Coney Island History: The Story of George Tilyou and Steeplechase Park
This is the second of four articles on Coney Island's iconic amusement parks and tells the story of George Tilyou's Steeplechase Park. It assumes the reader has read the prior article on Sea Lion Park. Subsequent articles on Luna Park and Dreamland build off of this article.
A Coney Island institution for almost seven consecutive decades, Steeplechase Park was the longest-lived of the three great amusement parks at Coney Island. It predated both Luna Park and Dreamland by over five years and outlasted Luna Park, by then the only other remaining amusement park at Coney Island, by twenty years. Steeplechase's success is based on the principle of its founder, George Tilyou, that the secret to running a successful amusement park is actually quite simple: make people laugh and they will come back.
Steeplechase Park stood in stark contrast to Luna Park and Dreamland. Tilyou was undeniably the most sensible and business-savvy of the major amusement park owners, and was as able a marketer as Luna Park's Thompson. He operated Steeplechase Park under an entirely different business model aimed at driving sustainable profitability. Tilyou purposely shunned the extravagant attractions and flair that made Luna Park and Dreamland worldwide sensations at their peaks. Instead, Steeplechase Park focused on comparatively simple group rides and slapstick activities that entailed significantly lower maintenance costs and that did not have to be revamped every season. Tilyou's park attracted families and groups of friends in the context of a safe-but-fun environment. Compared to Luna Park and Dreamland at their peaks, Steeplechase was a simple place. Yet, Tilyou's vision for Steeplechase Park ultimately triumphed by surviving decades of social and technological changes that transformed the amusement park industry.
A Coney Island institution for almost seven consecutive decades, Steeplechase Park was the longest-lived of the three great amusement parks at Coney Island. It predated both Luna Park and Dreamland by over five years and outlasted Luna Park, by then the only other remaining amusement park at Coney Island, by twenty years. Steeplechase's success is based on the principle of its founder, George Tilyou, that the secret to running a successful amusement park is actually quite simple: make people laugh and they will come back.
Steeplechase Park stood in stark contrast to Luna Park and Dreamland. Tilyou was undeniably the most sensible and business-savvy of the major amusement park owners, and was as able a marketer as Luna Park's Thompson. He operated Steeplechase Park under an entirely different business model aimed at driving sustainable profitability. Tilyou purposely shunned the extravagant attractions and flair that made Luna Park and Dreamland worldwide sensations at their peaks. Instead, Steeplechase Park focused on comparatively simple group rides and slapstick activities that entailed significantly lower maintenance costs and that did not have to be revamped every season. Tilyou's park attracted families and groups of friends in the context of a safe-but-fun environment. Compared to Luna Park and Dreamland at their peaks, Steeplechase was a simple place. Yet, Tilyou's vision for Steeplechase Park ultimately triumphed by surviving decades of social and technological changes that transformed the amusement park industry.
The Origin of Steeplechase Park and its Namesake Ride
George Tilyou, a longtime Coney Island entrepreneur, watched Captain Paul Boyton and his Sea Lion Park with great interest during the summer of 1895. If Boyton's innovative idea of charging admission to an enclosed park actually worked, Tilyou figured he might be able to do the same. After all, Tilyou's family had acquired all of the land from West 16th Street to West 19th Street, from Surf Avenue to the water, over the course of years when land in West Brighton was relatively inexpensive. Tilyou also was no stranger to amusement rides, having recently built Coney Island's first Ferris wheel next to the Iron Tower, and owning various profitable standalone rides and additional parcels of land leased to small businesses throughout West Brighton.
At first, Tilyou wondered why people would pay admission to enter an enclosed park. It actually seemed more restrictive than walking around the rest of bustling West Brighton, where people could pick-and-choose among the large number of pay-per-ride standalone amusements as they went. But Tilyou noticed that people actually went to Sea Lion Park. Why was this? Were crowds going only because Boyton was famous and they liked his aquatic stunts? Or was Boyton's patented Shoot the Chutes ride what drew them in? Or his aquatic animal acts? Tilyou mulled this over, because he knew that if he could reproduce the idea of an enclosed amusement park, it would revolutionize his amusement rides business.
