The 1871 M. A. Glynn Livery Stable - 224 East 38th Street

 

Built in 1871, the livery stable at 224 East 38th Street was one of a row of similar buildings on what was known as a stable block.  Three stories tall and faced in red brick, it was a fetching commercial example of the Italianate style.  Perhaps to save costs, almost no stone was used in its decoration.  The elliptically arched lintels were executed in brick, as were the double-height piers of the upper section.  They morphed into a handsome corbel table that smacked of a row of icicles hanging from the cornice.

In 1941, the original appearance of the structure survived.  A plaque below the gable announces the date of construction.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

M. Jordan & Co. operated the livery stable in the 1890s.  By World War I, however, horses were almost completely replaced on the streets of Manhattan by motorized vehicles.  In 1918, the building was converted to a garage and repair shop for the Dearborn Truck Sales Company, Inc.  (The firm also leased the building next door at 220-224 East 38th Street, presumably as its showroom.)

New York Herald, June 16, 1918 (copyright expired)

The Dearborn Truck Sales Company, Inc. was based in Chicago.  The New York Herald, on June 16, 1918, called it, "among the pioneers in the manufacture of one and two ton truck units that convert Fords and other makes of cars into substantial one and two ton trucks."

The firm placed an advertisement in The New York Times on September 22, 1918 looking for a salesman "of ability to sell motor trucks; strictly commission; live, wide awake organization; prompt deliveries and efficient services.  Dearborn.  224 East 38th St."

The Dearborn Truck Sales Company's residency here would be extremely short-lived.  On April 6, 1919, an advertisement in The New York Times offered, 

Auto repair shop, service station, fully equipped machine shop; excellent location; satisfactory four-year lease; entire building, three floors, 6,000 square feet; quick action; immediate possession.  224 East 38th St., near 3d Av.

The building was leased by the printing and publishing firm Cameron & Bulkley.  It occupied the upper portion while sub-letting the ground floor to Eifler Brothers, "high grade automobile painting and upholstering."  That firm had a second location in Brooklyn.  Both companies would occupy the building until 1932, when the architectural firm of Bruno Berger & Sons converted the ground floor to a private garage and the upper two to factory space.

Karl P. Billner, a Swedish-born inventor and engineer, established his laboratories on one of the upper floors.  In 1935, he invented vacuum-processed concrete here.  His vacuum chamber removed a significant portion of the water from newly-mixed concrete, resulting in its setting more rapidly.  The U.S. Government tested it for bridge decks, canals and such.  At a "gathering of builders and construction men in his laboratory at 224 East Thirty-eighth Street," according to The Chemistry Leaflet in 1937, Billner suggested that the process offered "a possible solution of one phase of the low-cost housing problem."

In February 1946, Anna R. Crossin sold the former stable to "an electrical contractor [who] intends to occupy part of the premises for his business," according to The New York Sun.  The contractor was the Telephone Answering & Radio Paging Company, which did business as Telanserphone.

It was possibly at this time that the brick was painted and the roofline altered to a triangular gable that stretched end-to-end.

The new owner took one floor, and leased the others to the sales offices of the Gold Seal Company, and Experiment in International Living.  The Chicago-based Gold Seal Company manufactured "Glass Wax," advertised as a "Wartime Chemical Discovery!  Nothing like it anywhere for cleaning glass and metalware."  The Experiment in International Living described itself in 1948 as "a non-profit educational organization which has been promoting mutual understanding among the young peoples of 20 countries since 1932."

Telanserphone performed a much-needed service for professionals like physicians.  In its March 1951 issue, Popular Mechanics explained, "New York doctors who are relaxing at the beach or ball game are kept on continuous call by means of a new radio service."  The subscribers were issued a "small receiver that looks like a hearing aid."  When they were urgently needed, Telanserphone would broadcast a code which was repeated until the subscriber responded by telephone.

An operator working at the Telanserphone offices here in 1951.  Popular Mechanics, March 1951 

The firm was still operating here as late as 1971 (although it was now known as Aircall Radio Paging).  An advertisement that year sought "telephone operators for answering service."  The  round-the-clock enterprise required three shifts of operators working eight-hours.  The ad noted that they would have "alternating weekends" off.

The building as it appeared in 1983.   image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Leasing space in the building that year was Aviation Charter Corporation, a leasing agent for various charter companies.  By 1983, Guest Informant advertising agency operated from the address.

Today, the 153-year-old building is vacant.  The Fire Department has marked the façade with white X's to warn firefighters that the building is in such bad condition that they could face a safety risk upon entering.

photographs by the author

The Much-Altered Belevedere Stables - 727-729 Washington Street

 

On November 29, 1890, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that Francis C. Lawrence, Jr. had purchased "two three-story brick stores and tenements" with two two-story frame dwellings in the rear at 727 and 729 Washington Street.  He paid Robert and Annie E. Pollock $16,000 for the properties, equal to about $553,000 in 2024.  Three years later Lawrence replaced the structures with what the Record & Guide described as a "five-story brick stable."  The Romanesque Revival design featured a symmetrical ground floor with two large, arched carriage bays that flanked two smaller arched openings--a doorway and window.  The windows of the second and third floors were square-headed, while those of the two upper floors were fully arched.  

