O'Connell: History wins at warplane museum

Libby O'Connell is the chief historian for the History Channel, one of the American Airpower Museum's underwriters.

It has none of the grandeur of Grand Central Terminal or the celebrity status of the Montauk Lighthouse, but a simple steel and wooden hangar at Republic Airport in East Farmingdale is as much an essential part of our nation's history as any other landmark that defines our collective experience.

Home to the American Airpower Museum, with its operational World War II aircraft and armor, it was slated for the wrecker's ball until a coalition led by U.S. Sen. Charles Schumer (D-N.Y.) and Rep. Steve Israel (D-Dix Hills) were successful recently in blocking the action.

Once upon a time, this 35,000-square-foot building was at the very center of America's arsenal of democracy, where final touches were applied to Republic Aviation P-47 fighters destined for Allied airfields around the globe. Thousands of Long Islanders worked side by side here, not just forging weapons of war but breaking down the racial and gender barriers that were part of a segregated 1940s society. While Republic's production prowess was extraordinary, what was happening inside this hangar, and in similar defense plants across the nation, would sow the seeds for enormous and positive changes throughout America, especially minorities and women.

Seventy years later that legacy was scheduled to be bulldozed because of changes in Federal Aviation Administration airport regulations. But that threat brought together officials from the State Office of Parks, Recreation and Historic Preservation, as well as lawmakers on Capitol Hill. It saw business leaders and veterans speak out, as Schumer and Israel sat down with the FAA to make the case to find alternatives to demolition.

Ultimately, the FAA blinked, and it will now allow funds slated for the hangar's demolition to instead be use for its relocation. The result is the museum's presence is preserved in this historic hangar, and its dozen historic aircraft can still take to the skies, when weather permits, before 40,000 people annually.

But these kinds of victories are too rare, and most historic structures are not so lucky. They fail to become a rallying cry for elected officials or the community at large. They are not recognized for the iconic landmarks they are and become forgotten afterthoughts, unseen by those who pass by them every day. Rescuing these structures becomes a herculean task, because they invariably require significant amounts of political and financial capital.

While advocacy efforts -- including those of the History Channel, which has created a nationwide preservation program along with local landmark agencies and the U.S. Department of the Interior -- can provide a template for empowering regional historic organizations, these kinds of programs can't be effective without a grassroots appreciation of the heritage that stands within the shadow of our everyday lives.

On Long Island the respect of the Republic hangar's history was broad and deep. Advocates for its preservation included students from Dowling College and a former Rosie the Riveter: Josephine Rachielle, who worked in the hangar in 1944. This intergenerational participation represented a broad-based appreciation of what was at risk and why it was so important to save it. This approach should be seen as a model -- for other threatened sites on Long Island and in communities nationwide -- for those who see the arrival of a wrecking ball by their own beloved landmarks and believe themselves powerless to defend against it.

There is no question that the revitalization of any town is based on its ability to reinvent itself and maintain its relevance within a broader economy. That often requires the replacement of outdated structures and obsolete buildings. The challenge is identifying what should go and what is an essential part of our nation's story.

At Republic Airport, they got it right. The rest of us should not only applaud but take notes as to how it was done, who led the charge and how a motivated coalition of history preservationists, regardless of title, age or career, managed to save something quite precious: our own heritage.