What If St. Louis Never Built the Gateway Arch?

The Actual History

The Gateway Arch, an iconic 630-foot tall stainless steel monument in St. Louis, Missouri, stands as the tallest man-made monument in the Western Hemisphere and the tallest accessible building in Missouri. The structure's conception dates back to the 1930s, when civic leaders in St. Louis sought to revitalize the city's downtown riverfront area and create a memorial honoring the city's role in the westward expansion of the United States.

In 1935, during the Great Depression, the idea for a riverfront memorial gained traction when local attorney Luther Ely Smith returned from a visit to the George Rogers Clark National Historical Park in Indiana. Inspired by what he saw, Smith proposed a memorial in St. Louis to celebrate Thomas Jefferson's Louisiana Purchase of 1803 and to recognize the city's significance as the "Gateway to the West" for 19th-century pioneers. In December 1935, President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed an executive order creating the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial, and the following year, the United States Territorial Expansion Memorial Commission was established.

The project faced numerous obstacles from its inception. The Great Depression and World War II delayed progress, and by the early 1940s, only land acquisition had been completed, with many historic buildings along the riverfront demolished to clear space for the memorial. The cleared 40-acre site remained largely untouched throughout the war years.

In 1947-48, the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial Association held a nationwide architectural competition to select a design for the memorial. The competition attracted 172 submissions, including entries from prominent architects such as Eero Saarinen, Walter Gropius, and Charles and Ray Eames. On February 18, 1948, Eero Saarinen's design for a 630-foot stainless steel arch was selected as the winner. Saarinen's elegant, minimalist design was revolutionary—a weighted catenary arch that would symbolize "the gateway to the West" and America's expansion.

Despite winning the competition, the project continued to experience delays due to funding issues, property disputes, and the Korean War. Construction finally began on February 12, 1963, and the last section of the Arch was put into place on October 28, 1965. The Arch cost approximately $13 million to build (equivalent to about $120 million in 2025 dollars). The structure was opened to the public on June 10, 1967, and the tram system that carries visitors to the observation deck was completed the following year.

Over the decades, the Gateway Arch has become the defining symbol of St. Louis and one of the most recognizable architectural landmarks in the United States. It draws approximately 2 million visitors annually and has played a crucial role in St. Louis's tourism industry and urban identity. In 2018, the area around the Arch was redesigned and expanded into the Gateway Arch National Park, improving connections between the monument, downtown St. Louis, and the Mississippi River. The $380 million renovation project added a new museum entrance, visitor center, and enhanced landscaping, making the landmark more accessible while emphasizing its historical significance.

Today, the Gateway Arch stands not only as a monument to America's westward expansion but also as a testament to mid-century American optimism, engineering prowess, and modernist design principles. It has been featured on Missouri license plates, countless postcards, and has become synonymous with the identity of St. Louis itself.

The Point of Divergence

What if St. Louis never built the Gateway Arch? In this alternate timeline, we explore a scenario where the ambitious monument that defines St. Louis's skyline was never constructed, fundamentally altering the city's development, identity, and place in American culture.

Several plausible historical divergence points could have prevented the Arch's construction:

First, the project might have been permanently abandoned during its lengthy period of delay between the 1948 design selection and the 1963 construction start. In our timeline, the Korean War, funding challenges, and railroad disputes postponed construction for 15 years. In this alternate scenario, perhaps the enthusiasm for the project waned during this extended period, with a new city administration in the mid-1950s deciding to reallocate the funds to more practical urban renewal projects or infrastructure needs.

Alternatively, in 1953-54, when congressional funding was finally being secured for the project, a more fiscally conservative Congress might have rejected the appropriations bill that provided federal funding for the monument. Senator Stuart Symington of Missouri, who championed the project, might have failed to convince his colleagues of the Arch's importance, particularly during a period of budget constraints following the Korean War.

A third possibility involves the railroad relocation disputes that nearly derailed the project. In our timeline, the Terminal Railroad Association eventually agreed to move its tracks that ran along the riverfront at the memorial site. In this alternate reality, perhaps the legal challenges from the railroad companies prevailed, making it impossible to clear the necessary space for Saarinen's design. The courts might have ruled against the memorial association, leaving critical portions of the riverfront inaccessible for development.