When photographed on July 20, 1932, the building was essentially intact.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

In January 1894, W. H. Bennett leased 727 and 729 Washington Street, giving as collateral "horses, &c.," as reported by the Record & Guide.  He opened the Belvedere Stables, a substantial livery stable business.  

The operation required a significant staff and consistent hiring.  On August 29, 1899, an advertisement in The World read, "Harness-Cleaner and groom wanted. Stable, 727 Washington st."

Francis A. Lawrence, Jr. made significant updates to the building in 1901.  In January, he hired architect C. A. Donahue to make $3,500 in renovations.  Nine months later, Donahue filed additional plans for "new stalls."  The combined cost of the two projects would equal $196,000 today.

The day-to-day routines of the stable workers was sometimes interrupted by violence.  On March 14, 1906, for instance, The Evening World reported, "John Kock, one of the firm's drivers, was struck on the head with an iron pipe in the stables at No. 727 Washington street."

The following year a shocking incident occurred.  On the night of April 21, 1907, several workers were in the building.  One of them, Joseph Bennett, had been drinking when two men returned a rig they had hired.  The Sun reported, "Bennett and the men got into an argument over the price of the rig and Bennett drew a long butcher's cleaver and rushed on the two."  (The reporter most likely got the implement wrong.  The New-York Tribune called it a "butcher's hook."  In either case it made a formidable weapon.)

The two men fled down Washington Street, but the stable hand was now worked up.  The New-York Tribune said, "Bennett was apparently seized with a fighting mania without any particular reason."  Another employee, Thomas Brennan, heard the uproar and came to see what was happening.  Bennett, who was "wildly enraged," according to The Sun, rushed at him, cutting a long gash in his head.  He then, "proceeded to pound him until he became unconscious."

The noise now attracted a third employee, John Rogers.  The Sun reported, "Rogers came to see what was going on and Bennett also slashed him and beat him into insensibility."  Before losing consciousness, Rogers had screamed for help, drawing a number of passersby to the stable doors.  No one dared enter as Bennett attacked other workers inside, but someone ran for help.

Police soon arrived and Bennett's fury turned on them.  The Sun said, "it was not until he had been knocked out with a nightstick that he was taken."  As Bennett was taken away, the crowd tried to get to him.  "Nightsticks were again drawn, and with the help of additional policemen, Bennett was finally landed in the police station," said the article.

A search was made of the stable.  One worker, Rocco Winchell, was found hiding under a wagon on the third floor.  The New-York Tribune said, "Winchell said he did not hear or see any part of the fight."  The wounded men were taken to St. Vincent's Hospital.  In addition to his scalp wounds, Rogers suffered a broken nose and broken arm.  The most seriously injured was Thomas Brennan, whose skull was fractured.  The New-York Tribune said, "he may die."

In February 1912, the Francis Lawrence estate sold 727-729 Washington Street to Spark L. Dixon for $33,000 (just over $1 million today).  He converted the building to a storage warehouse.  It was most likely at this time that a loading dock was installed at the northern carriage bay.

In 1930, a loading dock filled part of the northern opening.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

The New York Sun reported on September 30, 1936 that the "five-story warehouse at 727-729 Washington street," had been sold to the H. H. Bell Steel Company, Inc.  "The purchaser will occupy the premises after extensive alterations," said the article.

Indeed, the alterations were extensive.  The top three floors were chopped off, the loading dock was bricked shut, and the southern carriage bay was enlarged, its Romanesque arch replaced with a square-headed garage door.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The renovated building was used for storage until 1946, when it was remodeled as factory space for Donnelly, Blanthorn & Co., Inc., a tool and die manufacturing firm.  The building was used as a trade school beginning in 1966, and then became home to the Gothic Color Company by the early 1970s.

Gothic Color Company was owned by Irving Goldman.  His rags-to-riches story started when, according to The New York Times on December 11, 1972, he was "an errand boy for a paint-supply company."  He made deliveries to the Shubert Theater scenic department on Broadway, where sets were constructed.  J. J. Shubert "admired his industry," said the article, "and put up $5,000 to start him in the paint business."    Gothic Color Company had the contracts to supply paints for the scenery for all the Shubert theaters, as well as the Metropolitan Opera House and Radio City Music Hall.  By the time of the article, Goldman was "one of the most powerful men in the legitimate theater" and the city's Commissioner of Cultural Affairs.

But in 1974, Goldman became the target of a Federal grand jury investigation.  On December 24, The New York Times reported he was accused of using family ties "to criminally evade income taxes."

