The development firm of Gordon, Levy & Co. was busy erecting tenement buildings in the late 19th century. On March 6, 1900, architect Charles B. Meyers filed plans for another--a six-story "brick flat" at 256-258 East 10th Street. Completed the following year, it cost Gordon, Levy & Co. $50,000 to erect--about $1.85 million in 2024 terms.
Meyers clad the neo-Renaissance style structure in red brick above a rusticated brownstone base. Unusual for the normally symmetrical style, the entrance was placed off center. Renaissance style carvings decorated the three pilasters that framed the doorway and the flanking window. An elaborate blind cartouche decorated the entablature.
The openings of the second and sixth floors sat within molded architrave frames, while those on the floors in between wore prominent cornices. The pairs of windows on either end of the third and fourth floors wore stepped voussoirs, and those on the fifth floor were joined by arched pediments. A pressed metal cornice completed the design.
An advertisement in The New York World boasted, "New House--Newly decorated, light and large rooms in suites of 3, 4, 5; all improvements; $14, $20." Rent for the most expensive apartments would translate to $740 per month in 2024.
Among the first tenants were the Offerman family. The young couple had a eight-month-old son, Frederick. On the night of January 25, 1901, Josephine Offerman was preparing dinner. Because the tenement did not have electricity, she worked by the light of gas fixtures, augmented by a glass oil lamp. The New York Times reported, "Her son was sitting at a table in a high chair. The lamp was on the table when it exploded. The burning oil ignited the child's clothing."
Josephine tried valiantly to smother the flames, burning herself severely "about the breast, face, and hands" in doing so. Hearing her screams, neighbors summoned an ambulance and Josephine and Frederick were taken to Bellevue Hospital. The little boy died a few hours later.
House painters Daniel Greenberg and Charles Rosenblum both lived here in 1903. On July 12 that year were sent to paint a schoolhouse on Union Street in Brooklyn near the riverfront. It was a dangerous neighborhood. Within the span of few hours, according to Brooklyn Times-Union, "An Italian was shot and dangerously wounded early in the morning. A young Italian woman shot and wounded a man whom she claims jilted her," and "three Italians set upon an Irishman, killing him."
Greenberg and Rosenblum were witnesses to the third incident. They were passing Paul Pensabene's grocery at 28 Union Street when he got into "a row," as worded by the newspaper, with John Bolden, who was making a delivery on the block. Bolden had asked Pensabene to move his ice cream stand from the curb to prevent his cart from damaging it. Pensabene refused.
"Bolden backed his horses up to the curb. The tail end of his truck came in contact with the stand, pushing it inward." Pensabene flew into a rage and he and two other men grabbed the reins of Bolden's horses, attempting to turn the team around. The Times-Union said, "Bolden jumped from his seat and that cost him his life." He was stabbed in the heart by one of the men. Expectedly, Greenberg and Rosenblum were requested to make statements.
The Italian community was plagued by a terroristic group called La Mano Nera, or the Black Hand, at the time. The Italian-American group used violence, including assassinations and bombings, to extort money from well-to-do Italians.
Michael Abagnale, a barber, lived at 256 East 10th Street in 1908. He ran his barbershop in the basement of 210 East 14th Street with Gaetano Bove. Most likely few, if any, of their patrons realized that the two barbers were members of the Black Hand.
In January 1908, Francesco Spinella, described by The New York Times as "a wealthy Italian," began receiving threatening letters. Over the course of a few weeks they demanded sums ranging from $500 to $2,000. Instead of complying, Spinella turned the letters over to detectives.
An especially threatening letter arrived in May. When Spinella did not respond, a bomb blew out the front of a house he owned on East 11th Street, injuring several people. Later, a letter arrived that told Spinella that he now had "a taste" of the Black Hand's vengeance. It told him to leave $500 with "Mike, the barber, at 210 East Fourteenth Street."
An Italian-born detective named Caponi dressed as a laborer and went to Michael Abagnale's barbershop on June 12 for a shave. Shortly afterward, Francesco Spinella came in. He carried an envelope with paper cut to the size of bills. On either side were $6 in marked bills.
"I've got the money," Spinella told Abagnale. "I don't want no more bother."
"You won't be bothered no more," Abagnale answered, as he slipped the envelope into the cash drawer.
The New York Times reported, "Then Caponi jumped from the shaving chair and with the help of two other detectives who entered the shop arrested both men." Michael Abagnale was charged with extortion and Bove with "acting in concert with him."
Resident Hyman Driezan worked as a suitcase maker, as did his brother, Oscar, who lived on Monroe Street. Oscar was a union member and Hyman was not, but the difference did not cause problems until a strike was called early in the spring of 1910. After it had dragged on for ten weeks, Hyman received an anonymous letter warning him that unless he joined the strike, he would be killed. To protect himself, he began carrying a "pocket club" and a revolver to work.
On the morning of July 6, Hyman was intercepted by his brother at Chambers Street and West Broadway. Oscar tried unsuccessfully to persuade him not to go to work while the strike was on. The two got into a heated argument. As it turned out, Oscar, too, was armed with a club and gun. After hitting his brother several times over the head with his club, Oscar shot him twice. The New York Times reported, "Had his aim been true, Oscar Driezan...would have killed his brother, Hyman." Oscar was arrested and charged with felonious assault and carrying concealed weapons.
On May 18, 1917, Congress enacted the Selective Service Act, which enabled the Government to expand the military through conscription. Although the war had been over for several years, the avoidance of the draft was a problem in 1921. On May 15, the military authorities at Governor's Island began publishing a weekly "slacker" list in the local newspapers. On the first list was Joseph Shermann of 256 East 10th Street.
The Communist Party was popular among the working class residents of the Lower East Side and the East Village in the first half of the 20th century. In 1936, six residents of 256 East 10th Street were on the Government's list of registered Communist Party members.
At some point in the second half of the century, 256 East 10th Street lost its cornice, the brownstone was painted red, and details picked out in white. Charles B. Meyers's somewhat eccentric neo-Renaissance facade disguises the colorful history that played out inside.
many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post
photographs by the author
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