All Over Albany

What would Albany be like today if the Empire State Plaza had not been built?

It's Other Timelines week on AOA, in which we'll be looking at alternate histories of this place, about big and small things that did or did not happen.

Albany has a long history -- more than three centuries as an incorporated place -- so there have been plenty of "what if" points along the way.

But the biggest one, literally and figuratively, might be this: What would Albany be like today if the Empire State Plaza had not been built?

We proposed that question to a bunch of local historian-minded people...

98 Acres in Albany

Instead of the South Mall, in 1962, Mayor Erastus Corning successfully persuaded Gov. Nelson Rockefeller to build a new state office complex in Sheridan Hollow. (To sweeten the deal, Corning promised that the county would finance the construction through its bond sales.) The "severely blighted" area identified by city planner Isadore Candeub was bounded by Clinton Ave and Elk Street on the north and south, Eagle and Swan streets on the east and west, with a possible extension to Lark Street. Of course, Rocky insisted on appropriating all 18 blocks from Eagle to Lark.

The so-called "North Mall" was part of a larger plan to resuscitate Albany's central business district and restore Arbor Hill's fading luster. Of course, it meant the demolition of hundreds of homes and small shops and the displacement of roughly 2,800 resident, most of them poor and disproportionately black. These former residents continue to this day to mourn their lost homes, while preservationists deplore the destruction of historic structures, including Elk Street's "Quality Row," former home to Franklin D. Roosevelt and a host of Pruyns and Van Rensselaers.

Due in part to the difficult terrain, construction of the massive modernist complex took longer and cost more than the state's overly optimistic projections. During this period, many nearby residents and businesses were driven away by the noise, dirt, and road closures -- though bars near the work site boomed.

When construction was finally completed in the mid-1970s, the adjacent areas came back to life. Gentrification traveled up Clinton Ave to West Hill and north to Tivoli Park. North Pearl shopping stabilized, and soon restaurants were packed, particularly during lunch and happy hour. Artists and musicians flocked to the warehouse district on Broadway, in search of affordable studio space. By the turn of the century, some (local) observers began calling North Albany the "new Brooklyn."

98 Acres in Albany is history project working to digitally reconstruct and repopulate the area replaced by the Empire State Plaza. Prompted in part by this question, it recently looked at the actual story of the plan mentioned above.

Anthony Opalka

With my educational background in architectural history and urban planning, I have spent a good portion of my life thinking about this question. Although I remember North Pearl St as a vibrant shopping district in my childhood when my family took the bus from Watervliet to downtown Albany to visit my mother's family near the Governor's Mansion and I took in the sights and sounds of that part of Albany in the late 1950s and early 1960s, it was in adulthood that I formed more coherent thoughts about the impact of the plaza on Albany and what might have been if it hadn't been built.

Albany: Comprehensive Plan for Downtown, what I think of as the "alternative plan" published by urban planners in 1962 as an argument about putting the plaza somewhere else, reflects my thoughts.

When speaking of what they called The Capital (sic) Hill Neighborhood, they said this:

The neighborhood, bounded by Washington Park on the West, State Street on the north, Eagle Street on the east, and Lincoln Park on the south, is potentially the most valuable high-density residential area in the city. The neighborhood has an unusually strong location for continued residential use and for new residential construction, in view of its location near two major parks, existing state offices and the Central Business District. It includes many public and semi-public institutions including the Governor's Mansion which is a residential use appropriate to the residential neighborhood.

While housing in the neighborhood is generally quite old, it is of a type which is suitable for rehabilitation. The area already has many examples of rehabilitation of brownstone and frame structures into excellent town houses. Few cities in the country are favored with this type of residential structure in a neighborhood as advantageously located as this. Where such cities have taken advantage of the opportunity to preserve such areas, as in the Georgetown area of Washington, D.C., they have created outstanding neighborhoods with great historical interest.

Continued residential use of the neighborhood is important to the future of the central business district, since this neighborhood can provide housing to higher income families living within the immediate vicinity of downtown. It is therefore considered important that the residential facilities in the area be encouraged and expanded.

In another section of the document, they also talk about the interesting residential neighborhood adjacent to the market area, essentially what is now known as the Mansion Neighborhood. They also comment on the medieval character of parts of downtown that reflect the city's (then) 350-year history and how this would serve to enhance Albany's potential as a tourist draw.

