The Edgar and Sarah Lasak House - 224 East 32nd Street

photograph by Anthony Bellov

In the 1850s New York City had expanded northward into the Kips Bay district.  Around 1855, a trio of Anglo-Italianate-style rowhouses was completed on East 32nd Street between Second and Third Avenues.  The 16-foot wide homes were faced in brownstone and their rusticated bases featured fully arched openings.  Cast iron balconies ran the width of the second floors, and graceful molded lintels sat upon the elliptically arched upper floor windows.

Born in 1827, Edgar F. Lasak was a partner with his father in the fur business F. W. Lasak & Son.  He lived with his parents, Francis W. and Harriett D. Lasak, in their mansion at 292 Fifth Avenue until his marriage to Sarah Wright Seaman on April 24, 1855.  Edgar took his bride to 130 East 32nd Street--the middle house of the newly built trio.  (The address would be changed to 224 in 1865.)

The couple's only daughter, Margaret Seaman, was born in February 1856.  The three did not fill the house, and an advertisement that year offered rooms to let in the "new English basement" residence.  Their tenants in 1859, Francis M. and Kate S. Randell, suffered a painful loss.  Their daughter, Mariana, died at the age of one-and-a-half on April 29.

The Lasaks left East 32nd Street in 1862, after which the residence was operated as a boarding house.  Living here in 1863 were William Elmer and Catharine E. Poole, W. Cavener, and Benjamin B. Dewitt.  Dewitt did not list a profession, suggesting he was retired.

Sadly, as had been the case with the Randells, on February 6, 1863 William and Catharine Poole's one-a-half-year-old son, William Elmer Poole, Jr., died here.  His funeral was held in the parlor on February 8.

Six months later, W. Cavener's name was drawn in the Union Army's draft lottery.  

The house became a private home when it was purchased by Joseph Seaich and his wife, the former Maria Griffith, in 1864.  The couple had three children, Joseph Jr., Williams, and M. Adelaide, who was born in 1861.  (Williams would later join his father's business.)

Born in 1811 in London, Joseph Seaich worked as a boy in the United States Hotel.  Then, in 1836, he started a carriage line taking freight and passengers from the railway stations and boat landings to hotels.  In 1857, Seaich opened a "large carriage stable," as described by The New York Times, on East 32nd Street.  The newspaper would later said, "While the Prince of Wales, the Duke Alexis, and other notables were in this country, Mr. Seaich supplied them with coaches."  By the time he moved his family into the East 32nd Street house, he had moved his business to East 82nd Street.  

In 1869, the Seaich family moved to 47 East 31st Street.  As was common at the time, rather than moving their things, they sold all the furnishings at auction.  The announcement on April 13, 1869, listed expensive items like a Decker pianoforte, "rich rosewood Parlor Suits, in silk reps," a marble top etagere, and marble top tables.

The house was purchased by Augustus L. Rapp, a dealer "in fancy woods and veneers."  He leased it to Mrs. Mary A. Howell, a widow, who operated it as a rooming house.  An advertisement in the New York Herald on December 8, 1870 offered, "Furnished Rooms to let, to gentlemen; also a suit for a quiet couple, with breakfast for gentlemen if desired; house neatly furnished and convenient to [street] cars."  (Why females were not offered breakfast is unclear.)

Mary A. Howell's roomers in 1872 were Merwin Deveau, Dr. J. Fitzgerald O'Connor, and George H. and Anna Bond Healy.  

That year Augustus L. Rapp made renovations to the house.  He explained to a judge later, "a cellar was built under the front part of my house; we dug out and built it."  Among the workmen on the project was George Rose, a mason.  On June 3, he left his wheelbarrow on the sidewalk.  The New York Times reported, "A number of mischievous boys rolled away the barrow several times."  Rose lost patience with the urchins and when he finally caught them moving his wheelbarrow, he "seized an ax and flung it at the nearest group of boys."  

The ax struck Henry Burke, who was five-and-a-half years old.  The little boy was not part of the gang, but was merely in the path of the flying weapon.  Henry fell to the pavement with a fractured skull.  Realizing what he had done, George Rose tried to leave, but the large group of adult witnesses stopped him.  He "was compelled by the witnesses...to carry the boy into the nearest drug store," said The New York Times.  Rose later took him to Bellevue Hospital where Henry Burke died.

Rose was arrested for manslaughter.  In court on December 18, he swore that he "threw up his arms in order to frighten the boys from the wheelbarrow, when the ax slipped from his grasp accidentally, and struck [the] deceased."  The testimonies of the numerous witnesses refuted his story.  Rose was convicted and sent to prison for a year.

Mary A. Howell leased the house from Rapp until 1880.  It continued to be operated as a rooming house by its new proprietor, Kate Howard.  

Among her roomers in 1887 was the Krause family.  On August 12, 1887, 16-year-old George W. Krause was run over by a furniture van driven by Alfred Dorche.  The New York Times reported that Dorche, "injured him so badly that he died shortly afterward."  Dorche was arrested for manslaughter.  

