The following article and photos first appeared in a blog post written by Michael McMenamin for The Museum of the City of New York and are reused here courtesy of the museum.
In the late 1880s, Long Acre Square consisted of a large open space surrounded by drab apartments. Soon, however, the neighborhood began to change. Electricity, in the form of theater advertisements and street lights, transformed public space into a safer, more inviting environment. Likewise, the construction of New York’s first rapid transit system, the Interborough Rapid Transit Company (IRT), gave New Yorkers unprecedented mobility in the city.
The announcement of the IRT spurred real estate speculation by shrewd businessmen who believed that increased foot traffic in the area would generate profits. Adolph S. Ochs, owner and publisher of The New York Times from 1896 to 1935, saw an opportunity and selected a highly visible location to build the Times Tower, which was the second tallest building in the city at the time. In January 1905, the Times finally moved into their new headquarters, built between Broadway and Seventh Avenue and 42nd and 43rd Streets. The previous spring, Mayor George B. McClellan signed a resolution that renamed the intersection of Broadway and Seventh Avenue from Long Acre Square to Times Square.
Ochs told the Syracuse Herald, “I am pleased to say that Times Square was named without any effort or suggestion on the part of The Times.” Yet, he clearly felt proud: the new building represented “the first successful effort in New York to give architectural beauty to a skyscraper,” he said. Within a decade, the Times outgrew their space and moved to a new location, but not before starting a tradition that continues today: the New Year’s Eve spectacular. Ochs staged the first event to commemorate the new building and crowds still gather today to bring in the new year.
Father Duffy Square encompasses the northern triangle of Times Square. In 1909, a temporary eight-ton statue entitled Purity (Defeat of Slander) by Leo Lentelli dominated the space. Now, statues of Father Duffy and George M. Cohan grace the scene. Born in Canada, Father Francis Patrick Duffy (1871-1932) eventually moved to New York City. He served as a military chaplain in both the Spanish-American War and World War I.
Upon his return to the city, he became pastor of Holy Cross Church, located at 237 West 42nd Street. His statue, designed by Charles Keck (1875 – 1951) faces his former church. The bronze statue of George M. Cohan (1878 – 1942), a composer, playwright, and actor, sits at the park’s southern end. He is best known for his hit song, Give my regards to Broadway: “Give my regards to Broadway / Remember me in Herald Square / Tell all the gang at 42nd Street that I will soon be there.”
By World War I, most legitimate theaters had moved to Times Square from former entertainment districts further downtown. Respected restaurants and high-end hotels, like the Astor and the Knickerbocker, established themselves in the neighborhood, thus contributing to a thriving environment. While popular bars, restaurants, and theaters attracted people to the area, it was the development of public transportation that facilitated Times Square’s dramatic growth. For example, in 1905, the first year of operation, the IRT Times Square station serviced almost five million passengers. By the late 1920s, subway lines, elevated lines, and bus routes all stopped at West 42nd Street. It thus became an irrefutable hub of the city, transporting not only city dwellers, but also affluent suburbanites and visitors.
Soon, other lower forms of entertainment arrived in the area: burlesque shows, cheap restaurants, peep shows, dance halls, and penny arcades. Then, commercialized sex proliferated throughout the neighborhood as both male and female prostitutes began lingering along 42nd Street. The advent of World War II did little to improve Times Square’s reputation. Soldiers on leave, in search of erotic entertainment, further catalyzed the neighborhood into a zone for vice. Likewise, construction restrictions during the war worsened conditions by halting the city’s building boom of the 1920s. Times Square had begun a descent into disrepair and depravity.
Upon his return to the city, he became pastor of Holy Cross Church, located at 237 West 42nd Street. His statue, designed by Charles Keck (1875 – 1951) faces his former church. The bronze statue of George M. Cohan (1878 – 1942), a composer, playwright, and actor, sits at the park’s southern end. He is best known for his hit song, Give my regards to Broadway: “Give my regards to Broadway / Remember me in Herald Square / Tell all the gang at 42nd Street that I will soon be there.”
The order sought to protect pedestrians silhouetted against the horizon from enemy submarines in coastal waters. The dimout was so extensive that the WPA announced that they would place blackout masks on 90,900 traffic lights throughout the city. Likewise, the electric news sign belting the Times Tower went dark for the first time since its debut in 1928. For nearly fourteen years, the sign attracted billions of spectators with the most news-worthy headlines. Frank Powell, one of three electricians tasked with the sign’s maintenance, stated on the night of the dimout: “All I want is to start it up again the night Hitler gets killed. That would tickle me to death.”
Then the 1960s arrived. As one scholar notes, “the libertarianism of the sixties” changed the meaning of “obscene,” thereby opening a space for the public sale of adult allurements. For example, the success of the twenty-five cent peep show, introduced in 1966, spurred other small businesses to follow the trend by selling adult films and erotic merchandise. Profits rose, the cost of leases sky rocketed, and then the mob “muscled in around 1968.” On the streets, prostitution by all genders, open drug trade, alcoholism, and con games, like three-card monte and clio, became commonplace. Inside, crime thrived in the underground corridors of the subway and the passages at the Port Authority Bus Terminal despite the abundance of police.
In addition to the sex market, the drug trade also profoundly affected Times Square. Efforts to address the increase in prostitution, especially by juveniles, were derailed by the arrival of crack cocaine to Times Square in 1986. As a result, crime rates spiked and continued to increase through 1989. The addictiveness of crack made it an especially insidious drug, as users focused their energy and resources on scoring the next ‘hit’. Crack dealers, junkies, and the cardboard encampments of the homeless took over the streets.
Then the 1960s arrived. As one scholar notes, “the libertarianism of the sixties” changed the meaning of “obscene,” thereby opening a space for the public sale of adult allurements. For example, the success of the twenty-five cent peep show, introduced in 1966, spurred other small businesses to follow the trend by selling adult films and erotic merchandise. Profits rose, the cost of leases sky rocketed, and then the mob “muscled in around 1968.” On the streets, prostitution by all genders, open drug trade, alcoholism, and con games, like three-card monte and clio, became commonplace. Inside, crime thrived in the underground corridors of the subway and the passages at the Port Authority Bus Terminal despite the abundance of police.
In 2018, the New York City Economic Development Council created a short documentary about the economic transformation of 42nd Street in New York City starting in the early 1980s, from the center of vice and crime in NYC to an area where millions of people pass through each year. Against All Odds tells the story through interviews with the people who made this transformation happen — project leaders, real estate developers, architects, law enforcement officials, and historic preservationists.