In June it was announced that the building that housed the Ken Wilson Chevrolet dealership showroom near Binghamton, NY, will be demolished.

A distinctive feature of the roadside landscape along the Vestal Parkway, this unique building is known as “The Manta Ray” to me and my family because of its roof, which looks like the graceful pectoral fins of a manta ray.

Unused and for sale for several years, the Manta Ray still seems to be swimming in an asphalt sea of cracked parking lots. And it is still a well-known and well-loved sight to many who live and travel in Binghamton and Vestal. I have loved it since I was a little kid, when I rode in the farm truck, sandwiched between my parents, to appointments with Binghamton doctors.

Last week, my family and I drove to Vestal to pay homage to the building’s unique architecture and to walk on the upswept concrete roof. We did “The Walk,” as it is known to local residents.

Built in 1964, the building is an example of a “hyperbolic paraboloid”—a geometric surface created from the rotation of straight lines often referred to as a “saddle.” This space-age style was particularly popular in the Pacific Northwest between 1950 and 1975. The Manta Ray was designed by James R. Mowry, who was a prevalent architect in New York’s Southern Tier during the ‘60s and ‘70s. It was one of his first projects.

According to Roger Luther in his column “Treasures of the Tier,” the building’s roof is a three-inch thick shell of concrete that was poured on site. The roof is supported at just two points.

The Valley Christian Reformed Church in Kattleville, NY, near Binghamton, is another example of a hyperbolic paraboloid building designed by Morey. Built in 1968, completely out of wood, the building is locally nicknamed “the snowplow building.”

According to a report by WNBF News, the Manta Ray building and adjacent property were recently sold. Two restaurants, including a Chili’s, as well as several retail stores are planned for the site, which is located next to the Town Square Mall.

In the late ‘90s, John and I visited the building when it was up and running as a Chevrolet dealership. The salesman, a recent immigrant from Kosovo, tried to sell us a car while we sat in the triangular glass corner where his desk was situated and asked questions about the building and the Bosnian war. We never did buy that car, but we did enjoy the chance to see the building up close. We have always whimsically joked about winning the lottery and buying the Manta Ray and moving it to our backyard. After all, there is no zoning in the Town of Hancock, you know. But even if we had the money, moving that building is a feat that could not be accomplished without destroying it in the process.

So we opted for walking on the roof this past week. Tire marks on the roof show where others have roller skated and ridden bikes.

As the roadside gives way to generic big-box retailers and chain restaurants, the Manta Ray and other original and historic artifacts of architecture will be missed.