The 1826 Abraham B. Vanderpoel House - 38 Dominick Street

 

photo via New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission

In 1821 the by-then fetid canal, originally established to drain the swampy Lispenard Meadow, was covered over, creating Canal Street.  Quickly afterward, streets to the north opened and development began.  Among the first streets to open was Dominick Street, named in honor of George Dominick who fled France in the mid-18th century and became a vestryman of Trinity Church and a captain of the militia.

The new street sat upon land owned by Sarah Livingston, the wife of Robert Livingston.  She had inherited it from her grandfather, Anthony Lispenard.  On March 10, 1826, she sold 12 vacant lots along Dominick Street to Smith Bloomfield who filled them with prim, two-and-a-half story brick-faced homes.  

Among them was 39 Dominick Street.  (Confusingly and inexplicably, the odd and even street numbers were flipped in 1867, and No. 39 got the new address of 38.)  Like its neighbors, its Federal design included a doorway flanked by fluted wooden columns, narrow sidelights and a generous transom.  Two dormers pierced the peaked roof.

Abraham Barent Vanderpoel moved his family into the house in 1827, apparently renting from Bloomfield.  Born in 1788, he listed his profession as "custom house officer."  He and his wife, the former Harriet Goodwin, would have three children: Mary Vanburen, Sarah and Barent. 

The Vanderpoels left the house around 1835, initiating a series of occupants.  Dry goods merchant James L. Brinckerhoff was here in 1836, followed by Isaac N. Seymour and his family by 1840.  Seymour was the treasurer of the Delaware & Hudson Canal Company.  The family remained through 1858.

Abby J. Gorham, a widow, moved into the house in 1859 with her son Shabael C. Gorham.  The family had deep American roots, tracing their origins to John de Gorram who arrived on the Mayflower.  Never married, Shabael died at the age of 41 on November 23, 1861.  The New York Times noted, "Funeral services will be held at the house of his mother, No. 39 Dominick-st., on Monday."

The family of fish dealer Samuel H. Wood occupied the house from 1863 until 1867.  On February 23 that year an announcement in the New-York Tribune reported that the property "now known as No. 38 in Dominick street" would be auctioned.  It was purchased by Samuel Giveans Trusdell.

Trusdell was a partner in the coffee business Trusdell & Phelps.  He married Phebe Jane Edsall in 1863.  Born in 1835 and 1840, respectively, they would have one child, Samuel Edsall, who was born in the house in 1868.

The family would remain here for decades, taking in at least one boarder over the years.  Katie E. Moore lived with the Trusdells in 1884.  She was a teacher in the primary department of Grammar School No. 10 on Wooster Street.

In 1886, the home's Federal architecture was decidedly passé.  On April 3, the Real Estate Record & Guide reported that Phebe (who was the owner of record) had hired architects and builders J. Hankinson's Son to raise the attic to a full story.  The renovations cost the Trusdells $1,100, or about $37,800 in 2026.  Interestingly, while the contractors gave the remodeled house a fashionable Italianate cornice, it did not touch the vintage doorway.

As late as 1940, the doorway, with its slender columns, was essentially unchanged since 1826.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Samuel Edsall Trusdell died at the age of 28 on April 29, 1896.  His father survived him by four years, dying in the Dominick Street house on December 27, 1900 at the age of 65.  

It is unclear how long Phebe, who died in 1926, remained here.  In 1929, George Tombini leased 38 Dominick Street, and by 1940 the Campone and De Sapio families shared the house.

It was well-filled.  Pasquale Campone and his wife, Antonette, had five children, Rose, Pasquaela, Doris, Betty and Anthony.  Gerard De Sapio was married to Antonette's sister, Marinetta.  An Italian immigrant, he owned a trucking business.  The couple had two sons.

Anthony Capone was born in 1914.  He worked as a shipping clerk for the Equitable Trading Corporation, a wholesale liquor distributor on Hudson Street.  In 1936 he and eight other employees devised a scheme to augment their salaries.  It worked for several years, but then on July 13, 1940, The New York Times reported that the group had been arrested for the theft of "about $50,000 of liquors from the concern in the last four years."

