This chapter paints a vivid and complex picture of Robert Moses at the peak of his influence, capturing both the vast scale of his accomplishments and the troubling aspects of his leadership. Moses is depicted as the undisputed ruler of his self-fashioned “Triborough empire,” exercising such absolute control that board meetings and oversight became little more than empty rituals. Driven by an unquenchable thirst for achievement and the power it brought, Moses poured every ounce of energy into his work. His daily life was a whirlwind: he left all household matters to his wife, worked late into the night drafting endless memos, and even turned his car into a rolling office. No circumstance—illness, vacation, or family event—could interrupt his relentless output. His staff often found themselves scrambling to keep up with the constant stream of directives.
Moses’s management style was famously harsh and demanding. He expected his team to deliver quick, to-the-point answers, and had little tolerance for details that didn’t interest him. His impatience was legendary, sometimes boiling over into shouting, insults, or even throwing things. Despite growing older, Moses kept up a punishing schedule, swimming with vigor and writing prolifically. His stamina was both awe-inspiring and exhausting for those around him. This intensity set the tone for his entire organization, creating an atmosphere charged with urgency and a sense of reverence. Staff would rush to prepare for his arrival, treating him almost like royalty, always feeling the pressure to meet his high expectations.
Ironically, Moses’s personal finances didn’t match the grandeur of his public image. Even though he received generous commissions and bequests, he often found himself short on cash, spending freely and channeling his resources into his projects rather than personal wealth. Still, he lived with a certain imperial flair, enjoying luxury cars, personal drivers, and special privileges like breezing through toll booths. His offices and events were staffed by loyal entourages, and he hosted lavish lunches that both celebrated his accomplishments and reinforced his authority.
Moses’s flair for spectacle and exclusivity was especially clear at places like Jones Beach and the Marine Stadium, which he developed as grand, state-funded venues for elite gatherings. The stadium featured extravagant productions on a stage surrounded by a moat, with the best seats reserved for corporations and Moses’s personal guests, including politicians and dignitaries. He personally chose the programming, often ignoring public preferences—as when he insisted on staging Song of Norway instead of the crowd favorite. Despite the scale and cost, public attendance was low, but Moses seemed more interested in prestige and exclusivity than popular appeal, repeating productions for his select audience.
The Jones Beach theater, unlike more centrally located venues, mainly catered to beachgoers and, more specifically, to Moses’s handpicked guests. Attendance records showed that performances often played to nearly empty houses, with most seats filled by Moses’s invitees. The shows, led by Guy Lombardo and his orchestra, were essentially private events, heavily subsidized by public funds but run for the Lombardo brothers’ profit. Moses guaranteed their financial success by covering operational costs and granting them exclusive rights to theater revenues and advertising. Although lawmakers expected the theater to repay its $4.2 million subsidy, taxpayers never saw a return, and by 1967, costs had ballooned by another $5 million. Moses spared no expense for his guests, providing limousines, personal escorts, and carefully curated tours of his public works, all capped off with exclusive entertainment at Jones Beach. In the end, public resources were used to create a regal experience for a privileged few, rather than serving the wider community.
Moses’s hospitality was legendary, marked by meticulous planning and a clear desire to impress and influence powerful people. Guests at Jones Beach and the Marine Theater were chauffeured in limousines, greeted by uniformed guides, and treated to private beaches, exclusive dining, and personalized service. The entertainment included special activities for children, prime theater seats, backstage tours, and post-show dancing. Moses himself, though often preoccupied with work, would make memorable appearances, charming guests with stories and personal warmth. Annual gatherings, such as those for his Yale classmates, were thoughtfully organized, creating a sense of camaraderie and leaving a lasting impression.
But this hospitality was more than just social nicety—it was a calculated tool of influence. Once an outsider at Yale, Moses became the center of his social world by hosting extravagant events for a wide range of influential guests and their families. These gatherings ranged from elaborate tours and dinners for planners and officials to grand celebrations marking the completion of major public works, like bridges and dams. Major openings, such as the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge or the Robert Moses Power Dam, drew thousands of guests and dignitaries, with festivities sometimes stretching over several days and featuring unique touches like martini fountains. Through these events, Moses solidified his dominance and built loyalty among key figures in government, business, and the media.
He also used hospitality as a political weapon, leveraging lavish parties and exclusive invitations to sway journalists and officials. Those who offered favorable coverage were rewarded with access, while dissenters found themselves shut out. His “working” lunches were carefully staged to discourage disagreement, with Moses surrounded by supportive aides and using a mix of charm, intimidation, and subtle pressure to win compliance. Many important decisions were made in these informal settings, allowing Moses to bypass official channels and further consolidate his power.
Ultimately, the chapter presents Moses as a force of nature who reshaped New York City and its surroundings on a grand scale. He redirected rivers, filled marshes, created new shorelines, and built much of the city’s modern infrastructure—bridges, highways, parks, and public housing. Yet, as his power grew, so did his arrogance and sense of being above the law. He routinely ignored public input and legal boundaries, as seen in his disregard for public hearing protocols and his illegal removal of beach grass for construction. Surrounded by yes-men and insulated from criticism, Moses became increasingly out of touch with the people he was supposed to serve. His refusal to use a hearing aid, his lack of firsthand experience with driving, and his outdated ideas about public recreation all contributed to a growing disconnect from the city’s changing needs. Despite his vision and achievements, Moses’s unchecked authority allowed him to impose outdated plans on millions, shaping the region according to his own, increasingly obsolete, vision.