Beneath the Empire State: The British Bricks That Anchored America’s Icon
Beneath the shimmering art deco crown of the Empire State Building, where thousands gather daily to soak in the breathtaking panorama of New York’s skyline, lies a story hidden in the very ground that supports it—one not born in Manhattan, but molded in the misty valleys of northern England.
For all its American symbolism and skyscraping bravado, one of the world’s most enduring architectural icons has roots that stretch across the Atlantic, to a sleepy English village most have never heard of.
It’s a story layered not in concrete and steel, but in the reddish grit of Lancashire’s earth—a tale that binds industrial perseverance with transoceanic mystery. What could possibly connect the Empire State Building with a modest town called Altham? And why, among countless global suppliers, were the unassuming bricks forged there chosen to support the very bones of America’s most famous skyscraper?
To answer that, we need to dig deep—literally and historically—into the clay-rich foundations of both the building and the men and women who shaped the bricks that made it possible.
The Unexpected Backbone of a Vertical Giant
Since its grand opening in 1931, the Empire State Building has stood as a monument to human ambition. For four decades, it soared unchallenged as the tallest building on the planet, capturing imaginations through the Great Depression and well beyond. But towering at 1,454 feet, the engineering marvel required more than architectural vision; it demanded materials capable of withstanding unimaginable pressures.
That’s where the story takes a transatlantic turn.
Buried beneath the soaring steel framework, in the bedrock of the structure, are bricks unlike any others—bricks made not in the boroughs of New York, but in the rain-drenched kilns of Lancashire, England. Specifically, they were crafted by the Accrington Brick and Tile Company, nestled in the unassuming village of Altham.
These were no ordinary bricks. Known by their enigmatic moniker “Nori,” these bricks were so extraordinarily resilient that they soon earned a reputation for being nearly indestructible. Created from dense, iron-rich red clay extracted from Lancashire’s soil, Nori bricks were capable of enduring intense pressure, high temperatures, and even chemical corrosion. It’s said they could survive acids that would erode lesser materials—and this made them a top pick for industrial and architectural applications where failure simply wasn’t an option.
A Brick by Any Other Name
The name “Nori” has baffled historians and locals alike for decades. According to popular lore, it may have been the result of a happy accident: a factory chimney was allegedly painted with the word “IRON,” only for the letters to be reversed—either by stencil error or intentionally to establish a unique identity. Other theories claim the brick moulds themselves were purposely cast backward as a branding tactic, distinguishing the product from the similar but differently manufactured “Accrington Red” bricks made in nearby Huncoat.
Regardless of its origin, the name stuck. And so did the reputation.
Nori bricks didn’t just lay the groundwork for the Empire State Building; they became foundational elements in other major construction feats. From the seaside majesty of Blackpool Tower to the fortified structures of the Sellafield nuclear plant in Cumbria, these bricks bore the weight of some of Britain’s and the world’s most ambitious undertakings. They were even used in building power stations like Battersea and Fiddler’s Ferry—projects that demanded materials with supreme resistance to thermal stress and chemical exposure.
Their architectural legacy wasn’t limited to industrial and commercial landmarks either. Culturally, Nori bricks found their way into British iconography, showing up in the brick-built sculpture “The Brick Train” in Darlington and lining the walls of Manchester’s legendary Hacienda nightclub—a hub of counterculture and music history.
Their color and durability helped inspire the phrase “red brick universities,” which originally described institutions like the University of Birmingham whose signature red masonry became a symbol of modern higher education.
A Global Journey Through Time and Terrain
Part of the Nori brick’s success story was logistical. Lancashire’s extensive rail network, combined with access to the Leeds and Liverpool Canal, made it remarkably efficient to transport heavy materials across the UK and into international shipping lanes. For more than a century, these durable bricks journeyed far beyond their birthplace—eventually reaching the shores of the United States, where they were chosen for one of the most ambitious architectural projects in history.
That these bricks were even considered for the Empire State Building is a testament to their quality. At a time when construction was rapidly evolving, and New York was racing to the skies, only the toughest materials would do. The engineers needed a brick that could endure—not only through the forces of nature, but through the challenges of time. Nori bricks delivered.
A Fall and a Rebirth
Despite their global acclaim, even the sturdiest materials are not immune to economic shifts. In 2008, after more than a century of operation, the Accrington brickworks ceased production, and 83 skilled workers were left jobless. The closure marked the end of an era—or so it seemed.
But resilience, it seems, was baked into the very clay from which the Nori bricks were formed.
In 2014, the brickworks roared back to life following a £1.4 million investment from building product supplier Hanson UK. Riding the wave of a booming property market, the revived factory aimed to meet renewed demand while honoring a legacy that spanned generations.
That same year, then-Prime Minister David Cameron and Chancellor George Osborne made a high-profile visit to the site, signaling its symbolic and practical importance to Britain’s manufacturing future.
A Legacy Set in Stone
In many ways, the story of the Nori brick reflects the story of industrial Britain itself: quietly powerful, underappreciated, and deeply woven into the foundations of global progress. It’s a reminder that greatness doesn’t always originate from glossy capitals or corporate boardrooms. Sometimes, it springs from red clay beneath the boots of local workers who took pride in every kiln-fired block.
Today, as millions gaze out from the 86th-floor observation deck of the Empire State Building, very few know that part of what keeps the landmark standing tall came from a foggy English village. But knowing this makes the marvel even more meaningful.
The bricks may not be visible—but their strength endures. In every storm the building weathers, in every tremor it resists, there is a whisper of Lancashire’s soil and the indomitable spirit of the people who shaped it.
conclusion
The Empire State Building may be a triumph of American ambition, but its stability rests on British shoulders—or more accurately, British bricks. From the obscure town of Altham to the heart of Manhattan, the Nori brick’s journey is a testament to how even the humblest materials can anchor monumental dreams.
So, the next time you look up at the towering spire piercing New York’s sky, remember: some legacies aren’t just written in history—they’re fired in clay and buried deep in the ground, holding everything above steady.