Tilyou decided the idea could work, but only if he had a hit ride to compete with Boyton's Chutes. He'd also have to create an overall ambience of controlled fun in the park that individual rides couldn't reproduce on their own. Tilyou began scouring American and European carnivals and world's fairs looking for the next hit amusement ride, just like he had done to find his Ferris wheel. One idea from England struck him in particular. It was a gravity-powered ride in which people raced each other while riding wooden horses that glided along parallel metal tracks over a long and curving course. It checked all of Tilyou's boxes: unique, social, safe, family-friendly and immediately recognizable. After all, horse racing was the most popular national pastime and several nearby racetracks drew huge crowds to Coney Island. It was also something that groups could do together, giving it the same fun competitive dynamic that made racer coasters popular. This should be a hit, Tilyou thought to himself. He bought the rights to the ride and began designing his new park around it.
George Tilyou, a longtime Coney Island entrepreneur, watched Captain Paul Boyton and his Sea Lion Park with great interest during the summer of 1895. If Boyton's innovative idea of charging admission to an enclosed park actually worked, Tilyou figured he might be able to do the same. After all, Tilyou's family had acquired all of the land from West 16th Street to West 19th Street, from Surf Avenue to the water, over the course of years when land in West Brighton was relatively inexpensive. Tilyou also was no stranger to amusement rides, having recently built Coney Island's first Ferris wheel next to the Iron Tower, and owning various profitable standalone rides and additional parcels of land leased to small businesses throughout West Brighton.
At first, Tilyou wondered why people would pay admission to enter an enclosed park. It actually seemed more restrictive than walking around the rest of bustling West Brighton, where people could pick-and-choose among the large number of pay-per-ride standalone amusements as they went. But Tilyou noticed that people actually went to Sea Lion Park. Why was this? Were crowds going only because Boyton was famous and they liked his aquatic stunts? Or was Boyton's patented Shoot the Chutes ride what drew them in? Or his aquatic animal acts? Tilyou mulled this over, because he knew that if he could reproduce the idea of an enclosed amusement park, it would revolutionize his amusement rides business.
Tilyou decided the idea could work, but only if he had a hit ride to compete with Boyton's Chutes. He'd also have to create an overall ambience of controlled fun in the park that individual rides couldn't reproduce on their own. Tilyou began scouring American and European carnivals and world's fairs looking for the next hit amusement ride, just like he had done to find his Ferris wheel. One idea from England struck him in particular. It was a gravity-powered ride in which people raced each other while riding wooden horses that glided along parallel metal tracks over a long and curving course. It checked all of Tilyou's boxes: unique, social, safe, family-friendly and immediately recognizable. After all, horse racing was the most popular national pastime and several nearby racetracks drew huge crowds to Coney Island. It was also something that groups could do together, giving it the same fun competitive dynamic that made racer coasters popular. This should be a hit, Tilyou thought to himself. He bought the rights to the ride and began designing his new park around it.
Steeplechase Park opened for the 1897 season and was an immediate success. Tilyou's park was more than just a collection of rides. He had well-maintained gardens and benches and areas where families could picnic. Bands played. A funny character dressed in oversized costume of Abraham Lincoln might wander by and say hello, much the same way Disney operates its parks today. Tilyou even created the modern concept of the combination ticket for those who wanted some basic fun while spending the day in the park. The face of Tillie, a man with a huge grin and far too many teeth, came to symbolize Steeplechase. Families came for the clean fun and guarantee of a friendly atmosphere, which contrasted with the more saloon-like qualities of other areas of Coney Island in the 1890s.
Tilyou Encounters Thompson and Dundy
Tilyou remained as vigilant as ever for new rides that he could purchase or profit-share with at attractive terms in the years following Steeplechase Park's opening. In late 1901, Frederick Thompson and Skip Dundy came inquiring about moving their hit ride to Coney Island after its success at the New York (Buffalo) World's Fair of 1901. Tilyou jumped at the opportunity. He leased these two entrepreneurs space at his park for their "A Trip to the Moon" ride in exchange for 40% of its revenues.
The timing of Thompson and Dundy's arrival couldn't have been any better for Tilyou. Their incredibly popular indoor attraction allowed him to remain profitable during the incredibly rainy 1902 season, while his competitor Boyton threw in the towel at the all-outdoor Sea Lion Park after sustaining losses and failing to recoup his recent reinvestment into the park.
