SAN JUAN, Puerto  Rico     (AP) – The fortress-like facade of the Oso Blanco prison looms  over a gritty neighborhood in the Puerto Rican capital, and even larger  in the imagination of many on the island.
 But  perhaps for not much longer. The Puerto Rican government, which  struggled for decades to gain control of the prison known as the  “Alcatraz of the Caribbean,” wants to demolish most of the cavernous  structure and build an office park aimed at attracting high-tech  businesses.
 Preservationists and historians  say not so fast. The Rio Piedras State Penitentiary is considered a  magnificent example of Art Deco architecture. It’s also part of history,  though it’s a dark chapter featuring brutality and mismanagement.
 “This  prison has been a very real part of the lives of Puerto Ricans for more  than 80 years,” said archaeologist and preservationist Aida Belen, who  has been a consultant to the government on what to do with Oso Blanco.  “So many of us have had a brother, a cousin, an uncle, a neighbor, a  relative who was in Oso Blanco. We’ve all known someone.”
 Gov.  Alejandro Garcia Padilla surprised and angered some people by  mentioning during a budget speech last month that demolition had begun.  Since then, officials have been besieged with phone calls and a growing  social media campaign hoping to stop the wrecking ball and preserve at  least part of the prison as a museum, gallery or open-air park. The  former Alcatraz Island federal prison in San Francisco Bay itself is a  tourist attraction, with daily tours.
 The  fight over Oso Blanco is a familiar one in Puerto Rico, where clashes  over new developments have occurred as remnants of colonial Spanish  architecture compete for space with gleaming new beach hotels and  upscale condos.
 “Unfortunately, many  architectural treasures have disappeared,” said Pilarin Ferrer,  president of Puerto Rico’s Association of Landscape Architects. “This is  why everyone is so worried.”
 Andy Rivera,  president of Puerto Rico Historic Buildings Drawings Society, filed a  court petition to suspend the demolition until the studies that  recommend such an action be made public, but he was denied. A local  senator filed a similar measure this week, joining activists who  question whether it’s really true that the building is unsafe and  unstable.
 Rivera, an architect, said he wants  independent experts to evaluate the building and accused the government  of letting Oso Blanco deteriorate on purpose.
 “This is the last prime real estate left in San Juan,” he said. “That’s why Oso Blanco is considered a nuisance.”
 Oso  Blanco is on the National Register of Historic Places and was named  after the cement brand used to build it. Among its claims to fame: a  1974 exhibition fight featuring boxing legend Muhammad Ali, who sparred  with an inmate while Puerto Rican actress and singer Iris Chacon served  as referee.
 Ferrer pointed out that a former  jail in colonial Old San Juan houses the island’s Tourism Company and  says Oso Blanco holds great promise.
 “I would  hate to see the memory of that structure erased,” she said.  “Architecture reveals who we were, what we did, who lived there.”
 Oso  Blanco opened in 1933, heralded as the island’s first prison aimed at  rehabilitating criminals. It featured workshops and an inmate-run farm.  But the vision crumbled amid overcrowding that began in the 1950s and  violent clashes among inmates and guards. It soon gave birth to two  notorious gangs, whose members launched a violent war for supremacy.
 Hundreds  of inmates were killed, including some who were cut up into pieces.  Belen said the warring gangs would sometimes incorporate human remains  of their victims into meals they prepared, warning fellow gang members  not to eat that day, she said.
 “Body parts were found as this was happening,” she said. “These are not suppositions.”
 Former  inmate Edmidio Marin Pagan, convicted of killing a police officer  during a 1950s uprising led by Puerto Rican nationalists, shudders at  the memory of his six years in Oso Blanco.
 “It was hell,” Marin, 79, said. “You expected to be killed there.”
 The  prison was built to accommodate between 500 and 800 inmates, but it  once housed more than 2,600 prisoners, forcing hundreds to sleep in  stairways and hallways. On some days, the population swelled to 5,000,  including men awaiting transfer to other facilities.
 A  2009 documentary titled “Oso Blanco” reported that there were just 12  guards for more than 1,000 prisoners, with new inmates greeted by shouts  of “fresh meat!”
 “This was like a time bomb,” prison guard Cesar Flores said in the documentary. “You never knew when it was going to blow.”
 In  1979, inmates filed a class-action lawsuit against Puerto Rico’s  government that exposed the prison’s overcrowding and other problems,  leading to its 2004 closure. But inmate relocation was slow, and the  government paid $250 million in federal fines in a 33-year-old legal  fight.
 Ivan Rios, the official overseeing the  demolition from the former guards’ barracks, said plans call for saving  some elements, including the prison facade, marked with the words “Hate  the Crime and Pity the Criminal.”
 But Rios,  interim executive director of the Puerto Rico Science, Research and  Technology Trust, also called for turning the prison’s negative past  into a positive future. The agency owns the former prison and the  surrounding property, which is slated to be the site of a $196  million-dollar cancer treatment center scheduled to open in April 2016.
 “We  certainly believe that a collective memory of that magnitude involving  negative things and death should give way to a collective memory of  science, of progress, of innovation,” Rios said.
 One  of the prison’s walls is currently being demolished, with backhoes  eating into the peeling, bone-white structure. The government said it  removed asbestos and lead at the site and demolished the prison’s former  hospital and administrative offices nearby.
 Belen said several people involved in the project were devastated to learn it was too expensive to save the entire prison.
 “We  all went into this project with hopes of restoring the building,” she  said. “But we all realized that it would be an irresponsible alternative  in terms of security and cost.”
  




