PARLIAMENT OF FOULS

Editor’s note: The coming battle over the proposed new Peace Bridge plaza is taking shape; as new alliances and enmities form, old ones are turned on their heads. New York State Assemblyman Sam Hoyt, once a hero to Columbus Parkway residents for opposing the measure that gave the PBA power of eminent domain, is now a scourge for supporting—or at least not visibly opposing—the current plaza proposal, which calls for the acquisition and demolition of between 80 and 120 properties, depending on who you believe and when they’re talking. Former State Senator and Common Councilmember Al Coppola took the opportunity to light into Hoyt last week, in part because before the holidays Hoyt had taken Coppola to task for threatening to demolish the historic Pan-American Exposition house he owns at 1950 Delaware Avenue. (Coppola said he was going to tear it down in retaliation for what he considered ill treatment of a restaurateur friend by city government.)

Here’s the open letter he sent to Hoyt, followed by responses from Commissioner of Economic Development, Permit and Inspection Services Richard Tobe and Hoyt:

Dear Sam,

I read with great interest the letter that was sent to Commissioner Richard Tobe in regards to my little white Pan Am House, and in how you were outraged with my capricious threats regarding it. Sam, let me tell you a little story.

I was born down on 58 Dante Place, just across from Memorial Auditorium and parked behind me, one block away, was the Canadiana, known as the Crystal Beach Boat. At that time I was 10 years old and didn’t know too much about eminent domain. But I did know sorrow, because I watched my parents and grandparents forced to vacate through eminent domain a building they loved. We all had to move out. We started over and bought a house on Hudson Street, where I used to play baseball on the corner of Busti and Porter Avenue and could walk to Front Park and the River.

Through the years, Sam, as I got older, married and raised my three children, I got into the restaurant business and named the restaurant Shane’s after my son, whom you know. Then one day in the 1970s the government came along and started its Light Rail Transit Project. It was six miles long, costing 100 million dollars per mile. They didn’t use eminent domain to take my building or the many other thriving businesses along Main Street. They didn’t have to. The once wholesome district became infected with a creeping blight, slowly choking the business community and forcing me to close Shane’s in 1982, which left me in severe debt. This was the impetus that drove me into public life, to stop and to correct the destruction of our dear city.

Sam, I want to bring you some peace of mind (something you are not willing to give the residents in the Columbus Parkway community). I have no intention of tearing down my little white Pan Am House, but I do plan to move it from where it stands now.

I am going to move my little white house, originally built in the 1850s, to a property on Columbus Parkway, a beautiful, vibrant community looming under the umbrella of condemnation with which I’ve been all too familiar since boyhood.

I am going to move my little white house because (as only one of the two buildings still extant from the 1901 Exposition) I think the West Side will be the perfect resting place for such a historical landmark. The little white Pan Am House will be right at home alongside an Olmsted park, the street’s many architecturally significant houses, and will be at the heart of an energetic community that my entire family, beginning with my grandparents, loved so much. It will overlook the fields that I played baseball in as a kid and the river that I swam in.

What is the final hurrah for the political treatment of such a historic treasure? I think it should be an integral part of our lives, and the lives of our children, and the lives of our grandchildren. I think it should enrich this beautiful Columbus Parkway neighborhood and be a beacon for the entrance to our lovely City of Buffalo.

Sam, since you were so initially outraged at my mention of the fact that I would tear it down, I hope you will now join me in supporting preservation of not only the Pan Am House but all the houses now endangered on Columbus Parkway. The wrecking ball should not crush one blade of grass in this historic neighborhood. Our legacy as government officials will thrive or die with the demolition of this community.

I’ll be waiting to hear from you, Sam.

Best Regards,

Alfred T. Coppola

Dear Al,

You applied for a demolition permit (application # 113466) and an asbestos removal permit (application # 113464) on October 22, 2007 for the property at 1950 Delaware Ave. In accordance with the Buffalo Charter and Code, the demolition application was referred to the Buffalo Preservation Board for its comments. The Preservation Board advised me by letter dated November 16, 2007 that it recommended that a demolition permit not be issued. I wrote to you on December 12, 2007 advising you of the Preservation Board’s recommendation and of two letters that I had received. One letter was from the New York State Preservation Office and one letter was from Assemblyman Hoyt. I enclosed all three letters with my letter to you. I advised you that I was “considering if I should issue or deny the issuance of a demolition permit for 1950 Delaware Ave…” I advised you that I wanted to provide you with an opportunity to comment prior to my decision. You called me on December 28, 2007 and indicated that you had received my letter, you were not prepared to discuss the matter, but you would schedule an appointment. No such appointment has been scheduled. As you know, we have not issued a demolition permit.

On January 24, 2008 you copied me on an e-mail that you sent to Assemblyman Hoyt in which you advised him that you “…have no intention of tearing down my little white Pan Am House, but I do plan to move it from where it stands now.”

As a result, through this communication, I officially notify you that your application for a demolition permit (#113466) at 1950 Delaware Avenue is hereby revoked at your request.

Please advise me on the status of your application for an asbestos removal permit. This permit will have to be closed out or cancelled.

Should you wish to move the house, it will be necessary for you to apply for the required permits. I wish to remind you that the movement of a structure is a complex and potentially dangerous matter that requires the coordination of a number of agencies and the acquisition of a number of permits from both this department and other city departments. It might also be necessary to remove overhead utility service. This would require the permission of the owner of such utilities.

Should you wish to demolish the property instead of moving it, it will be necessary for you to reapply for a permit since permit #113466 is revoked.

As you no doubt know, there are many in our community who believe the property at 1950 Delaware Avenue is of importance to our cultural and historical past. We expect that the property will be maintained in accordance with applicable law. Any attempt to move it or demolish it will receive the scrutiny which such an action deserves.

Rich

Dear Commissioner Tobe:

Thank you for sharing with me your detailed response to Mr. Coppola’s most recent correspondence. The people of the City of Buffalo are fortunate to have such an exceptional public servant working for their city.

Sincerely,

Sam Hoyt

corrections:

In “Choosing Icons” (Artvoice v6n27), we said that Tibor Baranski had died. His son, Tibor Baranski, Jr., wrote us from Beijing to tell us his father “is alive and doing very well together with my mother living in Amherst.” We apologize to all the Baranskis for the error.

On last week’s Still Life page, the photo “Penguins in the Mist” should have been credited to Ian Daniels. We apologize for that error, as well.