Pedestrian 18: Walking the Largest Mall in Long Island
Featuring the Mall Stars, Amelia Earhart, and a Wendy’s Chicken Sandwich.
Hello from the Big Apple. It’s me, Alex Wolfe, back in the saddle and this is another round of Pedestrian: a newsletter about walking and our everyday surroundings. Thank you Julia and Julian for making this week’s newsletter possible.
Last week I went to the mall.
Not just any mall, but the largest mall in all of Long Island – the Roosevelt Field Mall – where I spent an afternoon walking up and down its long, air conditioned corridors.
Before someone writes wondering what the hell has happened to this newsletter, please let me explain:
I chose to visit the mall! Not because it was an exceptionally hot day (it was 95º F after all), but I’d come to a conclusion while spending the last three months in Des Moines: the indoor shopping mall is likely the closest thing one can feel to walking the bustling streets of a densely populated city without visiting a city.
If you think about it, walking the mall (much like any major walkable U.S. city) is to be bombarded with an array of information. A typical mall-goer can peruse tens if not hundreds of shops, grab a bite to eat, sit among some “nature” (I’m talking about planters or indoor trees, like those seen at the Brookfield Place Mall in Lower Manhattan), and be around lots and lots of people.
However, instead of overpaying for water or “holding it” due to a severe lack of public restrooms, the mall has free water fountains, access to many, many public restrooms, surfaces are level, and plenty of places to rest. Could it be the mall is actually a walker’s paradise?
According to a 2015 report released by the CDC, shopping malls are the second most popular venue for walking in the country, just behind neighborhoods. For those living in the suburbs, cities without a substantial population density, and places without robust pedestrian activity, the mall is often the only place where people gather in large quantities and walk around. And in some malls, there are even groups dedicated to walking the facilities, like the “Mall Stars” seen traversing the Mall of America in Minnesota.
Mall walking prevalence is no coincidence. A handful of environmental factors prevent residents from walking their own neighborhoods, such as poor street layout, deteriorating sidewalk conditions, proximity of desirable destinations, perceived safety from traffic, and crime. For some, mall walking is considered a safe, comfortable alternative.
I understand the mall is not for everyone. As much as I have learned to detest it and the consumerism it promotes, there is a side of me that is absolutely infatuated with its inner workings. It’s an understatement to call the mall a spectacle. It’s a well-curated reflection of the late capitalist society we inhabit. It is the aftermath of a car accident that you cannot stop looking at.
Could walking the mall also be a form of protest? The purpose of pretty much all shopping malls since their inception is to bleed as much money as possible from the wallets of every single visitor. At the Mall of America, for example, tourists reportedly spend an average of $162 per visit. Mall walkers rarely buy anything, except maybe a “cup of coffee and a sticky bun at the food court,” according to Emil Pocock, a professor emeritus at Eastern Connecticut State University who studies shopping-mall culture.
And for the overly enthusiastic, safety-oriented pedestrian, the mall might even be better than walking around the city. *spits out coffee* That can’t be true, can it?
There was only one way to find out.
To get to Roosevelt Field, I took the subway to Grand Central Station, transferred to the Long Island Railroad, and got off in Hempstead an hour later. There I caught a bus to Garden City, and after a twenty minute ride, was dropped off outside a large parking garage that led to the mall entrance.
Intuitively, I decided to take the stairs to the highest level to get the lay of the land. I was exposed to a radiant cement field divided up into parking spaces by thick white lines. From the edge I scanned the sea of cars below. A pristine white Macy’s building towered in the distance. Behind me, a Nordstrom. How was all this land used before the big box stores moved in?
A quick Google search revealed the Roosevelt Field Mall actually gets its name from Roosevelt Airfield, an airport once occupying the same grounds in the early 20th century. Initially a training field for the Air Service of the US Army during World War I, it later served as the take off point for Amelia Earhart and even Charles Lindbergh's 1927 solo transatlantic flight. After World War II, the airfield became a commercial airport, was eventually sold to developers, and converted into a mall in 1956. I.M. Pei actually designed the building, but it has since been renovated beyond recognition. Go figure.