By some accounts, towards the end of the 1902 season, Thompson and Dundy met with Tilyou to negotiate their lease for the following season. Tilyou proposed a large increase in his share of the ride's economics, from 40% to 60%. Thompson and Dundy, taken aback, responded by rapidly raising enough money to buy out Boyton's remaining lease on the Sea Lion Park property to build their own rival amusement park. What makes this storyline exciting is the irony is that the world never would have had Luna Park had it not been for the unlikely combination of too much rain bankrupting an aquatic park and a very sensible businessman significantly raising the rent on the ride that saved his season. Some accounts even suggest, with the benefit of hindsight, that Tilyou negotiated this way on purpose, wanting Thompson and Dundy to build a rival park at Coney Island to give Coney Island the scale to compete with nearby beachside amusement resorts including Rockaway Beach's Playland, built in Queens in 1901.
The truth is that Thompson and Dundy appear to have had bigger plans when they came to Coney Island, as detailed in the Luna Park article. The idea that Tilyou wanted a competiting amusement park to open up is far-fetched because West Brighton already had plenty of independent rides that competed with Steeplechase and created scale. Most likely, Tilyou thought that the two upstarts lacked the funding to create a competitive standalone park and would remain small-time independent operators. Additionally, Tilyou would have viewed the Sea Lion Park tract as vastly inferior to Steeplechase's property because it lacked beach access and the adjacency to the bustling crowds of the Bowery, for whom Tilyou had even built a Bowery Entrance to Steeplechase. Tilyou figured that Thompson and Dundy would end up coming back to Steeplechase one way or another.
Tilyou remained as vigilant as ever for new rides that he could purchase or profit-share with at attractive terms in the years following Steeplechase Park's opening. In late 1901, Frederick Thompson and Skip Dundy came inquiring about moving their hit ride to Coney Island after its success at the New York (Buffalo) World's Fair of 1901. Tilyou jumped at the opportunity. He leased these two entrepreneurs space at his park for their "A Trip to the Moon" ride in exchange for 40% of its revenues.
The timing of Thompson and Dundy's arrival couldn't have been any better for Tilyou. Their incredibly popular indoor attraction allowed him to remain profitable during the incredibly rainy 1902 season, while his competitor Boyton threw in the towel at the all-outdoor Sea Lion Park after sustaining losses and failing to recoup his recent reinvestment into the park.
By some accounts, towards the end of the 1902 season, Thompson and Dundy met with Tilyou to negotiate their lease for the following season. Tilyou proposed a large increase in his share of the ride's economics, from 40% to 60%. Thompson and Dundy, taken aback, responded by rapidly raising enough money to buy out Boyton's remaining lease on the Sea Lion Park property to build their own rival amusement park. What makes this storyline exciting is the irony is that the world never would have had Luna Park had it not been for the unlikely combination of too much rain bankrupting an aquatic park and a very sensible businessman significantly raising the rent on the ride that saved his season. Some accounts even suggest, with the benefit of hindsight, that Tilyou negotiated this way on purpose, wanting Thompson and Dundy to build a rival park at Coney Island to give Coney Island the scale to compete with nearby beachside amusement resorts including Rockaway Beach's Playland, built in Queens in 1901.
The truth is that Thompson and Dundy appear to have had bigger plans when they came to Coney Island, as detailed in the Luna Park article. The idea that Tilyou wanted a competiting amusement park to open up is far-fetched because West Brighton already had plenty of independent rides that competed with Steeplechase and created scale. Most likely, Tilyou thought that the two upstarts lacked the funding to create a competitive standalone park and would remain small-time independent operators. Additionally, Tilyou would have viewed the Sea Lion Park tract as vastly inferior to Steeplechase's property because it lacked beach access and the adjacency to the bustling crowds of the Bowery, for whom Tilyou had even built a Bowery Entrance to Steeplechase. Tilyou figured that Thompson and Dundy would end up coming back to Steeplechase one way or another.