Perhaps the most compelling divergence centers on the 1948 design competition itself. The selection of Saarinen's Arch was not universally celebrated—many architects and critics of the time preferred other submissions that were less dramatic and more conventional. In this alternate timeline, the selection committee might have chosen the second-place design by Eliel Saarinen (Eero's father) or another finalist's more traditional memorial plan featuring plazas, statues, and buildings rather than a single monumental arch. Such a conventional design would likely have faced fewer engineering challenges and public skepticism but would have lacked the iconic status that ultimately made the Arch famous.

Whatever the cause, by the late 1950s in this alternate timeline, St. Louis abandoned its ambitious plans for a massive Gateway Arch, opting instead for a more modest memorial park along the Mississippi riverfront—one that would commemorate the city's historical significance but without the definitive architectural statement that has come to symbolize St. Louis in our reality.

Immediate Aftermath

Alternative Riverfront Development (1950s-1960s)

Without the Arch as the centerpiece of the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial, St. Louis would have needed an alternative plan for its cleared riverfront area. The 40 acres of prime downtown real estate—where historic buildings had already been demolished in the 1940s—would not have remained vacant indefinitely.

In this alternate timeline, the city likely would have implemented a more conventional urban renewal approach typical of the 1950s and 1960s. The National Park Service, which had jurisdiction over the memorial site, might have constructed a more traditional monument complex with museums, formal gardens, and statuary commemorating Thomas Jefferson and the Louisiana Purchase. This development would have been comparable to other national historical parks of the era, but without a singular iconic structure.

Mayor Raymond R. Tucker, who served from 1953 to 1965 and was a key supporter of the Arch in our timeline, would have faced pressure to show progress on the riverfront. Without the Arch project to champion, Tucker might have partnered with private developers to create a mixed-use district combining some memorial elements with commercial and recreational facilities. This approach would have aligned with contemporary urban renewal trends in American cities that favored practical development over purely monumental projects.

Economic Impact and Resource Allocation

The $13 million allocated to the Arch's construction would have been redistributed to other priorities. St. Louis in the 1950s and 1960s faced significant urban challenges, including population decline, aging infrastructure, and racial tensions. City leaders might have directed these funds toward more pressing needs:

Transportation Infrastructure: The funds might have accelerated highway construction or public transit improvements. St. Louis was developing its interstate highway system during this period, and additional resources could have resulted in better-designed urban highways that avoided some of the neighborhood disruption that occurred in our timeline.
Urban Housing Programs: The city was implementing controversial urban renewal programs during this era. Without the Arch project consuming resources and attention, more funds might have gone toward housing initiatives, potentially with better results than the problematic Pruitt-Igoe housing project, which was constructed in the mid-1950s.
Industrial Development: St. Louis was beginning to experience deindustrialization. City leaders might have invested more aggressively in retaining manufacturing jobs or developing new economic sectors to offset losses in traditional industries.

Media and Public Perception

The cancellation of the Arch would have generated significant media coverage, both locally and nationally. The New York Times, which had covered the design competition extensively, would likely have run articles analyzing the failure of this ambitious architectural project. Architecture critics might have cited St. Louis as an example of American cities' inability to execute bold visions during the postwar period.

Locally, public reaction would have been mixed. Some St. Louisans had viewed Saarinen's design with skepticism, questioning the practicality and aesthetic value of such an unusual structure. Others had embraced the forward-looking design and would have been disappointed by its abandonment. The St. Louis Post-Dispatch, which had generally supported the Arch, would have run editorials lamenting the lost opportunity while acknowledging the practical challenges.

Eero Saarinen's Career Trajectory

For Eero Saarinen, losing his most ambitious commission would have represented a significant professional setback. The Arch was intended to be his masterpiece—a reputation-defining achievement. Without it, Saarinen's legacy would have rested more heavily on his other works, such as the TWA Flight Center at JFK Airport (1962) and the main terminal at Dulles International Airport (1962).

