By Cole Sinanian
In a 2024 interview with the Governor’s Island-based nonprofit, the Institute for Public Architecture, architect and Bay Ridge native John di Domenico recounted life in his neighborhood before the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway:
“The block was very important to you as a child growing up,” he said, “and when summer came along you played games in the street, you played stoopball, stickball.”
It was the basic unit around which urban life was organized. One could imagine, then, the strife brought by its utter destruction when the BQE came through Bay Ridge in the 1960s.
“I think its biggest effect to a 10 or 11 year old was noting at the end of a school year that some students didn’t return because they had to relocate over the summer,” di Domenico said.
The BQE was the infamous New York City urban planner Robert Moses’ magnum opus, a sprawling, highway designed to cut car travel times between Brooklyn and Downtown Manhattan. Built from 1937 to 1964, there was scarcely a Brooklyn community spared from the BQE, which divided tight-knit neighborhoods and sent communities scattering— a demographic shift the borough has yet to fully recover from.
Now, decades after its visionary’s death, the highway is a noisy, crumbling relic of a bygone era. One particular section, the triple cantilever over Furman Street in the Brooklyn Heights, was at risk of collapsing under heavy traffic loads by as early as 2026, until the City reduced the number of traffic lanes from three to two. The City’s Department of Transportation has plans to spend $4 billion to rebuild it in 2029, although the project has brought up questions about the future of the BQE as a whole.
Part of the larger Interstate-278 route, Moses took charge of constructing the Brooklyn portion of the highway, beginning in Greenpoint in the 1950s. Construction passed through Williamsburg, then populated by mostly working class Eastern European, Italian, and Puerto Rican immigrants, according to architect and urban planner Adam Paul Susaneck in his blog, “Segregation by Design.”
After passing through the historic core of Downtown Brooklyn, the highway — cutting diagonally through the city’s grid-structured neighborhoods — dipped into South Brooklyn, where it severed the Red Hook Houses, then home to working-class Black and Italian-American communities, from the rest of the borough via what Susaneck calls a “massive, traffic-choked and exhaust spewing trench between it the rest of the city.”
All told, Moses’ projects from the 1920s-1960s would displace over 250,000 people. Although Moses promised to relocate displaced families to public housing projects, later studies found that the percentage of families actually relocated was minimal. As the BQE cut its way through Brooklyn, a pattern emerged, later identified by Robert Caro in his Moses biography, “The Power Broker.”
Caro writes: “If the number of persons evicted for public works was eye-opening, so were certain of their characteristics…Remarkably few were white. Although the 1950 census found that only 12 percent of the city’s population was nonwhite, at least 37% of the evictees and probably far more were nonwhite.”
It’s worth noting that Moses, the great champion of the highway, did not, according to Caro, have a driver’s license. Furthermore, he spent much of his time in the city being driven around in a “chauffeured limousine,” functioning as a sort of leathery, upholstered office.
“It was in transportation,” Caro writes, “the area in which RM was most active after the war, that his isolation from reality was most complete: because he never even participated in the activity for which he was creating his highways—driving—at all.”
All of this displacement and destruction for a highway that failed to make travel between Manhattan and Brooklyn quicker. In the modern era, traffic has only worsened, as variables that didn’t exist during Moses’ lifetime have stressed the 20th century structure. E-commerce has brought a surge in heavy delivery trucks and the pandemic led to a bump in car travel in the city. Traffic on the BQE, as New York Times reporter Winnie Hu explains in a 2022 interview, seems to be compounding on itself, making for ever-slower, more frustrating travel:
“There have been complaints about more truck traffic in neighborhoods around the B.Q.E. as trucks and cars have gotten off the highway, looking for alternative routes on local roads when the B.Q.E. was backed up.”
Was it all worth it? di Domenico isn’t so sure.
“All of this was the result of this notion that moving across the city was so important, and that the end justified the means,” di Domenico said. “That it was getting through New York that was really important, even if it meant destroying all these individual neighborhoods along the way.”
