Nipper, Albany’s unofficial mascot, gazes across the warehouse district on Feb. 25 above 991 Broadway in Albany. The city has affixed a single-slash placard on the building that alerts emergency workers to use “extreme caution” when entering.
Will Waldron/Times Union
Paint flakes away from the RCA building at 991 Broadway on March 25 in Albany. The city has affixed a single-slash placard on the building that alerts emergency workers to use “extreme caution” when entering.
Will Waldron/Times Union
The city has affixed a single-slash placard on the Albany building that alerts emergency workers to use “extreme caution” when entering.
Will Waldron/Times Union
Paint flakes away from the RCA building at 991 Broadway on March 25 in Albany.
Will Waldron/Times Union
Nipper, Albany’s unofficial mascot, gazes across the warehouse district on Feb. 25 above 991 Broadway in Albany.
Will Waldron/Times Union
Nipper, Albany’s unofficial mascot, gazes across the warehouse district on Feb. 25 above 991 Broadway in Albany.
Will Waldron/Times Union
Paint flakes away from the RCA building at 991 Broadway on March 25 in Albany. The city has affixed a single-slash placard on the building that alerts emergency workers to use “extreme caution” when entering.
Will Waldron/Times Union
Nipper has looked down on his city for decades, his head cocked with curiosity. But is Albany doing enough to look after the dog?
That question occurred to me after learning that 991 Broadway — the North Albany building on which Nipper sits — has joined the legion of vacant structures affixed with a Red Placard of Doom.
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That isn’t what they’re officially called, of course. But the name seems appropriate, because often when a placard is attached to a building, it’s headed toward demolition. Nipper’s home was recently affixed with a single-slash placard that, while less worrying than a placard with a full X, nevertheless alerts emergency workers to use “extreme caution” when entering.
The placard shouldn’t have been a shock. Constructed in 1907, the building has been in legal limbo for years and a plan to remake it with apartments fell through. Public concern over its condition and future led the Historic Albany Foundation to add the structure to its 2024 list of “Places in Peril.”
Albany has had a rough few years, but this much should be obvious: If Nipper falls to neglect and disinvestment, it will be a blow like few others to the city’s reputation, pride and identity. He’s the city’s beloved pooch, its mascot and arguably its best-known landmark. Nipper contributes mightily to the region’s sense of place.
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Even cat people would be dismayed by his loss. But what can be done to protect him?
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Well, the good news is that Nipper and his building are part of a new Industrial and Warehouse Historic District that was approved in March by the state’s historic preservation review board. The long-proposed district makes 991 Broadway and other buildings eligible for federal tax credits that presumably make it more financially feasible to rehab them.
The protection for Nipper, though, is limited. While the district means an owner couldn’t use state or federal funds to harm the big pooch or his building, it doesn’t stop privately funded changes or, gulp, removal.
The city of Albany, though, could offer stronger protection by adding Nipper’s building — or perhaps the statue alone — to its own list of historic properties and landmarks.
“Local listing could be very meaningful,” said Cari Macri, director of preservation services at the Historic Albany Foundation, adding that a landmark designation from the city would require that changes to Nipper or the building go before the Historic Resources Commission for approval.
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It’s actually remarkable that Nipper doesn’t already have local protection, given his symbolic value and popularity. The RCA mascot, made of fiberglass, was shipped from Chicago and assembled atop the building in 1958 at the suggestion of architect Harris Sanders, who died 60 years later.
His son, Daniel Sanders, also an Albany architect, fully supports giving Nipper historic protection status, for an obvious reason: The dog is an icon, he said.
He’s also a good boy. Aren’t you, Nipper? Yes, you are.
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Any owner of 991 Broadway has a financial incentive to keep Nipper in place, given how the statue adds financial value and singularity. If you say you own the Nipper building, everyone knows just where you mean. Remove the pooch, and you’re left with a relatively unremarkable warehouse.
The Lofts at Nipper? I’ll sign the lease!
The Lofts at 991 Broadway? Yawn.
To be clear, there’s nothing to suggest that Nipper is being poorly treated. While nobody ever seems to take the pooch for a walk, his coat appears clean and healthy, at least from a distance. His nose is shiny and black.
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But the danger, given the building’s lingering limbo, is an eventual lack of maintenance and the dreaded demolition by neglect.
Again, local historic protection for 991 Broadway would do nothing to force an owner to keep up Nipper’s appearance. It would only require approval for changes or removal.
But the designation would show that the region cares about Nipper and expects that he’ll be cared for. It would show that Albany respects its quirks and understands that eccentricities help make a city lovable. It would demonstrate pride of place, which, if you don’t mind my saying, we could use more of around here.
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Lose Nipper, and 991 Broadway becomes just another warehouse. Lose Nipper, and Albany becomes a less-interesting city.
Isn’t that right, Nipper? Who’s my good boy?