In 1989, architect Steven Mensch and his wife, Pamela Newhouse, purchased 727-729 Washington Street.  In January 1990, the Landmarks Preservation Commission approved a plan to alter the façade and a month later The Villager reported that Mensch "is planning to add another story to the 1893 structure."

Completed in 1992, the renovations were stark.  Mensch mimicked the original configuration of the southern openings in red brick, then chopped away portions of the beige brick facade to give the illusion of a romantic, partial ruin.  The new interior sat back from the facade, creating a courtyard or "loggia," as described by realtors.  The building held office space on the ground floor and a triplex residence above.

In 2009, a three-year project was begun to convert 727-729 Washington Street to a single family home.  While only the partial façade of the 1893 Belvedere Stables survives, it is a striking presence in its Greenwich Village neighborhood.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post.

photograph by the author

Charles See's 1895 200 West 80th Street

Real estate developers Noble & Gauss hired architect Charles See in 1894 to design an ambitious project at the southwest corner of Amsterdam Avenue and West 80th Street--four five-story apartment buildings with stores.  Interestingly, the corner building, with its residential entrance at 200 West 80th Street, stood apart from its fraternal siblings.  Instead of their arched fourth floor openings and dramatic splayed voussoirs at the second floor, its windows were all square-headed.  Only at 200 West 80th Street were decorative spandrels between the third and fourth floors carved with wreaths and ribbons.

Among the initial residents was Civil War veteran General John Hayes, who had served on the staff of General Ulysses S. Grant.  He was now, unfortunately, an alcoholic.  On August 24, 1897, the New York Press began an article saying, "Age, a need for stimulants to make up the waste of nature, and the loss of comrades were the excuses for drunkenness which a tall, soldierly looking man gave to the police yesterday."  The article noted, "He was drunk at Trinity place and Rector street."

The police, who described Hayes as "a man with a brilliant record," would have released him as soon "as sleep would have sobered him" if this had not been his second offense within a week.  And so he was incarcerated for the night.  When asked to confirm for police court records that he was General John Hayes, he responded, "'John Hayes' was near enough to be correct."  The New York Press recounted, "He said that he had reached the stage when he considered stimulants a necessity, and yet had not strength of body to withstand them as he could in the years ago."

The corner building is subtly different from the other three buildings.

The corner store became a James Butler Grocery in 1901, opening on April 6.  The first American chain of grocery stores, this newest branch was the 97th James Butler Grocery Company store. 

In the meantime, Arnold Daly was perhaps the first resident involved in the entertainment industry.  Born on October 4, 1875, he debuted in The Jolly Squire with Fanny Rice in 1892.  He opened in the role of Hamilton Travers in Are You a Mason? at Wallack's Theatre on April 1, 1901.  But his name appeared in newspapers for other than theatrical reasons when Marie Christie, the maid of actress Fay Templeton, called police after a man "poked his cane through a window."

When arrested, Daly initially gave his name as James Reilly, but his true identity was quickly discerned.  The New York Times reported, "He said he had gone to Miss Templeton's house in reference to business, but had not been able to see her."  Why he had resorted to breaking a pane of glass was never explained.

Arnold Daly in the role of Eugene Marchbanks in Candida.  from The American Stage of To-Day, 1910 (copyright expired)

While living here in 1903, Daly introduced American audiences to playwright George Bernard Shaw with his Candida.  It was the first of several Shaw plays in which Daly would appear.  With the emergence of silent films, Daly became a matinee idol known to audiences nationwide.

Also living here was actor Jerome Sykes and his wife, Jessie Wood.  Born in Washington, D.C. in 1868, the well-rounded entertainer was a singer, comedian and actor.  He debuted in Baltimore in The Mikado.  The New York Times described him as being "known for his strength and agility as an athlete.  Though a large man, he was very graceful and an expert dancer."

Jerome Sykes, The Players Blue Book, 1901 (copyright expired)

While living here, Sykes opened in The Billionaire in 1902.  It would be his greatest Broadway success.  Sadly, it would also be the cause of his death.  After playing a year on Broadway, The Billionaire went on the road in 1903, opening at the Illinois Theatre in Chicago.  On Christmas Eve, Sykes hosted a dinner for the cast.  The New York Times said he was "thinly clad during an amateur theatrical performance" that night, and he caught pneumonia.  The 35-year-old died at the Stratford Hotel in Chicago four days later.

The Billionaire closed following Sykes's death.  Ironically, several of the cast members skipped his memorial service on December 30, 1903, going instead to the matinee at the Iroquois Theatre.  A horrendous blaze broke out, killing 602 of the 1,700 patrons, two of whom were The Billionaire cast members.

