Fenway Park turns 100 on April 12. And it’s about time we raised a toast to all who not only helped save America’s most beloved ballpark, but the surrounding neighborhood as well.

Yes, saving the ballpark helped spark a dramatic turnaround in the fortunes of the once hapless Red Sox, and for long-suffering fans throughout New England, it’s hard to trump that. But the decision to preserve the ballpark rather than tear it down also unleashed one of the most impressive building booms the Hub has ever seen. 

Today we have a gleaming and fully restored Fenway Park at the center of a once-grimy neighborhood undergoing its own transformation, complete with shiny new high-rise apartment towers and a new rail hub.

But none of that would be happening had Fenway and the streets around it been leveled to make way for a monstrous new stadium.

So if you are wondering who to address those thank you notes to, start with soft-spoken hedge fund billionaire John Henry and his investor group.

“I would say we came extremely close to losing it,” said Dan Wilson, a Boston attorney and one of the leading members of erstwhile preservation group Save Fenway Park! “The change in ownership is the only thing that prevented it.”

Carpet Baggers Turned Saviors

Derided as carpet baggers after buying the team a decade ago, Henry and his gang of glitzy out-of-towners wound up showing they understood Boston better than many of their local bidding rivals for the Sox.

It would be hard to find anyone more steeped in our local political and business practices than Joe O’Donnell, the concessions king and long-time friend of Mayor Thomas M. Menino. Or for that matter, Stephen Karp, the mega-developer who has teamed up with O’Donnell for years and whose credits include Cambridge’s Galleria Mall. Nor was Frank McCourt, the long-time South Boston parking lot grandee, any slouch when it came to knowing the local scene.

But when it came to Fenway, none of these guys really got it.

Karp and O’Donnell wanted to move the Sox to a new stadium, most likely on some tract near the waterfront, leaving Fenway to be sold off or redeveloped. They never wound up nailing down a specific site.

McCourt was even more specific, pledging he would build the Sox a new home on his waterfront parking lots across from Fan Pier. After he lost out in the Sox bidding, McCourt sold his land to finance his acquisition of the Los Angeles Dodgers, launching that storied franchise on a downward spiral.

But it took Henry, previously the owner of the Florida Marlins; Tom Werner, the California TV mogul; and veteran baseball executive Larry Lucchino to figure out that Fenway Park should be saved.

Hindsight is always simple, but this was hardly an easy call to make.

After all, Menino had previously lined up behind a deeply flawed plan floated by outgoing Sox chief John Harrington, who had argued that Fenway was so decrepit that saving it was practically an engineering impossibility. I should know, having had a Sox PR flak practically scream at me for suggesting once upon a time that saving Fenway Park was an option some business leaders wanted explored.

Harrington had hoped to pass on his ridiculous stadium plan, along with the deed to the team, when he sold out. But the new owners had different ideas.

Instead, Henry, Werner and Lucchino brought in Janet Marie Smith, the architect behind what is arguably still – 20 years after opening – the best of the old-in-style-but-new-in-amenities breed of ballparks, Baltimore’s Camden Yards. Her task was “simply” to help bring Fenway Park back from the brink.

And the rest, as they say, is history. But it was far from inevitable. If Fenway had been torn down, we would be looking at a much different neighborhood – and city – today

What Might Have Been

The neighborhood around Fenway Park is booming today because of the old ballpark, not in spite of it.

The decision by Henry and gang put an end to decades of indecision and uncertainty about Fenway’s future, dating to the 1960s.

Developers and local business owners were not inclined to invest in new buildings, given fears the Sox might move to another neighborhood or try and build a new ballpark nearby.

But once it was clear the Sox and Fenway Park were staying put, savvy developers like Steve Samuels began making big bets on the neighborhood. Samuels has spent the past decade building residential towers – with more to come. He also now controls the Landmark Center, which is also teed up for a potential expansion.

But it’s hard to see how any of that would have happened had Fenway been torn down.

If the Sox had moved to the waterfront or some other neighborhood, it would have torn out Fenway’s commercial heart. And if a new stadium had instead been built next door, it would have come at the cost of leveling innumerable small restaurants, shops and businesses to make room.

It’s possible we could have wound up with the Fenway version of the Filene’s fiasco, which has left a huge hole in the middle of Downtown Crossing.

And as tragic as the Filene’s situation has been, the loss of Fenway Park would have been ten times worse.