To me, this plan, while not perfect, says it all.

Anthony Opalka is the Albany city historian.

Don Rittner

Albany would be more than 9000 people richer in terms of population and diversity. The destruction of so many neighborhoods, mom-and-pop stores, and the destruction of much of Albany's historic infrastructure was a disaster to Albany. As shown in the Mary Paley documentary, The Neighborhood That Disappeared, the disruption of so many lives of mostly immigrant families had a devastating effect on the social fabric of the city.

There is nothing special about the architecture of marble that replaced the architectural diversity that marked the mall area. The architectural diversity that was destroyed and built by so many immigrants, many by hand, can never be replaced in terms of style, substance, and craftsmanship. The Mall replaced a vibrant area full of life on a 24-hour cycle. The Mall area after 5 pm is a ghost town. It is my opinion that Albany is much poorer as a city because of this monstrosity.

Don Rittner is an author, historian, archeologist, and producer.

Albany Archives

If the Empire State Plaza hadn't been built something else would have.

The state had been toying with some sort of government complex since the Capitol fire in 1911. Looking around at other state capitols on the east coast, many (not all) had moved away from the neighborhood environment and replaced their residential with park land or government facilities. I think it was inevitable with Albany as well, even in an alternate timeline.

The version that would've been cooked up probably wouldn't have been so grandiose as the one we have now, though. The homes along the State Street block were still bulldozed, with the exception for one (we'll get to that), and the area still repurposed into state office buildings, including the justice building and two office buildings. The Chestnut Street blocks suffered the same fate, but instead of buildings, green space was installed to create a boundary between the neighborhood and state buildings in the form of a park that ran from Swan to Eagle Street with an intersection at Hawk St. The park was named in honor of famed local scientist Joseph Henry.

The Myers residence at State and Swan. / photo via the Albany Public Library

The one building on State Street to survive was the old Myers Mansion, which was turned into a historic inn that many politicians, even to this day, still frequent. Like the Historic Myers Inn, the rest of the area remained. The neighborhood that survived, the southern half of the 98 acres, suffered through much of the 1960s and 70s when suburban sprawl became a popular trend. The early to mid-1980s saw the neighborhood curse reversed, young people were moving back into this part of the city, buying the property south of Henry Park at bargain deals. It's now one of the prime spots to live in the city, similar to its neighbor to the west, Center Square.

Combined, those two neighborhoods have won numerous accolades for its preservation and is looked at by many tourists as an area similar to the Old City district of Philadelphia or the historic section of Annapolis.

Matt Malette is the creator of Albany Archives.

Maeve McEneny Johnson

When the ESP was built, families across the country were already beginning to trade stoops and sidewalks for picket fences and manicured lawns. I can't imagine that Albany residents would be any different.

Inevitably, the single family row houses would have been transformed into multi-unit, rental apartments. But who would be renovating these homes? Absentee landlords from New York City? Or a grown grandchild living in Colonie that inherited the old family house? In this non-ESP world, I suspect the latter.

Emotional investment would remain strong for city neighborhoods, in a way we don't always see today. After all, human beings fight to keep what they can see. (48 Hudson is a perfect example of passionate Albanians trying to visually recapture our story with visuals) When neighborhood-defining farmers markers, shops and parades are suddenly in danger of disappearing, I imagine there would be organized movements to save what was once so important to our families. Maybe we'd lose, but it would be worth the fight.

By the mid-2000s, millennials would flee suburbs for the convenience of urban living. Summer stoop sits would return to the neighborhood and new traditions will be born. The 4th of July firework show in Rensselaer would remain a downtown Albany favorite -- but enjoyed from our own waterfront.

Maeve McEneny Johnson, Program Coordinator at the Albany County Convention and Visitors Bureau.

Julie O'Connor

Click the image for a larger version.

What would Albany look like today if the Empire State Plaza had been built as originally conceived? The original plan as proposed by the Temporary State Commission on the Capital City in 1962 and 1963 was substantially different from what we see today. I think that explains, in part, why so many city residents, including some of those who lived in the "take" area were willing to go along with it. The Plaza was conceived as just one part of a plan that extended throughout downtown Albany.

