Jazz Hands Courtesy of Alissa Fleck

There’s no “behind the scenes” of a City Council hearing, particularly one as contentious and impassioned as the recent hearing on NYU’s proposed expansion. Indeed the spectacle unfolded without pretense.

(by Alissa Fleck)

Last week at 8 a.m. on the morning of the hearing, plan opponents clutching massive, colorful banners flooded the City Hall steps in protest. They were tree-huggers, “village crazies,” dejected faculty, curmudgeons and idealists alike.

They fluttered their signs in the air while speakers growled into the microphone in front of them. Unfortunately the marriage of wind and a lackluster microphone muted most of the speeches.

One speaker said: “NYU tells us they will create open space!”

“IT’S A LIE!” shouted someone behind me. “IT’S A LIE!” joined others in chorus.

At the rally’s conclusion, Greenwich Village Society for Historic Preservation (GVSHP) Executive Director Andrew Berman, who, with his vehemence could have stepped straight out of a Kinks song, asked the press if they had any questions.

Not a moment after he’d asked, protesters behind him broke out into raucous chant, replete with fist pumps. After a few minutes, Berman turned to the mass behind him: “Everybody get your regulation-sized signs,” he said. He said something about how it would be a long day, I expected him to add few would make it out alive.

The subsequent rally in support of the proposal consisted of approximately three people. “I’m in favor!” said one man, urging press people to come forward and ask him questions. They appeared reluctant, as though they were waiting on someone more noteworthy.

As I tried to make my way into City Hall, a crazed bottleneck formed at the entrance. Security attempted to filter in an even number of supporters and opponents, but made exceptions for anyone who said they had to use the bathroom. As men in “BUILD IT!” shirts trickled in, protesters, well, protested.

“Why do they get to go in and not us?” they demanded.

So many protesters filled the balcony, a few lay down on the steps. A woman on the ground next to me, dressed for what could have been a day of gardening, appeared to slip in and out of consciousness.

In the crowd, another woman turned around and addressed the man behind her:

“You’re a union guy, aren’t you!” she said.

“Look I need a job, I got a kid,” he said. “I don’t even really know what’s going on.”

“That’s the problem!” She attempted to unload one of her extra signs on him. “Come on, why don’t you just take it?”

A security officer tried to bring order by organizing testifiers.

“Is there a Milton in the crowd?” he asked.

“I’m Milton,” said an older man in the balcony.

“Are you in favor or opposition?”

“What?”

(It took a few more tries, as Milton was evidently hard of hearing.)

“Are you in favor or opposition?”

“OPPOSED ALL THE WAY!” he shouted down from the balcony. The crowd exploded with applause.

“Another outbreak like that and you will be kicked out for the rest of the hearing,” said the security officer.

Council Member Mark Weprin insisted audience members use jazz hands only to express approval. The consistent reprimands and reminders to use jazz hands only did little to suppress the boos, hisses, laughter and chants which, when done in unison, could not be attributed to any single defiant individual.

I briefly wandered down from the balcony to see if I could get closer to the proceedings. I walked into the ground floor section, only to be interrogated by a security guard. I told him I would just stand in the back for a moment. “No, you won’t,” he said. I walked back out of the chambers and a woman outside snarled (in reference to NYU President John Sexton): “Is he still SPOUTING that BULLSH*T?” “The bullsh*t is unbelievable!” responded another.

Sexton’s speech went something like this:

“We need to be able to attract an outstanding genomicist.” Laughter.  (Maybe people think are envisioning someone studying adorable garden gnomes.)

“It would be obstructive to build anywhere else.” More laughter.

“Many of our students work three jobs and it’s because they want to be here.” Riptide of laughter.

“This is not a development project.” Laughter plus a few audience members get booted.

Often these proceedings boil down to sleights of rhetoric and shiftiness, as when extensive confusion ensued over the delineations between “green space,” “open space,” “open green space,” “public space” and “public green space.”

Then there was the discussion during which I decided, three hours in, it was time for my personal intermission. With more highfalutin jargon and sophistication than a high-schooler being disciplined, but no less evasion and otherwise not much difference, Councilman Robert Jackson drilled Sexton on whether or not he was being honest. Filtering out the excess, it went roughly something like this:

“But are you actually being as honest as possible?”

“Yes, I am being honest.”

“Okay, but, are you actually being honest?”

Texas native Robert Jackson spent three and a half years compiling a complete history of a structure far from his home, something 33 million East Coasters pass through every year—the Holland Tunnel. Built in 1927, this daily part of New Yorkers’ lives was at the time the longest and largest vehicular tunnel in the entire world, the first to utilize a ventilation system.

