Before there was a Co-Op City, there was an amusement park, Freedomland U.S.A. Before Freedomland—more than 300 years before—there was Vreedelandt, or Land of Freedom, so named by the Dutch West India Company, which purchased the land from the Siwanoy people in 1639.
Once the early settlers cleared parcels of the wilderness to reveal level ground and rich soil, they began to establish farms. Generation after generation, family farms were continued and others were created, and the area became known for its farming.
The upper end of the Co-Op City apartment complex stands where Nathan Johnston grew cucumbers and built a pickle factory in the 1800s. Toward the end of that century Nathan’s son William inherited the farm, and soon after a blight killed off the cucumbers. William turned to strawberry farming. He did well until 1918, when the quality of his strawberries began to deteriorate. An attack of worms in 1929 finished off the crop, ending William’s farming career.
William then sold the property to an aircraft company, which proposed building an airport. When that plan was scrapped, the next proposal was for a racetrack. That plan failed, too.
In the late 1950s, near the place where the Hutchinson River emptied into Eastchester Bay, William Zeckendorf filled in about 200 acres of wetlands on the west side of the river. Taking in the former Johnston farmland as well, Zeckendorf built an education amusement park, fully expecting it to compete with Disneyland. Freedomland U.S. A. opened on June 19, 1960.
Laid out in the shape of the United States, the park featured live scenes from American history. Beginning with a stroll through the streets of old New York, complete with horses and buggies and people in period costumes, patrons walked through different regions of the simulated country. They watched reenactments of events such as the Great Chicago Fire and gunfights in the Old Southwest, and visited San Francisco in 1906, the year of the earthquake.
To think that an amusement park in the Northeast could compete with Disneyland in California is to ignore the climate factor; unlike Disneyland, Freedomland could only be open for five months of the year.
Another downside was the number of visitors to the park during its first year; it fell far below the five million its promoters had projected. Suspecting that the educational/historical theme did not appeal to the masses, they ramped up the entertainment aspect with features like roller coasters and pop-star concerts. Things did not improve. And then the World’s Fair in nearby Queens opened in April of 1964, delivering the fatal blow to Freedomland U.S.A. It closed for good on September 15, 1964.
Because I was very young, I only vaguely remember my one and only visit to Freedomland. I remember the Old Southwest and the show girl in the flouncy red dress who pushed open the saloon doors and danced out, singing. I remember the startling (and loud) gunfight that followed. But what I remember most clearly about Freedomland are the fireworks that I watched from my bedroom window. I can’t remember if they were a nightly event or held only on weekends, but I had an unobstructed view of the display that spangled the northeastern sky with light and color.
In just a few years, that part of the sky would lose forever its wide-open aspect. It would be partly obscured by the buildings of Co-Op City.
My eighth-grade classroom windows overlooked the rising structures of Co-Op City. Our teacher, Sister Mary Ellen, would often gaze out at them and repeat a dire warning: “Those apartment buildings are standing on marshland. They won’t last 20 years. You’ll see.”
© Barbara Cole 2020. All rights reserved.