In addition to the Plaza itself, there would have been: + Hotel with parking garage + High rise apartments - middle income and luxury + Pedestrian promenade leading to retail area + Heliport + Marina and yacht club + Boardwalk with restaurants + Creative arts center + Convention center + "Historic" park + Theater + Library + Private office buildings + Renovated retail core

Some of it came true, over several decades.

Julie O'Connor is part of the Friends of Albany History group, and also maintains the Capital City Vintage Fashion & Style page. She's AlbanyMuskrat on Twitter.

Carl Johnson

Imagine It's A Wonderful Life, but with the Empire State Plaza in the role of George Bailey.

OK, Empire State Plaza, you got your wish. You were never born - now look at what your site looks like. All those ugly little office buildings across from the Capitol, the ones that look like 150 State Street? Well, those are because they needed new offices, but didn't want anything blocking the Capitol. Those steel and glass towers another block south, the ones that look sorta like Ten Eyck Plaza? Well, they still needed to house all those workers... and, no, the towers don't match. No one seemed to think that mattered. And they finally built a new State Museum, over on the corner of Swan and State, but it wasn't much bigger than the old one; they just ran out of money for it.

All those blocks between Swan and Hawk, from Lancaster down to Hudson? Parking garages. Parking garages as far as the eye can see. Why? Well, you were never born, and building all that underground structure for parking was considered impractical. Even though there were still people in the neighborhood, a lot of the churches moved out anyway. Some got reused, some tumbled down.

The Palace Theater was never saved, because everyone focused on restoring the Eagle Theater, right there on Eagle Street, but it was in a crumbling old armory building, and 830 seats wasn't enough to put on the big shows, so it closed too. With no Eagle, and no Palace, and no Egg, the cultural events moved to Schenectady. The Albany Symphony? That's the Electric City Orchestra. World famous, too. Yep, everything happens over at Proctor's now.

What happened to Hudson-Jay Park, you ask? Well, that was never a park, because the old Normans Kill Dairy was never torn down. It's a yogurt bar now.

There were some good things. Hawk Street mostly became a pedestrian plaza. The Central Market stayed in its place up on Madison and Swan, still with the foundation of the old church showing. Price Chopper, they called it later. All those houses over on the Madison end of your site, well, most of them got fixed up, and it's a nice little neighborhood. Not much of one, even though people think you're to blame for that... lots of other things pushed people out of that part of town.

So you see, Empire State Plaza, you didn't have such a bad little life after all.

Carl Johnson blogs about local history at Hoxsie.

Martin Daley

July 1961.

Nelson Rockefeller woke up in a cold sweat. It had been nearly two years since Princess Juliana came for her visit. As he fumbled for the glass of water on the nightstand the Governor remembered how embarrassed he'd been on their tour of the city that fateful, cool September day. Nelson remembered how quiet the Princess was, how a hush fell over her at the sight of dilapidated buildings, the poverty. He gulped down the water, struggling to remember the dream. "Water..." he mumbled to himself.

(keep reading)

Martin Daley is a planner and Albany native. He has a love/hate relationship with the Empire State Plaza."

Paula Lemire

I can imagine an Albany in which the Plaza was proposed, but successfully opposed by local activists and preservationists. And that the battle to fight the Plaza sparked a positive and widespread surge of restoration and purposeful redevelopment that carried over to today. That the countless historic homes, churches, and other buildings were spared for the wrecking ball and beautifully adapted to modern reuse giving Albany a much larger and active downtown than the current one which, despite some changes in recent years, is still more or less just a district of offices and (with some exceptions) smaller businesses that support the offices.

The Plaza as it exists now takes up a massive amount of space in the heart of the city, but is really not a part of it. In some ways, it's cut off from the city it occupies and many of the amenities it does offer are only for the benefit of the people who work there or visitors, but not really for the neighbors who lived around it and (to a great extent) bear the burden of it. I think that great isolation and disconnect diminishes the sense of community here.

A successful opposition to the Plaza and a subsequent wave of interest in preserving the neighborhoods and addressing those parts that were indeed blighted could have been a beautiful renaissance for this old city.

Paula Lemire is a local historian and creator of Albany Rural - Beyond The Graves on Facebook. Her family owned properties in the zone taken by the ESP, and as she said to, has "lived in its shadow for my entire life."