An inquest was held on August 19.  Former alderman Charles B. Waite had witnessed the accident.  The New York Herald reported, "Mr. Waite said that he came 300 miles from Essex to testify that he saw the accident, and that in his opinion the driver, Alfred Dorche...was not to blame."  The article concluded, "The jury exonerated the driver."

via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The house continued as a rooming house into the Depression years.  Andrew T. Hoffman lived here in 1936 when he suffered a gruesome death.  He was in New Jersey on March 29 when he was "struck by a Pennsylvania Railroad train in Hamilton Township," according to The New York Times.  The article said, "A briefcase near the body contained religious tracts.  He was about 35 years old."

Carol Drosdick, who lived here in 1938, was described by The New York Sun as "an attractive brunette."  The 24-year-old worked as a waitress and was dealing with a stalker--a former boyfriend.  On July 18, Carol and her sister, Helen, were on their way to Brooklyn to visit another sister.  On the 34th Street subway platform, Carol's stalker approached.  He insisted that she go with him instead of accompanying Helen.  "Angrily she ordered him to go away," reported The Sun.

The former boyfriend pulled out a knife and began stabbing her.  He slashed her on the hand, the left shoulder and the lower part of her back.  "As she fell to the platform, her assailant fled up the stairs into the street and disappeared," said the article.  Carol was treated at St. Vincent's Hospital.  Whether her attacker (whose name was withheld) faced justice is unclear.

A renovation completed in 1961 resulted in two duplex apartments.  One of them was home to film maker and photographer Ralph Steiner and his wife, Caroline.  Steiner was born in Cleveland, Ohio in 1899.  While living here, he created eight films under the grouping "The Joy of Seeing."  

Ralph Steiner created this self-portrait (what today would be called a selfie) around 1930.  from the collection of MoMA

On September 16, 1962, The New York Times reported that Steiner had announced the establishment of "The Photographs' Centre," described as "a nonprofit organization for teaching, lectures, print exhibits and services for photographers."  Steiner headed the new organization.

Following Steiner's death in 1986, Ann Hoy of the International Center of Photography called him "a key figure in winning vanguard status for photography comparable to such painting movements as Cubism, Futurism and Constructivism and the last of the American Modernist photographers."

photograph by Anthony Bellov

A renovation completed in 2005 returned 244 East 32nd Street to a single family home.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

The 1900 Albert Goldman Mansion - 305 West 105th Street

 

In 1899, real estate developer Hamilton W. Weed broke ground for four upscale residences on the north side of West 105th street between Riverside Drive and West End Avenue.  Designed by Janes & Leo in an A-B-B-C configuration, they were completed the following year.  Among the B models was 305 West 105th Street.  Clad in Flemish bond brick and trimmed in limestone above an ashlar base, its French Beaux Arts design included a two-story, faceted oriel behind a balustrade at the second and third floors.  The central window of the second floor wore a triangular pediment that engulfed a large, layered keystone.  The understated fifth floor sat above a bracketed metal cornice.

Real estate operator Albert Brod purchased three of the houses for resale.  He sold No. 305 to Albert and Augusta Goldman in May 1901.  Goldman sat on the board of directors of the Mutual Chemical Company of Jersey City and of the Tartar Chemical Co.  He and Augusta had three children, Harry, Sophie and Lillian.

John C. Umberfield lived with the family briefly, listed here in 1904.  A prolific builder and developer, many of the structures he erected were on the Upper West Side.

Sophie and Lillian Goldman had lofty ambitions for young women in the first years of the 20th century.  At a time when female attorneys were nearly unheard of, in 1911 Sophie was enrolled in the Woman's Law Class of New York University.  Her sister would graduate from the Law Class, as well.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Augusta Goldman died in the mansion on August 10, 1914.  Sophie and Lillian took over the management of the house.  When well-to-do families closed their townhouses for the summer, the staff was often let go, to be replaced in the fall.  On June 26, 1916, a notice in The New York Times read: "Cook--Lady closing house for Summer, wishes situations for her cook and chambermaid, waitress.  305 West 105th St."

As early as 1920, both sisters were members of the Portia Club.  A women-only group, it was founded in 1895 and focused on social and intellectual activities.  Sophie was also a member of the Woman's Forum, a group composed of female lawyers, social workers, doctors and other professionals.  While partly a social club, the Woman's Forum also held civic discussions and events.

By then, Harry was gone from West 105th Street.  An advertisement in the New York Herald on March 23, 1920 reflected Albert's German origins: "Cook, competent, for private house, family three adults; city references required; German or Austrian preferred."

Interestingly, another builder-developer lived with the Goldmans shortly after that ad.  Hugh Getty was described by the Record & Guide as "one of the best known builders of New York City."  Born in Ireland in 1849, he came to New York at the age of 18 and "erected a number of business buildings in this city, several hotels and a number of handsome residences," said the journal.  Getty died in the house at the age of 73 on December 3, 1922.

