Madmallard
.223 Rem
JAMESTOWN, N.Y. — This is not really a funny place.
Perched in the westernmost county in New York, within heckling distance of Ohio, Jamestown has been leaking population for years as many of its furniture factories flopped and textile mills tanked. With a median household income around $31,000 and the poverty level hovering at 29 percent, the city’s major claim to fame comes from someone who grew up here, left, and never really looked back: Lucille Ball, the comic doyenne who knew a joke when she saw one.
For the last couple of decades, Jamestown has scraped out a modest tourist trade off of Lucy’s legacy, with a nostalgic museum and an annual comedy festival in her name and honor that temporarily turns the small city — about 30,000 people — into a big deal, drawing comedians like Jerry Seinfeld, Jay Leno and Lewis Black. But just as quickly as the laughter fades, so do the crowds.
Now, in a multimillion-dollar gamble that will test the power of giggles versus geography, the State of New York has invested nearly $10 million in the hopes that it can turn Jamestown — which has no comedy clubs, no velvet ropes and no two-drink minimum — into an A-list tourist destination and a prime example of civic pluck triumphing over chronic malaise.
The draw? A $50 million museum and yuk-yuk Hall of Fame known as the National Comedy Center, featuring an array of artifacts and high-tech exhibits, including — no kidding — holograms of comedians, both dead and alive.
“I believe this is going to be a national attraction,” Gov. Andrew M. Cuomo said during a stop here in early August to announce a promotional package for the center, predicting scores of jobs and millions of dollars for the local economy. “You are already hitting it out of the park.”
That may be a wee exaggeration at this point: With opening night still almost a year away, the comedy center has thus far been all setup, no payoff. Ground was first broken here, next to a rehabilitated railroad station along the Chadakoin River, in August 2015. At that point, the state — through the Empire State Development Corporation, its development arm — had already invested $1.5 million in the center.
In December 2015, New York announced more than $2 million in funding. In 2016, the state granted $834,000 to the center, including money for a hologram projection system. Finally, in January, the grand finale: a $5 million grant, announced by Mr. Cuomo during his State of the State address to close the gap in funding for the project.
That money was part of the Buffalo Billion, the governor’s signature upstate economic development project, which has drawn critics and the attention of federal investigators; last fall, the United States attorney in Manhattan announced federal corruption charges against nine individuals associated with various projects around the state, including Mr. Cuomo’s longtime political enforcer, Joseph Percoco, who is to face trial in January. That scrutiny has not fazed Mr. Cuomo, who has doubled down on the Buffalo project, putting an additional $500 million toward its second phase.
Heard the One About Jamestown? State Bets Comedy Can Spark a Revival
Perched in the westernmost county in New York, within heckling distance of Ohio, Jamestown has been leaking population for years as many of its furniture factories flopped and textile mills tanked. With a median household income around $31,000 and the poverty level hovering at 29 percent, the city’s major claim to fame comes from someone who grew up here, left, and never really looked back: Lucille Ball, the comic doyenne who knew a joke when she saw one.
For the last couple of decades, Jamestown has scraped out a modest tourist trade off of Lucy’s legacy, with a nostalgic museum and an annual comedy festival in her name and honor that temporarily turns the small city — about 30,000 people — into a big deal, drawing comedians like Jerry Seinfeld, Jay Leno and Lewis Black. But just as quickly as the laughter fades, so do the crowds.
Now, in a multimillion-dollar gamble that will test the power of giggles versus geography, the State of New York has invested nearly $10 million in the hopes that it can turn Jamestown — which has no comedy clubs, no velvet ropes and no two-drink minimum — into an A-list tourist destination and a prime example of civic pluck triumphing over chronic malaise.
The draw? A $50 million museum and yuk-yuk Hall of Fame known as the National Comedy Center, featuring an array of artifacts and high-tech exhibits, including — no kidding — holograms of comedians, both dead and alive.
“I believe this is going to be a national attraction,” Gov. Andrew M. Cuomo said during a stop here in early August to announce a promotional package for the center, predicting scores of jobs and millions of dollars for the local economy. “You are already hitting it out of the park.”
That may be a wee exaggeration at this point: With opening night still almost a year away, the comedy center has thus far been all setup, no payoff. Ground was first broken here, next to a rehabilitated railroad station along the Chadakoin River, in August 2015. At that point, the state — through the Empire State Development Corporation, its development arm — had already invested $1.5 million in the center.
In December 2015, New York announced more than $2 million in funding. In 2016, the state granted $834,000 to the center, including money for a hologram projection system. Finally, in January, the grand finale: a $5 million grant, announced by Mr. Cuomo during his State of the State address to close the gap in funding for the project.
That money was part of the Buffalo Billion, the governor’s signature upstate economic development project, which has drawn critics and the attention of federal investigators; last fall, the United States attorney in Manhattan announced federal corruption charges against nine individuals associated with various projects around the state, including Mr. Cuomo’s longtime political enforcer, Joseph Percoco, who is to face trial in January. That scrutiny has not fazed Mr. Cuomo, who has doubled down on the Buffalo project, putting an additional $500 million toward its second phase.
Heard the One About Jamestown? State Bets Comedy Can Spark a Revival
