“For the latest developments on that breaking news in Syria, we switch now to our chief correspondent at the United Nations on Navy Island…”

In the aftermath of World War II, and nearly three decades after “The War to End All Wars,” diplomats from 50 nations were seeking solutions to save civilization. The world was confronting dramatic changes in the mid-1940s, and many nations and their leaders expressed the need for a place to serve as a permanent center of international diplomacy. Europe had been virtually ruled out as a location for this new entity, due to its ruined state after the war and lingering memories of the ill-fated League of Nations in President Woodrow Wilson’s administration. 

Because of its significant role in the allied victories over Germany and Japan, the United States was granted the honor of hosting the conference set on creating the United Nations in San Francisco. There, the nations’ members signed the U.N. charter on June 26, 1945, which came into force upon ratification in October 24 of that year.  After drafting their charter, the new organization could now embark upon a relatively undistracted search for a permanent site.  By the end of the San Francisco conference, at least three of the major powers—China, France and the Soviet Union—had suggested they might favor a location in the United States, or perhaps even in Canada if the great powers were to be excluded from consideration. For their part, U.S. State Department officials initially vacillated between New York City and San Francisco as possibilities within their country, each with its own set of pros and cons.

After some exhaustive debate and politicking, the Executive Committee of the Preparatory Commission met to make their recommendation for a headquarters in October 1945.  Through a split vote, they reaffirmed earlier feelings that the headquarters belonged in the United States instead of Europe, a restriction that sparked angry reaction among several nations, chiefly France and Great Britain. The British had, in fact, campaigned night and day to keep the headquarters site away from America. But that hardly discouraged the field of hopeful U.S. cities that ran the gamut from the Pacific Northwest and Rocky Mountains to the Midwest, the South, the Middle Atlantic states and New England. With the focus on America, the site committee would consider many factors on how the spirit of internationalism that the new organization fostered could be extended to any one of the hopefuls for the host role.

Even prior to the committee’s decision in favor of a U.S. location, the delegates gathered in San Francisco had received visits and overtures from U.S. cities, offering up their location as the site for a permanent headquarters for the coming world organization. In all, throughout the spring and summer of 1945, American civic, business and local government leaders representing more than 240 cities, towns, villages and hamlets—none of whom had been asked for their input—would submit invitations to the U.N. site selection committee that would ultimately decide on the controversial issue.  And once the delegates had moved to war-torn London following the conclusion of the conference in San Francisco, many of these hopeful locations sent invitations and/or delegations overseas beginning in September, hoping to make their case to the committee.  When the results of the October vote hit the U.S. press, the flood gates opened even further.

If the U.S. was selected for the site, it was presumed by many that the search committee would consider the major cities like San Francisco, Chicago, Boston and Philadelphia.  Oddly, New York City was seldom mentioned initially, other than by members of the U.S. State Department. As the search unfolded, the prime U.S. candidates to provide the permanent home for the U.N. were, indeed, San Francisco, Boston, Philadelphia and the greater New York area, including the sprawling Hyde Park estate of the late President Franklin D. Roosevelt, and several suburbs in Connecticut. But Chicago, Denver, St. Louis and even Detroit were in the hunt as well, among other municipalities coast-to-coast. 

On the flip side, a sampling of dark horse locations also appeared, each with a reason why promoters felt they were worth serious consideration: Rapid City and the Black Hills in South Dakota were reasonably close to the center of the United States; Claremore, OK, was the hometown of the beloved Will Rogers; The Great Smoky Mountains promised underground shelters that could be built in the mountains and Bethlehem, PA, was an appropriate site, proponents claimed, for an organization dedicated to putting into practice the teachings of the Prince of Peace.

George A. Osborn, publisher of the Sault Saint Marie Evening News was one of the first to envision—via his newspaper—his small town as “The Capital of the World” while the delegates were still meeting in California, and was convinced the U.N. might be inclined to approve a U.S.-Canada border place. After all, the two Sault Ste. Maries were adjacent towns in Michigan and the Province of Ontario, Osborn argued. Meanwhile, Alanson C. Deuel, publisher of the Niagara Gazette, suggested the twin cataract cities of Niagara Falls, NY, and Niagara Falls, Ontario, as a logical home for the organization. He noted that the cities he represented had every advantage in the way of accessibility, transportation and communication. Taking an aggressive stand in the face of stiff competition, Deuel’s newspaper editorialized that “the Niagara Region had as much or more to offer as the site of the permanent headquarters than any other community in the Western Hemisphere.”  In a feisty mood, the paper added, “We are ready to concede nothing to anybody.” At the same time, however, another Niagara area daily newspaper insisted that San Francisco was the likely choice and thus local envoys would be wasting their time and money in going to London to plead their case to the site committee. 