The Goldmans had a serious scare in the spring of 1926.  Around the turn of the century, the Consolidated Gas Company established a "Pulmotor Crew" to resuscitate victims of escaping fumes from "imperfect gas fixtures and unsatisfactory, antiquated or neglected house pipes," as described by Gas Logic.  In March 1926, the Goldmans' neighbor, Dr. B. S. Bookstaver, who lived across the street at 304 West 105th Street, wrote a letter to the Consolidated Gas Company that said in part:

I extend my sincerest thanks for the help your Pulmotor crew have given me today in saving the life of Albert Goldman of 305 West 105th Street at 8:30 A.M. from accidental gas asphyxiation.

On April 21, 1929, Goldman's death was announced in an extremely succinctly worded notice in The New York Times:  "Goldman, Albert, at his late residence.  305 West 105th St. Funeral private."

The mansion was converted to apartments, two per floor, in 1940.  Among the residents as early as 2006 was Tony Award winning actress Betty Buckley.  Born in Texas in 1947, she made her mark on Broadway, film and television, earning her Tony as Grizabella in the original Broadway production of Cats in 1983.  While living here she sang "Memory" from Cats at the Kennedy Center Honors in December 2006, in tribute to Andrew Lloyd Webber.

Externally, little has changed to 305 West 105th Street since the Goldman family moved in nearly 125 years ago.

photographs by the author

The Lost Dewey Triumphal Arch - Fifth Avenue and 24th Street

 

from the program of The Dewey Reception in New York City, 1899 (copyright expired)

Commodore George Dewey's fleet was anchored near Hong Kong on April 24, 1898 when he received a cable from Washington:

War has commenced between the United States and Spain.  Proceed at once to Philippine Islands.  Commence operations at once, particularly against the Spanish fleet.  You must capture or destroy.  Use utmost endeavors.

Six days later Dewey destroyed the Spanish Pacific Squadron in the Battle of Manila Bay.  The Program of the Dewey Reception in New York would call it, "The most wonderful sea fight recorded in either ancient or modern history."  

Admiral George Dewey (1837-1917) from the program of The Dewey Reception in New York City, 1899 (copyright expired)

Soon, a committee was selected to stage of massive, three-day reception for the war hero including a spectacular parade.  And on September 1, 1899, The British Architect reported, "By way of honouring the now great Admiral Dewey it is proposed to erect a grand triumphal arch in New York, at the axis of Fifth Avenue and Twenty-fourth Street, Madison Square.  Charles Lamb is the architect."

In fact, Charles R. Lamb had conceived of a Roman-style triumphant arch for the Dewey event.  The idea was approved in July 1899 and an advisory committee of Bruce Price, Charles C. Haight, George B. Post selected the site for the arch as the confluence of Fifth Avenue and Broadway at 24th Street.  The arch would be approached from either end by a row of heroic columns that  began at 25th Street and ended at 23rd Street.  

As planned, the Arch (depicted as its four piers) sat at the confluence of Fifth Avenue, Broadway and 24th Street.  Six massive columns each comprised the approach from 25th Street and to 23rd Street.  Architects' and Builders' Magazine, October 1899 (copyright expired)

Based generally on the Arch of Titus and Vespasian in Rome, the Dewey Arch differed, "by following the Arc de Triomphe of Paris in piercing east and west the piers, thereby lending lightness to the towering structure," explained the Program of The Dewey Reception in New York City.  A who's-who of 28 sculptors from the National Sculpture Society contributed time and labor.  The most conspicuous of the works would be the quadriga, Victory on the Sea, that would sit atop the arch, sculpted by John Quincy Adams Ward.

John Q. A. Ward at work on the clay model of Victory on the Sea.  from the program of The Dewey Reception in New York City, 1899 (copyright expired)

Other artists to contribute were Philip Martiny, who created The Call to Arms, and Karl Bitter, who sculpted The Combat; Charles H. Niehaus, who created The Triumphal Return; and Daniel C. French, responsible for Peace.  These four colossal groupings appeared on the north and south sides of the arch.  

Charles R. Lamb's concept of the design.  Architects' and Builders' Magazine, October 1899 (copyright expired)

Bas relief sculptures were contributed by William Couper, Jahannes S. Gelert; and groupings of The Atlantic and Pacific Oceans and The North and East Rivers were completed by E. Hinton Perry and Isidore Konti, respectively.  The cooperation of so many esteemed artists was staggering.  The other artists working on the project were Henry Bairer, Carl F. Hammann, Ralph Goddard, Frederick R. Kaldenberg, Frederick Moynihan, Caspar Buberi, E. C. Potter, H. K. Bush-Brown, George T. Brewster, Thomas S. Clarke, J. J. Boyle, Jonathan S. Hartley, Augustus Lukeman and William Ordway Partridge.

The arch and colonnade was intended to be temporary--erected solely for the reception and parade.  The British Architect exclaimed that they "will be torn down after the October celebration!"  They would be constructed of wood and staff (the plaster-like material used in constructing certain buildings at the Chicago Columbian Exposition), and the cost was projected at $35,000, or just over $1 million in 2025 terms.  Nevertheless, it was designed to awe, and to imitate the world's most important marble monuments.

