On September 1, 1883 The Real Estate Record and Builders’
Guide reported on two planned four story rowhouses at Nos. 26 and 28 Fifth
Avenue. The upscale homes would be
constructed by Dr. J. H. Gautier following the designs of architect Henry J.
Hardenbergh.
The townhouses were not the first, and certainly not the
last, time the two men worked together.
Five months earlier, construction had begun on an intimate apartment
building on The Boulevard, the extension of Broadway north of 59th
Street.
The four-story brick structure, at Nos. 17 and 19, sat just
steps away from the entrance to Central Park.
Hardenberg produced a charming Queen Anne building that pretended to be
mirror-image private homes. Sharp gables
provided a serrated roofline before a slate-shingled mansard. Arched openings and balconies contributed to
the pleasing design.
Among the first tenants was wealthy broker James M.
Selover. His brother, Major Selover, was described by
The Sun as “at one time a power in Wall street, and still one of its interesting
characters.” On March 24, 1887 the Major
became suddenly ill in the office of DeMott & Durant. The Sun reported that “The Major was taken to
the home of his brother.”
Also living in the apartment house at the time was P. S. Mayer,
who sold butcher fixtures.
Two years later James M. Selover was in Chicago on
business. He died there at the Leland
Hotel on October 18, 1889.
When the Gaultier estate sold the building to the Upright
Realty Co. in March 1906, The Boulevard had been renamed and the address was
now Nos. 1845 and 1847 Broadway. At the
time of the sale it was still being operated as an apartment house. Among the tenants was Margaret Windt, a dealer
in soda fixtures, and real estate operator Charles F. Deshler.
But by 1909 the Upright Realty Co. had remodeled the
building for commercial purposes. In
December that year it leased the property “to a client for occupancy,”
according to the Record & Guide, for 21 years at a total rent of $500,000.
By now the stretch of Broadway from Times Square to
approximately 72nd Street was known as “Automobile Row.” Former carriage builders were now
concentrating on the manufacture and sale of motor vehicles; and they
aggregated along Broadway. Nos.
1845-1847 Broadway became home to the Colt-Stratton Company, the east coast
distributor of Dodge motorcars; and to the New York Automobile Dealers’
Association. Part of the ground floor
was leased to Louis Martin, the restaurateur best known for his Café de l’Opera
on Broadway at 41st Street, and his partners the Bustanoby brothers
(who operated the Café des Beaux Arts on West 40th Street), and George
W. Rector.
In March 1920 Russell L. Engs, the owner of Cole motor cars,
purchased the building for $400,000. Six
months later, the restaurant gave up sharing space with an auto showroom. Although the New-York Tribune noted the building “is famous as a restaurant,”
the cafe moved into the space next door at No. 1849 in November that year.
The Sun, February 5, 1919 (copyright expired) |
The Automobile Dealers’ Association had established
its annual Orphan’s Automobile Day in 1904. The 1919 event treated approximately 5,000 children to a day at The Bronx Exposition
and Amusement Park. The New-York Tribune
noted “Each year some man prominent in the automobile industry acts as ‘daddy’
of the day for youngster and pays for the feeding of them. This year, W. C. Durant, of the General
Motors Corporation, will have that honor.”
The newspaper played on the guilt of vehicle owners when it
reported “Although there have been many donations of cars and trucks, there is
still a great shortage, but it is believed that owners of cars and trucks will
rally to the call to provide transportation.”
It added “Otherwise many of them will have to stay at home.”
In the 1920s the building, seen partially at left, retained its balconies and French doors. Another automobile concern operates next door. from the collection of the New York Public Library. |
On October 9, 1920 members of the Automobile Dealers’
Association met for a luncheon here. The
industry was plagued with price reductions and there were fears that factories
would grind to a halt. Ned Jordan gave
the members a pep talk of sorts.
“If you have faith in this country, how can there be any
stoppage of production at this time? It
is impossible for a business of such great proportions to b affected by a
temporary lull.” Jordan pointed out that
in 1910 there were 181,000 passenger cars in the country. In the first six months of 1920 there were
more than a million, and he predicted that number would double by January 1.
