Pier Pressure: When Leadership Sinks and Steel Corrodes

Unraveling the Corrosion: Eleanor's Pier and the Rusting Leadership of Roosevelt Island

On a warm April day, on a morning walk around the Island, I came upon a charming wooden pier jutting out into the water. Around the perimeter, there were cafe tables and chairs. The sun and temperature were just right so I sat down to enjoy the grand vista of the tranquil river against the backdrop of the big city. A few workers arrived with their lunch and occupied other tables. They were regulars and this was their special lunch spot. What's better than this? I asked myself. The answer was "not much." This was a place to preserve and savor.

Now, the unthinkable has happened. The Roosevelt Island governing body has willfully allowed our tranquility spot, Eleanor’s Pier, to deteriorate into a roped off pile of decaying wood. Ironically, I just read that this same governing body is about to occupy its new 7000 feet of luxury office space. It left me wondering why they need so much room to do so little.

Eleanor's Pier has been closed for over a year, with no clear reopening in sight. For residents of Roosevelt Island, the question isn't just when the pier will reopen—but why it's been left to corrode for so long. As we dug into the story, it became clear that the real issue isn't just about failing steel but failing leadership. We wanted to understand the root of the pier's structural problems and the accountability—or lack thereof—within RIOC's board. What we uncovered is a narrative of decay, deflection, and overdue reckoning.

The origins of Eleanor's Pier? A delightful mystery. Public records hint at a Hudson Related connection, a major real estate development firm known for its projects across New York City, but details are murky, like looking through fogged glass on a humid New York morning. What is clear? The design flaws are glaring, and the silence from RIOC is deafening. The community deserves answers, and this article is as much a call for historical clarity as it is an exposé. We invite anyone with knowledge to step forward and fill in the blanks. Because what we know is limited, but what we've uncovered is enough to raise eyebrows (and maybe a few legal pads).

Act One: The Curtain Rises on Rust

The drama kicked off at the May 1st, 2024, Operations Committee Meeting, where Mary Cuneen, Acting Chief Operating Officer at the time, now confirmed as Chief Operating Officer (COO), RIOC, introduced a modest $200,000 proposal for emergency repairs. The plan? Replace 10 railings with galvanized steel and hope for a 30-year reprieve. The problem? The original design ensured that maintenance was near impossible. The railings were rooted under wooden decks, where sanding and painting were dreams deferred until rust took the stage.

Cue Professor Lydia Tang, RIOC Board Member, stepping into the spotlight with a commanding presence, insisting that due diligence was non-negotiable. Tang firmly advocated for commissioning a full report from a materials and structural engineer to understand the root cause of the deterioration. The meeting buzzed with tension, but the conversation was necessary. Even Gerrald Ellis, Assistant Vice President/Deputy General Counsel, RIOC, admitted they hadn’t commissioned the report as promised.

And then there was David Kraut, RIOC Board Member, contributing as much as the corroded railings themselves. Silent. Observing. Present in body, absent in impact. Until, of course, he resurfaced later in the conversation to wax poetic about his board tenure, suggesting he'd be here even if it took "a million years."

Act Two: Tabling Truths and Poker Faces

By the May 14th Full Board Meeting, Eleanor's Pier was back on the agenda. But just as the discussion heated up, Gerrald Ellis promptly moved to table the decision, citing the need for "additional testing."

Still, concerns about long-term maintenance persisted. Ben Fhala, RIOC Board Member who has since resigned, emphasized the importance of addressing the root causes before committing to surface-level fixes. Supporting his stance, Professor Lydia Tang, RIOC Board Member, remained steadfast, reiterating the need for expert analysis before moving forward. Meanwhile, Meghan Anderson, representing RIOC Chair RuthAnne Visnauskas, Commissioner of New York State Homes and Community Renewal, tried her best to stay cool—but let’s just say poker wasn’t her game. Every time tough questions were raised, her face flushed with frustration, her skin turning a shade of translucent red that even the pier's rust couldn’t match.

And while leadership shuffled their notes and hedged their answers, one thing became clear: the island's commitment to transparency was as stable as its railings.

Act Three: When Ghosts of Expertise Awaken

Fast-forward to the February 3rd, 2025, REDAC Meeting, where truths and contradictions collided. It took Alveiro Santo Maria, Capital Planning, RIOC, to finally admit the core issue: five out of 14 foundational piles were severely corroded, threatening the pier’s long-term stability. The proposed quick fix? Not enough. It was only due to Professor Tang’s insistence that this deeper issue was finally confronted.

And then—like a ghost rising from the ruins—David Kraut found his voice. He regaled the room with tales of his involvement in building Pier 76, explaining pile construction as though narrating an epic. Except, of course, there's no public record to verify his claims. But records or not, one thing is certain: Kraut will remain on the board long after the last railing gives way. It's a kind of immortality that only government boards can offer.

But the real kicker? Judy Birdy, Community Member, added a historical bombshell: some of the pier’s foundations might date back to the 1890s, possibly remnants from the Queensboro Bridge era. Which means this pier wasn’t just poorly maintained—it was likely built on bones older than the RIOC itself.

The Final Word: Where Do We Go from Here?

If real change is going to happen, it needs to start with supporting voices like Professor Tang. Unfortunately, the deck is stacked against her—and corroded. Will the board fill the empty seat left behind? Will any of the rust-filled board members, like David Kraut or Howard Polivy, Board Member and Chair of REDAC, ever step down and let new leadership emerge? Or will the pier outlast them, a monument to institutional inertia?

One thing is clear: If RIOC has answers, they know where to find us. We’ve reached out, but don’t hold your breath. In the meantime, Roosevelt Island is still listening—even if some would prefer we stay silent.

Since January 14th, RIOC has had nothing to say. We're still listening.