Interestingly, Saarinen died unexpectedly in 1961, two years before Arch construction began in our timeline. In both timelines, he never saw his most famous work completed. However, in the alternate timeline without the Arch, Saarinen might have channeled his creative energy into other monumental commissions, potentially designing different landmarks that never materialized in our reality.

National Park Service Planning

The National Park Service would have needed to reformulate its approach to the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial. By 1960, the agency would likely have developed a more modest plan emphasizing historical interpretation over architectural spectacle. The site might have featured:

A more conventional Jefferson memorial building housing exhibits on westward expansion
Historical markers and smaller monuments throughout the site
Landscaped parks and riverfront access points
Replicas or reconstructions of historic buildings that once stood on the site

This development would have established the memorial as a respectable but unremarkable addition to the National Park Service system—more akin to Independence National Historical Park in Philadelphia than the uniquely dramatic national landmark that the Arch became.

Long-term Impact

St. Louis's Urban Identity Crisis (1970s-1990s)

The absence of the Gateway Arch would have profoundly affected St. Louis's urban identity over subsequent decades. In our timeline, the Arch became the city's defining symbol—a shorthand visual reference that immediately evoked St. Louis in everything from sports broadcasts to tourism materials. Without this iconic landmark, St. Louis would have struggled to establish a distinctive visual identity in the national consciousness.

This identity crisis would have coincided with the city's difficult economic and demographic transition in the 1970s and 1980s. As St. Louis continued to lose population (dropping from 750,000 in 1950 to under 400,000 by 1990) and major employers departed, the city would have lacked a powerful symbol of resilience and historical significance. Local leaders would have searched for alternative ways to brand the city, perhaps emphasizing:

The city's brewing heritage (Anheuser-Busch)
Its sports teams (the Cardinals and Blues)
Its musical legacy in jazz and blues
Its historical role in river commerce

None of these elements, however, would have provided the immediate visual recognition that the Arch offers. When national media covered St. Louis Cardinals games, for instance, they would have lacked the signature shot of the Arch looming over the downtown skyline—an image that has provided invaluable exposure for the city over decades.

Alternative Riverfront Evolution

Without the Arch and its surrounding national park, the St. Louis riverfront would have developed very differently from the 1970s onward. Several scenarios are plausible:

Commercial Development Scenario

In this possibility, the city might have eventually sold portions of the cleared riverfront land to private developers, resulting in a patchwork of commercial, residential, and recreational uses by the 1980s. Cities like Baltimore and Boston revitalized their waterfronts during this period with festival marketplaces, aquariums, and mixed-use developments. St. Louis might have followed this model, creating a more commercially vibrant but less iconic riverfront.

Industrial Persistence Scenario

Alternatively, without the Arch project's focus on creating a grand civic space, portions of the riverfront might have remained industrial for longer. The working river—with its barges, warehouses, and grain elevators—might have maintained a stronger presence in downtown St. Louis, potentially preserving more blue-collar jobs but doing less to attract visitors and new investment.

Fragmented Parks Scenario

A third possibility would have seen the development of a disconnected series of smaller riverfront parks and historical sites, lacking the unifying presence of the Arch and its grounds. This fragmentation would have made it more difficult to create the coherent urban space that eventually emerged with the CityArchRiver project in our timeline.

Tourism Economics

The economic impact of not building the Arch would have been substantial. In our timeline, the Gateway Arch attracts approximately 2 million visitors annually, generating significant tourism revenue for the region. Without this attraction:

St. Louis would have captured fewer national and international tourists
Downtown hotels would have developed at a slower pace
Related attractions like riverboat cruises would have seen lower demand
Restaurants and retail in the downtown area would have had a smaller customer base

Conservative estimates suggest that by 2025, the cumulative economic impact of not building the Arch would represent billions in lost tourism revenue over six decades. The city would have needed to develop alternative attractions to draw visitors, perhaps investing more heavily in its zoo, botanical garden, or museums to compensate for the missing landmark.

Architectural and Cultural Legacy

The absence of the Arch would have left a void in American architectural history. Saarinen's elegant design represents one of the most successful monuments of the modernist era—a rare example of a public structure that achieved both critical acclaim and popular affection. Without the Arch, the canon of great American architectural works would be diminished.