Coloratura prima donna Julia Allen lived at 200 West 80th Street by 1908.  She arrived in New York around the turn of the century and became soprano at the Church of the Holy Name of Jesus at Amsterdam Avenue and 96th Street.  In June 1903, she debuted in the role of Micaela in Carmen.  Five months later, The Sun titled an article, "This New York Girl A Singer," and said the unknown's "voice and her method of singing attracted favorable attention.  Miss Allen seemed worth finding out about."  The singer traveled to England that summer to study.  On November 1, The Sun reported, "She has no idea of returning to her own country until she has made a reputation in all the European countries."

Having done that, she returned to New York and moved into 200 West 80th Street.  In 1908 she was a member of the Italian Grand Opera Co.

The building became the scene of what the Daily News called "a bizarre murder mystery" in 1938.  The night of January 19 was described by the newspaper as "one of the Winter's coldest nights."  Mrs. Amelia Holm, who lived on the fifth floor, heard footsteps on the roof at around 4 a.m., "followed by a rattling of ropes and a crash," said the article.  Around the same time, nine-year-old Theresa D'Arcy, whose family lived in the basement apartment, was awakened by cries of help.

The building superintendent, Louis Mielitez, had left the large dumbwaiter on the fifth floor.  The following afternoon, at around 4:00, he discovered it was in the basement with its rope off the pulley.  The North Shore Daily Journal reported on January 20, "On the roof of the box-like compartment, police found [an] overcoat and suitcoat, neatly folded."  There were also a derby hat and another coat, also neatly folded.  When the dumbwaiter was raised, the body of 40-year-old Ruland Thompson was discovered.  He was described by the North Shore Daily Journal as a "sales executive and member of a wealthy Manhasset family."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

The Yale-educated Thompson, who was recently estranged from his wife, was living in the Tudor Hotel.  The Daily News said, "To fall into the shaft accidentally would be impossible.  Tenants told of hearing the cry of 'Help!' three times at 4 A. M. yesterday.  They also heard footsteps on the roof, followed by a crash.  But no one investigated, they told police."  Despite the wide-spread coverage of the mysterious murder, it does not appear that the case was ever solved.

Born later that same year, Dorothy Pitman Hughes was living here by the third quarter of the century.  The indefatigable woman was a feminist, child-welfare advocate, author, entrepreneur, and activist.  She organized New York City's first shelter for abused women; co-founded the New York City Agency for Child Development; and with Gloria Steinem founded the Women's Action Alliance.  In 1972, she signed the Ms. magazine campaign, "We Have Had Abortions," which demanded an end to "archaic laws" that limited reproductive freedoms.  

Gloria Steinem and Dorothy Pitman Hughes in 1971.  Dan Wynn Archive and Farmani Group, Co.Ltd

In her 2000 book Wake Up and Smell The Dollars!  Whose Inner City is This Anyway!, Hughes includes several letters addressed to her at 200 West 80th Street from the likes of Hubert Humphrey, Hugh L. Carey, and Charles S. Rangel.

While its storefronts have been brutalized over the decades, 200 West 80th Street retains its architectural integrity after nearly 130 years.

photographs by the author

no permission to reuse the content of this blog has been granted to LaptrinhX.com

The Lost Union Dime Savings Bank - Sixth Avenue and Broadway

 

Real Estate Record & Guide Supplement, June 25, 1898 (copyright expired)

Founded in 1859, the Union Dime Savings Institute started out in unassuming offices at Canal and Varick Streets.  Eight years later, it moved to larger quarters at Canal and Laight Street.  Then, in October 1874, despite the country's being mired in the crippling Financial Panic of 1873, the trustees laid bold plans--to move the bank northward to the trapezoidal plot facing the small park that would be named Greeley Square in 1892.

Thirty-six-year-old Stephen Decatur Hatch was given the commission to design the new building.  The architect had designed the elaborate, Second Empire style Gilsey House Hotel three blocks to the south on Broadway in 1868.  He turned to the popular style again for the Union Dime Savings Bank building.

On September 30, 1876, The New York Times reported on the progress of construction, saying the "large and commodious building at the junction of Broadway, Sixth-ave., and Thirty-second-st...when completed, will be an ornament to the upper part of the city."  The article predicted the cost of construction to be $250,000, and said the figure would have been much higher had the economic conditions not drastically cut labor costs.  The Sun chimed in, saying the cost of the land was $275,000, "making the total outlay $525,000."  That figure would translate to about $15.4 million in 2024.

Five floors tall above a basement level, the building was clad in Westchester marble.  "There are also seventeen large pillars of polished Nova-Scotia stone placed on the three sides of the building, which lend a grace and beauty to the whole exterior," said the article.  A three-story, six-sided clock tower wore crown-like, cast iron cresting.  Upon its completion, The Sun described the Union Dime Savings Bank building on January 22, 1877 as "by far the finest structure of the kind in the city."