The Steeplechase Park Fire of 1907
Steeplechase did well for the next four seasons. The number of visitors it attracted increased as huge crowds were drawn to West Brighton to visit Luna Park and then Dreamland, which opened in 1903 and 1904, respectively. Tilyou even remained opened year-round the winter of 1904-5, in contrast to Luna Park and Dreamland, keeping the water in the pool heated through December.
On July 28, 1907, a Sunday in the middle of the high point of the season, a cigarette started a fire that burned down much of Steeplechase Park. The fire spread east of Steeplechase's grounds and into the Bowery area, razing Kensington Walk and proceeding as far as Schweickert's Walk, taking dozens of hotels and surrounding businesses with it. Hearing the news, a crowd estimated at 300,000 made its way to West Brighton on its one day off in the era of a six-day workweek to see the smoldering remains of Steeplechase. Entrepreneurs took pictures and quickly printed postcards, many of which are postmarked even within two weeks of the fire. The destruction initially was reported by newspapers to total $1 million, in 1907 dollars, which liked to embellish official figures to make catastrophes seem more exciting. Tilyou later said that for Steeplechase it was closer to $200,000, still a huge sum given that Luna Park reportedly cost around $600,000 to build from scratch.
Steeplechase did well for the next four seasons. The number of visitors it attracted increased as huge crowds were drawn to West Brighton to visit Luna Park and then Dreamland, which opened in 1903 and 1904, respectively. Tilyou even remained opened year-round the winter of 1904-5, in contrast to Luna Park and Dreamland, keeping the water in the pool heated through December.
On July 28, 1907, a Sunday in the middle of the high point of the season, a cigarette started a fire that burned down much of Steeplechase Park. The fire spread east of Steeplechase's grounds and into the Bowery area, razing Kensington Walk and proceeding as far as Schweickert's Walk, taking dozens of hotels and surrounding businesses with it. Hearing the news, a crowd estimated at 300,000 made its way to West Brighton on its one day off in the era of a six-day workweek to see the smoldering remains of Steeplechase. Entrepreneurs took pictures and quickly printed postcards, many of which are postmarked even within two weeks of the fire. The destruction initially was reported by newspapers to total $1 million, in 1907 dollars, which liked to embellish official figures to make catastrophes seem more exciting. Tilyou later said that for Steeplechase it was closer to $200,000, still a huge sum given that Luna Park reportedly cost around $600,000 to build from scratch.
Fires were commonplace at the time and were viewed as an unfortunate cost of doing business by businessmen and as free entertainment by the general populace. Word rapidly spread through the crowd that a sideshow performed named Francesco had been the first to flee the scene at the sound of the fire alarm, much to his discredit as a fire breather. The most popular story, however, centered on San Dora, who lived at Steeplechase Park as part of a freak show. San Dora's particular skill was eating continuously throughout the day, taking on as many as twelve consecutive meals, to show amazed spectators how a person with no arms and no legs could nonetheless enjoy dining. As the flames approached, San Dora was placed in a large basket and carried out to the great satisfaction of the crowd, to whom he cheekily remarked that his escape had been effected without the loss of 'life or limb'.
Tilyou, on the other hand, reportedly went about his day as if it were business as usual, a point his public relations staff emphasized to the press. He was heralded by the Brooklyn Daily Eagle newspaper for not missing the church service he and his family attended regularly every Sunday morning, calmly leaving the evolving scene of destruction while the fire was still spreading to attend the full mass. Always an astute businessman, Tilyou also took the opportunity to make the following statement just two days later, even joking about the fire:
"I intend to offer more real enjoyment to my public this season in the five acres unmolested [note: of approximately 15 acres total] by the fire than was presented before the catastrophe of Sunday morning. We have been scorched a little, but Steeplechase still has twenty-five attractions for twenty-five cents. Our tremendous swimming pool must be sacrificed and, after all, our big beautiful beach will afford ample opportunity for those of our patrons who are fond of aquatic sports. In the center of the space formerly occupied by the swimming pool a new human roulette wheel is in process of construction and the great tier-upon-tier balcony which surrounded the pool will afford a much more adequate viewpoint for those who delight in watching the ludicrous workings of this latest invention of mine. I have an army of 500 laborers at work, and by Saturday I expect to be in the position to have a reopening of the pleasure place. We will have a glorious display of fireworks, but not on the order of the pyrotechnic display of Sunday morning last. Most of the best features of Steeplechase still remain, and I desire to correct the idea... that Steeplechase has been wiped off the map. I am very much open for business."
