Iconic Newark Monument, 5 years ago Revitalized, Once again an Eyesore
As pedestrians exit a pristine Whole Foods supermarket, part of the newly gentrified Hahnes Building, and walk across Broad Street (recently renamed as Kenneth A. Gibson Boulevard), they are immersed in signs of development. A canvas of renovated relics and modern architectural enhancement, the area surrounding Military Park has been the unrivaled ground zero of Newark’s acclaimed rebirth.
There is the brand new NJPAC tower, a beautiful glass precipice, anchoring the corner across from the renowned New Jersey Performing Arts Center. On the opposite end of the park, at Raymond and Broad streets, looms monolithic 1180. A repurposed office tower, it now houses over 300 posh apartments encased in Art Deco, one of the most recognizable pieces of the downtown skyline. On quaint Park Place, which runs for a modest block just behind the park, the well-kept Military Park building, suave signage for Newark’s renowned WBGO Jazz station, and the entrance to famed Robert Treat Hotel, sporting a plaque commemorating John F. Kennedy’s visit to the city in 1962, are all elements of a serene stroll. Rising not far into the distance is 50 Rector Park, a building often dubbed as the “Shaq Tower” due to the famed NBA star (and Newark native’s) role in its construction. All around the park, development, growth, design, and money are abuzz. But as of recent, the center of this momentous orbit, the park itself, has begun to decay.
Any pedestrian who crosses Broad Street and sets foot in the park will notice not only the beauty of the “Wars of America” monument, erected in 1926 and sculpted by famed artist Gutzon Borglum, the same man responsible for Mount Rushmore, but the huge sword outline landscaped into the grounds before it. Currently, the sword is a nasty collection of misplaced weeds and splotched dirt. Other parts of the park feature some nice lawns and scenery, but are already beginning to evince a descent into the same demise as the sword. Parts of the park showcase patches of dirt and unhealthy grass, dying bushes, overgrown edges, planters more inviting of stray trash than blooming flowers, and a carousel that is all but abandoned. Chairs and tables which were brand new in 2014 are now peeling and rotting, and they are often sitting amongst areas of grass that seem to be mowed only every so often.
The history of Military Park is a long one, and its name is indicative of its legacy. First used as a training ground for soldiers during the French and Indian war, it was used as an encampment by George Washington during his retreat from British forces across New Jersey in 1776. Though designed and designated a public park as early as the late 18th century, the park continued to serve military purposes during the War of 1812, and the war effort during World War 1. Perhaps owing to that history, several notable monuments have been erected in the park, and the park has served as the silhouette to important Newark celebrations over the centuries. A sculpture of famed Mexican-American and Civil War Hero General Philip Kearny stands near the northeast end of the park. A bit further west, just off of Broad Street, stands a sculpture of Frederick Frelinghuysen. Born in Millstone, and making his home in Newark, he was a former Senator, Secretary of State, Attorney General of New Jersey, and a Rutgers graduate. Under the Wars of America monument are very old commemorative plaques honoring the legacy of the city and of the soldiers. But perhaps grander than all, is the sword that lay sprawling before the monument, surrounded by stone and fencing, and laid out upon slightly descending grass. The sword was once a reflecting pool, and countless tattered and faded postcards bear witness to its former beauty, and to Newark’s withstanding, if not resilient, legacy.
During some of Newark’s most trying decades; when its two most iconic towers in 1180 and the National Newark Building lay dormant and abandoned, when prominent law firms and corporations built walls to separate themselves from disenfranchised citizens and provide insulated tunnels toward nightly escape trains, the park and its sword, drained of both water and bounty, fell into disrepair. As recently as 2012, one could walk through the park and be less than impressed, while gazing up at a shuttered, ominous looking Hahnes building.
But in 2013 that was all supposed to change. It did, temporarily. Formed in the earlier part of this decade, The “Military Park Parternship” promised what the New York Times dubbed a “revitalization” of the park. As was reported in the Times, some of the most important stakeholders in the organization were: the City of Newark, Prudential, and the Theatre Square Development Corperation. As stated then, the park would essentially be the front yard to both Prudential’s brand new office building (and its commercial tenants at ground level), and One Theatre Square’s gaudily priced apartments. The partnership, designated as the sole entity in charge of Military Park’s redevelopment by a unanimous city council, and with the blessing of then Mayor Corey Booker, hired Daniel Beiderman of Beiderman Redevelopment Ventures to oversee the park’s renissiance.
Beiderman’s vision was to create something in the vein of New York City’s Bryant Park, himself referring to Military Park as “…the Bryant Park of Newark...” The model to be employed in maintaining it would mirror that of Bryant Park: It would be a self-sustaining public space with an annual budget comprised of concession fees and payments from office buildings and corperate sponsorships. As was reported in 2013, Mr. Beiderman expected the park’s annual budget to be around $100,000 from these sources. In any event, the organization was formed, the public relations campaign was waged, and the partnership broke ground in 2013.
The sword, once a concrete structure capable of holding water, had its base demolished, exposing it to the dirt underneath. This of course was an innovative and beautiful idea, as the sword would be maintained, and would see a new crop of flowers planted within its outline seasonly. New bathrooms were constructed which were open to the public, and table games were available under recognizable umbrellas bearing the park’s name. The grand lawn on the north half of the park was fantastically manicured, resembling an inviting green picnic blanket. Planters stood gloriously at every sidewalk’s intersection with bounties of colorful bouquets, an undeniably impressive sight for even the most cynical of Newark pedestrians. To much fanfare, the park reopened in the spring of 2014. Barry Carter of NJ.com wrote an article around that time, quoting various Newarkers expressing their appreciation for the renovations, and embracing the vision laid out a year earlier by Beiderman and his corperate sponsors. Children played in the grass while professionals ate their lunches. Older folks played chess and read books at the center of crossing sidewalks. Millenial transplants and local teenagers connected over intense games of table tennis. The sword donned its first crop of hundreds of beautiful flowers. Passers-by stopped to take photos of the sword and of them in front of it.
