In 1885, real estate developer William Rankin hired George Keister to design a flat building at 428-430 West 47th Street between Ninth and Tenth Avenues. The five-story structure was completed the following year, its brick-and-stone façade a medley of currently fashionable styles. Above the stoop, with its heavy cast iron railings and newels, the first floor was faced in rough-cut brownstone, an element drawn from Romanesque Revival. The carved brackets, formal entablature and cornice of the entrance, however, were Renaissance Revival in style. Keister added touches of Queen Anne on the upper stories. Here the architrave frames of the openings included stone quoins and cornices. The design was completed with a bracketed cornice with a triangular pediment containing a neo-Classical pressed wreath.
Rankin sold his newly-completed building in April 1886 to Joseph Kucker for $38,000 (about $1.2 million today). Kucker's advertisement on May 16, 1886 in the New York Herald read: "Elegant new flats of four large rooms and bath; private halls; carpeted. No. 428 West 47th st. Can be seen to-day."
Although middle-class, some of the residents of 428 West 47th Street were affluent enough to afford domestic help. A family named Martin had a maid when they moved in in 1886. Two years later, they parted ways. An advertisement in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle read, "Wanted--Situation--As a lady's maid or invalid's nurse; two years' reference. Address Miss S. Dugay, care Mrs. Martin, 428 West Forty-seventh st, New York."
It is possible that "Martin" was actually Martini. In 1890, Frederick J. Martini lived here with his family when he entered the sub-freshman mechanical course at New York City College.
The apartment house was nearly lost on the frigid night of January 14, 1902. Around 9:30 that night, Elizabeth Bauman, the janitress, smelled smoke. She sent her daughter Lena to investigate. The girl followed the scent to the cellar where she discovered the woodbin ablaze and a man fumbling with the door to the outside. William Gallagher managed to get out with Lena close behind screaming for help.
Two policemen arrested Gallagher and brought him back to the apartment house. In the meantime, Elizabeth Bauman had extinguished the fire with several buckets of water. Gallagher protested that he was merely a carpenter and had been doing work in the building. The New York Herald noted, "He appeared slightly intoxicated."
Louise and Joseph Herbet had a rare interracial marriage at the turn of the century. Joseph was described by The New York Times as "a Japanese." In 1901, Louise was diagnosed with epilepsy. By the summer of 1903, according to The New York Times, she had become "extremely despondent." On the morning of July 25, Louise went to the roof. Joseph discovered her just in time to prevent her from jumping.
The Herbets' bedroom opened onto a ventilation shaft. That afternoon, while Louise was lying on the bed by the window, Joseph remained in the room watching over her. The New York Times reported, "While his head was turned, Mrs. Herbet crawled from her bed to the open window and was half way out when Herbert saw her." Joseph ran to the window and caught hold of Louise's kimono. "The woman had gone too far, however, to be stopped, and the piece of the garment which her husband held tore off in his hands as the woman's body dropped to the bottom of the shaft."
Even middle-class families summered away from the city, and the first-floor residents were all "in the country," according to the newspaper. For that reason, it took a while to reach Louise. "Eventually Dr. Whitbeck of Roosevelt Hospital managed to get to her and take her to the hospital," said The New York Times. There was little hope for her recovery, however, "the doctors saying her skull is, in all probability, fractured."
Austin Goodwin lived here in 1905. On the night of September 4 that year, he nearly lost his life in Madison Square after he enraged a group of several hundred homeless men. The men, explained the New York Morning Telegraph, "sleep on benches in the park. After the sun has been down some time they are left unmolested by the police. As a rule they mind their own business and want to be let alone."
The 31-year-old Goodwin, however, decided to have fun at their expense. He "went the rounds, sneaking up and suddenly tipping over each bench and throwing the sleepers sprawling on the sidewalk." The article said after he refused to stop, the men became enraged. "Kick his head off, Bill!" one shouted. "It was the signal, and from all parts of the park ran the crowd, intent on helping Bill to follow the advice of the outraged hobo."
The New York Telegraph said, "There came near being a lynching bee in Madison Square last night." Goodwin was surrounded when several officers arrived to save him from the mob. He was taken to the stationhouse, charged with disorderly conduct. Here he explained, "I am studying the phenomenon of sleep. It interests me to watch men suddenly aroused from the slumbers that is all."
