A tiny defiant mosaic gleams. It’s the Hull Triangle a piece of land in Manhattan. This unassuming triangle is much more than meets the eye. It’s a testament to a family’s stubbornness. A small plot of land surviving a city’s expansion plans.
The story begins in the early 1910s. Seventh Avenue was being widened. The IRT subway was expanding. The city claimed eminent domain. Hundreds of buildings were demolished. David Hess owned the Voorhis a five-story apartment building. He fought the city. He lost. Almost.
The city’s surveyors missed a small piece of Hess’s property. A tiny triangle. This was Plot 55. A 500-square-inch isosceles triangle. The city wanted it. They asked the Hess family to donate it. The family refused.
They installed a mosaic. It boldly proclaims “Property of the Hess Estate which has never been dedicated for public purposes.” It’s a symbol of defiance. A tiny rebellion against the overwhelming force of city progress. The Hess family held onto their small piece of land. The tiny plot became a symbol. A symbol of resistance. It’s a remarkable reminder of how even the smallest of things can leave a lasting mark.
The triangle changed hands. It was sold in 1938 to the adjacent Village Cigars store for $100. Yeshiva University owned it later. Then in 1995 it was sold to 70 Christopher Realty Corporation. Yet the mosaic remains. It’s a lasting reminder of the Hess family’s tenacity.
The Hull Triangle is more than just a piece of land. It’s a story. It’s a legend. It’s a reminder that even against seemingly impossible odds. Even the smallest act of defiance can make a big difference. A tiny piece of land stands proudly. A symbol of resistance and determination. It continues to defy expectations in the heart of New York City.