you don’t have a lawsuit or a criminal case pending, very few Brooklynites could name one state Supreme Court justice, yet it was out of that elected position that Gaynor was able to ride the groundswell that got his mayoral bid rolling. Now judges toil in anonymity.

I thought about state senators and assemblymen–as invisible as the judges–and asked a few young men passing by who the Brooklyn Borough President is. No one knew. One young black kid said, "I don’t know and why should I? What’s that nigga ever done for me?