Unfortunately, even early on there were a few subtle signs of trouble. First, there were the slightly-arrogant ambassadors visiting nearby residential buildings like 1180, downplaying and badmouthing the local farmer’s market that had long been a Thursday afternoon staple at PSE&G plaza across the street. As savvy 1180 residents scratched their heads at the misguided claims, the Military Park Partnership promised that their programming and maintenance would be second to none. The whole charade seemed more like lip-service and a hollow corperate chest-pounding than anything of substance or an effort to gain understanding, feedback, or collaboration regarding the community.
Second, came a much bigger issue: “Burg”, the trendy burger joint which had signed a lease to operate in the park, had its opening delayed. Burg had all the telltale warning signs of a lazy endeavor counting on gentrification and a Jersey City/Hoboken business model rather than a sound plan, as many failing buisnesses in Newark often do. These issues could have been spotted a mile away, and contingencies could have been put in place, but it is apparent that they never were. As Jared Kofsky of Jersey Digs recounted in 2018, Burg was initially supposed to serve lunch and dinner daily, but wound up only opening for lunch on weekdays. Brought to Newark by the folks who operate Maritime Parc in Jersey City, the resturaunt served up mediocre food at excessive prices, and served drinks in conspicuously small glasses at a pint standard price. Despite a beautiful space with outdoor seating in the middle of a newly renovated park in the heart of downtown, and despite patrons sacrificing quality and prices for the ambiance, Burg and its operators still managed to fail in short order. First they closed from the fall through the spring, and then they shuttered the space completely. Today, Burg’s patio is surrounded by dilapidated planters sprouting dead bushes.
Even with Burg leaving a void in the grand plan, Prudential went on to construct their multi-million dollar building. One Theatre Square was finished and began leasing. The Hahnes building leased its fancy loft-style apartments after an impressive renovation of its own. The flowers continued to be planted in the sword seasonly, and yoga and other activities took place in the park. But once all ofthe building was finished, and once the corperate posturing was no longer necessary, a curious sight could be seen at the park in the center of all this prosperity.
It happened slowly, over about a year’s time: The once grand lawn began to become patchy and blotted with clumps and weeds, and it wasn’t consistently mowed any longer. The planters lay dormant, filling with weeds and discarded lunch items. The carousel which had been built only recently, ceased to run and began to rust. Less security personnel could be seen at the park on a normal day, and less maintence workers as well. The chairs and tables and umbrellas began to peel, fade, and splinter. The games were no longer being brought out daily. Book shelves were emptied of books and tossed behind one of the park buildings, visible to all. Perhaps most egregious, and most blatantly evincive of a caregivers apathy, the sword, void of any seasonal flowers this past spring, has begun to sprout weeds, looking noticeably horrible. Ironically, it is the very decision to hollow out the sword and expose it to the dirt to make way for flowers that has allowed these weeds to sprout in the first place. Park management should have never dug the sword out if it did not want to stay commited to its maintenance.
Perhaps the shuttering of Burg caused funding expectations to fall short. Perhaps rent is simply too high at that location, and the original donors would have to pitch in a little more than they once thought. Or, perhaps someone in some corperate high-rise just runs to the train every day at 5 o’clock and doesn’t give a damn. Either way, the blatant lack of critical maintence is offensive.
It is no secret amongst Newark residents that flowers were not planted this year. it is no secret that the deterioration of the sword is being allowed to occur as an intentional decision. The powers that be, those who agreed to rennovate and maintain the park, those who benefited from the “revitalization” the most, have now gotten what they wanted, and have abdicated their responsiblity to the city and its residents. A cute marketing prop, these people seem to have no concern or consideration for the “public”, or those they equivocally pretended to have in mind when they set out to transform the historic public space.
Inquiries from various concerned citizens about these isssues to the Military Park Partnership went unanswered for weeks, until finally a standard-form email from park manager Jessica Sechrist of Biederman Redevelopment Ventures explained to several people that the park’s budget had been cut this year. While one can reason that Ms. Sechrist is probably doing all that she can on a reduced budget, one has to consider what this means: This means that somewhere, some person at some desk in some office, within the last few months, took out a pen and decided to draw an ugly line straight through the funding for the maintence of an important public icon in a central public space in the City of Newark. This was a conscious decision by someone holding the purse strings to some very large sums of money and working for some very prosperous people and companies. And that, is simply unacceptable.
As of recent, those in charge of the park have tried to bolster their reputation by taking pictures on social media, advertising some of the activities still going on in the park, and by allowing locals to volunteer their free time and labor to weed the sword themselves. Perhaps the hope is that Newarkers will accept the raw end of a deal. Perhaps their wish is for Newarkers to stand idley helpless in the face of a broken promise. Perhaps shucking their financial and public responsibility onto the backs of these locals in the form of free labor is what these entities view as a sound business decision. Whatever their calculation, they should be ashamed of themselves.
As this city continues to rebuild and be reborn, as many continue to reap the rewards and the exponential benefits of Newark’s rapid growth, the more they need to pay their dues to the people of the city and do their part in maintianing its rich cultural history and present-day amentities. Something as simple as replacing old chairs, maintianing book-shelves, mowing lawns, and planting flowers should go without saying. It is such an easy gesture which would yield such an immense social benefit.
Unfortunately, when it comes to Military Park, and when it comes to its iconic monument, rather than do the right thing, those with the most privelage, means, and responsibility, have once again decided to saddle Newark and its people with a neglected eyesore.
