Not long ago, a captivating image appeared on my phone—a breathtaking shot of Manhattan’s iconic Twin Towers, with an unexpected beach scene in the foreground. The picture showed people lounging on the sand, as though they were on a tropical getaway. But could this really have been true?

Today, if you visit the area near Battery Park, where the Twin Towers once stood, it’s nearly impossible to imagine a beach ever existed there. The area is now bustling with modern buildings, sleek promenades, and the constant hum of city life. The waters of Manhattan’s harbor quietly lap against the edge of a carefully constructed waterfront, offering views of the Statue of Liberty in the distance.

However, history tells us that this spot was once home to a unique, sandy haven. People sunbathed here, soaking up the warmth of the sun in the shadows of the World Trade Center. This unlikely beach oasis wasn’t part of any grand city plan—it was an accidental creation that emerged during the construction of the Twin Towers in the mid-1970s.

When the massive foundation for the towers was being excavated, workers removed earth from the nearby basin, unintentionally forming a temporary beach along the shoreline. Though not designed for public use, Manhattanites quickly claimed it as their own. The impromptu retreat became a place where sunbathers relaxed, volleyball games sprung up, and readers found solace by the water—all while skyscrapers towered overhead.

This stretch of sand came to be known as Battery Park Beach, a hidden gem cherished by locals. For those who remember it, the memories are vivid. Suellen Epstein, a lifelong Tribeca resident, recalls the beach fondly. In a 1977 photograph, she can be seen basking in the summer sun with her boyfriend.

In an interview, Suellen shared that the sand wasn’t soft or idyllic—it was rough and coarse, untouched by ocean waves. Yet, it served its purpose. “We didn’t have the resources to go out to the Hamptons,” she explained. “Any sunny Sunday, we’d be out there, as long as it wasn’t wet. It was a great place to spend the day.”

For Suellen, the beach felt like a countryside escape within the city. She described moments of serene solitude, like the day the photograph was taken, when she and her boyfriend had the entire beach to themselves.

But Battery Park Beach wasn’t just a quiet retreat; it also became a stage for social movements and artistic expression. On September 23, 1979, the sandy expanse hosted the largest anti-nuclear rally in history. Over 200,000 people gathered at the tip of Manhattan for the event, which featured performances by artists like Pete Seeger and Jackson Browne, and a powerful speech by Jane Fonda.

This rally marked a resurgence of the national protest movement, shifting its focus from the Vietnam War to nuclear energy concerns after a major accident in Harrisburg earlier that year.

In addition to its role in activism, the beach became a hub for creativity. In 1980, the public arts organization Creative Time transformed the space into a dynamic canvas for Art on the Beach. Young artists showcased their work, including sculptor Nancy Rubins, who crafted a massive 45-foot installation from discarded items like lampshades and hoses. Reflecting on the experience, Rubins said, “It was humbling to work there. I was young, and the site was enormous.”

Another memorable installation was Wheatfield – A Confrontation by artist Agnes Denes. She planted two acres of wheat near Wall Street and the World Trade Center, creating a powerful commentary on environmental concerns. Denes described the project as a paradox: planting wheat on land valued at $4.5 billion was a symbolic act addressing food scarcity, waste, and ecological mismanagement.

Yet, as with all things, this unique oasis eventually disappeared. By 1983, the area began to transform. Battery Park City emerged, and by the year 2000, nearly all traces of the beach were gone, replaced by urban development.

The events of September 11, 2001, forever changed the landscape of the area. Looking back at the photographs of sunbathers enjoying their tranquil moments, it’s hard not to feel a sense of poignancy. Those carefree scenes, set against the Twin Towers, now evoke a bittersweet nostalgia.

Reflecting on the images, one person remarked, “This picture has it all: life, death, youth, age, stillness, anticipation.” Another noted, “So much could be said, but I’ll just look and cry.”

These photos remind us of the passage of time and the inevitability of change—often in ways we could never anticipate.