For those not gullible enough to be tricked into paying twenty-five cents for whatever makeshift twenty-five rides Tilyou had in mind, Tilyou charged a dime for access to the smoldering ruins while the park was being rebuilt. This undoubtedly drew the same type of Coney Island crowd that paid to see reenactments of devastating floods, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions.
Tilyou, on the other hand, reportedly went about his day as if it were business as usual, a point his public relations staff emphasized to the press. He was heralded by the Brooklyn Daily Eagle newspaper for not missing the church service he and his family attended regularly every Sunday morning, calmly leaving the evolving scene of destruction while the fire was still spreading to attend the full mass. Always an astute businessman, Tilyou also took the opportunity to make the following statement just two days later, even joking about the fire:
"I intend to offer more real enjoyment to my public this season in the five acres unmolested [note: of approximately 15 acres total] by the fire than was presented before the catastrophe of Sunday morning. We have been scorched a little, but Steeplechase still has twenty-five attractions for twenty-five cents. Our tremendous swimming pool must be sacrificed and, after all, our big beautiful beach will afford ample opportunity for those of our patrons who are fond of aquatic sports. In the center of the space formerly occupied by the swimming pool a new human roulette wheel is in process of construction and the great tier-upon-tier balcony which surrounded the pool will afford a much more adequate viewpoint for those who delight in watching the ludicrous workings of this latest invention of mine. I have an army of 500 laborers at work, and by Saturday I expect to be in the position to have a reopening of the pleasure place. We will have a glorious display of fireworks, but not on the order of the pyrotechnic display of Sunday morning last. Most of the best features of Steeplechase still remain, and I desire to correct the idea... that Steeplechase has been wiped off the map. I am very much open for business."
For those not gullible enough to be tricked into paying twenty-five cents for whatever makeshift twenty-five rides Tilyou had in mind, Tilyou charged a dime for access to the smoldering ruins while the park was being rebuilt. This undoubtedly drew the same type of Coney Island crowd that paid to see reenactments of devastating floods, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions.
New Steeplechase and the Pavilion of Fun
By the start of the 1908 season, Tilyou's army of workers had rebuilt all of Steeplechase Park into 'New Steeplechase'. Tilyou used the opportunity to improve the park in many small ways, including adding two additional tracks to the Steeplechase ride.
The most significant improvement was in creating a new centerpiece for the park, a massive building called the Pavilion of Fun, which housed an indoor amusement park. The 1903 season, like the 1902 season, had been fairly rainy. Tilyou saw an opportunity to improve business by avoiding the whims of the elements during the short spring and summer seasons during which he had to make enough money to justify year-round costs. Originally proposed as an extravagant Palace of Pleasure, the financial Panic of 1907 in October of that year caused Tilyou to scale down his grand ambitions into the more manageable Pavilion of Fun. This pioneering move allowed Tilyou to attract customers regardless of weather, especially those of neighboring Luna Park and Dreamland, where patrons had to walk outside to get from ride to ride. It also dovetailed with Tilyou's combination ticket strategy, detailed in the Addendum below.
By the start of the 1908 season, Tilyou's army of workers had rebuilt all of Steeplechase Park into 'New Steeplechase'. Tilyou used the opportunity to improve the park in many small ways, including adding two additional tracks to the Steeplechase ride.
The most significant improvement was in creating a new centerpiece for the park, a massive building called the Pavilion of Fun, which housed an indoor amusement park. The 1903 season, like the 1902 season, had been fairly rainy. Tilyou saw an opportunity to improve business by avoiding the whims of the elements during the short spring and summer seasons during which he had to make enough money to justify year-round costs. Originally proposed as an extravagant Palace of Pleasure, the financial Panic of 1907 in October of that year caused Tilyou to scale down his grand ambitions into the more manageable Pavilion of Fun. This pioneering move allowed Tilyou to attract customers regardless of weather, especially those of neighboring Luna Park and Dreamland, where patrons had to walk outside to get from ride to ride. It also dovetailed with Tilyou's combination ticket strategy, detailed in the Addendum below.
