One of the difficulties in being a preservationist is deciding when to fight and when to call it a day. Trojans are now trying to decide which way to go regarding South Troy's Gasholder, an industrial artifact of the 1924 Hudson Valley Coke & Products Corp. (Niagara Hudson Coke) plant on former Burden Iron Company lands (today, the King Fuels area).

This large black round metal building, famous as a landmark in Troy for its "wink," has been a symbol of Troy's industrial heritage for over 75 years. They key word is "symbol" and herein lies the issue. Do we need to save "symbols," or does preservation only apply to buildings and structures that can be "rehabbed," that is put back into use? Troy will not be making coke or coal gas again, so it's certain that this gasholder will not be put back into former use. It would be difficult to find a new purpose, other than perhaps as a canvas for a newly painted mural on the history of Troy.

It's also not "pretty." Unfortunate that something has to appeal to an artistic eye to be valued. Nothing personal, but some of this "modern" art I view doesn't do much for me either, so let's not use "prettiness" as a deciding factor on whether something should be saved. Admittedly, industrial archaeology is a tough sell!

What is important is the message the artifact conveys to the senses and how it fits in with surrounding views. If not pretty, then what? In this case, the tall round metal object conveys a time when Troy was on its last legs as an industrial city, not to mention the Burden family's last attempt to be a player in the city. It also represents a time when we relied on a different source of energy for industrial processes. Coke, made from coal, was (and is still) used as a reducing agent in smelting iron ore in blast furnaces, and as a fuel for stoves. Coal gas was used to light street and home lights. (French missionaries discovered Native Americans igniting natural gas in NW New York State in 1622). Historically, the by-product chemicals were of high value in agriculture and in the chemical industry, and profits made from their sale were often of greater importance than the actual coke produced.

Will the demolition of the gashouse and its adjacent buildings filled with a highway of pipes, valves, and fittings cause a local outpour of emotion and support. Probably not! Should it? I'm not sure! However, as we continue to lose pieces of our past, one day we will wake up to find Troy looking just like any other city - a city of tacky plywood, vanilla boxes, and corporate logos that make it impossible to differentiate it from any other city in the USA. That will be the tragedy.

What makes Troy special is its combination of architecture - residential, commercial, and industrial - and the human history that is associated with it all. It is the "look and feel" of the city that attracts people to it. When that look and feel is replaced with a commonalty shared with any other city, Troy is no longer unique, but rather just another old city trying to fool itself with new fangled facades and neon lights.

A great song loses its greatness when you take out important notes, or chunks of melody. Similarly, a great city is no longer great when you remove the very symbols of its history that made it great in the first place.

Troy once had several gasholders. With the demolition of this one, all that will remain is the brick-skinned gasholder off Hill Street. The irony in this is that the Hill Street gasholder is the official logo of the Society for Industrial Archaeology, an international organization dedicated to preserving industrial archaeology. It seems people around the world recognize the importance of these artifacts, but not the landlords here at home.

In Troy, the mentality seems to be tear down anything that is old. This thinking is as old as the structures coming down. Elsewhere in the world, cities and communities are looking at their history in a stewardship role. Just two years ago, the little country of New Zealand dedicated the Engine House Dunedin Gasworks Museum, following nearly fifteen years of preparation. The museum stands as a living monument to what was New Zealand's first and last coal-fired gasworks.

Will Trojans wake up before we reach the critical point when we can no longer say "Welcome to Historic Troy," but rather "Welcome to Anyplace, USA." Only time will tell, and that is something, like our history, that we are running out of!