Recently, I came across a striking photograph that stopped me in my tracks—a stunning image of Manhattan’s iconic Twin Towers with a beach in the foreground. Sunbathers reclined on the sand, creating a surreal scene more reminiscent of a tropical getaway than the heart of New York City. Could such a place have truly existed?
New York City’s Hidden Beach of the Past
It’s hard to believe now, but near the area where the Twin Towers once stood, a beach once graced the shoreline. Today, a walk near Battery Park reveals a completely transformed landscape. The site is now defined by sleek skyscrapers, busy streets, and the hum of modern city life.
Gone are the sandy stretches where people once lounged by the water. Instead, a polished promenade hugs the shoreline, offering peaceful views of the Statue of Liberty. The waves gently meet the edge of this urban oasis, a far cry from the forgotten beach that was once part of New York’s history.
The truth is, there was a time when people basked in the sun, right in the shadow of the World Trade Center. This forgotten slice of serenity—a sandy beach along Manhattan’s waterfront—offered a brief escape from the city’s chaos. Here, the waters of the harbor provided a tranquil backdrop for sunbathers, volleyball games, and quiet readers seeking solace in an unlikely spot.
A Beach Born by Accident
This unexpected oasis wasn’t part of any urban master plan. Instead, it emerged by chance during the mid-1970s, as delays in the construction of the World Trade Center reshaped the landscape. Excavation for the Twin Towers’ massive foundation left behind a temporary shoreline, inadvertently creating a sandy retreat that locals quickly embraced.
An Unofficial Urban Escape
Although it was never intended for public use, the makeshift beach became a beloved hideaway. Manhattanites flocked to the spot, turning it into a sun-soaked haven where the everyday hustle of the city felt miles away. Known informally as Battery Park Beach, it became a rare gem amid the city’s concrete expanse, with its own unique charm.
One of the people who remembers this hidden treasure is Suellen Epstein, who grew up in the nearby Tribeca neighborhood. Captured in a photograph from 1977, Epstein can be seen enjoying the summer sun at the beach. In an interview with Tribeca Citizen, she reminisced about those days, noting that the sand was far from pristine—coarse and gritty, rather than the soft, fine grains of tropical shores. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough for the city’s residents to carve out their own moments of peace.
What began as an accidental byproduct of construction delays became a cherished memory for those who experienced it—a reminder of the unexpected beauty that can arise in the most unlikely places.
“We didn’t have the means to escape to the Hamptons,” Suellen Epstein told Tribeca Citizen. “So, on any sunny Sunday—provided it wasn’t wet—we were out there on the beach. It was the perfect spot to spend the day reading through the entire Sunday Times.”
In a rare photograph, Suellen and her boyfriend are seen enjoying a peaceful moment of solitude at the beach. On the day the photo was taken, the sandy retreat was entirely theirs.
“It didn’t feel like the city,” Suellen reminisced. “It was like our own version of the Manhattan countryside.”
A Stage for Peaceful Protest
The accidental beach, created from “acres and acres of landfill,” was more than just a haven for urban dwellers. It also became a symbol of activism. On September 23, 1979, the unassuming stretch of sand was transformed into a historic gathering spot during a massive anti-nuclear rally.
One iconic black-and-white photograph captures the moment: hundreds of people sitting on the sandy expanse, basking in the sun and live music while advocating for change. Drawing a crowd of 200,000 to the southern tip of Manhattan, it became the largest anti-nuclear, pro-solar rally in history.
The beach may no longer exist, but its legacy lives on as a reminder of New York’s ever-changing landscape—and the power of unexpected spaces to bring people together, whether for tranquility or transformation.
The rally wasn’t just historic for its size—it also drew an impressive roster of celebrities who lent their voices and talents to the cause. Folk music legend Pete Seeger and singer-songwriter Jackson Browne performed, while actress and activist Jane Fonda delivered a stirring speech.
The event marked a resurgence of the national protest movement, which had largely quieted after the Vietnam War ended in 1975. This time, the focus was on nuclear energy, sparked by the alarming nuclear accident at Three Mile Island in Harrisburg earlier that year.
