The concrete jungle is no stranger to change. The Dutch arrived in Manhattan some 400 years ago and wanted to make ”New Amsterdam” feel more like Old Amsterdam. Their earliest structures, while primitive by today’s standards, defined many of the island’s iconic landmarks. The Here Gracht foreshadowed Broad Street in both route and dimensions. They built a fort on Bowling Green that is now the site of the Alexander Hamilton Customs House. You’ll get a kick out of this one. A wooden wall was constructed on the northern edge of the settlement that stretched from the East River to the Hudson River. This fortification lives on today as Wall Street.

New Amsterdam became New York in September of 1664 as control of the settlement was turned over to the British. It saw rapid expansion in the ensuing years as businesses were established along the waterfront. After the American Revolution, New York City was anointed as the Nation’s first capital, and while its time in the political spotlight only lasted five years, it eventually became the cornerstone of the financial world. The New York Stock Exchange was founded under a buttonwood tree on Wall Street and the rest is history.

Of course, the journey hasn’t been without its missteps. The Great Fire of 1776 wiped out nearly a third of the city and another blaze in 1811 destroyed another 100 buildings, but both times the city roared back taller and stronger than before. Lower Manhattan’s fortunes would take a turn for the worst around the turn of the century. 

The office building boom that had been primarily focused downtown crept into other parts of the city. The Chanin, Chrysler, and Empire State Buildings were all erected in the East 40s while dilapidated buildings to the north were leveled to make way for the Rockefeller Center. The Great Depression also stopped talks of new construction in the area before they even began. What really spelled disaster was, ironically, the economic surge that followed World War II. 

Americans returning from the war could use the GI Bill to purchase homes. In New York City, those that were previously city dwellers were now able to move out of the densely-packed metropolis and into the suburbs. Companies followed suit so they could be closer to their employees. This migration, the Great Depression, and the wandering eyes of urban developers all contributed to Downtown’s decline. Not a single building was added to its skyline between 1929 and the early 1950s, and the ones that did eventually go up did little to pull the region out of its slump. Nearly 150 office buildings totaling 30,000,000 square feet of rentable office space were constructed in Manhattan. Fewer than 30 of them were built in Lower Manhattan.

The worsening condition of the area deeply worried businessmen who had real estate in the area, including David Rockefeller. The grandson of the notorious oil tycoon was rumored to have had tens of millions of dollars tied up in the area. If this trend continued, then the losses would have been catastrophic. Fortunately, he was one of the elite few that had the power and resources to do something about it.

MAN OF THE HOUR

David Rockefeller was an executive at Chase Manhattan Bank. His journey with the company began in 1946 after he accepted a job offer from his uncle. It wasn’t a mere family recommendation, as this uncle was Winthrop Aldrich, the chairman of what was known as Chase National Bank. He began as an assistant manager and quickly rose through the ranks. 

His meteoric ascension within Chase coincided with another event. In 1955, the bank merged with the Bank of Manhattan Company to form Chase Manhattan Bank. This new, enormous company needed a base of operations to match. A move out of the city seemed inevitable, but Rockefeller saw an opportunity to salvage his downtown investments. 

He successfully lobbied for them to plant their flag in the heart of Manhattan. Instead of following the competition out to the suburbs, the company consolidated its 9 locations and 8,700 employees to the Skidmore, Owings, and Merril-designed Chase Manhattan Bank Tower. This was the first major development in the area in decades.

The mere word of the project set off a bit of a construction boom in the area. In a few short years, Lower Manhattan went from a ghost town to the epicenter of work, though this wasn’t the full-on renaissance that he was anticipating. Lower Manhattan was still primarily comprised of banks, insurance agencies, and shipping offices. It could hardly match the hustle and bustle that was happening elsewhere on the island. The only other building of significance that was announced during this time was 140 Broadway, and even this was primarily leased to banks and investment firms when it opened.