Anthony's cousin would make a name for himself in New York politics.  Born on December 10, 1908, Carmine Gerard De Sapio attended St. Alphonsus parochial school and briefly attended Fordham College.  He often loaded freight at his father's business.  While in his teens, he contracted iritis, an inflammation of the eyes.  It necessitated his wearing dark glasses for the rest of his life, and they became his trademark.

The teen became involved with the Daniel Finn's Huron Club in Greenwich Village.  It was a center of Tammany power within the district.  De Sapio became Finn's "lieutenant."   By 1937, he had amassed enough power within Tammany to organize the Tamawa Club, challenging Finn's leadership in the district.  

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Carmine De Sapio married Theresa Natale in 1937 and he moved out of 38 Dominick Street.  By 1949 he was the "boss" of Tammany Hall.  His downfall came in the 1960s when, according to The New York Times, "Denounced as corrupt and authoritarian, he was abandoned by onetime allies."  In 1969 he was sent to prison, convicted of bribery charges.

In 1954, the Capone and De Sapio families converted the ground floor to a restaurant.  When Marinetta De Sapio died at the age of 76 on October 25, 1965, The New York Times remarked that she had lived "for many years at 38 Dominick Street."

Around 1987, the restaurant space became Sagebrush Canyon, which featured live jazz music.  By then, the ground floor windows had been replaced by a single opening.  

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The restaurant Alison on Dominick Street opened in 1990, its atmosphere described by The New York Times as "harmonious and comfortable and the soft lighting very seductive."  It remained until 2002.

The four 1826 houses were considered for landmark designation in 2012.  No. 38 is at the right.  photograph by Jason Kessler

A renovation completed in 2010 returned 38 Dominick Street to a single family home.  As a nod to the now lost Federal-style doorway, two disproportionate Ionic columns were shoehorned into the entrance.  Today its entablature is inscribed "Post Modern" in Greek lettering.

photograph by Jason Kessler

It and the other three remaining houses of Smith Bloomfield's 1826 row were considered by the Landmark Preservation Commission for landmark designation in May 2012.  The owners of No. 38 strongly testified against its designation, citing the drastic alterations to the nearly 200-year-old building.  The LPC agreed and only 32 to 36 Dominick Street were given landmark status.

many thanks to reader Jason Kessler for suggesting this post

The 1891 Hotel Renaissance (Columbia Club) - 4 West 43rd Street

 

photo by Anthony Bellov

Even as he and Bruce Price were designing part of David H. King Jr.'s ambitious "King's Model Houses" in Harlem, Clarence S. Luce was working on another project for the developer--an upscale residential hotel in Midtown.  As the Renaissance Hotel neared completion on August 16, 1891, The New York Times called it, "an ornament to the city" and described it as, "magnificent."

The article began saying, "One of the handsomest and most interesting buildings in the city is the new Hotel Renaissance, in West Forty-third Street, near Fifth Avenue."  The journalist described the style as "a type of the Renaissance with pronounced American interpretations."  Anticipating skyscraper technology, Luce employed an iron skeleton "and hollow terra-cotta brick, strong and light."  The article said the foundations were "like the grave of a tavern keeper's wife, 'both wide and deep.'"  

Luce faced the two-story rusticated base with marble, "calculated to reflect the general renaissance style."  It was dominated by the Caen marble entrance, designed as a double-height porch with paired columns.  

photo by Anthony Bellov

The four-story midsection was faced in tan brick and trimmed in limestone.  The windows of the fifth floor imitated Renaissance balconies, with stone balustrades and engaged columns that upheld arched, shell-filled pediments.  Extravagantly decorated terra cotta panels separated the top floor openings, and a stone balustrade sat upon the overhanging cornice.

Guests entered into a "round arched vestibule" wainscoted in "marble in beautiful tints," as described by The New York Times, and the walls were frescoed.  On either side were the reception room and a cafe, "both of them large and handsomely-decorated saloons [i.e., rooms]."  The vestibule led to the "main hall" and the courtyard, around which the principal ground floor rooms were arranged.  The courtyard featured a fountain surrounded with "growing flowers and tropical plants."  The result, said the writer, was "an effect similar to the interiors of the most celebrated structures of this class in Florence, Paris, and Madrid."  Interior balconies at the second floor were available to all residents from which to enjoy the courtyard's afternoon and evening music.