The relatively small building may have proved inadequate as
an automobile showroom as the industry grew.
In 1925 architects Chas. N. Jhinston & Bros. were commissioned to
renovate it to, rather ironically, a restaurant and stores on the lower level
and offices above.
In 1941 the United States Army and Navy Union were upstairs
while the ground floor was operated as a funeral home by Feeney Sons Chapels. The following year the School of Creative
Movement moved in. The dance school
created the Garrison Auditorium here where dance recitals were held. In February 1942 the school presented a “studio
demonstration of recreational work, percussion exercise, advanced body
mechanics, elementary and advanced composition.” The school would remain in the building for
at least a decade.
As the middle of the century arrived, space was taken by a
variety of tenants like the Employees Union Local 115 of the C.I.O. which took
a full floor in October 1953, and Alien Communications, Inc., distributors of
audio systems.
While half of the ground floor continued to house a restaurant, the other was home to Francis Fischer’s jewelry store. In April 1950 a man walked in and looked over
the selection of watches. Seemingly tepidly
interested, he promised Fischer that he would come back later to decide on his
purchase.
A week later the same man returned at around 9:30 in the morning. But his approach had changed. He pulled a pistol from his pocket and
ordered Fischer to open the safe. The
terrified jeweler said “There’s no money there—it’s in my pocket,” and handed
over $75.
The thief insisted that he open the safe. But Fischer was either too nervous or was
reluctant to open it. He insisted “I can’t
open it.” The frustrated robber struck
him over the head with his gun and snatched a watch from the counter. He ordered Fischer on the floor and ran out,
escaping in a waiting car. The jeweler
was treated for cuts and bruises at Roosevelt Hospital.
By 1965 Fischer’s jewelry store was run by Felix
Klein as Coliseum Jewelers Company.
Among the tenants upstairs was Camera Mart, Inc., specialists in movie,
television and photography equipment. On
July 9 that year the 54-year old Klein suffered a similar episode to that of
Francis Fischer 15 years earlier.
As Klein opened his shop at 8:30 that morning, two men
pounced, striking him over the head with an ash tray stand. The men escaped with $2,000 worth of
jewelry. Like Fischer, he was treated at
Roosevelt Hospital for head wounds.
Two months later, when plans to construct the 45-story
office building across Broadway on Columbus Circle were disclosed, Felix Klein
was eager to announce his support. He
told a reporter “Soon more people will be working here. This will be a busier street and there will
be less chance of crime. Can you imagine
what it will mean to have thousands of people working across the street?”
The dance studio in the upper floors became an Arthur Murray’s
Dance Studio in the 1970s. Posters in
the mirror-lined room here promised students in 1971 “We Teach You to Be
Somebody.”
In the meantime the restaurant space at street level had become
home to Martin’s Bar and Restaurant.
It was the scene of a shocking murder on December 29,
1980. Although 63-year old house painter
Charles Passiglia lived in Glendale, Queens, he was a regular at Martin’s. There were approximately 20 other patrons there
that night as he sat on a stool at the bar at around 9:10.
A man entered with a shotgun concealed in a plastic
bag. He walked up to Passiglia and fired
one shot into his head. As Passiglia
slumped, then fell to the floor, the other patrons ducked for cover. According to police “The whole thing took
about four seconds.”
Two customers ran out onto Broadway after the gunman and saw
him jump into a waiting Cadillac which drove south on Ninth Avenue. Police told reporters “Nobody could
understand it. They all said he was a
nice, quiet, guy.”
The dance studio went through a series of incarnations including
the Darvash Ballet Studio, the Stepping Out Studio that offered classes in “Ballroom
Olympics,” and Paul Pellicoro’s Dancesport, offering ballroom and Latin classes.
In 1999 the restaurant space became Sapphire, an Indian restaurant
still operating in 2015. Although
Hardenberg’s quaint brick apartment building is heavily altered, its survival
on this stretch of Broadway, lined with towering office buildings, is just
short of miraculous.
photographs by the author
I always remember the building for housing Amy's - a felafel joint. That was in the mid-80's.
ReplyDelete