Nine months after opening in its new home, rumors began circulating that the bank's costly marble palace had overstretched its resources.  On October 24, 1877, the New York Herald said, "The story that the new building was 'too heavy to carry' was repeated with certain additions."  The rumors turned to panic and the New York Herald headlined the article, "Panic-Stricken Depositors Make a 'Run' on a Savings Bank."  The article said that long before opening, "a large crowd of anxious depositors had congregated in the vicinity of the bank and lined the sidewalk opposite, skirting the little garden park at the junction of Sixth avenue and Broadway at Thirty-second street."  Police had to be called in to control the near-riot.

The Sixth Avenue Elevated had opened by 1889 when this photo was taken.  King's Handbook of New York City (copyright expired)

The following day, the New York Herald ran a one-line article, saying, "The run on the Union Dime Savings Bank showed no signed of abatement, and will probably be renewed this morning, notwithstanding the confident assurances of its officers."  Eventually, reason ruled and on November 30 the newspaper concluded an article saying, "The Union Dime's directors are in a pretty safe condition, but there is no margin for wild investment."

Just under three decades after opening its doors, on August 7, 1906 The New York Times reported that the Union Dime Savings Bank had sold the property for $1 million (equal to nearly $35 million today).  The trustees had purchased a plot at 40th Street and Sixth Avenue as its new home.  The article said, "The bank will continued to occupy its property at Broadway and Thirty-second Street until May, 1908."

The majestic structure was worthy of its own stereoscope slide.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

In fact, the bank did not move out until February 1910 when its new structure was completed.  In the meantime, the property had been resold.  On February 27, 1910, The New York Times reported, "The new English owners will not take title to the old Union Dime building until May 1.  Rumors that the edifice was to be torn down were set at rest yesterday when a representative of the company stated that it was not the intention of the owners to make any improvement for five years at least."

The majestic marble structure survived until 1928.  On November 4, The New York Times published an article on the flurry of construction going on in the district.  It said in part that a project that "will probably not be long delayed, will be the demolition of the old Union Dime Savings Bank Building."  The article commented, "This has long been one of the interesting landmarks of the city."

The article had predicted correctly.  The Union Dime Savings Bank Building was demolished to be replaced by a seven-story, Art Deco commercial building designed by Starrett & Van Vleck which survives.

photo by acronson

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The William Henry Knapp House - 65 Bedford Street

 

In the mid-1830s, a row of nearly identical brick-faced homes was erected on the west side of Bedford Street between Morton and Commerce Streets.  Each two-and-a-half stories tall, their Federal design included prim dormers at the attic level.  No. 65 was sold to Justus Earle around 1835.  Sitting above a brownstone basement, its entrance was especially handsome, with narrow sidelights and paneled pilasters flanking the door under an ample transom.  Earle apparently purchased the house as an investment property.  He and his family lived at 46 Cortlandt Street and rented 65 Bedford Street.

By the early 1850s, William Henry Knapp and his family lived here, taking in boarders.  Knapp was a tailor whose shop was at 823 Broadway.  In 1855, George W. Backus, who owned a livery stable; and Joseph A. Starr and his family lived with the Knapps.  Starr was a butcher whose shop was on Warren Street near the North (or Hudson) River.  The tight quarters within the house were suggested by Starr's advertisement in the New York Herald two years later.

Board Wanted--For a gentleman, his wife, one child and sister-in-law, in a private family; west side of the city, below Bleecker street, preferred; will furnish their own rooms; partial board for the gentleman.  Address, stating terms and location, J. A. Starr, 65 Bedford street, New York.

Starr's mentioning that his family would supply their own furnishings is rather surprising.

William Knapp and his wife had at least one son, Charles Henry, who was attending a public school in 1858.  The family remained here through 1860, after which Charles W. Lord moved in.  

An educator, Lord taught in the boys' department of School No. 38 on Clarke Street near Broome.  He lived at 65 Bedford Street for nearly a decade.  Then, in 1869, after the Knapps left, the residence became a middle-class boarding house.  Among the residents in 1870 and 1871 were Stephen B. Smith, a policeman, and Willard Badger.  

The residents were no doubt thrown into panic when Willard Badger was diagnosed with small pox in 1871.  He was removed to the Small Pox Hospital on Blackwell's Island where he died in February 1872.  That spring he posthumously became involved in an investigation by The New York Times into "the abuses said to exist at the Small Pox Hospital."  An investigative reporter interviewed a number of persons who had business with the institution.  The journalist reported on April 18, 1872, "Much of the scandalous chicanery here exposed is due to the existence of an undertaker's 'ring,' which covers the institutions on Blackwell's Island."  

The reporter interviewed A. J. Case, who had removed Badger's body to Evergreen Cemetery on February 19, 1872.  He said that he was compelled "to pay $5 as fees to the Island and Morgue men," before the coffin was released.  (The fee would translate to about $125 in 2024.)