He knew that the area needed to diversify if it was to break out of its malaise. While the Chase Manhattan Bank Tower was under construction, David Rockefeller formed the Downtown-Lower Manhattan Association, which was focused on revitalizing the region. The group then hired SOM to conduct a survey on the area.

They proposed a $1 billion plan that would see the reinvention of the entire financial district. They sought to expand the focus of the local economy from strictly banking and into other sectors. Their focus would be on an area outlined on the west from Canal to Cortlandt Street and on the east from Battery Park to the Brooklyn Bridge. Most of the old construction here would be torn down, leaving them with about 100 blocks of vacant land. SOM also presented Rockefeller with ways in which they could utilize the space.

Some streets would be blocked off to create super locks while others would be widened for traffic loops. Talks of a Lower East Manhattan Expressway were thrown around. The East River piers could be demolished to make way for an esplanade, heliport, and boat marine. They also discussed possibilities for housing developments along the Brooklyn Bridge as well as a new home for the New York Stock Exchange. Lost in the mix of these possibilities was the revival of a decades-old trade center proposal.

The topic intrigued David’s father, John D. Rockefeller Jr. He wanted to promote international trade by providing foreign banks and governments with a base of operations in The United States. World War II spelled an end to these plans, but talks of the trade center were reignited after its conclusion. 

New York Legislature set up a World Trade Corporation in 1946 “to establish and develop a World Trade Center… for exhibiting and otherwise promoting the purchase and sale of products in international trade.” Conceptual plans called for a $140 million complex of 12 buildings that spanned about 10 blocks. The project didn’t get much further than this before reality set in. In order to be considered a success, 5,000 of the estimated 5,900 large industrial firms in the country would have to take up space there. It was also impossible to gauge business needs so soon after the war, so the program was shelved once again. 

David Rockefeller presented the SOM proposal to New York Mayor Rober F. Wagner Jr. and then asked SOM to expand on the trade center idea. This new plan was intended to complement the Port of New York, which they described as "the nation's leading port." Therefore, it would be the natural headquarters for a trade center. 

The center would be built on a 13 ½ acre site south of the Brooklyn Bridge. The area would be cleared of everything aside from No. 120 Wall Street, which couldn’t be acquired. Although this included almost half of what the city would later recognize as the Historic District, the developers didn’t have much in the way of sentimental value for the structures. 

The report characterized the existing structures in that area as "obsolete and deteriorated. Rather than contributing to the economic health of the area and the city they are a drain upon it." 

The architectural details were sketchy at this point, but there were a few points that provided the basis for the trade center. The project would be removed from the normal street grid, have a large pedestrian shopping arcade, and a hotel. In this early proposal, three buildings would rise from a two-story base covering the entire site. The first was a long, low “trade mart” with two open courts. To the south was a 4-story building that would become the new home of the New York Stock Exchange. 

There was one dramatic change from the original 1946 plan. Instead of being primarily focused on sales and exhibition space, the new trade center would have vast amounts of office space. It would all be housed in a 50 to 70 story building at the south end of the complex. It would appeal to trading companies, banks, brokerage firms, and other businesses that could benefit from being in close proximity to the port. Other highlights would include conference and meeting rooms, a multilingual stenograph pool, and an international commerce library. In total, they estimated that they’d need between 5-6 million square feet of space to accommodate everything.

There weren’t many firms that could take on an undertaking of this magnitude, but in their minds, there was only one that was right for the job: The Port Authority.

THE PORT AUTHORITY

By the middle of the 19th century, New York Harbor became the country’s leading port. Two-thirds of all America's Imports and half of all of its exports passed through here, and this success was in spite of crippling logistical issues. The waterfronts in either state weren’t connected. Neither Manhattan nor Staten Island connected to New Jersey. Wharves and piers were built in New York while railroads were built in New Jersey.

This difference in transportation methods made getting goods from one state to another rather cumbersome. Getting cargo that arrived in New Jersey meant loading items up into railroad cars. Conversely, Items going the other way had to be unloaded from the cars and onto boats. This expensive, chaotic approach even hampered The United States’ effort during World War I, as New York Harbor couldn’t get supplies to Western Allies in a timely manner.