Walk inside and you’ll soon discover any attempts to preserve the airfield's history have since been decimated. Although the interior felt eerily similar to Chicago’s O’Hare airport, I’d argue it was coincidental. I could have been in Anywhere, America for all I knew if it weren’t for the signs that read something like “NEW YORK TOUGH,” which tethered me to some regional distinction. All the typical mall heavy hitters were present: the Apple Store, Build-A-Bear Workshop, Spencer’s Gifts, Lids, and of course Auntie Anne’s Pretzels. Perplexed, I gave myself a moment to walk around before getting to work.
Gentle rays of sunshine illuminated the ground before me thanks to the beautiful atrium overhead. Despite the heat outside, I could reap the benefits of a gorgeous day while comfortably walking in 72º air conditioning. For a Wednesday afternoon the mall bolstered a healthy amount of shoppers, but wasn’t overly crowded.
The mall signage branding reminded me of the Whitney Museum of American Art, which instinctively made me feel as though I was walking the halls of a museum, except admission wasn’t outrageously expensive (can you imagine paying to go to a mall?) and the artwork on display insisted I visit the food court on the upper level or purchase a giftcard to “give the gift of shopping.”
Given the presence of shoppers, I felt almost perverse snapping photos of the sights around me. Each time something caught my eye I removed my lens cap and quickly press the shutter button of my camera to avoid detection. As I passed store after store, I imagined a security guard slowly tracking my every move, and at any moment, would ask me to leave.
When walking, I typically have a destination in mind, such as making the journey to a beloved restaurant, however today I was already at my destination. I had nothing but time to kill. I set an alarm for 3:30pm, which would remind me I needed to catch the train back to the city.
To make matters worse, it is incredibly difficult to feel as if you’re covering lots of ground when traversing the mall. Without streets to cross, there is no real sense of progression. From one side of the mall to another I’d see the same people and the same shops over and over again. Occasionally I’d opt to take the escalator and transfer to the lower level or burn a lap in the “dining district,” which is a fancy name for your classic mall food court. I checked Strava only to find it was malfunctioning. I guess something about walking the mall was confusing the software. Had I really walked just a mile in the last hour?
I sat down to collect myself. I was already feeling the ill effects that one typically feels after spending too much time inside the mall. Exhausted, I watched shoppers. Some walked in groups and conversed among themselves while others moved alone. With shopping bags in hand, they looked unquestionably natural. Without a bag, I felt completely out of place. Especially considering I wore the same exact outfit I wore during my 180 mile walk to Philadelphia: running shorts, a quick-dry athletic shirt, a camera prominently displayed around my neck, and despite being indoors, a sun hat. I felt suspicious and contemplated buying a pair of Croc’s from Macy’s just to have a shopping bag to carry. It’s a miracle they didn’t have my size. I opted for a coffee instead and walked to the lower level.
There I found an uncharacteristically empty USPS post office across from a men’s restroom and a drinking fountain. As I filled my bottle with free water, I briefly locked eyes with a lone postal worker standing outside the entrance. I pulled my camera out to snap a photo (it’s what I would have done if I was in the city afterall), but his eyes quickly dropped to the ground as he scanned the floor tiles, only to bring them back up to watch as shoppers move back and forth along the corridor. He looked overly eager to help a customer. It’s too bad I didn’t have a package to ship or stamps to buy. It would have been the quickest post office visit of my life.
Instead I chose to visit Neiman Marcus where I was greeted by a “style advisor,” and given a free sample of cologne. I contemplated saving it as a souvenir from my visit, but the smell was too overbearing and would likely seep into everything I owned. I didn’t want to be that guy who wears too much cologne while riding the train back to the city. Awkward.
I made a few more quick laps around the facilities and spotted three or four older gentlemen comfortably passed out in mall furniture. I don’t know why I was so concerned about walking around the mall aimlessly. These guys had likely slept unbothered for eternity, that is until a group of middle schoolers started shouting “penis” at the top of their lungs. I watched as they laughed uncontrollably, which I interpreted as my cue to leave. I’d had enough of the mall today. It was time to catch the train back home. Before leaving, I stopped at Wendy’s where I ordered a chicken sandwich and risked missing my train.
Side note: while I didn’t miss the train, I did end up traversing the hottest parking lot known to man (with half of a chicken sandwich in my hand) to catch the bus back to the train. Rough.
I left Roosevelt Field Mall with one more profound conclusion: I won’t take the train out to Long Island just to walk the corridors of the mall anytime soon. I don’t care about the free water or abundance of public restrooms or the post office without a long wait. Nothing beats walking around the city.
See you next time,
–Alex
Brooklyn, NY
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