Asking a governor to choose his favorite accomplishment is like asking a parent to choose a favorite child.
But whenever I’m asked to reflect on my time in the office, one achievement immediately comes to mind: Hudson River Park, which celebrates its 25th anniversary this summer.
From the start, the Park struck a very personal note.
I grew up in a small town on the shores of the Hudson, and while it was beautiful and nurturing, it offered zero public access to the river itself.
On sweltering summer days, with the temperature and the humidity climbing well into the 90s, we kids would stand by sweating, wishing we could walk up to the water.
How great would it be if a park was built to replace the railroad tracks and warehouses that crowded the riverside?
The same thought occurred to me decades later, driving from my office in the South Tower of the World Trade Center along the Hudson to my home upstate.
I was governor at the time, and as I looked out the window, I saw little more than crumbling piers — a wilderness of rust and neglect dotting Manhattan’s West Side.
The decay brought back childhood memories, prompting me to ask an aide to figure out who was responsible for all this vast, untended riverside.
A few days later, the aide reported back: The person responsible, he told me, is you.
My predecessors in office had long had an eye on the approximately four-mile stretch running from Battery Park to 59th Street.
There had been audacious – and, ultimately, failed — plans to rebuild the strip into something worthy of New York’s reputation as the greatest city in the world.
But no sooner had I grown excited by the idea of revitalizing the waterfront than I realized how complicated it would be.
To make it happen, we would need to forge partnerships between the state and the city, environmental activists and neighborhood community boards along with corporate neighbors and committed preservationists.
These groups don’t always play nicely in the sandbox and would require the greatest of all political achievements — compromise.
And so, we went to work.
We calmly explained to interested parties — all seeking total control over the project — that we were facing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to build what could become Central Park for the 21st Century.
And we explained, too, that success meant curbing our passions and learning how to collaborate instead.
Which, as you may imagine, wasn’t easy.
Early on, for example, many on my team argued for private-sector involvement to help cover construction costs.
I didn’t think it was the right way to go.
While corporate sponsors were fine for covering the park’s operation budget, the private sector had no part in the development process.
The Park should be resolutely focused on its true intended audiences: The people of New York and the wildlife that rely on the Hudson River environment.
In true New York fashion, we turned the multitude of voices — always loud, often dissenting — into a symphony.
To get off the ground, the Park needed a Republican sponsor in the state senate and a Democratic sponsor in the state assembly.
And we got them when The Hudson River Park Act was co-sponsored in 1998 by Assembly Member Richard Gottfried (D), Senator Franz Leichter (D), and Senator Roy Goodman (R).
Just as complicated, the project required that both the governor and the mayor of New York each agree to collaborate as equal partners to ensure that the city and state met their respective funding obligations.
If you know anything about politics, you know that these aren’t minor achievements – particularly considering my often testy relationship with then-mayor Rudy Giuliani.
The resulting Park is now celebrating a pair of major milestones: 25 years since the establishment of the Hudson River Park Act and two decades after the Park first debuted.
By design, the Park looks and feels like each of the people and neighborhoods it touches.
We also made sure that the park is environmentally sound, with a diverse ecosystem of plants and animal life.
We gave the West Side of Manhattan a new lease on life, taking a bit of the city previously nicknamed “Death Avenue” and transforming it into a destination for residents, tourists, and cultural institutions.
This feat — astounding to us, but clearly inspiring to others — attracted officials from all over the world eager to replicate our success.
Most importantly, we gave New Yorkers the splendid summer destination I always wanted as a kid.
All because we put our differences aside and worked together.
The other day, someone asked me if I thought a project like Hudson River Park could come to fruition today.
It’s a tough question: Everywhere we look, our politics have grown divisive and bitter. A constitutional amendment that was supposed to end partisan gerrymandering was ignored by the legislature.
Fortunately, the state’s highest court threw out that effort.
A fairly technical discussion about tax abatement designed to incentivize affordable housing has turned into a battlefield and put the state’s budget at risk.
And the city council’s women’s caucus, which started in 2022 as a bipartisan coalition, disintegrated under pressure.
Labels like “dumb” and “lunatic” are now common exchanges between our elected officials.
The temperature of national politics has grown much hotter, and new media have made compromise far less attractive than it was when I held office.
But while city and state, Republicans and Democrats continue to fight over a host of issues—some worthy, others mere distractions—I have boundless faith in the people of New York.
So yes, I do believe an achievement like Hudson River Park could be accomplished with the right leadership.
Because 25 years after it was collectively willed into existence, Hudson River Park reminds us that, in New York, being a realist means believing in miracles.
George E. Pataki was the 53rd Governor of New York State