Soon after the army of artisans started on the project, a "curse" seemed to strike.  While working on his sketch at his home on 140th Street, sculptor Casper Buberi suffered a fatal heart attack on August 25.  Two days later, sculptor Giovanni Turini suffered the same fate.  On September 5, Frank Crane was discovered dead in his bed, and at 10:00 on the night of September 8, sculptor Henry Bairer, who was working on the Captain Lawrence medallion for the arch, "dropped to the  floor, speechless," reported the Democrat Chronicle.  The newspaper said, "A phantom of Fate seems to hover over the artists at work on the Dewey arch and decorations."

Nevertheless, on September 12, 1899, the New-York Tribune reported, "Work on the arch is going forward rapidly.  The wooden framework will probably be completed by to-night, and then the sculptors and their men will take charge."  The single statues were nearly finished, said the article, and "the big groups have already taken definite shape."

Carpenters at work on the framework. The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, September 10, 1899 (copyright expired)

The basement of Madison Square Garden had been transformed "into studios of artists and great groups and single figures of statuary greet the eyes at every turn," said the article.  "The recesses each hold their piece of sculpture and the whole place seems peopled with a race of great silent giants."

Two days before the parade, the scaffolding began coming down and Charles L. Lamb took a reporter from the New-York Tribune on a tour, including a climb up narrow, wooden stairs to the top, 86 feet above the avenue.  "Is it true that Admiral Dewey is going to be invited up to the top of the arch?" the reporter asked.  

from the collection of the Library of Congress

"Well, I hope so," Lamb answered, "We're going to invite him.  We've had his relatives up there one by one, and I think we ought to have him."

The arch and colonnade were completed in time for the parade on September 30, 1899.  Despite the abbreviated time frame in which to create the project, the result was dazzling--appearing as if meant to last for ages.

Looking southeast, across Madison Square, this vantage shows the rear of the arch.  from the program of The Dewey Reception in New York City, 1899 (copyright expired)

A month after the parade, letters began pouring into the local newspapers espousing the replacement of the temporary arch with a permanent stone replica.  Typical of the many letters published in the New-York Tribune on October 7, 1899 was that of Abraham Abraham, co-founder of the department store Abraham & Straus.

I believe the Dewey Arch should be made permanent.  It will be an object lesson to future generations that our Republic is not ungrateful.  If I can serve you in any way I will be glad to do so.

So vociferous was the public outcry, that on September 29, 1899, the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle announced, "On the 18th of October, the park board will grant a public hearing in regard to the matter."  The newspaper opined, "It would seem that the erection of this arch on park grounds at public expense would be a legitimate project," adding, "With the Dewey arch added to the Washington arch our progress as a nation will be well illustrated in the metropolis."

Below Ward's Victory on the Sea, colossal-sized naval figures surround the upper monument.  In the background, Stanford White's Madison Square Garden can be seen.  from the program of The Dewey Reception in New York City, 1899 (copyright expired)

On October 6, the New-York Tribune reported that the estimates for erecting a permanent monument ranged as high as $2.5 million, saying, "It was likely, however, that the cost would not exceed $500,000."  (That lower figure was, nevertheless, costly.  It would translate to nearly $16 million today.)

But public opinion of Admiral Dewey began to sour within two months.  On October 26, Dewey wrote to the Dewey Home Fund committee in Washington D.C. saying, "I acknowledge the receipt this day of the title deeds to the beautiful home presented to me by my countrymen."  More than $600,000 had been raised across the country to purchase a house for the widowed hero.  Then, in November, he married his second wife, Mildred McLean Hazen, and transferred title to the house to her.

On November 23, 1899, the New York Journal and Advertiser said, "Some people have presumed to talk of 'bad taste' in connection with the Admiral's disposition of his house."  A reader of the New-York Tribune wrote a letter to the editor that said in part, "It was to Dewey as Admiral, we presume, that a house was given, and not to Dewey as a husband, however pleasing that role may be to him personally."  Others stressed that if the permanent arch went forward, it should be called "the Naval Arch."

This view is seen southward from 25th Street.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

The talks fizzled.  Nearly a year later, on August 31, 1900, the Portland Daily Press reported, "The unsightly condition of the Dewey arch and the adjoining encumbrances in Madison square has at last become a matter of public complaint."  Saying that it was "astonishing" that the residents of the neighborhood had tolerated its presence so long, the article continued, 

In their present soiled and dilapidated state, they are an offence to good taste.  Composed of material that yields quickly to wind, rain and frost, and that catches and retains all the dust and defilement blown or thrown upon them, they have become a veritable eyesore and disgrace to the city.

Before the end of the year, the once-magnificent structures were gone.  On December 29, 1900, The New York Times remarked on the last remaining piece--the bas relief created by Danish artist Johannes Gelert.  

Johannes Gelert's Progress of Civilization was the last piece of the work to survive.  Architects' and Builders' Magazine, October, 1899 (copyright expired)

"One morning the work lay on the ground in a hundred pieces," said the article.

The John M. Roesch House - 247 East Houston Street

 

Mary Ellison Lacour occupied the recently-built two-and-a-half story house at 247 East Houston Street in 1834.  She was the widow of Peter Lacour, who was one of the incorporators in 1801 of the French Church Du St. Esprit.  The couple had at least one child, Mary, born on December 26, 1786.

