Greg O’Connell died in his home on Saturday, Aug. 2, leaving behind a long legacy as a real estate and community developer in Red Hook.
When O’Connell first began investing in Red Hook in the 1970s, it was a largely desolate neighborhood—especially the waterfront—but he had a vision, said Greg T. O’Connell, who in September spoke to the Red Hook Star-Revue at length following his father’s passing.
“The idea of new buildings, no one could have ever imagined that. And he didn’t set out to end it in a certain way; he was doing what he could with what he had,” O’Connell said of his father. “When he took over these buildings, he wanted to bring business and activity back to the neighborhood.”
Over the years, his father shifted in his view of what real estate development could look like. Red Hook had long been an industry-heavy area, and O’Connell Sr.’s focus was on business and light manufacturing. In the early 2000s he began to blur the lines between commercial and residential.
“He eventually became more of a mixed-use ideologue,” O’Connell, Jr. said. He is quick to point out, though, that his father was “vehemently against” the vision plan for the Brooklyn Marine Terminal Redevelopment. (When O’Connell Sr. spoke to the Star-Revue for our anniversary issue in June, he said the plan is “too suffocating” and cautioned against large developments happening before there is sufficient infrastructure in place to support them.)
A diversity of land use
“He really believed in community over the idea of a single use for a neighborhood. He believed that people could work, live, and raise their kids in the same neighborhood within steps from one another. They could have blue-collar and skilled jobs in the same neighborhood. And that’s what his life’s work became, at least in this part of Brooklyn,” O’Connell, Jr. said.
O’Connell, Sr., called himself a community developer. That spirit came naturally to him, his son explained. Working as a cop and a teacher, he saw how face-to-face interactions could improve people’s lives. The community was also a sounding board, guiding and helping him develop the neighborhood.
“It was a mutual benefit, when he had said he was a community developer. He really benefited from the community, helping him grow as a professional. He learned from them and in return, they received someone who was responsive to them, who would talk face-to-face, who would listen,” O’Connell, Jr. said.
As a child, the two often rode around on the weekends as his father visited his properties. Or rather, his dad “dragged” him to work, O’Connell said. “As a six-year-old, you don’t want to go in a filthy pickup truck at 7 am on a Saturday to a place that has no people, and then he puts you with his employees, who were mostly ex-cons.”
He remembers some of his father’s workers, mainly through the nicknames Greg, Sr. used to give them, including Pasta, a chubby man who worked for the O’Connell organization for 20 years, and Dreadlock George—who O’Connell, Jr. later learned was a former Black Panther—whose job was often to clean bricks.
During the visits, Pasta, Dreadlock George, and their coworkers unofficially took on the role of babysitters while O’Connell, Sr. worked, with Greg, Jr.’s mother none the wiser. “I couldn’t figure out how my mom could let him get away with this,” O’Connell said, until he told her three years later, only to learn she had no idea about her husband’s scheme.
“Those experiences—I hated them at the time because no kid wants to be doing that, but now that I look back, those are some of my most vivid memories,” O’Connell said.
His father was a chronic workaholic, waking up and going to work at five in the morning seven days a week for much of working life. Yet, he found time for his children throughout their childhood and into adulthood.
“I’m sure he could have spent more time with me, but he was there for every single game that I had, every single practice. He didn’t miss one,” O’Connell said.
He explained that even though he “was not a great kid,” no matter how much he screwed up, his dad continued to believe that everything would be okay. Even as a young adult, when he was having personal issues, his dad stuck by him.
A good father
“It shows how a father can almost will you into becoming a decent person if they’re hands-on enough,” Greg, Jr. said. “He was a fantastic father. I am where I am because of him.”
While O’Connell, Jr. has been in charge of the business for some years, his father has remained involved (sometimes a little too involved, perhaps, Greg, Jr. noted, calling him a “professional nag”). And over the many years they worked together, he imparted his values to his son.
“It’s impossible for anyone to be like him, with that breadth and that type of versatility and ability to go from one thing to another,” O’Connell said. “What I’m going to try to do is espouse his values and what he taught me, and steward what he built into the next generation. Because it turns out, I really love this, and I love these buildings, and I really want continuity in what he built, and I want to protect these properties. I want to grow where we can grow but at the same time, stay true to ourselves and stay true to the legacy that he set up.”
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