Any long-term fix to this problem would need the cooperation of both states. Commissions in New York and New Jersey were established in 1911 to investigate. The first project they set their sights on was a vehicle crossing connecting New Jersey to Manhattan. The planning commission initially favored a bridge because they felt that it wouldn’t be possible to build such a long tunnel. Later projects, most notably the Pennsylvania Railroad North River Tunnels, gave them the confidence to move forward with the proposal.

Clifford M. Holland, its chief engineer, had extensive experience in the field. Prior to this, he oversaw the construction of several crossings, including the Old Slip-Clark Street Tunnel and the Whitehall-Montague Street Tunnel.

Holland and his chief design engineer conducted over 2,000 experiments to try to amend the issue of ventilation. Trains were ideal for tunnels because they were relatively clean. Automobiles were a different story. They estimated that drivers would have been killed by the carbon monoxide emitted from their car by the time they reached the end of the 1 ½ mile crossing. An article from The Daily Beast explains how the engineers were able to air out the tunnel.

“In the Holland Tunnel’s transverse-flow system, fresh air is drawn from the outside through one of four ventilation buildings and blown by fans into a fresh air duct located under each tunnel roadway. The air enters the tunnel proper through narrow slots just above the curb, spaced 10 to 15 feet (3 to 4.5 m) apart. Exhaust fans (also located in the ventilation buildings) pull the exhaust-laden air through openings in the ceiling into an exhaust duct located above the ceiling slab, and discharges it into the open air through the roof of one of the ventilation buildings.”

Holland conceived a revolutionary solution to the ventilation issue, but it came at a tremendous cost. He was born with a fragile heart and the tunneling required strenuous compression and decompression methods. The very nature of the project wore away at his health and mental state. In 1924, the crews that were tunneling through from Manhattan and New Jersey were finally set to break through to meet each other. Shortly before this “holing through” ceremony, Holland suffered a nervous breakdown. He checked into a sanitarium sometime later and then died of a heart attack. His contributions didn’t go unnoticed. It was originally going to be dubbed the Hudson River Vehicular Tunnel, but after his death, it was renamed the Holland Tunnel. 

While work on the tunnel was underway, discussions for larger-scale cooperation between the states were being held. They wanted a large organization that had the ability to tackle multiple projects. State officials conducted a study of public authorities. These are entities that function like private corporations while carrying out the public’s business. This is a pretty new concept in the United States, but it was relatively common elsewhere in the world. One firm that they looked to as a model for their own was the Port of London Authority. 

Public authorities differ from regular corporations in that they don’t use tax money to fund their projects. Instead, investors buy into authority bonds for a given period, giving the firm the means to see their plan out. After this, the Authority will charge the public a fee for its use and the bonds will pay interest at a specified rate until they have been retired. 

This new firm would also have more staying power than your typical commission. Most of those would issue bonds, collect revenue, and then pay off the bonds. When the project was finished and everything was paid for, the commission would cease to exist. Public Authorities would never go out of business as long as they could keep coming up with new projects. 

After years of dancing around the issue, the Port of New York Authority was Founded on April 30th, 1921. It actually went by this name until 1972, when it changed to the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey to better encapsulate the responsibilities the firm held in both states. For the sake of clarity, I’ll simply refer to it as “Port Authority.”

Financially speaking, the firm didn’t have very much going for it when it was first established. The states gave it enough funds to cover its administrative costs, but nothing to actually build anything. While they were able to raise about $1 million through the sale of bonds, they weren’t able to actually issue them until 1926. And while the Holland Tunnel turned out to be a lucrative endeavor, it was under the control of another, separate agency for the time being.

Early projects such as the Goethals Bridge, Outerbridge Crossing, and Bayonne Bridge didn’t do much to amend their early financial woes, but they did bolster Port Authority’s reputation both among professionals and in the eyes of the public. They quietly built up a staff of engineers, lawyers, and real estate experts. 

