Sitt Hits the Fans: When Coney Gets Tough, the Going Gets Weird



The latest attraction at the Coney Island Arcade is owner Manny Cohen’s


Joe Sitt, Dianna Carlin, and Digna Rodriguez-Poulton at Ruby’s.

The battle
of Coney Island
may be serious business, but never let it be said that
the combatants don’t have a sense of humor. This weekend, two
amusement-district store owners publicly celebrated skirmishes with their
landlords, one with a wake, one a party—the latter featuring a most
unlikely special guest.

Manny Cohen’s Coney Island Arcade, a collection of video games and other
attractions tucked into a corner storefront at the Bowery and West 12th
Street, is on one of the few plots of prime Coney land not now owned by
Joe Sitt’s Thor Equities, the developer currently locked in a battle with
the city and the neighborhood over his plan to bring beachfront condos to
the boardwalk. But that didn’t stop Cohen’s landlord, Jeff Persily, from
taking a page from Sitt’s book, presenting Cohen with a lease including a
copy of Sitt’s infamous “confidentiality clause” barring tenants from
“engag[ing] in any activities intended to oppose or address the
redevelopment or rezoning of Coney Island.” Cohen says when he balked at
signing, Persily began eviction proceedings.

Cohen’s response: Erecting a mock tombstone outside his store announcing
“Coney Island, R.I.P.” and featuring photos of Syrian president Hafez
al-Assad and Joseph Stalin labeled “Joseph Sitt” and “Jeff Persily.” (Sitt
is of Syrian background.) Cohen attached a copy of the offending contract
for the edification of passersby. “Death Warrant Agreement,” reads the
spookhouse lettering. “If You Sign It, You’re Dead! If You Don’t Sign It,
You’re Still Dead!”

“I fought in two wars for freedom of speech,” fumes the Israeli-born
Cohen. “They say if I put the sign up Sunday, they’re going to start
evicting me.” The sign went up Sunday at 3 pm; Cohen expects to find out
at a May 7 court date what Persily thinks of his depiction.

While Cohen’s legal beef is with Persily, he is just as steamed at Sitt,
pointing to the “Berlin plywood wall” the developer has erected around his
property across the street, isolating the few private amusement owners on
the block who’ve held out and stayed in business. It is, Cohen believes,
part of a scheme to darken the amusement district and clear the way for
redevelopment: “I’m a paratrooper in the Israeli army—I’ll jump from the
Parachute Jump with a pink umbrella if he builds amusements.”

An hour after the unveiling of Cohen’s tombstone, the Coney old guard
gathered at Ruby’s venerable (and venerated) boardwalk restaurant for a
celebration: Dianna Carlin’s Lola Staar Boutique, given up for dead after
Sitt refused to extend her lease after a squabble over that same gag
order, had reopened, once again making the boardwalk safe for Cyclone baby
tees and mermaid floaty pens. Sitt, explains Carlin, had called her the
day before the “Save Coney Island” rally she organized at City Hall last
month, and after an hour-long phone chat, ultimately agreed to extend her
stay through October for “very little money”; Carlin didn’t sign a
confidentiality clause, she stresses, and plans to continue to speak out
against Thor’s condo plans.

The party featured a hot pink cake and the guitar stylings of Polar Bear
Club troubadour Amos Wengler (his “Lola Staar Is Back,” with its singalong
chorus of “Don’t mess with Lola/She’s gonna react,” was a particular hit).
But all were upstaged when in walked Joe Sitt himself, dressed in shades
and a polo shirt. As onlookers goggled, the developer grabbed a plate of
sausage and onions, and greeted his erstwhile adversary Carlin like an old

While Sitt wouldn’t comment on the record—he spent much of his time at
Ruby’s ducking the videographers who dogged his every step—his Thor
associate Digna Rodriguez-Poulton hinted that the fenced-in tire-strewn
wasteland that currently occupies much of Thor’s Coney holdings wouldn’t
remain that way all summer, with a circus a possibility in July or August.

Given the remarks passed around at the Ruby’s bar, Sitt still has a long
way to go to win over a skeptical Coney populace. (“You’re Joe Sitt?” one
patron gasped on meeting him. “You don’t have horns!”) Even Carlin, who
once again seems hopeful about the future, with a sitdown scheduled with
Sitt for next week to discuss his plans, isn’t deluding herself that all
is now copacetic: “It’s all about bargaining tactics, and if that doesn’t
work, he could be back to evicting us all in a few months.”