The Spring Street block between Sullivan and Thompson Streets during the 1830s was lined with frame, Federal-style houses, most with brick facades. By the last decade of the century, however, as waves of immigrants settled in the district, those venerable dwellings were replaced with multi-family buildings.
On January 19, 1891, the Real Estate Record & Guide reported that August Ruff intended to erect a "six-story brick, iron and stone flat" at 192 Spring Street. Although Ruff had not yet decided upon an architect, he estimated his project would cost $25,000 (about $864,000 in 2025). The German-born developer would be responsible for erecting dozens of apartment buildings before his death in 1921. For this project, he chose two countrymen to design the structure--Frederick William Kurtzer and Richard O. L. Rohl.
Completed before the end of the year, 192 Spring Street was a blend of Renaissance Revival and Queen Anne styles. The entrance frame rose slightly higher than the stores on either side. Above its elegant fanlight was a portrait keystone. A leaded, round opening dominated the upper portion of the frame. Kurtzer & Rohl embellished the six upper floors with terra cotta decorations--intricate bandcourses, Renaissance-inspired pediments, shell-filled tympana, portrait brackets, and fantastic masks and creatures drawn from German prototypes.
The original stores were home to Domenico Marziello's barber shop and John E. Rosasco's "milk" store. Upstairs were four apartments per floor--two in front and two in back. The initial residents were a blend of new arrivals--their surnames reflecting homelands like Italy, Ireland and even France. Among those living here in 1897, for instance, were Frank Santomenna and Francis Ramagli, both tailors. Peter Laffitte and Raoul Bayeux were cooks, and Thomas F. Gallagher worked as a clerk.
No doubt, the residents were terrified on August 10, 1892 when The Evening World reported, "Annie Gavin, fifteen, was found suffering with small pox at her home, 192 Spring street, last night. She was taken up to North Brother Island." (Patients of the contagious disease were quarantined in the Small Pox Hospital on the small island in the East River between Bronx and Riker's Island.)
Living here in 1895 were Irish-born John and Annie McMunn. The couple had three children, one of whom was an infant. On February 20 that year, The World reported, "Mrs. McMunn's neighbors say she acts like a mad woman when in liquor."
On the afternoon of February 19, while John was at work, the baby began crying. The World said, "Mrs. McMunn, in a fit of frenzy, attempted to brain it, but a man who was working in the hallway prevented her." The ruckus from the apartment attracted a passing patrolman, who took the baby. Annie McMunn was not yet done. She picked up a chair and tried to strike her baby. The New York Times said that had it not been the policeman instead who took the blows, "the little one would have been killed."
The New York Times continued, "Mrs. McMunn vigorously resisted arrest, and it took two policemen to hold her while she was being taken to the station, in a truck." The World added that she was "taken screaming and struggling to the Macdougal Street Station." The newspaper reported the following day that John McMunn, "had two of his children committed to the care of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, as he was afraid his wife would harm them."
By May 1904, when Nicholas and Elizabeth Brooks sold the building to John Capinto and Joseph Libonati, almost all the residents were Italian. When the country entered World War I in 1917, many of the young men in the neighborhood--several of them new arrivals to America--joined the U.S. Army.
Tony Pappone, Dominick Mangieri, Daniel Licciono, and Joe Anella, whose families all lived in 192 Spring Street, were too young to fight. Instead, they recruited Angelo De Nisco, who lived next door, and hit the pavement to raise money. Police Sergeant Theodore Ridder came upon the crew on September 14, 1918. The Sun said, "In their innocence the youngsters were using an American flag as a receptacle and the sergeant took them to the police station at 24 Macdougal street." The article noted, "Their ages range from 7 to 14 years."
At the police station, "in a kindly way," according to The Sun, the sergeant asked the boys, "What are you going to do with this money?"
One answered, "We're going to buy a service flag."
The sergeant suggested, "Why not give to The Sun Tobacco Fund instead? Then, the men you want to honor will get smokes."
(The newspaper was currently raising funds to send cigarettes to the soldiers on the front.)
The boys (and their mothers, who had by now arrived) "assented enthusiastically," and the police sergeant escorted the five boys to The Sun office where they proudly contributed their $1.50. The boys' names were later published along with the other donors.
More than century old Federal-style houses still survived next door to 192 Spring Street in 1941. via the NYC Dept Records & Information Services.
The neighborhood was still overwhelmingly Italian at the end of World War II. Joseph Izzo lived here in 1946 when his attempt to earn a living landed him behind bars. The 30-year-old was a truck driver and when the CIO Retail, Wholesale and Department Store Employees Union went on strike that December, Izzo was hired to make deliveries.
When he drove his truck to the gates of the Strauss Stores warehouse at Maspeth, Long Island on December 18, he was confronted with an angry mob of strikers. They called Izzo, according to the newspaper PM, "a scab."
Labor conflicts often resulted in violence and this standoff was no exception. In this case, it was Joseph Izzo who meted out the punishment. The article said, Paul Millman, a striking saleman, "sustained a broken hip;" a shipping clerk, Harry Samuels, "has rib and spine injuries" and two other picketers "suffered minor injuries." In the melee, policeman Patrick Norton was also hurt. Joseph Izzo did not come home that evening. The article said he, "was arrested and held in $5000 bail on a charge of third-degree assault."
The next day, another resident's name was in the newspapers for a tragic reason. Despite his advanced age, Joseph Ianatto still worked at A. Imperatrice & Sons, a rag salvage and baling concern at 29 Mercer Street. On December 19, the 74-year-old was loading heavy bales onto a truck when, as reported by the New York Post, "a bale slipped and struck Ianatto, knocking him to the basement eight feet below and landing on him." An ambulance attendant pronounced him dead on the scene.
The second half of the century saw change in the Soho neighborhood. Art galleries, trendy boutiques and cafes little by little transformed its personality. The movement was vividly exemplified when Trente's Afro-Disiac Boutique opened in one of the stores in 192 Spring Street.
N.Y. Amsterdam News, April 26, 1969
In the mid-1970s, the Fear Of Art Gallery occupied one of the storefronts, and on June 20, 1989 Fertility, a boutique devoted to fashions designed by Isaia, opened here.
Outwardly, 192 Spring Street is substantially unchanged since newly-arrived immigrants moved into the building nearly 135 years ago.
photographs by the author
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Did they used to call the C train the AA?
ReplyDeleteThe AA was renamed the K line in 1985. Then the C service took over as the express.
ReplyDeleteDid the building always have a fire escape? Also, looks like the facade desperately needs to be cleaned—not that that's likely!
ReplyDeleteNo. Fire escapes became law early in the 20th century and many of the retrofitting horribly disfigured the facades and cornices. Happily, not terribly so in this instance.
Delete