The sergeant replied, "That won't be all in court tomorrow."
As mid-century neared, the architectural details, including the stoop railings and cornice, were intact. image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services
At the time of Goodwin's arrest, Mrs. Florence Bohart, presumably a widow, shared her apartment with 23-year-old Jennie Camden. According to Florence, John H. Morgan, who lived in Westfield, New Jersey, "had been forcing his attentions on Miss Camden for some time." Florence had repeatedly "warned him away." The situation came to a head on Friday night, November 10, 1905.
Florence told officials that Morgan appeared at the apartment "with a revolver in his hand and declared that he would kill the girl if his love was not returned." Morgan most likely did not expect the reaction of the headstrong women. The New York Morning Telegraph reported, "A struggle followed, during which Miss Camden succeeded in getting the weapon away from Morgan." Amazingly by today's viewpoint, he was charged only with carrying a concealed weapon.
By the end of World War I, the building was owned by Julius and Louise G. Hulle. The couple owned "considerable West Side property," according to the New York Herald. Julius, who was a customs agent, died in their apartment on August 20, 1919.
Louise was a semi-invalid and neighbors routinely looked in on her. With her husband gone, she sold all her Manhattan properties other than 428 West 47th Street, and planned to move to Cornwall-on-the-Hudson where her in-laws lived.
Six months after Julius's death, on February 21, 1920, Louise was in the kitchen cooking when, according to the New York Herald, she "tripped over the rubber tube of a lighted stove." The 62-year-old was so "frightened by the roar of the flame that burst from the open end of the tube," that she was unable to scream.
At around 8:00, a neighbor stopped by to see if Louise needed anything. When she opened the door, she created a backdraft. The New York Herald said, "the visitor was almost overcome with the heat." Other neighbors responded to her cries and formed a bucket brigade. They managed to extinguish the flames and turn off the gas. The body of Louise Reiche, who had been unable to flee, was found in the kitchen.
On October 18, 1938, Thomas Davis, who lived in Yonkers, parked his automobile on West 47th Street. When he returned, he discovered 21-year-old Ira Hayes, who lived here, sitting in the driver's seat. The Herald Statesman reported, "When [Davis] sought to question the man, he attempted to draw a .38 caliber revolver from an inside pocket of his coat." Davis yelled for help and two police officers ran to the scene and arrested Hayes. He was sentenced to seven to fourteen years in the state prison for unlawfully possessing a revolver.
The McCann family lived at 428 West 47th Street in 1942. On January 5, their 13-year-old daughter Margaret disappeared. The family was panicked until the night of January 14 when Margaret's uncle, Michael Casey, discovered that her "visit" to his home in Albany was in fact a runaway case. The New York Sun reported that he "turned her over to the Albany police last night when he learned she had run away from home." Margaret's mother traveled to Albany that same night and brought her home.
The Sun reported, "Detective John Noenich of the Missing Persons Bureau, who visited the McCann home this morning, said the girl told her mother she boarded a train and managed to reach Albany without being asked for a ticket." Margaret did not care to share any other details of her adventure.
On May 29, 1953, The Central New Jersey Home News began an article saying, "A siren-screaming, bullet-slinging column of police vehicles raced zig-zag through three miles of Bronx streets yesterday to capture a quartet of bandits." The four armed robbers had just held up Salomon Salberg, the owner of a Bronx diner, and made off with $5,000.
Their getaway car was pursued by police cars and motorcycles which fired at the car. "The bandits returned a fusillade themselves during the chase, some of the bullets crashing through the windshield of a police car." Two of the crooks, Samuel Lepore, who was 27, and 26-year-old Frank E. Curich, lived at 428 West 47th Street.
The driver and mastermind of the holdup was Charles Jetter, who had been employed at the diner. After he was hit in the head by a bullet, the "bullet-riddled car finally smashed into a parked vehicle." Another of the gang, James Sanders, was wounded in the right arm. Neither Curich nor Lepore was injured. They were booked on charges of "assault, robbery, violation of the anti-weapons law, and grand larceny," said the article.
In the last half of the 20th century, the exterior of the building was modernized. The cast iron railings and newels were removed, the undressed brownstone and window surrounds of the first floor plastered over, the cornice taken off, and the brick and stone given a two-tone coat of blue paint.
many thanks to reader Des Herlihy for requesting this post
photographs by the author
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