Although in 1891 Cornelius Vanderbilt’s train tracks to Grand Central Depot had been submerged below Park Avenue for more than a decade, it would be another ten years before millionaires began constructing mansions on the avenue. But the neighborhood was becoming more respectable. Where small butcher and grocery shops and modest homes had stood, rows of Queen Anne rowhouses cropped up, along with French flats—the term used to distinguish upright apartment buildings from tenement houses.
Getting in on the trend was developer Lorenz Weiher. A year earlier he had purchased the entire
block of properties fronting Park Avenue on the east side, as well as the house
at No. 101 East 75th Street. It
was here in No. 101 in 1866 that 12-year old Richard Humphrey lived. That year he blew his
middle finger off “by the premature discharge of a pistol which he was loading”
in preparation for the Independence Day celebration.
Weiher had the existing structures razed and in their place
erected a row of seven brick, stone and terra cotta flats which he gave the
impressive name, The Terrace. The
structures featured the latest in 1890s taste.
Generally neo-Renaissance, they included nubby terra cotta tiles
borrowed from the Queen Anne style and incised lines within the two-story brick
piers of the fourth and fifth floors, made popular by the Eastlake Movement.
Placing the entrance of the corner buildings on Park Avenue
would have caused a logistical problem. The
architect would have to bisect the front apartments for the stair and hall; and
residents might be faced with a long walk inside. With
the entrances placed on the side streets, the two apartments on each floor were
separated by the stair hall—providing commodious flats six bays wide on the
east and west sides of the hall. The
arrangement also provided store space on Park Avenue for the two buildings.
Weiher’s $170,000 project was completed in 1891 and No. 101
East 75th Street, the southern anchor building, filled with a
variety of tenants. They were seemingly
comfortable businessmen, like Nathaniel White who ran a watch business on
Maiden Lane, and Louis N. Lake, a grain broker.
Hendrik-Dirk Kruseman Van Elten was also among the first
residents. Born and trained in Holland,
he was an established landscape artist before first exhibited at the National
Academy of Design in 1866. By the time
Van Elten moved into No. 101, his European style had become heavily influenced
by the Hudson River School.
The comfortable financial conditions of the residents was
reflected in Sophia Stitzer’s brush with a burglar on September 9, 1896. When the widow returned home that afternoon,
she realized that her door had been forced open. As she entered, a man rushed past her and
down the stairs.
Sophia Stitzer was right behind. She caught the attention of a policeman and
40-year old Frank Coleman was promptly arrested. The burglar was searched and The New York
Times reported that “$700 worth of watches, jewelry, and diamonds was found on
him.” Although not all of the loot was
Sophia’s (he had robbed the flat of Milton Pemberton at No. 101 East 78th
Street the same day), the haul would amount to over $18,000 today.
The retail space at No. 101 was home to Heinrich F. Holtorf’s
grocery store. The German-born immigrant
lived upstairs with his wife, Christina, and their three children. Like almost every other resident, they had
servants—Gertrude Hecker was their cook and teenaged Freda Hense helped with the
children.
By 1902 J. B. Henck, Jr. lived here. He was a member of the Appalachian Mountain
Club and apparently he found the racket of city life a distressing contrast to
the calm of forest hiking. On January
15, 1906 the New-York Tribune published his letter to the editor regarding the
annoying whistles of Hudson River boat traffic.
“Whatever tends to reduce the wear and tear of nerves in a
great city is worth serious attention, and that is my excuse for asking space
to suggest what I believe would be a practicable substitute for the constant
tooting of whistles on our rivers and harbors,” he began.
Henck suggested connecting the ship’s whistle cord to a
pulley fastened to a shuttered lantern. “Then
whenever the whistle was blown the light would be uncovered, and there would be
a flash for every toot.” Henck suggested
that after awhile, river captains would become accustomed to the lights and the
annoying whistles would no longer be necessary.
Heinrich Holtorf was doing well for himself in his corner
grocery store and when the building was put on the market in March 1909 he
purchased it for $75,000 (about $1.85 million today). Before the year ended, the rest of The
Terrace buildings were purchased by a syndicate which demolished the row—leaving
No. 101 the sole survivor.
By the time of World War I Park Avenue was seeing the rise
of brick and limestone mansions. The
street’s heightened upscale reputation was reflected in the tenant list of No.
101 East 75th Street. In
December 1917 Louise Gardner married Frederick Rodgers, an exporter and the son
of the late Rear Admiral Frederick Rodgers, in the fashionable Trinity Chapel.