Soon enough, Port Authority assumed control of the Holland Tunnel and leaned on it as their financial backbone. And it didn’t come a moment too soon. The Great Depression stopped most urban projects in their tracks, but the firm kept chugging along. The New Deal allowed them to break ground on the Midtown Hudson Tunnel. And although work was hard to come by in the resource-rationed war years, they were still busy working out what they could do once the opportunities presented themselves.

Austin Tobin was appointed executive director of the firm in 1942. He was quite young to take over as head of the industrial powerhouse at 39 years old, though his lack of experience didn’t make him any less ambitious. He used the downtime to develop aggressive regional transportation plans. This was a risky move considering the country’s uncertain postwar economic outlook, but it ended up paying massive dividends. The firm saw exponential growth in the late 40s and throughout the entirety of the 50s. According to its 1959 annual report, they controlled 21 terminal and transportation facilities, 6 interstate bridges and tunnels, 4 terminals and a heliport, 6 marine terminal areas, two union motor truck terminals, a motor truck terminal for rail freight, and a union bus terminal.

With its vast financial resources, a legion of experienced engineers and attorneys, and a hard-earned reputation as an organization that got things done, it’s little wonder that the DLMA looked their way when talks of the trade center intensified. 

They first had to determine what a trade center should be, whether it was possible, and whether or not Port Authority should be involved. Starting in the Spring of 1960, the team carried out an enormous amount of research. They studied trade figures, government agencies, real estate values, and whatever else could be applicable to the project. Some aspects of the original SOM plan were tweaked when Port Authority entered the picture, but those changes will be covered in detail in the next part of this series. 

In March of 1961, Port Authority formally presented the proposal for the trade center to New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller, New Jersey Governor Robert Meyner, and New York City mayor Robert Wagner. They made a strong case for the center, providing potential use cases, import and export charts, financing, and architectural plans. 

Those on the New York side were enthusiastic about the initial report, but Meyner didn’t share in their excitement. He felt that a monstrous complex on the east side of Manhattan wouldn’t provide much benefit to the people of New Jersey. He declined to give his support, jeopardizing the fate of the trade center and setting off a years-long political firestorm.

EXODUS

New Jersey had reservations about the trade center because of the state’s own deteriorating transportation infrastructure. This is best reflected in the downfall of the Hudson and Manhattan Railroad. The line originally opened in 1908 to immediate success. It saw 49 million passengers in its first year of operation. Ridership steadily increased until reaching an all-time high of 113 million in 1927. H&M then saw a sharp decline.

The proliferation of the automobile motivated both New York and New Jersey to invest in car-friendly infrastructure. Port Authority undertakings such as the Holland Tunnel, George Washington Bridge, and Lincoln Tunnel were just a few of the projects that lured rail passengers away. H&M filed for bankruptcy in 1954 and by the early 60s ridership fell below 30 million. For years, New Jersey officials begged the firm to intervene, but Austin Tobin saw a losing proposition and refused every time.

With the trade center at stake, New Jersey finally had the leverage necessary to get the Port Authority to take action. A collapse of the state’s public transportation infrastructure would’ve put the bulk of H&Ms remaining ridership onto already congested tunnels and bridges. There was, for a time, a stalemate, but the firm couldn’t hold out for long. They hatched a deal where Port Authority would assume control of the line at a cost of $70 million. They also agreed to commit up to 10 percent of their annual surplus, which amounted to about $7 million, for operating subsidies. There was a catch. The Hudson & Manhattan Railroad would be the only line in New Jersey that the Port Authority would EVER assume control of.

They also gained control of two old, decrepit office towers near the station on the west side of the island. Port Authority felt that they were beyond repair. Instead of spending the $9 million to bring them back to their former glory, they planned on demolishing them and selling the air rights off. Developers could then build office buildings, high-rise apartments, or whatever else their hearts desired. Those old structures were done away with, but then Port Authority made a game-changing discovery. This site, just off the Hudson River, would serve as a more suitable location for the trade center. It was much closer to New Jersey and access was made even easier because it was in close proximity to the rail.

