By Steve Cichon
steve@buffalostories.com
@stevebuffalo
Fort Makowski
More than four decades removed from the time he left office, there aren’t many Buffalonians who can claim to be a better representation of what it means to be a Buffalonian than Stan Makowski.
Buffalo’s mayor from 1974-77, Makowski was a World War II vet and a lifelong member of the Grain Millers’ Union. He lost half a finger in an accident at a grain mill, but it didn’t stop him from representing Tippie’s Social & Athletic Club in statewide bowling tournaments – even as mayor.
The pride of Buffalo’s Valley neighborhood, just about everyone loved Stan Makowski. Outside of being remembered as a good guy, he is remembered as the mayor during the Blizzard of ’77 and for an ill-fated public works project that became the talk of the country for a few weeks in 1976.
The opening paragraph in a New York Times story about the brick enclosure being built around Niagara Square summed up the saga surrounding what’s remembered as “Fort Makowski.”
Mayor Stanley Makowski
“A six-foot brick wall being erected around the square in front of City Hall here in a $575,000 public works beautification project is being torn down next week because the public finds it too ugly,” reported The Times.
The official name was “Niagara Square Beautification Project,” but almost immediately, it seemed as work got underway in August 1976 that “beauty” was not the first thought of most folks.
“When are they going to learn, what we need in this city is simplicity, taste and restraint,” said Virginia Tillou, one of Buffalo’s great artists, arbiters of taste and Allentown Association leader.
Opponents said the dark bricks walled up around the McKinley monument not only clashed with surrounding architecture, but also would become “a haven for muggers and rapists.”
Designer Robert O’Hara’s idea was to wall off the outside world so that downtown folks could take a peaceful breather on a patio surrounded by planters and greenery near the fountain at the center of the square.
Tillou said it would be like “some local artist painting over a Rembrandt” to make it look better.
Opposition also came from those who questioned whether the federal funds being used in the project – originally earmarked for fixing the McKinley monument fountain – were being misdirected.
At a time when Buffalo’s massive hemorrhaging of good jobs had only just begun, Makowski buoyed the project by underlining the thousand-plus desperately-needed trades jobs that were created as the structure was being built.
But as newspapers around the country poked fun at Buffalo, our giant brick wall and our mayor, a nine-member panel organized by Makowski agreed that the wall should come down. Work began almost immediately.
As Makowski watched the structure come down, he told reporters, “It proves you can fight city hall and win.”
In the end, “Fort Makowski” wasn’t a total loss.
Eventually, most of the bricks were used in a project sprucing up sidewalks and pathways in the Allentown and Day’s Park areas, where the construction materials brought no aesthetic protests, only smiles and appreciation.