The Gardner name was well-known in polite society. Louise was the only child of John C. F.
Gardner and the former Jane S. Hatch.
She had grown up in the family mansion at No. 25 West 55th
Street and summered in their Nantucket home.
The Sun noted on January 6, 1918 “On their return from their
wedding trip Mr. and Mrs. Rodgers will live at 101 East Seventy-fifth street.” Two days later The New York Times alerted
society that the newlyweds were back home.
The war in Europe affected the couple the following year
when Frederick served on the jury in the U.S. Government’s treason case against
Albert Paul Fricke. Fricke was charged
with harboring a German spy, Hermann Wessells, and of arranging meetings with other
persons in sympathy with Wessells’ mission.
While Frederick Rodgers was sitting on the jury for several
weeks, other tenants in the building included author Geraldine Bonner. Her popular novels included Tomorrow’s Tangle; The Black Eagle Mystery;
Treasure and Trouble Therewith; and Rich
Men’s Children. Another creative
resident was Marjory Peck. In August
1919 she entered The Rieser Company’s contest on “Why I Prefer Venida Hair
Nets.” Of the more than 5,000 entries,
Marjorie won the $35 third prize.
Also living here were Mrs. Lewis Broomall and her daughter
Virginia. Virginia left her mother in
June 1921 following her wedding to George Winship Taylor in the Church of the
Resurrection.
Attorney Leland Blodget Duer and his wife, the former
Dorothy Dean Tate, lived here at the time.
Duer’s diverse interests had led him to spend the summer of 1909 in
Canada photographing moose, bear and other wild game; and later that year
serving as secretary to Justice Holmes of the Supreme Court of the United
States. Now he was a member of the legal
firm Simpson, Thacher & Barlett at No. 62 Cedar Street.
The Worthington family was also in the building. Thomas Kimber Worthington had
married Mary Grace Thomas in 1887 and they had two sons (their daughter died in
1912). Mary was a graduate of Johns
Hopkins University and was a Supervisor of Field Work at the New York School of
Philanthropy.
Son Harold was still living with his parents in 1922. A graduate of Yale, he had served in the U.S.
Army during the war as a first lieutenant in Field Artillery. Now he was in the import-export business and
was affiliated with the Pennsylvania Railroad and General Electric Company.
That year Holtorf hoped to bring the 30-year old structure
more into the jazz age. He hired
architects Schwartz & Gross to renovate the interiors and remove the Victorian
portico on East 75th Street.
He stopped short of reducing the size of the apartments, however; and maintained
the original two flats on each floor.
No. 101 East 75th Street would continue to
attract an interesting list of residents.
Glenn Hall lived here; a well-known tenor at the turn of the century and
a singer with the Metropolitan Opera Company from 1909 to 1911. And when French sculptress Jacqueline Zay visited
Manhattan in 1939, she was the guest of honor at a cocktail party in the
apartment of Henry d’Omano, Director of the French Government Tourist Bureau.
At some point in the 20th century No. 101 was
painted white; obliterating the contrast between brick, stone and terra
cotta. Heinrich (now referred to as
Henry) Holtorf died in the building in 1937 and his family retained possession
until 1951 when it was sold to Anna Efron.
A Russian immigrant, she would own the property for over
three decades. During this time the
corner grocery store became a flower shop.
Efron sold the building in 1983 to Gran Sabana Corporation who, in the
late 1990s stripped the paint off the old red brick. The Landmarks Preservation Commission stepped
in (the building is situated within the Upper
East Side Historic District) when the firm decided to paint it yellow.
Although the retail store is distressing, the building escaped being painted yellow. |
photographs taken by the author
Awesome Victorian edifice
ReplyDeleteActually, the ground floor is not a restaurant....it is a Larry Gagosian art gallery.
ReplyDeleteI lived there from 1999 -2008. Great old building, big two bedroom apt, closets galore, high ceilings, dining room etc. Still has original manual accordion gate elevator. It runs like a charm.
ReplyDeleteHenry (Heinrich Frederich G. Holtorf) is my great-grandfather. I have very little information about him, so was thrilled to read this article. His eldest daugter Edna Louise Holtorf (Parker) who died in February 1938, was my grandmother. Mary Christine Parker (Morrison) who died in February 2018 was my mother. Many of the various pieces of the family puzzle are starting to fall into place! I would love to hear from anyone who has more information. Feel free to Please don't hesitate to contact me (Susan Morrison) at smorrison7@gmail.com.
ReplyDeleteBest Regards, Susan Morrison