They had the potential to rectify one of the major sticking points that the states had during negotiation, so Port Authority refocused their sights on the opposite side of the island. The plaza would occupy a 13 block area within the boundary of Barclay, Church, Liberty, and West. There was just one snag in their plan: That part of the city was known as Radio Row, a thriving community of working-class businesses, and its inhabitants would go to hell and back to ensure their livelihoods.

The origins of the neighborhood stretch all the way back to 1921 when Harry L. Schneck opened City Radio. It was an emerging technology and there were doubts about its staying power. This didn’t stop other enthusiasts from setting up shop in the area. Digby Auction, Publix Radio, Metro Radio, and Leotone Radio were just a few of the shops that sprung up. Radio proved its value in the ensuing years and the area flourished.

There was a bit of a downturn when World War II broke out, but thanks to surplus parts as well as the rising popularity of television, business surged in the 50s. Existing stores added them to their stock while completely new shops that specialized solely on them were established. Clothing stores, restaurants, and other outlets were also established. At its peak, Radio Row was home to over 300 businesses, 1,000 offices, and about 100 residential tenants. There were also a staggering 30,000 employees. In total, the area raised a yearly revenue of $300,000,000. Radio Row was truly the electronic capital of the world.

Their success did little to deter urban developers. Port Authority appealed to David Rockefeller because of their size, expertise, and ability to raise funds through tolls, but they also had the power of “eminent domain.” Essentially, this allows the US government, states and municipalities to condemn and claim private property for public use. Similar practices in other countries go by different names. It is referred to as expropriation in Canada, compulsory acquisition in Australia, and compulsory purchase in New Zealand, Ireland, and the UK. 

Once a government entity has its sights set on your property, there isn’t much you can do. They’re free to do as they wish as long as they fulfill three requirements. Firstly, just compensation has to be handed out to the displaced parties. Secondly, the involved parties need to be fairly represented and negotiations need to have been allowed. Finally, whatever goes on the seized land has to serve some public good. 

The people of Radio Row fought back despite the ironclad legal terms. They formed the Downtown West Businessmen’s Association and took Port Authority to court. The DWBA argued that it wouldn’t be in the public’s best interest to tear down these local businesses, put tens of thousands of people out of work, and put up large office buildings in their place. They further challenged this point by stating that the complex had no firm commitments from any governments to relocate there. Therefore, the DWBA wanted the trade center moved to another location or canceled entirely. 

Port Authority countered by essentially saying that they’d be doing the city a favor by razing the neighborhood. In an official report, they said:
“Over 60 percent of the 158 buildings within the proposed site are over 100 years old… Eighty-nine percent of all the buildings are of non-fireproof construction and many of the remaining 11 percent are in poor repair.”

They also tried to quell the storm by setting up an office to help owners prepare for the move by helping them find suitable nearby spaces. Some saw the writing on the wall and took the help, but others felt that this was wholly inadequate. Edward. W. Volk, for example, ran a restaurant in the area, and he said that the firm offered him $3,000 for moving expenses. He scoffed at this, saying that it wouldn’t even be enough to move the mahogany bar that was in his establishment.

The DWBA also took the fight to the streets. On July 13, 1962, shop owners voiced their displeasure with Port Authority by holding a protest around Radio Row. This wasn’t your average demonstration. Among the incensed denizens and picket signs was a rather peculiar sight. To personify the killing of local commerce by a faceless industrial conglomerate, the DWBA toted around a dummy in a casket with a sign that read: “Here lies Mr. Small Businessman. Don’t let the P.A. bury him.”

Unfortunately, those that had the final say on the matter didn’t see things that way. The DWBA went through state courts without much success. Hoping for a different answer, the group took Port Authority to the Supreme Court in December of 1963. They declined to hear the case out, though one of the judges did mention that the issue didn’t represent a federal question. 