Eighteen-feet wide, Mary's Federal-style house was faced in Flemish bond brick.  The openings wore paneled brownstone lintels and the peaked attic featured two dormers.  In the rear yard was a secondary house, used as rental income.  Among Mary's tenants in 1834 included Elisha Hebbard, who ran a stables; glasscutter Philip McCready; Christian Clink, a carter; and butcher Henry Cornell.

By 1844, both houses had multiple residents.  Living in the main house were John Brown and Michael Lander, who had similar professions.  They listed themselves as "mariner" and "boatman," respectively.  Also in the front house were Henry Snyder, who ran a porterhouse; and shoemaker Abraham Willis.  The rear house was occupied by two widows, Maria Beal and Eliza Jones; Dennis Needham, a "pedler;" and James Valleau, "segarmaker."

Change came to the main house when Morton Hildebrandt converted the basement level for his candy store.  He and his family lived above the shop and were the only occupants in the building.  The Hildebrandt family was replaced by that of Xavier Vallet, who also took over the confectionery store.  Following Xavier's death in 1858, his widow, listed as "F. Vallet," lived here and ran the store at least through 1860.

For years after Mrs. Vallet left, the house was shared with two families at a time.  In 1863, for instance, Isaac Durlach, a glue manufacturer; and Joseph N. Oettinger (apparently retired) occupied it.  The former candy store became home to Meier Katz's plumbing shop, which would remain through 1877.

The main house became a single-family home again when John Roesch leased it around 1879 and opened his barbershop here.  It was possibly at this time that the attic was raised to a full floor.  Interestingly, the builder took care to mimic the Federal style lintels.  Brick dentils ran below the new cornice.

In the fall of 1882, Roesch and his wife wrote to England and invited Philomena Grainal (or Grainel) to live with them.  The 15-year-old was John Roesch's niece.  Described by the New-York Tribune as, "very pretty," she arrived in October and found work as a domestic in "a respectable family at $8 a month," according to the newspaper.  (Her pay would translate to about $253 per month in 2025.)

On Sunday morning, April 29, 1883, Philomena left home and "took along with her an extra dress," according to the family.  She never returned.  Four days later, the New York Herald reported, "An alarm was sent out last night directing the police to look for Philopena [sic] Grainel, fifteen years old, who has been missing since Sunday morning."  The Roesch family suspected foul play, since, as reported by the New-York Tribune, she "is considered to be a respectable girl."

Police found Philomena on May 4, but they withheld her location.  Police Superintendent Walling said, "she does not wish her relatives to know where she is, because she says she was ill-treated by them."  Walling investigated the circumstances and concluded, "As there is no evidence that her aunt has any lawful authority over her, I have concluded to respect the girl's wishes."

Around the time of the incident, John Roesch purchased 247 East Houston Street.

Charles Wesself lived at the address in 1892, most likely in the rear house.  On July 22, 1892, The Evening World reported that the 37-year-old, "fell down stairs at his residence at 10.30 o'clock this morning and was instantly killed."

In 1896 Roesch leased the barbershop to the Archer Mfg. Co.  It appears that, although retaining possession of the property, John Roesch and his family moved out in 1897.  That year he rented the property to Dr. Moritz Schwartz for "3 years with 2 years' privilege."

Dr. Schwartz converted the former barbershop space to his dental office.  He seems to have had trouble keeping an assistant, and repeatedly placed ads for a replacement.  On May 2, 1899, for instance, he advertised, "Dentist; good all-around man; short hours," and on August 6, 1901 sought, "Dentist--All-around dentist; short hours, well paid."

A tenant in the upper portion of the building gave a glimpse into the neighborhood in her letter to the editor of the New York Evening Journal in January 1898:

There is a family residing at No. 168 Ridge street that are in dire distress--a father, mother and seven children, and an old grandmother.  I did, and do, all I can for them, but I have my own people to look after.  Knowing what you do for the poor, I thought I would ask you to help them a little.

            Mary De Gamo, No. 247 East Houston street, New York

The Goodwin family rented rooms here in 1902.  The Evening World described their 12-year-old son, Henry, as a "venturesome youth."  Henry was celebrating New Year's Eve when he saw an automobile with well-dressed partiers break down at Houston and Essex Streets.  Despite the crowd on the sidewalks, while repairs were being made to the car, Henry "snatched a chatelaine bag Miss [May] Lewis wore and slashed at Miss Lewis's hand with a long knife."  The Sun explained, "Miss Lewis wore diamond rings.  Apparently the boy tried to cut off the ring finger on her hand."

May Lewis's finger was deeply slashed.  "The boy gave the hand a yank and then, when he failed to get the rings, ran off."  A policeman quickly caught and arrested Henry.  The Sun reported, "The whole automobile party went to the station."  The article said that while she was making the complaint, "Miss Lewis's hand was bleeding so profusely that she became faint."

In 1906, John Roesch updated the house.  He hired architect O. Reissmann to install plumbing (including toilets) and to replace windows.  The renovations cost him $500, or about $18,000 today.