Most likely restricted by the size of the house, the proprietors never took in more than three boarders at a time.  In 1876 they were William H. Hanlon, a carpenter; casemaker Franklin Hebbard (casemakers constructed packing crates); and Daniel Putney, a broker whose office was at 4 Hanover Square.

Around 1879, Thomas Hulbert purchased 65 Bedford Street.  Hulbert was a "currier," or hide tanner, and he and his wife, Susanna, continued to take in one or two boarders at a time.  (Daniel Putney continued living there through 1880.)

On a cold night in 1883, the Hulberts' boarder William Roberts had a narrow escape.  He was coming home about 11:00 on January 16 when "near his home," according to The Sun, he "was accosted by a man who begged for the price of a night's lodging."  Roberts took out his purse to give him money, at which point the man grabbed the purse.  "Roberts resisted," said the article, "whereupon his assailant shot him in the left leg, and then ran away with the purse."  Roberts was taken to St. Vincent's Hospital where he was treated.  He lost his purse containing the equivalent of $141.00 today.

Johanna C. Muller lived here in 1899.  The widow, who was 89 years old, fell down the staircase on June 25 that year, receiving a "concussion of the brain."  Her injuries were too much for the aged woman, and she died six days later.

Dr. Gertrude N. Light occupied 65 Bedford Street in the early years of the new century.  She was a member of the Women's University Club.  At a time when women in the medical profession--other than nurses--were still relatively rare, Dr. Light was appointed a sanitary inspector by the city in December 1902.  Sanitary inspectors, for the most part, visited tenements and reported on infectious diseases and unhealthful conditions.  She was listed at 65 Bedford Street at least through 1904.

At the time, Greenwich Village was the epicenter of Manhattan's artistic community.  Following World War I, scores of vintage houses were altered to accommodate artists' studios, with vast windows that captured natural light.  In 1925, engineer Guy W. Culgin was hired to renovate 65 Bedford Street.  The attic was raised to a full floor with a wall of glass that flooded the interior with light.

There were now two "non-housekeeping" apartments in the basement (meaning they had no kitchens), one apartment on the parlor floor, and two each on the second and third.  An advertisement offered:

Comfortable apartments, remodeled, strictly first class; steam heat, all conveniences; 1 room, tiled bath, closet, $50; 2 rooms, bath, housekeeping, $75 up; ideal for business people or couples.

The parlor floor apartment was, understandably, the most expensive.  In 1925 it was advertised as "large apartment, whole floor, about 5 rooms, including small kitchen, $125."  The rent would translate to $2,175 per month today.

Among the initial residents were newlyweds Francis Richard Borroum Godolphin and his bride Isabelle Simmons.  The couple was married on July 25, 1925 and on October 14 The Princeton Alumni Weekly announced they "are now living at 65 Bedford St., New York City, where Frisco is again teaching Latin and Greek at N.Y.U., studying for his Ph.D. at the same time."

Francis Richard Borroum Godolphin, from the coll3ection of the Rutgers School of Arts & Sciences.

Born in Del Rio, Texas on April 8, 1903, "Frisco" Godolphin graduated magna cum laude from Princeton in 1924.  Two years after moving into the Bedford Street house, he and Isabelle relocated to New Jersey where he joined the Princeton staff.  He would go on to become dean and professor of classics there, and the author of numerous academic works, including the 1942 The Greek Historians and The Latin Poets, published in 1949.

Another erudite resident was Irma Vanderbeck, who lived here in 1927.  A member of the National Pan-Hellenic Congress, she was the editor of  The Dial, a magazine that promoted modernist literature. 

Author, political staffer and journalist Billy Lee Brammer moved into an apartment here in January 1960.  In her 2018 Leaving the Gay Place, Billy Lee Brammer and the Great Society, Tracy Daughtery noted that shortly after moving in, he wrote to his future wife, Nadine Ellen Cannon, "The Village is pleasant and not exactly the wicked and reckless place it is advertised to be."

Billy Lee Brammer in 1966, photo by Bob Simmons.

Born in Dallas, Texas in 1929, he would later serve on the staff of Senator Lyndon Baines Johnson.  His novel The Gay Place was published in 1961.

A renovation completed in 1987 resulted in "class A" apartments (meaning they required leases).  In 2011 the house was remodeling to a two-family home.

photograph by the author

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The Benjamin G. Disbrow House - 123 West 130th Street

 

In January 1885, the architectural firm of Cleverdon & Putzel filed plans for four neo-Grec style houses at 117-123 West 130th Street for developer Samuel O. Wright.  The Record & Guide mentioned that three of the "brown stone houses" would be 19-feet wide, while one would be a foot narrower.  

No. 123 West 130th Street, like its identical siblings, featured impressive architrave window frames with prominent sills and cornices.  The double-doored entrance sat within an engaged portico with Tuscan columns that upheld an imposing entablature decorated with carved designs.  