The DWBA took this as an invitation to take the case back to the lower-level affairs. They kept pursuing the case until they came to the Appellate Division of the New York State Supreme Court, which said that the trade center’s purpose was to consolidate the efforts of governments around the world to conduct business in New York City. Soon after, the State of New York announced that they would be relocating their downstate offices to the trade center. This undoubtedly made it a public building and threw the DWBAs sole defense out of the window. 

As judgment day neared, the people of Radio Row took back to the streets. They made a public display during Nelson Rockefeller’s presidential bid in 1964. There was a trail of angry protesters wherever he went. The display might’ve tugged at the public’s heartstrings probably even cost him a few votes, but by then it was too late. In 1966, demolition crews swept through and wiped away generations of blood, sweat, and tears in a matter of hours. Some owners could afford to relocate to 6th avenue above 42nd street, but many of them simply went out of business. As much of a fight as Radio Row put up, Port Authority would face even stiffer resistance from infinitely more powerful political figureheads. 

THE ART OF COMPROMISE

Port Authority’s acquisition of the Hudson and Manhattan Railroad was a step in the right direction for the trade center, but it wasn’t exactly a green light. The states were still working out the finer details. Still, New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller interpreted this as a fair exchange. He sponsored a bill that tied both of them at the hip. There were two glaring issues with this approach. There were fears that such an aggressive approach could stall negotiations and delay the construction of the complex. 

This bill also publicized the dollar amounts of each deal and highlighted just how in favor things were for New York. They’d be getting the $350 million trade center while New Jersey turned the rail over for a comparatively paltry $70 million. Governor Rockefeller wanted it to appear as a 1:1 exchange when, monetarily speaking, this wasn’t the case. This wouldn’t be much of a problem for long. In November of 1961, Richard J. Hughes replaced Robert Meyner as governor of New Jersey. 

The book “Twin Towers” by Angus Kress Gillespie, goes through the significance of the transfer of power.

“Trenton insiders pointed out that the two men had very different personalities. Where Mr. Meyner was cautious, skeptical, and guarded in his dealings with reporters, Mr. Hughes was talkative, expansive, and friendly. On one hand, Mr. Meyner had the ability to look someone right in the eye and say “no.” On the other hand, Mr. Hughes was more inclined to pursue negotiation and compromise. It seems clear that Austin Tobin liked and trusted Hughes and found him easier to deal with.”

Things wouldn’t go over so smoothly with the firm’s negotiations in New York City. Mayor Wagner thought the city shouldered most of the risk in the current terms of the deal for no good reason. Since the project was being handled by Port Authority and not a private company, he was anticipating a potential loss of millions of dollars a year in tax revenue.

Additionally, since the trade center was going to be a public enterprise, the city would be forced to cover any potential losses if the project happened to fail. That possibility had never materialized since every endeavor the firm had tackled in its forty-odd years was profitable, but if anything had the potential to flop, it was this one. Commercial real estate proved to be an extremely volatile industry in New York. The trade center would be run primarily through income rents, and if they couldn’t fill the office space up then it would spell disaster for the city.

Wagner and Port Authority ironed out the details behind the scenes. The firm would pay the city $1.7 million annually in lieu of taxes. But just as the parties involved were coming to a compromise, Wagner’s time as mayor came to an end. His successor wouldn’t make things easy for him. John V. Lindsay felt a certain way about the trade center before even taking up the mantle. In his eyes, the project pulled the firm away from focusing on transportation and port development.

Although Port Authority had the ability to condemn entire neighborhoods under eminent domain, they couldn’t claim the streets themselves. They belonged to the city, and several blocks would have to be de-mapped in order to build the superblock that the plan required. Lindsay used this as a means to delay its approval until public hearings could be held. Port Authority raised the annual payment from $1.7 million to $4 million as the hearings approached in an effort to prevent this from happening, but the hearings went on as scheduled.