The End of an Era
The Pavilion of Fun played a significant role in helping to make Steeplechase Park the longest surviving of Coney Island's great amusement parks. The Pavilion of Fun survived to the day that Steeplechase finally closed its doors in 1964. George Tilyou's timeless recipe for making people laugh continued to draw crowds even then. It was only when crime in New York City and its subways made it difficult for people to get to the park that the Tilyou family made the difficult decision to close. Subsequently, Fred Trump purchased the site and tore down Steeplechase in an unsuccessful attempt to develop condos on the site. Today, the Brooklyn Cyclone's baseball stadium sits on the site of Steeplechase Park.
Next: Luna Park
Prior: Sea Lion Park
Return to Coney Island History Homepage
The Pavilion of Fun played a significant role in helping to make Steeplechase Park the longest surviving of Coney Island's great amusement parks. The Pavilion of Fun survived to the day that Steeplechase finally closed its doors in 1964. George Tilyou's timeless recipe for making people laugh continued to draw crowds even then. It was only when crime in New York City and its subways made it difficult for people to get to the park that the Tilyou family made the difficult decision to close. Subsequently, Fred Trump purchased the site and tore down Steeplechase in an unsuccessful attempt to develop condos on the site. Today, the Brooklyn Cyclone's baseball stadium sits on the site of Steeplechase Park.
Next: Luna Park
Prior: Sea Lion Park
Return to Coney Island History Homepage
Addendum: Steeplechase Park Pavilion of Fun (1908-1964)
This black and white advertising card might at first seem like a boring list of rides, but it actually tells the story of Steeplechase.
Tilyou infused Steeplechase Park with a character that fundamentally differed from that of Luna Park or Dreamland. This character manifested itself through the concept of a combination ticket, where 25 cents bought access to 25 basic rides. While we can date this advertising card to around 1915 based on the rides and printer, Tilyou offered a similar combination ticket at the same price even before the original Steeplechase burned in 1907. Why was Tilyou offering a very economical 25-ride combination ticket while his competition was charging at least 10 cents or more for most individual attractions or rides? Thompson and Dundy of Luna Park approached the amusement industry from the viewpoint that the spectacle entertained the person. Reynolds of Dreamland did this as well by default, as he simply copied whatever Luna Park did. That's why they charged per ride, hoped for hit attractions, and needed to reinvest large sums each season into new attractions, to keep things fresh and drive customer traffic. Thompson's and Dundy's approach was a product of their history and of what had made the successful. Even before knowing each other, they created and operated individual attractions that competed with other individual attractions at large fairs. And it was one hit ride, A Trip to the Moon, that subsequently gave them the freedom and ability to approach investors to open Luna Park. Tilyou approached the amusement industry from the viewpoint that people entertained other people. While the individual rides on his combination ticket were not spectacular, many of them placed people in communal situations where spontaneous, silly slapstick humor could occur in a funhouse environment. The key was that the other riders and their reactions would be different every time you rode, keeping the experience fresh. The attractions, as simple as they might have been, never got old. Economically, this also meant the rides could be inexpensive and never had to be replaced, completely different than Luna Park's more hit-driven business model. At Steeplechase, you might see the person in front of you (accidentally) fall onto their date in the Barrel of Fun, the now-classic cylinder that rotates as you try to walk through it; you might team up with someone to win king of the hill on the Human Roulette (pictured above), where a group of roughly fifty people would sit in the center and try not to get spun to the outside as the disk rotated faster and faster; or you might ride the Down and Out and then laugh as your friends came out after you, all dizzy from going round and round in a coiled metal loop that was 60 feet tall. The other traditional rides listed in this advertisement, like the Ferris wheel and trolley, fostered the family-oriented and clean fun environment that Tilyou wanted. For just 25 cents per person, an entire family could spend the day at Steeplechase, picnicking and walking through the gardens. Of course, they'd also likely end up splurging on a few of Steeplechase's carnival games or other rides not included in the combination ticket. Regarding the Pavilion of Fun advertising card shown at the right, note how he heavily Tilyou advertises the structure's safety features as a result of constant fires back then. |