With Morris Schwartz's dental office gone, the basement level became the Fly Leaf Social Club.  On December 1, 1913, The New York Call reported on illegal Manhattan gambling houses.  "Dollar John" Langer ran an operation at 248 East Houston Street and was implicated in the murder case of bookmaker Herman Rosenthal in 1912.  The article said, "Last week Deputy Commissioner Newburger raided a place across the street, at 247 East Houston street, just to convince Dollar John that the police were not joking with him."

Gangster Abraham "Little Doggie" Ginsberg lived here in the early 1920's.  In May 1923, his brother Henry, was arrested for stabbing Abraham Aadbaum.  Abe Ginsberg appeared at the courthouse for his arraignment on May 21 and got into a fistfight with Aadbaum supporters on the sidewalk.  After the arraignment, according to The New York Times, "Court had been hardly cleared...when there came sounds of another scuffle outside the building.  When the combatants, Abraham Ginsberg and Albert Aaronson, once more had been separated it was found that one of Ginsberg's eyes was badly injured."  Ginsberg was jailed for three days.

In May 1926, the Fly Leaf Social Club was raided and 18 men were arrested for illegal gambling.  Surprisingly, Magistrate Weil condemned the police officers rather than the patrons.  He said, "This is outrageous.  What right have the police to invade an old-established club and harass law abiding men?"  The patrons were released.

Among the groups that used the Fly Leaf Social Club space for their meetings during the early Depression years was the Downtown Local of the Alteration Painters Union.  They would soon have to find new accommodations.  In 1936 an alteration merged 247 East Houston Street with the corner building.  The ground floor became the showroom and office of Steinberg & Dubin monuments.

Steinberg & Dubin installed a massive blade sign on the facade and removed the cornices of both buildings.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

While the monument showroom remained at street level, a renovation in 1964 resulted in apartments on the upper floors.  

The Steinberg & Dubin showroom had its few moments of fame in 2007.  A chase scene within the episode "There's No 'We' Anymore" of The Naked City television series took place among the headstones.

photograph by Carole Teller

The scene could not have been filmed a few months later.  A large sign attached to the facade that September read, "Coming Soon.  Remedy Diner."  After decades of displaying tombstones, the space was renovated with a pseudo-Art Deco storefront.  Remedy Diner remains in the space.

non-credited photographs by the author

many thanks to Carole Teller for suggesting this post

The 1907 Camera Building -- 122-124 East 25th Street

 

On April 27, 1907, the Brunswick Realty Co. acquired the two vintage, three-story houses at 122 and 124 East 25th Street and hired architect Frederick C. Zobel to design a loft-and-store building on the site.  Completed at a cost of $100,000 (the equivalent of $3.44 million in 2025), Zobel's seven-story design was highly influenced by the current Arts & Crafts movement.  Steel frame construction made possible vast show windows at the first and second floors.  Both levels were framed in white terra cotta architraves.  Metal infill with paneled spandrels created three stacks of paired windows in the four-story midsection.  Drip moldings at the sixth and seventh floors recalled the domestic architecture in the neighborhood half a century earlier.  The top floor sat upon a dentiled intermediate cornice and an understated terminal cornice capped the whole. 

Gothic Revival drip moldings like those on the vintage brownstone next door (right) inspired the top floors of the Camera Building.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

Despite being named the Camera Building, 122-124 East 25th Street attracted a variety of businesses.  Among the first tenants was the architectural firm of Pell & Corbett, whose School for Applied Design for Women on Lexington Avenue was just being completed.  The firm was composed of Francis Livingston Pell and Harvey Wiley Corbett. 

The New York Times, October 18, 1908 (copyright expired)

Other initial tenants were the Willow Brook Company, an art gallery; the Woodhull Press; the Magnesia-Asbestos Company; and the Arden Press.

The Willow Brook Company staged exhibitions in its space.  In December 1910, for instance, the New York Evening Post reported, "A collection of water colors by Mrs. W. J. Stillman, better known, perhaps, as Marie Stillman, who became a pre-Raphaelite under the guidance of Rosetti, is being exhibited at the rooms of the Willow Brook Company, Nos. 122-124 East Twenty-fifth Street."

An unusual tenant was the Waterman Institute, here as early as 1911.  The facility produced and prescribed medications that promised to cure a variety of disorders.  An article in the Atlanta, Georgia newspaper The Constitution said in part:

It is estimated that within a comparatively short time nearly three thousand persons addicted to the use of opium or morphine in some form, have taken advantage of the offer of the Waterman Institute, 124 East 25th street...to send a free trial supply of a truly remarkable home remedy.

And an article in The Springport Signal on April 6, 1911 said, "Advices from every direction fully confirm previous reports that the remarkable treatment for epilepsy being administered by the consulting physicians of the Dr. Waterman Institute is achieving wonderful results."

Perhaps the first dry goods businesses in the building came in 1915 when Silverberg, Kraft & Co., ribbon manufacturers; and Hawkeye Embroidery Company signed leases.  But the Camera Building continued to house a wide variety of tenants.  Others included the State Specialty Co., which marketed inexpensive novelties; the Foreign Tool & Machinery Company; and the Price Trade Publishing Company.

