"To use Governors Island as a park is a simple absurdity," said the lieutenant governor of New York in 1901. That's just one delicious anecdote from Ann Buttenwieser's new history: Governors Island: The Jewel of New York Harbor.
Lt. Gov. Timothy Woodruff went on to say, "The island is an absolute necessity for military uses." Proposed bills in Congress would have made it a park as early as the 1880's, but the military prevailed. And when the Army felt that the original island wasn't big enough for its mission they added another 103.5 acres - the southern, non-historic "half." The mission, of course, was the defense of New York harbor, but the expansion made the Island a navigational hazard in the very waters it was supposed to protect. So they added a foghorn.

Lt. Gov. Timothy Woodruff went on to say, "The island is an absolute necessity for military uses." Proposed bills in Congress would have made it a park as early as the 1880's, but the military prevailed. And when the Army felt that the original island wasn't big enough for its mission they added another 103.5 acres - the southern, non-historic "half." The mission, of course, was the defense of New York harbor, but the expansion made the Island a navigational hazard in the very waters it was supposed to protect. So they added a foghorn.

Old New York Harbor map with smaller Governors Island
prior to 103.5-acre landfill expansion in the early 1900's
Harbor activist Buttenwieser chronicles the Island through almost four centuries, from natives and Dutch in the 1600's through Army and Coast Guard to GIPEC (of which she is a director). She gives life to things that happened and things that didn't - real people, not just forts and historic houses. There was a military think tank and a band school, there were prisoners in Castle Williams (nicknamed "Castle Bill") and executions (the first hanging of a spy since Nathan Hale in 1776). There were elegant garden parties, polo and golf.
But a suggestion that the forts be razed for landfill got nowhere, thank goodness, and the failed argument for an island airport stretched over two decades. Congressman and later mayor Fiorello LaGuardia wasn't the only proponent, though possibly the most hyperbolic when he said, "No greater monument to the life and activity of the Republic can be imagined than Governors Island as a national airport."
Buttenwieser documents the development of the island in great detail, but the parts about people are easier reading. There's a whole chapter on women (with a sub-section on dogs). The wife of General Winfield Scott Hancock embroidered altar cloths for the chapel. When WAC's were stationed here in World War II the Army installed a wall two feet thick in the barracks, and created a "date room" where the sexes could meet. "Coast Guard wives were clearly the heart and soul of [the] island" in its final 30 years as a base, Buttenwieser says; left ashore with the kids when husbands went to sea, they created "the unique sense of a small town."
"Two questions would be asked again and again... in the twentieth century," writes Buttenwieser. "Should it be turned over the city for a park [or] should it be sold to the highest bidder?" Fortunately, it is becoming a park.
The book is abundantly illustrated with historic photos and postcards from the author's own collection. It is on sale at the NPS bookstore near the ferry landing.
But a suggestion that the forts be razed for landfill got nowhere, thank goodness, and the failed argument for an island airport stretched over two decades. Congressman and later mayor Fiorello LaGuardia wasn't the only proponent, though possibly the most hyperbolic when he said, "No greater monument to the life and activity of the Republic can be imagined than Governors Island as a national airport."
Buttenwieser documents the development of the island in great detail, but the parts about people are easier reading. There's a whole chapter on women (with a sub-section on dogs). The wife of General Winfield Scott Hancock embroidered altar cloths for the chapel. When WAC's were stationed here in World War II the Army installed a wall two feet thick in the barracks, and created a "date room" where the sexes could meet. "Coast Guard wives were clearly the heart and soul of [the] island" in its final 30 years as a base, Buttenwieser says; left ashore with the kids when husbands went to sea, they created "the unique sense of a small town."
"Two questions would be asked again and again... in the twentieth century," writes Buttenwieser. "Should it be turned over the city for a park [or] should it be sold to the highest bidder?" Fortunately, it is becoming a park.
The book is abundantly illustrated with historic photos and postcards from the author's own collection. It is on sale at the NPS bookstore near the ferry landing.