Robert Jackson

In Highway Under the Hudson, Jackson delves into not only the history of this famous tunnel but the drama behind its construction, the people involved and the unique engineering that took place. “Engineering has played a major role in the social and economic development of our country, impacting our character and our attitudes,” he said. “In nearly every instance, there are fascinating and untold stories behind the creation of ‘engineered’ elements of our built environment, such as bridges, tunnels and highways.”

Since 1995, Jackson, who also works as an urban and environmental planner, has written about the nation’s engineering and industrial heritage, including in his previous book about St. Louis’ Eads Bridge.

What drew you to writing about the Holland Tunnel?

A few years ago, Director of New York University Press Steve Maikowski decided that a book on the Holland Tunnel needed to be written and he began searching for an author. I was recommended to him and was eager to accept the challenge due to my strong interest in the history of transportation engineering. After reading my history of the Eads Bridge, Steve decided that I was the right person to tackle the story and the rest, as they say, is history.

This is a very rich history; how did you start your research?

I began my research by contacting the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey to see what records it retained from the state commissions that built the tunnel, before they merged with the Port Authority in 1930. Unfortunately, all of those records had been stored in the Port Authority library in the World Trade Center and were lost on 9/11. But the New York State Library and Archives in Albany and the New York Public Library had enough material to get me started. I also relied upon the C. M. Holland Collection at Case Western University and found other bits and pieces of documentation in other libraries as I went along.

What surprised you most about the Holland Tunnel?

When I began, I assumed that the tunnel had been built primarily for use by passenger vehicles, with truck traffic being of lesser importance. Just the opposite was true; it was built to facilitate the movement of freight from New Jersey to New York, with accommodation of passenger vehicles a secondary consideration. I was also surprised to find that, around the time of World War I, approximately 50 percent of the nation’s foreign trade annually passed through the port of New York.

What did not surprise me because I have studied other great construction projects but might surprise others is the cost in human life of building and maintaining a major piece of urban infrastructure. By my count, at least 14 workers died during construction of the tunnel, though it was thought that only 13 had died until I did my research. Also, two men, one firefighter and one patrol officer, died during the fire of 1949. It had previously been assumed that no one died because of the fire. In addition, two of the chief engineers died from overwork while the tunnel was under construction.

How does the Holland Tunnel compare to other large passenger tunnels?

There are many other vehicular tunnels that exceed the Holland Tunnel in size, length or visual beauty, but the Holland Tunnel holds a unique place in the history of tunnel engineering as the first such structure that was mechanically ventilated. It thus influenced the design of virtually every vehicular tunnel that came after it. It will never relinquish its place as a seminal work of civil and mechanical engineering.

How long do you think the tunnel will last?

All great works of humankind are destined to fade away at some point, but, as the title of my last chapter states, the Holland Tunnel was built to last. I believe that with proper maintenance, it will remain in use long after you and I are gone.

What structure would you like to write a book on next?

I’m currently working on a historical fiction crime novel set in Dallas in 1936. After that, I want to do a documentary film about a subject that I’m keeping to myself, for now. I would hate for someone else to beat me to it.

Sandhogs waiting during the construction of the Holland Tunnel.

In the mayor’s budget, $30,000 was chopped from the $190,000 each board receives. The money goes toward office expenses and the staff that handle day-to-day operations.

Community boards have an advisory vote on land-use issues and certain business licenses. But for residents, the boards provide a venue to voice concern, criticism or praise for development projects and quality of life issues.

Borough President Scott Stringer, who made community board reform a cornerstone of his first term, called the cuts outrageous, noting that 1990 was the last time community boards saw a raise in their budgets.

“The city’s proposed cut to community board budgets threatens the first line of democracy in our city,” Stringer said.

Comptroller William Thompson, Bloomberg’s rival for mayor, said the cut will render community boards ineffective.

“They’re the eyes and ears for our government, and the eyes and ears for our borough presidents,” Thompson said. “The mayor is trying to reduce their voice, cut them to the point where he can turn around and say, let’s get rid of community boards and borough presidents.”

The Council members in attendance promised to restore the cuts, if not increase the budget. Council Member Robert Jackson of Harlem, part of the budget negotiating team, said if Albany passes the city’s revenue package, there will be money for the boards.

Helen Rosenthal, chair of the Upper West Side’s Community Board 7, said that the budget cuts stifle 8 million people from voicing their opinions.

“We need this forum where people can have their say,” Rosenthal said.