To put forth the dual-city proposal, a local international committee was created, co-chaired by Harry M. Hooker, board chairman of the Hooker Electrochemical Company and Louis Blake Duff of Welland, Ontario, a local history expert.  Others on that international committee included Arthur A. Schmon, owner and chief executive officer of the Ontario Paper Co; Edward H. Butler, whose family owned the BuffaloEvening News and radio station WBEN; Mayors Stephen Lamb and George Inglis of Niagara Falls, NY and Ontario, respectively.  Also listed were senators and members of Parliament, along with prominent local businessmen that included Larry Bell and Paul Schoellkopf. Hooker and his committee members emphasized their proposed site was perfectly logical: close to all the comforts and facilities of advanced civilization, free from the influence of ordinary business, noisy activity and the grime of cities.

Thus, deep in that pile of host proposals that were generally perceived as dreams was the proposal from Niagara Falls to plunk down the global organization on an uninhabited island, three miles upstream from the natural wonder that gave the cities their collective name. Through the centuries, this small piece of land called Navy Island had been known by other names—names like “Big Canoe Island” (where ships were built). The Senecas, who claimed ownership then, called it Ga-o-wah-ge-waah. If the Falls’ proposal came to fruition, a bridge would link Navy Island to nearby Grand Island to the southeast, where the scenic West River Parkway would provide a natural setting for an embassy row and dozens of condominiums for hundreds of delegates and their staffs. Another span would connect the island with the Niagara Parkway on the Ontario side of the river, between the tiny Village of Chippawa and the town of Fort Erie. The plan for the overall complex on the island included a 500-foot Secretariat Building, with 5,400 windows, a General Assembly Building and a Conference Building, housing three impressive council chambers, along with several other architectural masterpieces.

Many of the hopeful communities got a chance to plead their case at a hearing of the site committee on December 1.  Delegates listened “politely” to boosters from across the United States, who made their uninvited pitches in alphabetical order.  Unfortunately for the sub-committee, news of the hearing only spawned more visits by more Americans, including the representatives from the Niagara region, beginning the following week.  Thus, a second hearing was held.  While the hearings failed to determine a final site, in a second and final vote on December 15, the U.N. delegates reconfirmed the earlier Executive Committee recommendation that the site be located somewhere in the United States.

Almost every entrant in the race for the coveted prize featured maps in their brochures, showing how their cities or towns could be reached from virtually any point around the globe. The Niagara Falls brochure, for example, created the perception that Navy Island and a new super jet airport in the Falls would easily be serviced by expanded airline services: London just 14 hours away; Paris, 16 hours, Rome, 18 hours, Rio de Janeiro, 19 hours; Moscow, 20 hours; and Mexico City, 9 hours, to name a few. The slick 20-page color brochure that the Falls’ group produced also indicated that nearby Grand Island would soon build a modern airport. Promoters of the Black Hills of South Dakota took the symbolism of centrality a step farther, as their plan included a high-rise building, a hybrid of modern office structures, a postwar residential development and permanent world’s fair.

A bi-national delegation from the Niagara area made a favorable impression during their efforts with the site committee members in London. A front-page headline in the Niagara Gazette stated, “Niagara Envoy Well Received in British Capital.” The local officials presenting the Navy Island claims to the United Nations were John A. Williamson, president of the Niagara Falls Chamber of Commerce, Chauncey J. Hamlin, a prominent Buffalo businessman and R.H. Davis, of Welland, a widely respected historian. 

What caught attention was the brochure promoting Navy Island and its natural surroundings within the mist billowing over the majestic falls. “The brochure describing the Niagara area was the finest piece of regional publicity ever prepared to explain why the U.N. should carefully look at what we had to offer here,” said Louis Duff, the Canadian co-chair of the local international committee. “In the year 2045,” he added, “this brochure will be an important record of Americana.” “No clamor or din of industry would disturb the quiet of the woodlands,” the other delegates were assured. Some 30,000 of the brochures were initially printed, but today it is virtually impossible to find a copy in any Western New York public library.

