Newspapers around the country carried the story, but it wasn't big news everywhere. "Arsenic and Old Lace" had just opened on Broadway, a prominent admiral had warned that Pearl Harbor was vulnerable to attack, and Joe Louis was about to defend his heavyweight title against Red Burman. The country had bigger things to consider in January of 1941.
"The Hudson River has lost its most famous institution — the 'Albany Night Boat,' '' began The Associated Press account, datelined New York City. "No longer will the line make its celebrated overnight run between here and Albany with as many as 2,000 passengers — mostly young couples — on weekend trips."
It was the end of an era in which many great steamships — "floating palaces," in one account, with hundreds of staterooms, grand ballrooms and lounges — had rolled up and down the river, offering an overnight escape from work and home.
The AP's discreet description of "young couples" was not quite journalistic truth-telling; often they were people eager to evade detection by spouses, which according to second-hand reports I have heard included professional practitioners of amorous arts. The weekend getaways were so well-known that they were spoofed in the hit musical farce of the 1920 Broadway season, "The Night Boat," set on a Manhattan-to-Albany voyage.
But by the 1940s, Americans had grown more impatient. Why take all night for a trip a train or a car could make in a few hours? Steamship travel had grown expensive. Horse racing was drawing fewer fans, too, and there were plenty of entertainment options closer to New York.
What brings the Albany Night Boat to mind now is the rush to capitalize on voters' approval this month of the constitutional amendment to allow full-scale casino gambling in New York. If we're to believe the promises of those who pushed the amendment, it's not just the casinos that will profit; other businesses will spring up to serve casino patrons.
That's not necessarily a comforting thought for many. A contemporary American casino, after all, is less like what we saw in James Bond movies than it is like a Chuck E. Cheese with slot machines and grown-up beverages. The enterprises that will surround the casinos will create commerce, all right, but it isn't likely to be elegant.
Surely that's one reason a majority of voters in the Capital Region gave the casino proposition the cold shoulder. In fact, in this area it carried, narrowly, only in Rensselaer County.
You can understand the concern of Saratoga Springs voters, in particular. The little city is thriving, fueled by a relatively affluent population. The thoroughbred track and the Saratoga Performing Arts Center bring a sophisticated clientele to an attractive little downtown, where a lot of new housing (some of it for wealthy seasonal residents) has sprung up.
A big expansion already is planned at Saratoga Casino and Raceway, a standardbred track and "racino," and its owners say they'll compete vigorously for the single license for a full-scale casino that will be available in the Capital Region.
Maybe a casino would be good for Saratoga Springs. But it's a risk. The crowds drawn to the casino could chase away the people drawn to the aura of elegance that attaches to Saratoga; traffic jams could discourage visitors, and national retail and food chains could imperil the impressive array of home-grown shops and eateries that make the Spa City unique.
One revenue stream that no doubt would grow if a casino is built in Saratoga Springs is the state's draw from drunk driving fines along the Northway. My advice: Steer clear. Unlike patrons of the Albany Night Boat, these gamblers will be dangerous.
Which is only one factor not entirely facetiously weighing in support of an alternative to the Saratoga casino site — at the one local place where voters said they want it, in Rensselaer County.
Along the Rensselaer city riverfront, a couple blocks north of the Amtrak station, a developer has long imagined a hotel, residential and retail complex with a marina. The shovel-ready site lies just across the Dunn Memorial Bridge from downtown Albany.
A casino poses smaller risk to Rensselaer; the little city is desperate for any investment. Recognizing that, the city council voted 10-0 this week to support the effort to lure a casino.
It's not hard to imagine a night boat docking at the Rensselaer pier, unloading a crowd of people looking forward to a weekend there. While you're imagining, you might even see a family coming by boat or train, taking time out from casino entertainment to enjoy the aquarium and the Old Fort Nassau re-creation on the Albany County side of the river. And visits to the State Museum and the Capitol, of course.
Only the last part of that vision is real right now. But a riverboat, you know, could be only part of what comes next.