The Billboard, May 3, 1913 (copyright expired)

Government contracts during World War I were highly profitable.  Henry T. Price, head of the Price Trade Publishing Company, was also a member of the American Defense Society and in 1917 charged representatives of the Quartermaster Corps of the United States Army of graft.  He notified U.S. Senator James W. Wadsworth Jr. that companies were being forced to pay kickbacks before being awarded a contract.

On December 25, 1917, the New York Herald reported that Price produced a shoemaker, Peter Sebald, who was approached by a sergeant regarding repairing 700 pairs of Army footwear.  Sebald told him that he usually charged $1.50 per pair, but for that quantity he would lower the price to $1.00.

"You don't want to charge $1," the sergeant said, "You want to charge $1.25."  Sebald was told, "When you get your check, you give me $175."  

In 1919, the Big Sisters, Inc. leased space.  The group would remain for several years and on December 24, 1922, The New York Times reported, "The Protestant Big Sisters had a celebration for 200 children at 122 East Twenty-fifth Street yesterday, and forty baskets of food were distributed to families in need."

The offices of the National Association of Employing Lithographers were here as early as 1922.  It acted as a union employment agency.  An interesting tenant was James Chittick, who ran a textile school.  His 20-session courses cost $50--paid in advance.  (The tuition was a substantial $875 in today's money.)

New-York Tribune, September 20, 1921 (copyright expired)

The Vocational Service for Juniors moved in around 1923.  Founded in 1910, the organization awarded scholarships to needy high school students who otherwise would have to drop out of school to help support their families.  A letter to the editor of The New York Times on March 8, 1923 explained, "Five dollars keeps a child in school a week, $125 keeps a child in school a term, $250 keeps a child in school a session.  Even then, a child must often work after school and on Saturdays to make both ends meet."

A letter to the editor of the New York Evening Post from Mrs. Edward C. Henderson, president of the Board of Managers of the Vocational Service for Juniors, on January 26, 1927 followed up on some of its 700 scholarship graduates.  "Some are out in the world following trades and professions; some are working their way through college."

A less reputable tenant was the Knickerbocker Merchandising Company, Inc.  On October 6, 1925, The New York Times reported that the firm and its executives, Maurice Innerfield and Emanuel Seaman, had been indicted "with having used the mails to defraud retail grocers out of nearly $130,000."  The company's "high-powered" salesmen pressured more than 5,000 merchants to join the "Permanent Associate Buying Service Membership" to obtain groceries at low prices.  It was all a scam.

A renovation completed in 1939 resulted in offices and salesrooms throughout the building.  It was likely at this time that a zig-zagging iron fire escape was installed that necessitated the notching of the cornice.

The original second floor window configuration survived in 1941.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

A two-year renovation of the building was begun in 1969 for the Optometric Center of New York.  Founded in 1956, it provided an eye care clinic and continued optometric education following the closing of Columbia University's optometry program.  The center's research was reflected in 1969 when a survey of 500 patients discovered that "Nearly 18 per cent of Medicaid patients received 'unsatisfactory care' on eye problems," as reported by The New York Times on October 2.

On October 23, 1971, the N.Y. Amsterdam News reported, "The New York State Optometric Association has made funds available to the Optometric Center, earmarked for students for minority groups...The new college will be located at 122 East 25th Street, the present site of the Optometric Center, and will occupy about half of the center."  The college would eventually become the SUNY College of Optometry.

The Optometric Center remained until 1983 when the building was converted to offices.  Then, in 2003, the upper floors were renovated to residential use--one apartment each on the second through sixth floors, and a duplex on the seventh and penthouse levels (the later unseen from the street).  The renovation including restoring the notched cornice.

photographs by the author

Francis A. Minuth's 1889 19 Bedford Street

 

Cast iron piers on each side of the ground floor are all that remain of the 19th century storefront.

When Bedford Street was laid out in 1799, the Greenwich Village neighborhood around it was still rural.  Why the road was named for a London street, given the recent war with England, is a puzzle.  Bedford Street was lined with prim, Federal Style homes in the 1820s.  But by the third quarter of the century, the neighborhood saw an influx of immigrants, sparking a flurry of construction of apartment buildings.

Julius Ritter purchased the vintage house at 19 Bedford Street, between Downing and Hancock Street, in 1888.  (Hancock Street would later be eradicated by the extension of Sixth Avenue.)  He commissioned German-born architect Francis A. Minuth to design a five-story store-and-flat building on the site.  Completed the following year, the structure cost $14,000 to build, or just under half a million in 2025 dollars.

Minuth designed 19 Bedford Street in the Renaissance Revival style, cladding the four upper floors in red brick.  The brownstone trim included Renaissance-inspired architraves.  Those of the second floor wore molded cornices, the center of which was capped with a classical triangular pediment.  At the fourth floor, a pretty Juliette balcony supported by a single foliate bracket decorated the center opening.  Terra cotta shells filled the arches above the top floor windows, and a bracketed cornice with a paneled and swagged fascia completed the design.

