By Anthony Faiola
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
NEW YORK -- The rumors waft along the boardwalk, floating from the lips of gossipy locals, strong as the scent of ketchup and sauerkraut on frankfurters under the scorching Brooklyn sun. Didyahear? The rides may soon be closing. See, the go-karts, they're already gone. What's that you say? They're going to knock down the place and rebuild? Whadayatalk. This can't be the last summer of Coney Island.
No. By most accounts, it is not. But it could be the last summer of Coney Island as we know it.
The birthplace of the roller coaster and the American hot dog is set to fall into the same powerful grip of New York City gentrification that cleaned up Times Square and brought luxury lofts to Hell's Kitchen. Thor Equities, a mall and commercial real estate developer, has amassed much of Coney Island's six-block-long amusement area, with public hearings expected later this summer on a $1.5 billion redesign of the area into an upscale techno theme park with retail space, high-rise timeshare towers and hotels.
True, Coney Island has seen better days. From its glittering start as a pioneer of American amusement -- a turn-of-the-last-century menagerie of racetracks, novelty rides and vice -- the magical sandbar on the edge of Brooklyn has morphed into a shrunken husk of kitsch.
It nevertheless hung on as a bastion of old-time New York shtick and a refuge in this hyper-priced city for families and lovers seeking shoestring laughs. Chuy the Mexican Wolf Man still performs his high-wire act at Sideshow by the Sea. A ride on the storied wood-and-steel Cyclone costs $6. Add a greasy lunch on the boardwalk and you're out just 10 bucks.
Change is already afoot. Landlord disputes and squabbles with the eager developers, who hope to break ground within 18 months, caused the operators of Coney's Island's miniature golf course, boat ride and go-karts to close this year, leaving parts of the area boarded up. More plan to hit the road by summer's end.
Talk now is of luring the likes of Starbucks and T.G.I. Friday's to a district long famous for independent food stalls with hand-painted signs. A modern "Coney Island Park" with a vertical roller coaster and digital hall of mirrors would replace the cheap carny rides and decidedly low-tech game arcades that dot Astroland, Coney Island's largest surviving amusement park.
Supporters of the snazzy redevelopment say the run-down place needs a new look -- "a Coney Island for the 21st century," better suited to New York's evolution into a city that is safer, cleaner and richer than at any point in its modern history. But other New Yorkers are aghast, seeing it as the symbolic last nail in the coffin of the rough-edged fun that once made New York New York.
This city's once-serendipitous streets, they say, have gradually devolved into a bland collection of chain stores, over-conceptualized restaurants and upscale retail spaces that, while larger and higher-priced, increasingly have little else to separate them from similar fare elsewhere in America. They point to redeveloped Times Square, now kid-safe and complete with the world's largest Toys "R" Us, but bereft of urban vibe. They look at SoHo, once an edgy artists district with affordable lofts now fully transformed into multimillion-dollar spaces for Wall Street executives and the stores that love them, including Dolce & Gabbana, Prada and Chanel.
The cheap thrills at Coney Island stood apart from the ubiquity.
"It's all a chain of sad events," said Fran Lebowitz, the noted New York denizen and author. "Manhattan has become psychotically expensive, turning Brooklyn, where no one used to go, into the home of the $8 million condo. Now they've set their eyes on Coney Island and we'll lose that, too. . . . What we are losing -- no, have already lost -- is the authenticity of New York."
Not fair, say some on Coney Island, who look to the unabashed wealth elsewhere in the new New York with envy and desire.
"Look, I think Coney Island needs to be more ritzy; you know, do something that's gonna bring in the people with the money," said Anthony Berlingieri, operator of Shoot the Freak, a boardwalk game where paying customers shoot paintball guns at a live human target. He is an outspoken supporter of the redevelopment proposal presented by New York-based Thor Equities.
"You got some people out here, they're just opposed to change, ya see," he continued in his heavy Brooklyn accent. "But I say, look at the rest of New York. Look at the progress and all these affluent people everywhere. Hey, why shouldn't Coney Island get a piece of that?"
In fact, they argue, Coney Island would merely be going back to its roots as a place to amaze the masses with the latest entertainment technology.
That is the way it started. When the 19th-century rich of New York were retreating to the grand hotels of nearby Manhattan Beach, the working class found refuge from lives of hard labor at Coney Island's beaches, vaudeville houses, music halls and revolutionary amusement parks. Decades into the 20th century, they gaped at Luna Park, a fantasy city of brilliantly lighted minarets, domes, globes and spires. They rode the mechanical horses at Steeplechase Park and delighted in esplanades filled with exotic Middle Eastern dancers, snake charmers and fire eaters.
That Coney Island later went downhill is not in dispute. Luna Park burned down in 1944. The cult classic film "The Warriors" captured the gang violence that engulfed Coney Island and much of New York during the 1970s. A small collection of rides built next to the Wonder Wheel in the 1980s was the major upgrade to the area.
"Everyone's fear is that I'm going to turn this thing into Fairyland Parkland or something, with lots of trees and grass with some la-la idealistic vision," said Joseph J. Sitt, the Brooklyn-born chief executive of Thor Equities. "But that's not what I'm going to do. I'm not going to take away that urban feel of Coney Island. I want to bring it back."
Sitt's initial plan also called for high-rise condominiums. It sparked immediate fears that his real aim was to reduce the attraction component of Coney Island, given that residential real estate is unlikely to coexist well with a loud amusement zone.
He has since turned those condos into plans for high-rise timeshares and hotels instead. But many critics -- including city officials who must pass judgment on the project -- remain skeptical. His sharpest critics have said he may simply be seeking zoning changes to flip the land at a higher price. Others insist he will make Coney Island too upscale, rendering it unaffordable for the working-class citizens who now frequent the boardwalk. Sitt, however, insists neither will happen.
Some attractions -- including the Cyclone roller coaster and the old Parachute Jump -- are historic landmarks protected by the city and cannot be torn down. But preservationists have criticized Sitt for what appear to be plans to tear down two other, unprotected spots -- including the Grasshorn Building, the oldest standing structure on Coney Island.
The biggest controversy, however, remains Sitt's contention that he needs hotels and timeshares as high as 40 stories to make his redeveloped Coney Island financially viable. They would, he says, help him turn Coney Island -- now open only during the summer months -- into a year-round destination.
But critics say such structures would dwarf the island's landmarks, ruining its quaint appeal. Meanwhile, his plans to spruce up the joint -- "you know, like bring in a bookstore with a Starbucks in it," he said -- have many crying foul.
"He wants to bling it up; he wants to bring in all this retail and create a kind of enclosed mall with high-rise towers," said Robert Lieber, president of the New York City Economic Development Corp. "That isn't consistent with the historic nature of Coney Island."
If he fails to win approval for his vision, many still fear for Coney Island's fate. Will the land just sit vacant and unused? Will another developer come in? If so, with what designs?
"We all want a revitalized Coney Island, but what they're proposing would change the nature of a place that touched the hearts of millions of people," said Charles Denson, executive director of the Coney Island History Project. "We all want to see improvements, but all those high-rises? That's not Coney Island."
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