How Montauk Got Its Parkway, Fear and horror as Robert Moses came to town

Seventy-five years ago, only one road went to Montauk - the old Montauk highway. Rumbling scenically along the ocean coast from Hither Hills to Montauk Point, the road had already been winding its way into the hearts of residents and visitors for 50 years.

The people of East Hampton Town were horrified to learn, in 1930, that Robert Moses intended to pave a new highway connecting the same two points, which his parks commission had recently appropriated to create two state parks. Instead of traveling the same route as the old Montauk highway, two significant sections of Moses's new route would be built to the north, meaning farther inland: those from Hither Hills to Fort Pond (basically, today's downtown Montauk) and from Third House (near Deep Hollow Ranch) to Montauk Point.

The fear was that the dear old road would eventually be abandoned, most likely to make room for larger oceanfront properties for the real estate developers to sell. Inexplicably the Montauk Beach Development Corporation, which owned nearly all of Montauk, including the land just south of the old highway, had agreed to give the state 40 acres to enlarge the Montauk Point state park, not to mention a 300-foot right of way for the new route that would terminate there.

Having learned about Moses's scheme somewhat late in the game, The East Hampton Star alerted its readers in appropriately dark language - "Old Montauk Highway Threatened . . . A matter of great importance . . . has come to the fore this week . . . To the astonishment of the East Hampton officials and townspeople. . ." The paper also fired off an eight-point questionnaire to Moses in an effort to nail down his intentions.

"Brooklyn sympathizes with East Hampton in its protest," said an editorial in The Brooklyn Daily Times extolling the virtues of the old road, for which it said city-originating visitors watched "with eagerness" as they motored east.

Meanwhile, the town board appointed a committee to investigate the matter, L.V.I.S. members put their names to a "paper of protest" in which they "stood firmly for keeping the ocean front drive where it is," and a group of taxpayers mounted their own effort to oppose the parkway. Raymond Malone, attorney, of Brooklyn wrote a poem:

Aye, close the road that skirts the sea,

Blot out old Ocean's breaking waves,

What do they mean to you and me

Or to a City's million slaves.

Stand back, give realtors a chance,

Ye hurdles are in Progress' path.

See values instantly advance

Large profits - as an aftermath.

That winding road midst Montauk's dunes

Which seem to love the summer sea,

Whose bosom heaves 'neath autumn's moons

God put it there for fools like me.

The deal was sealed, however, as Moses pointed out in a prompt response to The Star's questionnaire. Having just finished legally defending the state's taking of Hither Hills and Montauk Point, Moses was in no mood to start litigating all over again to secure a different right of way when he had already struck an agreement for the one he wanted.

"It has always been the aim of the Commission to connect the two parks at Montauk by means of a highway, which at least from Napeague Harbor to Fort Pond and from Third House to the Point would be a genuine parkway or boulevard, planted and protected from all commercial and unsightly developments and free from all advertising signs, hot dog stands, filling stations, etc.," Moses said.

"Part of the new route will be a boulevard or parkway. Part of it will be an ordinary highway. The part which will be built on park land or on land dedicated to the Park Commission will be restricted against any possible disfigurement

. . . and keep it free from the eyesores which seem to be an inevitable feature of practically every highway on Long Island."

The six miles between Fort Pond and Third House, in the middle of the new route and indeed the heart of Montauk, would have to trace the path of the original highway, Moses explained, because the bordering properties had already been sold for commercial purposes and development could not be prevented there, nor could the state secure a right of way any wider than 99 feet.

"I am sure that you will agree that we are doing something for the Montauk peninsula, which will help to preserve it for all time. Of course, it would be better if all of Montauk were a state park, but it is too late to think of this."

The fate of the old highway was to be left entirely up to the East Hampton Town Board, the parks commissioner told The Star, although he acknowledged that the Montauk Beach Development Company would be happy to see its western portion closed down. Moses for one saw no reason to keep open the eastern portion of the old road, from Third House to Montauk Point.

The Brooklyn attorney got a letter from Moses too:

"Dear Mr. Malone - I have your letter to the Brooklyn Daily Times with the poem which is slightly reminiscent of Oliver Wendell Holmes and Joyce Kilmer."

"I hate to throw any cold water on your noble rage, but the fact is that the Montauk Parkway plan is wholly in the interest of the public. It is pretty stupid to think that, after battling with private owners and real estate interests in all the courts up to the United States Supreme Court, to establish the present parks at Montauk, the State officials are now selling out to them. The parkway at Montauk will be the finest thing of its kind on the Atlantic Seaboard."

Not a hot dog stand can be found on the new route today - on the parkway portion at least. Old Montauk Highway is still open from Hither Hills to Fort Pond, as well as from near Third House up to Camp Hero State Park, but the section to the east, which used to run all the way out to Montauk Point, has long been closed.