The firm found itself in uncharted territory. They preferred to work behind the scenes and kept the finer details of their projects from prying eyes until they had a polished, well-rehearsed script to win the public over with. Lindsay pulled the rug from under them. Now they’d have to come up with something on the spot in order to get an already hostile audience on their side. Austin Tobin decided to turn the hearings into theatre, as this excerpt from The World Trade Center: A Tribute by Bill Harris explains.

“As [he want to the City Council Chamber, he took along an impressive assembly of blue state public officials, including the heads of nearly every chamber of commerce in the Port District, as well as Franklin D. Roosevelt Jr., representing the federal commerce department. The list of those who came prepared to testify included John F. Kennedy Jr., and cabinet members from the Secretary of Commerce. Although there was no television coverage, the press corps showed up in impressive numbers to help get the word out that something big was happening at City Hall.

“For added emphasis, City Hall Park was packed with construction workers shouting demands for the work to get started. Building construction was in a serious slump at the time and they let anybody who would listen know that their families and their way of life were in serious jeopardy. To reinforce their argument, the head of the building trades union told reporters that if the World Trade Center Project didn’t get started wight away his members would go on strike.”

There were powerful people on the opposing side as well. The Committee for a Reasonable trade center was comprised primarily of private real estate investors. It was formed by Lawrence A. Wien, a lawyer and highly influential realtor in the city. His groups either had long-term leases or outright owned the Equitable, Graybar, Fisk, Garment Capitol, Fifth Avenue, and Lincoln Buildings. By far the most iconic structure under his control was the Empire State Building, then the tallest building in the world. 

The trade center was destined to happen, but his Committee was focused on reducing its scale. On the surface, his efforts could be interpreted as him trying to preserve the iconic status of his prized structure. At this point, the trade center was set to usurp its place as the planet’s largest skyscraper.

Harold Uris held a seat on the committee and was one of the city’s most prominent real estate moguls. He summed up their objections when he said:

“They say they’re going to rent four million square feet to export-import firms. That’s twice the space of the Pan-Am Building. I just don’t believe they can do it. And when they find they can’t, they’re going to dump the space on the open market at reduced rents. With their tax advantages and the low rates they pay for money, they could rent for far less than I can and still break even. I’m not afraid of losing the tenants I have now. I’m afraid there won’t be any tenants for the buildings I put up five years from now.”

Negotiations remained deadlocked throughout 1966. The $4 million figure that Port Authority offered the city wasn’t enough for Lindsay. They sought something closer to the $16 million figure that they would have gotten if the trade center were built by a private company. 

Deputy Mayor Robert Price was at the heart of these talks and lamented that they’d degraded so far. He got on the phone and confided with his friend George Milstein Shapiro. The issue caught Shapiro’s ear and he asked for more information. Neither of them realized it at that moment, but that unassuming conversation was the start of a new chapter in negotiations.

Shapiro didn’t think they were too far from a deal. Price got him in touch with the man at Port Authority. He soon found himself at the center of the dispute, transferring information between the parties and cooling tempers. Neither side was satisfied, and they sure as hell weren’t happy, but finally had a deal after years of bickering.

The first part of the agreement hinged on the annual payments. Port Authority would make payments that were equivalent to the taxes that a private developer would have paid on the portion of the project to be leased to private tenants. The payment for the first year would amount to just over $6 million. This was a bit more than what the firm was prepared to pay and far less than the $16 million figure that the city brought up during negotiations, but it was as much as either side was reasonably going to get. This number could fluctuate as the valuation of comparable property rose or fell. 

As per the deal, Port Authority would build a $100,000,000 passenger ship terminal on the west side of Manhattan as well as a $16 million containership operation in South Brooklyn. Finally, the firm agreed to use the landfill from the excavation site to create 28 acres of new land along the edge of the island. The city then planned on selling the parcel to developers.

With this, the Port Authority was finally able to break ground on the World Trade Center. In the next part of this series, the politicians and company executives will step out of the spotlight in favor of engineers, city planners, and one of the most often-forgotten architects in history.