For the last 20 years, Richard George has battled to save a cluster of bungalows in the Rockaways by pestering officials, filing lawsuits, and buying up as many of the one-story structures as possible in hopes of preserving an architectural style that reflects a unique time and place in the city’s history.
As development in the area accelerates, the bungalows, once the locus of working-class leisure-time seaside pursuits, face an uncertain future. Partly in response to the architectural activist’s attention, more Manhattanites are discovering the charms of dunes and sea breezes in the narrow 11-mile stretch of south Queens.
Home to the occasionally jarring juxtapositions of housing projects fronting sandy beaches, the Rockaways spent recent decades slowly decaying, but have enjoyed robust redevelopment in recent years. The bungalows predate the housing projects, built in the early 1900s as oceanfront homes for a blue-collar population that’s as much a historical artifact as their beachfront homes.
Filmmaker Jennifer Callahan is seeking funding to wrap up her documentary, “The Bungalows of Rockaway,” which chronicles the neighborhood’s roots as the so-called Irish Riviera.
Other professionals are turning the area into something of a bohemian gold coast.
“We’ve had people opening bungalows as an art studio along with some writers and people who work in film who bought bungalows,” said George. “Someone from Williamsburg moved in, as did a professor of linguistics at Queensboro Community College.”
And along Beach 25th Street, Jeanne Dupont and her family bought a bungalow in February 2005.
“Soon a group of us started renovating them and the word spread as people invited their friends to come visit,” she said. “We’re there every weekend and it’s a nice group. Most of us are involved in the arts in some way, but there are lots of different demographics and income levels.”
There are days when she and her family — husband John Nishimoto and their two children — consider renting out the West Village apartment that they own and moving to the bungalow, though the long commute on the A train is unappealing.
Most of the bungalows are owned by the city, taken through liens executed during the 1950s, when the area lost its appeal as a summer destination. A few dozen are owned by preservationists who bought them with plans to renovate and sell. George has restored about 10 to date.
Each bungalow stands one-story tall and ranges from 575 to 625 square feet. They’re built with the same blueprint — three tiny bedrooms, a living room and a kitchen — though several have been modified. A unit recently sold for $240,000.
Where once thousands of cozy vacation bungalows filled dozens of blocks in the area, George counts 119 still standing, many of them between Beach 24th to Beach 26th streets, an area as far from Manhattan’s glitz as one can get while still being within city limits.
George lives in a courtyard off Beach 24th Street, where the brick walls of the Wavecrest housing complex — which he fought unsuccessfully to stop — contrast sharply with the nearly unbroken line of small vacation homes across the street.
He and several allies are fighting development elsewhere in their corner of the city. One nearby threat is the proposed 13-story Metroplex on the Atlantic, under construction next to the boardwalk, which George claims illegally stands atop an easement.
“In the last five years, all of a sudden, the development is really taking off,” said Jonathan Gaska, district manager of Community Board 14. “A lot of what’s going up is out of context with what’s there, so we’re trying to push City Planning to do some contextual downzoning in the area.” Downzoning is a practice that limits the types of development allowed in an area, and is used to moderate rapid growth.
Few private sites remain, he said, since the city owns much of the land in the Far Rockaways, he said. The city has plans to develop all 308 acres in nearby Arverne. The first phase, Arverne by the Sea, is underway between Beach 62nd Street and Beach 80th Street. The $400 million project is about one-fifth completed and will consist of 2,300 residential units and 250,000 square feet of retail space spread across 117 acres. Last year, the city floated a request for proposals for East Arverne, a 47-acre parcel between Beach 32nd Street and Beach 58th Street.
As retro-minded Manhattanites turn the area into a summer Soho, they may ignite a run on the remaining bungalows. George is trying to landmark as many of them as he can, though he has gotten a chilly reception by the Landmarks Preservation Commission.
“When I told people that we lived out here they were stunned, because this area has a reputation as a dangerous place, but it’s great for families,” said Dupont. “Two years ago this place looked like a mess, and now it’s great to see a transformation happening.”