The City of Niagara Falls was spotlighted on the brochure cover as the proposed site of the impressive Secretariat building. Perhaps ironically, if the massive project were ever completed it would have been neither in the City of Niagara Falls, NY, nor even in Niagara County for that matter, since Canada owned the pristine property. This fact would prove troublesome when the U.N. committee mandated that the new peace center be built in the United States. In response, the Niagara Falls Chamber of Commerce recommended that the federal government should be asked to purchase one-half of the island and, under a joint pact with Canada, the two nations could then deed the entire parcel to the U.N. It seemed a weak claim to international appeal.

 “Some people were ready to conduct a decent burial for the Navy Island plan because the site inspection committee had also decided to shun everything outside the environs of New York City, Boston and Philadelphia,” Gazette Editor Thomas J. Berrigan wrote in an editorial. In addition, San Francisco was still mentioned as having an inside track since the conference to charter the U.N. was held there. Countless delegates had vivid memories of the gracious hospitality and unmatched beauty of the city by the bay. Among the hundreds of journalists who attended the 1945 charter sessions was John F. Kennedy, a 28-year-old Navy veteran on assignment for the Chicago Herald-American.  Fifteen years later he would become the 35th president of the United States.

Amidst all the second-guessing, however, was the harsh reality that the final decision would be made by the Big Five—The United States, Great Britain, France, Russia and China. The leaders of these nations were divided, however. President Harry S. Truman and Premier Joseph Stalin of Russia supported an American site while refraining from a specific location. General Charles de Gaulle was said to endorse Navy Island and Chiang Kai-Shek still liked San Francisco. Geneva, Switzerland, was frequently touted as well, although its one advantage—a building ready for occupancy – was rated inappropriate as a stark reminder of the dead League of Nations.

On the home front, the Niagara Gazette raised concerns that the city had not taken the matter seriously enough. “The UN headquarters has to go some place and there is no reason why Niagara Falls should be left at the post in the race for world capital honors,” the Gazette editorial claimed. After all, in its bid for the peace body, Philadelphia had sent a delegation to San Francisco—before the U.N. Charter had even been signed—to entertain foreign delegates, made relentless rounds of button-holing and even had a talk with U.S. Secretary of State Edward Stettinius. While the Philadelphia delegation returned home, it left a public relations man on the scene to continue promoting the interests of the City of Brotherly Love. Supporters of a site in South Dakota conducted a vigorous drive, bombarding the delegates with pamphlets and booklets extolling the advantages and assets of the Black Hills. The governors of Nebraska and Wyoming joined in that same bid.

By late December, members of the U.N. committee tasked with recommending a headquarters site had narrowed the field slightly, limiting the location to somewhere east of the Mississippi River thanks, in part, to a British lobbying effort.  Thus, the Navy Island plan was still technically in the running, though the fact that the island itself was Canadian continued to be a potential deal breaker.

Realizing the restrictions could rule out the Navy Island bid, nearby Grand Island—with a population then of 3,081—was offered as an alternative. After all, it was argued the larger island had a dignity and character of its own. Among the advantages, promoters stressed that only a few farmhouses and summer cottages would have to be razed, while water, natural gas and electrical facilities were immediately available and sanitary equipment could be quickly installed. And though it was hardly noticed, it was the first time the proximity to Buffalo—not Niagara Falls—was stressed to the U.N. commission.

By early 1946, however, the U.N. site committee’s attention seemed to focus on areas around the East Coast centers of Boston and New York City.  In January, a site inspection team crossed the Atlantic to tour a number of potential locations in the Northeast, as local boosters continued their respective campaigning.  Of particular interest by the time the U.N. officials departed for London on February 2 was a pleasant rural site within reach of New York City—but not within the city itself.  That had apparently been ruled out. It was in the extreme western end of Connecticut and eastern Westchester County. It included about one-third of the town of Greenwich, and all of North Castle. Land values were so high in the 42-square-mile area that some critics claimed the U.N. would be spending $100 million more than was necessary in order to be near New York City’s posh restaurants and night clubs.

Throughout the summer of 1946, U.N. representatives continued to tour possible locations, not only in Westchester County but within New York City itself, as the Security Council had settled into marginal and controversial quarters in a converted gymnasium at Hunter College in the Bronx as an interim measure. Although New York City had initially been ruled out as a location, the behind-the-scenes machinations of power brokers like Nelson Rockefeller, Robert Moses and Thomas J. Watson, along with New York City Mayor William O’Dwyer, had put it back on the potential site map.