A Creative Canvas for Artists
Beyond its role as a stage for activism, Battery Park Beach—also known as Tribeca Beach—became a hub for artistic expression and innovation. During the late 1970s and early 1980s, New York City’s art scene thrived as smaller dance companies and individual artists found space and opportunity in the city. One organization, Creative Time, received funding to bring art to the beach, transforming the area into a dynamic creative playground.
In 1980, the beach hosted Art on the Beach, a groundbreaking series of installations. Among the contributors was environmental artist Mary Miss, whose striking works highlighted the site’s industrial and natural interplay. Another standout was 27-year-old sculptor Nancy Rubins, who crafted a towering 45-foot sculpture from salvaged items like lampshades, hoses, and small appliances sourced from thrift stores.
“It was humbling to work there,” Rubins recalled in an interview with The New York Times. “I was young, and the scale of the site was immense.”
A Wheat Field Amid Skyscrapers
One of the most iconic works to grace the beach was Wheatfield – A Confrontation by artist Agnes Denes. Her thought-provoking installation transformed two acres of landfill into a golden wheat field, planted within sight of Wall Street and the World Trade Center, with the Statue of Liberty standing in the background. The piece served as a poignant critique of urbanization, consumerism, and the tension between nature and progress.
From celebrity-driven rallies to large-scale art installations, Battery Park Beach was a fleeting but unforgettable chapter in New York’s history, blending activism, creativity, and a rare slice of tranquility in the city that never sleeps.
Agnes Denes and her team spent a month planting wheat in the shadow of Manhattan’s skyscrapers, working tirelessly to bring her vision to life. Denes, often putting in 16-hour days, aimed to deliver a stark message to America’s financial epicenter about the urgency of environmental and societal issues.
“Planting and harvesting a field of wheat on land valued at $4.5 billion created a profound paradox,” Denes explained on her website. Wheatfield symbolized a universal concept, touching on themes of food, energy, commerce, and global economics while also highlighting mismanagement, waste, hunger, and ecological concerns.
Photos of the project remain awe-inspiring, much like the Manhattan beach itself—a striking contrast to the city’s relentless urban development.
The Creative Energy Behind Manhattan’s Beach
The same innovative spirit that fueled Denes’s wheat field also drew individuals like David Vanden-Eynden and Chris Galori to Manhattan’s unexpected beach. They are captured in an evocative photograph from 1977, taken by Fred Conrad, a former New York Times photographer.
David, an environmental graphic designer, reflected on the scene in a 2019 interview with The New York Times: “There was nothing there yet, and the views of the Twin Towers and the river were spectacular.” He noted that while parts of the landfill were fenced off, much of it remained accessible, allowing curious visitors to explore this unusual space.
The Changing Landscape of Battery Park Beach
But what became of this unlikely retreat? By 1983, the transformation of Battery Park City had begun, with nearly 3,000 residents moving into the area. By 2000, nearly all of the landfill had been redeveloped into the sleek urban environment seen today.
However, the serene beach scenes captured in the 1970s take on an entirely different tone when viewed through the lens of history. The events of September 11, 2001, forever altered the skyline and the spirit of the city. Looking at those photos of sunbathers relaxing under the shadow of the Twin Towers, it’s impossible not to reflect on the profound changes that would come, casting a haunting shadow over these moments of peace and simplicity.
On the Beach, Manhattan, 1977
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Today, we view these photos with a perspective those in them couldn’t have fathomed: the tragic fate of the World Trade Center, an event that would irrevocably alter New York City’s skyline and history.
The images now carry an elegiac and haunting quality. One observer poignantly remarked, “My God, this picture captures it all—life, death, youth, age, stillness, anticipation.”
It’s difficult not to feel the weight of those words. The sunbathers, blissfully unaware of what the future held, enjoyed a carefree moment that now feels shrouded in the shadow of impending tragedy.
“So much could be said,” another reflected, “but I’ll just look—and cry.”
These now-iconic photographs serve as a stark reminder of time’s relentless march and the unpredictability of change. They remind us that life can transform in ways we can neither foresee nor prepare for.
If this story resonated with you, share it with your friends—perhaps by hitting the share button on Facebook—to reflect on the fleeting nature of history and memory.
