A Sense of Place
By Don Rittner

When one views 19th century illustrations of Albany and Troy, it's almost always a viewpoint from the Hudson River. As we discussed a week or so ago, we are beginning the process of reclaiming our mighty Hudson, but I would like to put out a warning not to rush so fast.

Those visions of the cities from the river offered the river cruiser a familiar site when he or she reached our ports. If the destination was Albany, the sight of the original Capitol building; St Peter's and Second Baptist church, along with other church spires; or grandiose City, State, and Stanwix Halls, all told you home was near. Likewise, viewers of Troy saw the "Towers of Troy" (old Troy Seminary where RPI library now sits), Mt Ida, collar and cuff factories, and other familiar scenes.

Amazingly, you could also see each city in its entirety as the buildings and streets draped the flood plain and river benches carpeting the land while rising to higher lands to the east or west. Each home comer or visitor could feel a sense of place.

The beauty of the Hudson even spawned its own art school, and the Hudson River School paintings that were born as a result are held in the highest regards in the art world today.

If, or should I say, when we take back the river, we should ensure that there still is that sense of place, but there are threats in the wind that could make our region look like any other - the threat of allowing the wrong kind of river development could destroy our chance for rejuvenation.

Case in point. We already know how Albany turned its back on the river after they let DOT (Department of Transgressions) take the river front for I-787 during the 1970's. Only in recent times have they tried to bridge their citizens back to the river.

There is no view of 19th century downtown Watervliet along the river. In fact, there is no downtown Watervliet. It was demolished and taken up for I 787.

Somehow, a new apartment complex was approved and crammed on the old Troy landfill on Center Island, and folks on the Troy side enjoying a good brew or food at the Troy Pub must view apartment dwellers hanging out their balconies perched very close to the island's cliffs. I predict one of those buildings slides down into the river.

The city of Troy wants to put a new truck route from downtown to South Troy, which baffles me? Why not let heavy trucks use existing I-787 from the Watervliet side and go over the Menands Bridge into industrial South Troy. This prevents the obvious catastrophe it would cause by having trucks barreling down the riverfront of Troy. After all, there is a plan on the table to make the entire riverfront a greenway. A truck route would certainly impact that?

I recently saw a plan that had 20 story apartment buildings lining Troy's riverfront. Ouch! How would one even know there is a city behind them?

Our friends in Rensselaer are fighting to keep their riverfront from becoming a smokestack and recycling plant by fighting off Besicorp. It seems logical to clean that parcel up as close to pure as possible, and use it to develop a brand new downtown Rensselaer with shops, homes, and businesses, and of course a green riverfront.

Doing anything else would create an ugly stretch of river from Albany to Troy and would devastate any plans on revitalizing the river. A friend of mine who belongs to an ice-racing group further south put it bluntly to me recently. He told me they would never come to Albany because of its ugly concrete riverfront and spaghetti highway.

We have a rare opportunity to get back to the Hudson; to engage our senses like those before us who enjoyed the river for thousands of years. With the upcoming Troy Boat and Maritime Center, and the creation of a new Trojan boat building industry, the river future in Troy looks good.

We can make the Hudson between Albany and Waterford worth its weight in gold, but we must plan carefully, or lose it once more to the clutches of unforgiving industry and greed.

Or, as Trojan (Ms) A.H. Mosher stated in 1846:

"Who loveth not our river?
With its bright and silver wave,
That glides so noiselessly along
To find its ocean grave.
Year after year, it hath wound its way,
And 'tis passing now, as 'twas yesterday."