In the early 1980s, Hilary Tann was walking her dog in Schenectady’s Central Park when she noticed the remnants of a geological treasure: a pyramid chronicling the history of the area's rocks.
Originally intended as a Boy Scout memorial, the pyramid was built in 1934 as part of a Public Works Administration project in the city park, off Fehr Avenue near Oregon Avenue. It was designed by E.W. Allen with the assistance of E.S.C. Smith, a longtime geology professor at Union.
Standing 10 feet high and measuring 10 square feet at its base, the pyramid was arranged in 14 layers. The top denoted the youngest (Mohawk conglomerate from the Pleistocene era), and the bottom represented the oldest (Pre-Cambrian gneiss, schist and quartzite).
When Tann discovered the pyramid, age, vandals and neglect had taken its toll. Pieces of the pyramid were missing and the surrounding area was unkempt.
“There were cigarette butts and empty beer cans everywhere,” said Tann, the John Howard Payne Professor of Music.
At the time, Tann was a relatively new faculty member who didn’t want to rock the boat. Still, she approached Frank Griggs, the chairman of the Department of Civil Engineering, at a cocktail party after convocation.
“I really think you should do something about this pyramid,” she told Griggs.
Griggs took it from there, convincing city officials to allow students to disassemble the pyramid and move it to campus. With a boost from Psi Upsilon, who donated $1,000 toward the project, the pyramid was completely rebuilt by the spring of 1984 near the Whipple Bridge by Achilles Rink. The group even buried a time capsule in the top of the structure, though Griggs isn’t quite sure what’s inside.
With no detailed marker to explain its significance, the pyramid has been pushed into the shadows of campus life. But Griggs remains hopeful the monument will assume a higher profile.
“I’d like to see it cleaned up and maintained, and have something to tell people what it is,” he said. “Otherwise, it’s just a pile of rocks.”
Interest in the pyramid is building again, after a man who remembered it as a youngster in Central Park wrote a letter to the local newspaper asking about its whereabouts.
That excites Tann, a “closet geologist” who has “loved rocks all my life.” That passion is captured in some of her musical pieces, like “Here, the Cliffs” and a three-movement piece, “Sarsen,” which is a rock that stands alone.
“To think, this all came about because Frank Griggs listened to a short Welsh woman who writes 'rock music.'”