Philip Koplowsky acted as developer, builder and architect for the three 26-foot-wide tenement buildings he erected at 210 through 214 West 25th Street in 1888-89. His blend of Queen Anne and Renaissance Revival styles at 212 East 25th Street created a visual cornucopia of terra cotta panels and bands, carved female busts and fearsome masks, and, at the top floor, graceful caryatids. Each building terminated in a dramatic cast metal cornice and that of 214 East 25th Street sprouted an elaborate, multi level ornament.
Bands of cherubs and classical caryatids grace the top floor. A carved grotesque mask stares from below the cornice.
There were four apartments per floor in the building, two each in the front and rear. Because a large livery stable directly behind the building on East 24th Street created odors and a less than optimal view, the rents for the rear apartments were cheaper. Rents for the fourth floor apartments, for instance, were $18 in the front and $14 in the back. ($615 and $478 respectively in 2025 terms.)
Among the first residents were Michael Fitzpatrick and his wife. Fitzpatrick was a lineman for the Metropolitan Telephone Company. Whether it was the novelty of his potentially dangerous profession, insufficient training on safety precautions or simply his recklessness that resulted in his frightening experience on August 2, 1890 is unclear. He was working on a telephone pole when an electrical shock "knocked [him] from the pole," according to The Sun. He was "laid up for three weeks," said the newspaper.
A week after returning to work, Fitzpatrick, described by The World as "a big, burly man, weighing over two hundred pounds," was thrown from a pole at Bowery and Third Street from a second electrical shock.
Michael Fitzpatrick again returned to work. Then, on September 23, The World reported that he, "had a narrow escape from death as a result of contact with a live electric wire at Eightieth street and First avenue yesterday afternoon." With that shock, Fitzpatrick "threw up his arms and fell from the pole unconscious, striking a wagon that stood at the curb," said the article.
Someone ran to a nearby church and two priests arrived. They administered extreme unction to the supposed dying man. He regained consciousness by the time an ambulance arrived. "The surgeon found a burn six inches in length and about two inches in width on the left side of Fitzpatrick's neck," said The World. "It had been literally roasted by the electric current. His shoulder was also dislocated by the fall." In reporting on the incident on October 4, 1890, the Western Electrician said, "Fitzpatrick is either particularly unfortunate or careless in the handling of electric wires."
Other early residents were Rev. Andrew P. Ekman, the pastor of the First Swedish Baptist Church on East 20th Street; John McRobbie, a traveling carpet salesman; and James Quirk, a gripman for the Metropolitan Street Railway Company. (A gripman controlled the streetcar.)
In 1893, Koplowsky sold 212 and 214 East 25th Street to Daniel Ohl. He and his family occupied apartments in No. 212.
A tragedy occurred here that spring. Two years earlier, in November 1891, Matthew and May Crown were married and moved into 214 East 25th Street. The bride was 17 years old. Matthew worked as a waiter.
Crown returned home from work on the evening of May 4, 1893 and found the apartment door locked. The New York Herald reported, "thinking his wife had gone out for a walk he waited some time for her." When she did not return, Crown called the janitor who forced the door open. They found May, now 19 years old, "lying on the floor in the kitchen near the sink." Next to her was an empty bottle labelled carbolic acid.
Salesman John McRobbie, who worked for the Philadelphia carpet manufacturer Nathan Miller, was on the road in January 1895. The 45-year-old checked into the Merchant's Hotel in Albany where, according to the Syracuse, New York Daily Standard, he "was found dead in his room." The article said, "the cause is supposed to have been heart disease."
Mrs. H. Wagner was drawn into an investigation of a jewel theft ring in 1898. On January 9, The Sun reported that police in Pittsburgh "have uncovered a nest of diamond thieves, with headquarters in New York." Two suspects, said the article, "shipped to Mrs. H. Wagner, 214 East Twenty-fifth street, New York, a satchel containing, in all probability, some stolen diamonds." The New York City police intercepted the satchel at the express office.
Inside, hidden within clothing, were diamonds and a gold ring. A letter addressed to Mrs. Wagner directed her to "sell the diamonds and that [the writer] would write to her later from Columbus, O."
Mrs. Wagner pleaded innocence. She explained that six weeks earlier she had rented a spare room in her apartment. She told a reporter from The Sun, "She asked no questions of him...He went out every morning at about 9 o'clock and returned at night at about 10 o'clock. He paid his rent regularly." According to her, he had left two weeks earlier and asked her to forward him some clothing he had left at a laundry. She did so and asked him to return the valise. She presumed, she said, that was the bag the police intercepted.
Her alibi did not stand up in court. George Phelps and John Wyland, the "notorious diamond pluckers," as described by The Pittsburgh Press, were found guilty on March 7, 1898, and Mrs. Wagner was convicted as being "a fence."