The residents of 19 Bedford Street and the neighborhood in general witnessed a thrilling incident on April 29, 1915.  Police Sergeant Camille Pierne and Policeman Dennis Mitchell were on patrol at the corner of Houston and Hancock Streets that night when they heard a gunshot.  They pursued a man  who ran from Hancock onto Bedford Street, and then into 19 Bedford.  Before entering the building, Sergeant Pierne instructed Mitchell to enter 21 Bedford Street and then cross to No. 19 on the roof.

As Pierne started up the staircase, he dropped down as a bullet whizzed by his head.  The New York Evening Telegram said, "Pierne answered the shot from his revolver and plunged on upstairs."  At the top floor, the sergeant saw his query disappear up the ladder and through the scuttle to the roof.  Pierne reached the rooftop just in time to see the man "climb over a barb wire fence separating the roof from that of 21, " reported The New York Times.

When Officer Mitchell emerged from the scuttle of No. 21, he faced the "man running toward him pistol in hand," according to The New York Times.  Mitchell fired once, missing his assailant.  In the meantime, Sergeant Pierne had gotten tangled in the barbed wire, slowing down his progress.  Mitchel and the man got into a wrestling match.  The New York Times said, "In the street below a crowd which had seen the chase start shouted and yelled with excitement as each moment the men seemed about to fall into the street."  

Finally, Pierne got free of the barbed wire and "threw himself upon the man," said The Times.  "Between them the policemen dragged him back from the roof's edge and finally got him down to the street."  As it turned out, the gunman was 21-year-old Benjamin Lotta, who ran a barbershop at 18 Cornelia Street.  The target of Lotta's original shooting was never found.

Edward Neary, who lived here in 1923, maintained pigeon coops on the roof.  On the evening of May 25, he was "flying pigeons," as reported by the New York Evening Telegram, when he noticed smoke pouring out of the apartment building at 40 Downing Street.  Minutes earlier, a fire had broken out in the kitchen of Mrs. Louis Sibi on the second floor of that building.

By the time Neary arrived at the scene, Mrs. Sibi and her two children, Albert and Arthur, one and two years old respectively, were at the window.  She was screaming for help.  Neary rushed into the burning building and grabbed the boys.  He carried them down the rear fire escape, while Nicoli Pepetti, who owned the building, carried Mrs. Sibi down.  

Neary was hailed a hero, credited with saving the boys' lives.  The New York Evening Telegram reported, "the flames had swept up the stairways, 'mushrooming' on each floor."

A renovation completed in 1940 replaced Francis A. Minuth's 1889 cast iron storefront.  A plate glass show window flooded the interior with natural light, and rather unattractive concrete blocks took the place of the original storefront's cornice.

The 1940 ground floor renovation resulted in an ugly scar between the first and second floors.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Living in the building at the time was Mary Young, a widow.  Four years earlier, in February 1936, she had to be hospitalized.  Her attorney, Michael J. Horan, persuaded her to give him power of attorney.  Over the next four years, Horan "drew $10,000 from her bank accounts," reported the New York Evening Post.  The attorney was indicted on grand larceny in February 1941.  He was summoned to the prosecutor's office where he "suffered nervous prostration."  His condition prevented his being immediately jailed, and he quickly disappeared.   On September 25, the New York Evening Post reported, "An eight-state alarm has been sent out for Horan, missing since he walked out of his home at 106 Washington Pl. on Feb. 18."

When Mary Young died in her apartment here at the age of 93 in 1949, Horan was still on the lam.  Ten years after he first disappeared, on July 18, 1951, The New York Times reported, "Michael J. Horan, 78-year-old disbarred attorney, appeared yesterday in General Sessions and eloquently defended himself against an accusation that he had mulcted a widow of her life savings."  

In 1953, the city condemned 19 Bedford Street as well as several other neighboring buildings.  The move was part of the plan first proposed by Parks Commissioner Robert Moses in 1928.  He envisioned an eight-lane highway, the Lower Manhattan Expressway, that would run from the Holland Tunnel to the Manhattan and Williamsburg Bridges.

Robert Mose's plan would have created Verrazano Street and eliminated the Bedford Street block.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

Moses's vision would include the creation of Verrazano Street, which would run through the Bedford and Downing Street neighborhood.  In 1957, a demolition permit for 19 Bedford Street was issued.  But Moses's grand project stalled.  Residents of 19 Bedford Street remained in their apartments, unsure of their futures here.

Twenty-nine years after the building was condemned, on November 13, 1980, The Villager reported on the city's plan of "demapping" of Verrazano Street--in other words, erasing the never-built thoroughfare from the map.  The tenants, who had been renting month-to-month from the city, were nervous.  Two months later, the newspaper reported, "Most of the rents in the buildings are very low and a large number of tenants are low-income or elderly people.  If the street is demapped, the buildings could be sold and the tenants evicted."

Of course, Verrazano Street was demapped and, happily, Robert Moses's extraordinary Lower Manhattan Expressway was scrapped.  No. 19 Bedford Street was sold by the city and the purchaser converted the building to five co-operative apartments, one per floor including the former storefront.  In eliminating the ground floor shop, a veneer of brick covered the unsightly concrete blocks of the 1940 renovation.

photographs by the author