Still there was vacillation and with it came further jockeying and promotion from still-hopeful cities.  San Francisco was out, but then it was back in, while the same could be said for Boston and Philadelphia, the latter of which emerged as the front runner for a compromise site by the end of November.

The issue was still unresolved on December 6, 1945, when real estate baron, William Zeckendorf, read about the committee’s preference for Philadelphia in The New York Times. Zeckendorf and his partners had been developing properties along the East River in Manhattan for an elevated, Rockefeller Center-style “city within a city.”  They dubbed it simply the “X-City.” According to Zeckendorf, after reading the Philadelphia story in the newspaper he suddenly turned to his wife and said, “I`m going to put those bastards on the platform.” His wife inquired, “Which bastards on what platform?” 

“The U.N. – I’m going to put them on the platform over the slaughterhouses,” he said. It was a reference to the East River district, whose slaughterhouses and tenements Zeckendorf had planned to replace with an enormous platform supporting office buildings, apartments, a convention hall, a hotel and heliport with parking below.

Zeckendorf’s enthusiasm to his wife, in and of itself, resolved nothing, however, and it seemed unlikely that anything would be resolved any time soon. The final choice of the headquarters location rested with the General Assembly. While it was generally accepted that Navy Island was no longer in the running, some proponents of that site were still optimistic the entire issue would be reopened when the site committee presented its recommendations. Meanwhile, supporters of Philadelphia, San Francisco and other communities outside the New York and Boston regions were determined to present their cases. Together they formed a powerful block. While the report of the site committee headed by Dr. Stoyan Garvilovic, chairman of the inspection group, would doubtless carry considerable weight, several countries were expecting the whole matter to be reopened and provide a “second chance” for the many locations not even inspected in the initial rounds.

All the speculation and bragging rights virtually vanished like the mist over the falls on a windy December 10, 1946. That day, two of the Rockefeller brothers—Nelson and Laurance—approached their father, John D. Rockefeller, Jr., about the possibility of offering the family’s Rockwood Hall estate in Westchester County along the Hudson River, which had been owned for decades by their great-uncle William, as another option for the U.N. The elder Rockefeller cautioned his sons against such a move, adding that the headquarters complex would require much more land and that could mean giving up the family’s various homes in the area, even the residential hub of the legendary family seat at Pocantico Hills.

But the real solution appeared when the elder Rockefeller asked his son Nelson to name the ideal site for the headquarters, regardless of whether family property was involved or not.  Given the various objections to the myriad of proposals put forth over the past year, and especially in recent months, Nelson felt there was one new option yet available—Zeckendorf’s property along the East River.

A feverish night of mapping, meeting and negotiations followed, and when the dust settled the following morning, a deal had been struck whereby John D. Rockefeller, Jr., would gift the United Nations the sum of $8.5 million for the purpose of purchasing Zeckendorf’s slaughterhouse property.  Staggered by such a tidy package of a proposal following such a lengthy and inconclusive search, the site committee scrambled to arrange an on-site tour by that afternoon. Over the following two days, both the Headquarters Committee and then the General Assembly approved the Rockefeller offer and the selection of a headquarters site was finally at an end.

Rockefeller Center architect, Wallace Harrison, would head a ten-man Board of Design Consultants, made up of architects and designers from around the world, that was then tasked with developing a design for the new headquarters. A groundbreaking ceremony was held on September 14, 1948, kicking off the excavation work that began the construction effort.  The cornerstone of the headquarters was laid by Governor Thomas Dewey in October of the following year, in a ceremony attended by President Harry Truman. The new headquarters complex, featuring the General Assembly Hall, Secretariat Building, Conference Building and Library, was finally declared complete in October 1952.

Despite the hundreds of pitches and solicitations put forth from across the country and around the globe, not every city, town or village dreamed of hosting the U.N.—even in Western New York. Marion E. Klingel, the Grand Island historian and a correspondent then for the Buffalo Evening News, wrote in the weekly Island Dispatch that the town board adopted a resolution staunchly opposing any efforts of the Niagara Frontier Planning Board to advance any plan for the U.N. or the proposed airport. The resolution was introduced by Peace Justice Andrew W. Kirkwood, a town board member. The board was upset by the “outside interests” who had engaged in long-term planning for Grand Island without even consulting the island residents. Judge Kirkwood added, “We are [also] opposed to giving Grand Island back to the Indians.”