Benjamin G. and Sarah M. Disbrow purchased 123 West 130th Street on May 1, 1890.  The couple had four adult sons, Griffin B., George A., Dr. Robert N., and Charles A.  Benjamin would not enjoy his home for long, dying on March 19, 1892.

Disbrow's death created a contentious rift in the family.  On October 16, 1892, The New York Sun headlined an article, "Mr. Disbrow Left Two Wills."  One will was executed on February 7, 1891 and the other on January 18, 1892.  The first left Sarah "the income of certain property for life," and gave Griffin "$1,500 and some furniture in the family residence."  He and George (who received the upright piano) were given the bulk of the estate.  Their brothers, Charles and Robert, each received $4,500 (about $155,000 in 2024).  The will explained, "I have not given more of my property to my two sons, Charles and Robert, on account of their undutiful conduct to my wife and to me."

A month before their father's death, Charles and Robert had apparently made amends and he had written the second will.  Now Griffin and George faced off in court against their brothers and their wives.  They contested the second will, alleging "undue influence" of their brothers "while Mr. Disbrow was in feeble health and of unsound mind."  Robert and Charles simultaneously contested the first will.

Within a month, things got more complicated (and heated).  On November 16, The Evening World reported that two more wills had been discovered.  "The Disbrow family was apparently full of discord, and Benjamin made four wills during the last year of his life," said the article, which predicted, "a fight over the disposition of his property...bids fair to continue many months."

The property that was to provide Sarah income for life was a rental building at 108th Street and Lexington Avenue.  And that, too, resulted in family drama.  Griffin managed the property for his mother.  Five years after her husband's death, Sarah sued to have Griffin removed as trustee.  Her lawyer said he "employed himself as agent to collect the rents and has paid himself for such services."  In addition, Griffin told his mother that repairs to the building "ate up all the profits," according to The World on November 14, 1897.  

Griffin and Sarah would face off once again three years later.  On November 8, 1900, The New York Times reported, "A somewhat remarkable controversy between a mother and her son recently received final decision in the Court of Appeals."   On April 27, 1892, a month after Benjamin Disbrow's death, Sarah transferred title to 123 West 130th Street to Griffin "in consideration of love and affection and the sum of one dollar."  Then, in 1897 she sued to reverse the transfer.  The judge at the time ruled, "Mrs. Disbrow was unquestionably misled as to the nature and effect of the instrument."

Griffin appealed.  On November 7, 1900, the court ruled that although, "she was an inexperienced woman, and she leaned upon her son Griffin," there was no evidence that he had exerted undue influence.  The judges, reported The New York Times, "were constrained" to return ownership of the house to Griffin.

Sarah M. Disbrow moved to the Brooklyn home of her son, Robert.  She died there on May 23, 1912 at the age of 82.

Former Tammany Hall leader and Supreme Court Justice Peter Aloysius Hendrick and his wife, the former Julia Sherwood, lived at 123 West 130th Street at least through 1907.  Born in Penn Yan, New York in 1858, Hendrick came to New York in 1887 and "for a time [was] personal counsel to Charles F. Murphy," the Tammany boss.  He was appointed to State Supreme Court in 1906 earning the equivalent of $612,000 per year in today's money.

The Hendricks were followed in the house by William J. Farrell.  He was president of the William J. Farrell Company, described by The New York Times as "one of the largest dealers in dressed poultry, butter, and eggs in the city."  

Farrell, who was unmarried, was at Fort Covington, New York on June 18, 1919, when he suffered a "stroke of apoplexy," according to The New York Times.  (The term referred to what today is known as a stroke.)  The article said, "Specialists from New York were rushed to his bedside, but they could do nothing for him."

The house was inherited by Annie M. Farrell and Mary Ellen Higgins, presumably his sisters.  They sold it in April 1921 to Samuel and Florette Graham.  Samuel died nine months later, on January 20, 1922.

In 1941, the stoop railings and newels survived.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In 1941 the house was converted to unofficial apartments.  Among the initial residents were Alice and Samuel Simmons.  Samuel left to fight in World War II, and on February 23, 1946, The New York Age reported that Alice, "has been informed that her husband, Samuel has been promoted to the grade of corporal.  He is serving as a dispatcher with the 810th Engineer Aviation Battalion near Manila."

By the turn of the 21st century, the once-proud house was operated as a single-room-occupancy building.  Then, a renovation completed in 2004 resulted in a three-family residence.

photograph by the author

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The Gustavus and Carrie Maas House - 130 East 72nd Street

 

In March 1881, developer John Graham & Sons commissioned prolific architect John G. Prague to design four upscale homes on the south side of East 72nd Street between Lexington and Park Avenues.  Prague was taking a step away from his familiar turf.  He is best remembered today for the hundreds of homes he designed on Manhattan's West Side. 