Resident Samuel Brown found himself behind bars, too, the following year. On July 25, 1899, The Sun reported that he and John T. Pomeroy had been arrested for having robbed William D. Davis and Eberhard Meyer at the Lawless's Hotel. According to both men, on separate incidents a year earlier, while drinking in the hotel's barroom, they were administered knockout drops. When they regained consciousness, they found their cash and valuables were gone.
Twenty-six-year-old Lizzie Hall moved into a three-room, rear apartment on the first floor in January 1902. According to The New York Evening World, "Her real name was Lizzie Otto and she is said to have come from a wealthy family of Stroudsburg, Pa." The newspaper said, "She was a habitue of the resorts along Third avenue from Fourteenth street to Twenty-eighth street." It was an indictment of her respectability.
Lizzie became the mistress of Christian Ganze, a tailor on South Street, and he moved into her apartment. Early in August, she kicked him out and began an affair with Arthur W. Campbell, a married window dresser. Ganze did not relinquish his lover quietly. On the night of August 25, according to The World, "in a saloon at Twentieth street and Third avenue Ganze attempted to kill her."
Arthur W. Campbell was out of work at the time. Two days later, he told his wife he was going out to try to find work. "After leaving her he went directly to the rooms of the Hall woman," reported The World.
The Kahn family were Lizzie's across-the-hall neighbors. Mrs. Kahn heard Campbell arrive, followed by Ganze. (Apparently Mrs. Kahn kept close tabs on the movements of her neighbors.) The New York Times reported, "A few moments later Mrs. Kahn...heard sounds of scuffling in the latter apartments." About an hour later, she "heard the sounds of another struggle, followed by four revolver shots." Police arrived to discover Lizzie and Campbell dead in the living room, "each with a bullet wound in the heart." The World reported, "Ganze put a bullet in the base of his brain, shattering the spinal cord."
Bertha Strangohr and her daughter Caroline occupied an apartment in 1911. They were, in the words of The New York Times, "in poor circumstances." An eviction notice was tacked on their door demanding that they leave by June 21. According to Caroline, who was 17, she found a job and "intended to try to earn money to pay the rent." She dressed and headed out on June 21 (the eviction date). Her mother, who said "she thought her daughter was going to leave her," blocked her way.
Patrolman Leidig was standing on the corner of 25th Street and Second Avenue when a boy told him "there was some trouble in the tenement" at 214 East 25th Street. He found Bertha and Caroline struggling in the hallway. "He separated the two women, and then the daughter fell into a stupor," reported The New York Times. Bertha had attempted to prevent Caroline's leaving by placing a towel soaked in chloroform over her head. Bertha was arrested for attempted homicide and was committed to Bellevue Hospital "where she will be held for five days for observation," said the article. Caroline recovered at the hospital.
A light snow was falling when this photograph was taken in 1941. NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.
Other residents would be on the wrong side of the law over the coming decades. Sam Scianti and his brother, Frank, alias Larry Scianti, were arrested in November 1925 for the hold-up of employees of the J. M. Sachs Shoe Company. In 1932 15-year-old John Kelly was arrested on a grand larceny charge, and the following year he was detained for possessing a revolver. In November 1933, the teen was wounded in a gunfight in a waterfront tavern during which his friend, Francis Smith was killed. Three months later, in February 1934, Kelly, now 17 years old, attempted to hold up the grocery store of Minar Popeiian with a friend. Kelly shot and killed the storekeeper. The New York Sun reported that he told police, "I had to shoot him. He grabbed my pal."
In November 1933, longshoreman William Costello was shot through the ear by an attacker. A month later he got into a "gun battle," as worded by The Evening Post, with police and was killed. His brother, John "Kiki" Costello, also a longshoreman, was killed on June 15, 1937. The New York Evening Post said, "In the bloody records of recent waterfront warfare, police sought today a clue to the identify of two gunmen who last night put a leaden end to the questionable career of John (Kiki) Costello, twenty-nine-year-old West Side roustabout."
Charles Catalano lived here on January 6, 1947 when he was arrested during the armed robbery of the clerk of the Hotel Belmore at 25th Street and Lexington Avenue. He was charged with robbery, felonious assault and violations of the Sullivan Law (a restrictive gun law). Eight years later, Catalano, now 38, was still living here. On June 17, the Star-Journal reported that he had been arrested as a suspect "in the stickup of the bank at 140-17 Queens boulevard."
Residents continued to bring unwanted publicity to the building. Sharon Ann Walley and Joanne Sadier, 22 and 20 years old respectively, were arrested on September 1, 1968 "charged with the sale of a dangerous drug," according to The Kingston Daily Freeman. The two women had sold LSD to an undercover detective.
Despite its sometimes sketchy history, 214 East 25th Street and its two architectural siblings, survive as exceptionally striking examples of late Victorian tenement design.
photographs by the author
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