This gap would have affected both the architectural profession and popular culture. Architectural students would not study the Arch's innovative structural solutions and elegant proportions. Films set in St. Louis, like "Escape from New York" (1981) and "Meet Me in St. Louis" (1944, though set earlier), would lack the visual shorthand the Arch provides. Even the 1980s revival of interest in Saarinen's work might have been less pronounced without his most famous creation standing as testament to his genius.

National Park Service Evolution

The National Park Service's approach to urban parks and memorials might have developed differently without the Arch experience. The Jefferson National Expansion Memorial represented a departure for the agency—managing a major modernist monument in an urban center was different from its traditional role maintaining natural landscapes and historical buildings.

In our timeline, the success of the Arch encouraged the NPS to embrace more ambitious architectural and landscaping projects in urban settings. Without this precedent, the agency might have remained more conservative in its approach to urban sites, potentially affecting later developments like Boston National Historical Park or the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial in Washington, DC.

St. Louis Urban Planning and Development (2000s-Present)

By the early 21st century, the divergence between our timeline and the Arch-less alternative would be profound. In our reality, St. Louis implemented the $380 million CityArchRiver project (completed in 2018), which reconnected downtown to the riverfront, expanded the Arch grounds, and created a cohesive visitor experience centered on the monument. This project represented one of the most significant urban redesign efforts in recent American history.

Without the Arch, St. Louis's 21st-century riverfront development would likely have been:

More fragmented and incremental
Less successful in attracting federal funding and national attention
More focused on commercial development than public space
Less effective as a catalyst for downtown revitalization

The absence of a unified 91-acre national park in the heart of downtown would have made coordinated planning more difficult. The city might have struggled more severely with the urban revitalization challenges that many mid-sized Midwestern cities have faced in recent decades.

As of 2025 in this alternate timeline, St. Louis would still be a significant American city with many assets, but it would lack its most distinctive feature—the soaring symbol that has come to represent not just a city but an entire chapter of American history and the nation's westward journey.

Expert Opinions

Dr. Catherine Williams, Professor of Urban Planning at Washington University in St. Louis, offers this perspective: "The absence of the Gateway Arch would represent more than just a missing landmark—it would signify a fundamentally different development trajectory for St. Louis. The Arch has served as an anchor for downtown, a catalyst for riverfront investment, and a powerful branding tool. Without it, I believe St. Louis would have experienced even more severe urban challenges in the post-industrial era. Cities need symbols around which to rally civic pride and external recognition. The Arch provided both at a critical juncture when St. Louis was losing population and economic momentum. An Arch-less St. Louis might have had more in common with cities like Detroit or Cleveland, which lacked similarly powerful landmarks during their periods of transition and struggled to reinvent themselves."

Professor James Worthington, architectural historian at Columbia University and author of several books on modernist monuments, provides a different analysis: "The non-construction of the Gateway Arch would have left a significant gap in America's architectural canon, but might have yielded unexpected benefits for St. Louis's urban fabric. The Arch, for all its beauty, created a monumentalized space somewhat divorced from the daily life of the city. In my research on riverfront development in cities without singular monuments, I've found that more organic, mixed-use approaches often generate greater everyday vibrancy. Perhaps an alternate St. Louis would have developed a more integrated waterfront district with continuous activity rather than a pristine but sometimes underutilized memorial space. The 40 acres cleared for the Arch might have instead hosted a diverse mixture of museums, housing, offices, and retail—potentially creating more economic activity even without the tourism draw of Saarinen's masterpiece."

Dr. Michael Fernandez, Historic Preservation Specialist and former National Park Service consultant, comments: "The decision not to build the Arch would have dramatically altered how Americans interact with their history of westward expansion. The Arch doesn't just symbolize this history—it physicalizes it in a way that conventional museums cannot. Its soaring form communicates ambition, tension, and the bridging of territories through a visceral, embodied experience. Without this landmark, the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial would likely have become a more traditionally educational but less emotionally resonant site—perhaps more historically informative but less capable of inspiring awe or provoking deeper reflection. The difference illustrates why architectural form matters in how we commemorate our past. Sometimes a powerful symbol communicates more than detailed exhibits ever could."