Each of the 20-foot wide, four-story homes cost $20,000 to construct (about $615,000 in 2024).  Atop the high stoops were prominent porticos supported by square, paneled columns.   The fascia panels between the scrolled brackets of the cornices were elaborately carved.

In March 1883, John Graham sold 130 East 72nd Street to Charles Stern and his wife, the former Amelia Metzler.  Born in Germany in 1831, Stern came to New York as a young man and opened a wine business.  By now he was one of the largest wine importers in the country.  He and Amelia had four children, Alfred, Louise, Emily and Josephine.

In 1896, the Sterns moved to Los Angeles, California.  They sold 130 East 72nd Street to Gustave Maas for $30,500 on April 29.  (The price would translate to about $1.14 million today.)  Maas was born in Frankfurt, Germany in May 1850.  He had married Caroline (known as Carrie) Heimerdinger in Vienna Hall on Lexington Avenue and 54th Street on November 27, 1884.  Shortly after moving in, Gustave transferred title to the property to Carrie.

The couple had three daughters, Manuela F., who was eight years old in 1896; and twins Edith Helen and Catherine, who were five.  Also living in the house was Gustave's widowed mother, Rachel Regina Ochs Maas.  (In 1899, another daughter, Agnes C. would arrive.)

Gustave and Carrie immediately hired architect Hugo Koehler to make improvements to the house.  His plans, filed in June 1896, called for new plumbing and increasing the height of the rear extension by one story.  The extensive renovations cost the owners the equivalent of $374,000 today.

Rachel Regina Maas died on February 12, 1900 at the age of 79.  Her funeral was held in the drawing room three days later.

Like many well-to-do New Yorkers, the Maas family had made the switch from carriages to motorcars by 1907.  That year, on March 31, their chauffeur, Eugene Bugnet, was "caught by Policeman Cunningham at 136th Street and St. Nicholas Avenue," according to The New York Times.  Bugnet was arrested for speeding the touring car at 18 miles per hour.

On August 20, 1911, the New York Herald reported on Manuela's engagement to Edward Necarsulmer.  The article noted, "Mr. and Mrs. Maas have a villa in West End, and their home in New York is at No. 130 East Seventy-second street."  (West End was an upscale community of Long Branch, New Jersey.)  A graduate of the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris, Manuela's fiancé was an architect.  Among his works was the Hebrew Infant Asylum of New York.  The couple was married on November 20.

Having an architect in the family had its advantages.  On July 25, 1913, Necarsulmer filed plans for a massive renovation to the Maas house.  Inside, an elevator was installed.  Outside, John G. Prague's Victorian design was transformed into a modern, American basement dwelling.  

Taking a page from the book of Frederick Junius Stern, well-known for remodeling outdated brownstones to up-to-date, often fanciful residences, Necarsulmer removed the stoop and lowered the entrance to street level.  As Stern often did, he slathered the façade with stucco and gave the openings jagged brick surrounds.  At the second floor he installed charming leaded and stained-glass windows, and gave the third floor a romantic hooded oriel with faux balconies.

The original appearance of 130 East 72nd Street can be seen in the as-yet unaltered house to the right in 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The Maas family remained here until March 1922, when they sold the house to attorney Mortimer Henry Hess and his wife, the former Marion Newman.  The couple had one son, Mortimer, Jr.

Born in July, 1889, Hess was an expert in tax, estate and trust laws.  He earned his law degree from Columbia University in 1911 and began practicing law in 1913.  A co-founder of the law firm of Hess, Segall, Popkin & Guterman, he was, as well, the chairman of the law committee of Temple Emanu-El.

Like many other socialites, Marion Hess turned her focus from teas and receptions to public service during World War II.  Hers, however, was a bit surprising.

On December 7, 1943, The New York Sun began an article saying, "If there is a particle of waste fat floating around in any household in Greater New York Mrs. Mortimer H. Hess means to have it."  She had discovered that common cooking fats could be used to make glycerin, which went into the manufacturing of munitions.  The article said,

And so that no New York housewife can live in her ivory tower, remote from needs of the hour and forgetting that our fighting forces must have that used fat to keep them supplied with war materials, Mrs. Hess has enlisted a special committee which will pound home the message that every drop of fat is worth salvaging.

The Sun called Marion "a pretty unusual person."  Among the traits that set her apart, said the article, was her ability to keep the same live-in maid for 29 years.  

At the time of the article, the four 1882 houses still retained the restrictive covenants in the deeds that demanded they be used only as private dwellings.  A judge, on April 27, 1940, had ruled, "The court has considered the fact that this restriction might be removed by the consent of all four owners."

By the second half of the century, that consent had been reached.  In 1964, 130 East 72nd Street was converted to apartments.  A duplex in the basement and first floor shared part of the lower section with a doctor's office, and each upper story held one apartment.

Unfortunately, the once-contrasting brick has been painted the same white as the stucco, seriously detracting from Edward Necarsulmer's picturesque design.

photographs by the author

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