The water shuttle to Encore Boston Harbor casino thrums up the Mystic River toward Everett, carrying an eclectic cast of characters: a lone financier tapping at his phone, a young couple taking selfies, a bearded man wearing a red MAGA hat who said he is homeless.
The boat passes former scrapyards and gritty warehouses, remnants of the Mystic’s industrial heritage. Then, as it approaches a bend in the river, a bronze and glass tower appears, the single word “Encore” shimmering in gold script at its top like a $2.6 billion monument to the idea that everything in its glow, including the hardscrabble city of Everett, would be transformed.
