Cavanaugh Triangle. A small, unassuming patch of green. But don’t let its size fool you. Cavanaugh Triangle holds a story of defiance. A story of one man’s fight against the relentless march of progress. This isn’t Cavanaugh Triangle, though. This is Hess Triangle. Let’s talk about that instead. Right here at the corner of Christopher and Seventh Avenue South, lies a small, triangular patch of land. Hess Triangle. It’s smaller than a parking space. Yet, it carries the weight of a powerful story.
In the early 1900s, New York City was undergoing a massive transformation. The IRT subway line was expanding. Seventh Avenue needed widening. This meant demolishing buildings. One such building belonged to David Hess. He owned the Voorhis, a five-story apartment building. Hess fought tooth and nail to save his property. He resisted eminent domain laws. But in the end, the city prevailed. The Voorhis was demolished.
However, the surveyors made a mistake. They overlooked a tiny, 500-square-inch triangle of Hess’s land. When the city asked Hess to donate this sliver, expecting him to acquiesce after his larger loss, he refused. This small triangle became a symbol of his resistance. In 1922, he covered it with mosaic tiles. The tiles proclaimed, “Property of the Hess Estate Which Has Never Been Dedicated For Public Purposes.”
Hess Triangle, a small triangle of spite, became a New York City legend. Pedestrians unknowingly walk over it every day. Village Cigars purchased the triangle in 1938. It remains a testament to one man’s stubborn refusal to be erased. Hess Triangle is a reminder that even in the face of overwhelming odds, the spirit of individuality can endure. A tiny triangle in the heart of the Village, whispering a tale of defiance.