Residential hotels differed from apartment buildings in that the suites did not have kitchens.  Guests, who signed months- or years-long leases, ate in a large communal dining room, similar to an elegant restaurant.  All the amenities of a transient hotel (like maid service, for instances) were provided by the management.

Also on the ground floor were four private dining rooms, two each on either side of the courtyard.  "From the Florentine galleries that separate the private dining rooms from the court yard, the main dining room in the back of the building is reached," said the article.  The reporter deemed it, "one of the handsomest dining halls in the country."  Engulfing the entire 125-foot width of the building, it was visually broken up by "mural arches" that gave the impression of three rooms "thrown into one."  The Times said, "The ornamentation of this room is in the highest form of the frescoer's art."  (The article mentioned that King had hired "one of the best chefs of Paris.")

The walls of the first floor rooms were decorated with hand-decorated Louis XV-style panels.  The private dining room walls, however, were covered in silk and the furnishings were "in the style of the empire."  The motif was carried into the two oval elevators, which were "finished in gold and Vernis Martin, with painted panels and Louis XV decorations."

The New York Times, October 6, 1891 (copyright expired)

Each of the apartments looked onto the courtyard.  The New York Times explained, "Each suite is entered from the hall through a private vestibule, thus insuring perfect privacy for all."

The Hotel Renaissance opened on October 1, 1891.  It was patronized by some of Manhattan's wealthiest citizens, either as their permanent city residence or during the winter season.  Among them were James and Sarah Roosevelt and their son, Franklin.  In her Franklin and Eleanor, An Extraordinary Marriage, Hazel Rowley writes:

Franklin and his parents (accompanied by servants and tutors) spent time in New York City, where they had an apartment at the Renaissance Hotel, on West Forty-third Street.

C. Grayson Martin purchased the Hotel Renaissance following David H. King Jr.'s death in April 1916.  He quickly swapped it with George N. and Julius Black for the X. Y. Ranch in Colorado.  On January 17, 1917, The New York Sun said the 5,000-acre X. Y. Ranch was "one of the best known ranches in the West."  The value of the Hotel Renaissance was estimated at $1 million, or about $24.5 million in 2026.

The Black brothers closed the Hotel Renaissance and leased the property to the Columbia University Club, which had been located at Gramercy Park for more than a decade.  The club hired architects Henry F. Hornbostel, Kenneth MacKenzie Murchison, and Alger C. Gildersleeve to convert the hotel to a clubhouse.  

A year and "more than $100,000" later, almost to the day, The New York Times reported on January 27, 1918 that the renovations were completed and the opening would be celebrated by a dinner on February 7.  It said the architects had "transformed it into one of the best-equipped clubs in the Forty-second Street club centre."  

The New York Herald explained that the upper floors now contained 104 rooms "for members who wish to live at the club."  There were also exercising rooms, baths, and four squash courts on the roof.  The "immense dining room," said the article, which was designed by Hornbostel, "is in simple white stone, with great light brackets in silver and a frieze that includes some paintings of scenes of the Columbia campus as it is to-day and was in the days of Hamilton."  (The frieze was executed by muralist James M. Hewlett.)  Also on the ground floor were "lunch rooms and private dining rooms," according to the New York Herald.  A large library on the second floor could also be used for meetings.

photo by Anthony Bellov

College life throughout America was disrupted by the country's entry into World War I.  On April 5, 1918, a service flag was raised above the clubhouse and on November 10 that year, the university's president, Dr. Nicholas Murray Butler and Major Herbert C. Earnshaw, Commandant of the Students' Army Training Camp, spoke here.  "The war activities of the college will be the subject," announced The New York Times.

Shortly after the end of the war another issue--Prohibition--would rock the organization.  On the "first bone-dry prohibition day," as worded by The New York Times, an announcement informed members "that afternoon tea will now be a feature of the club's gayeties."  The article then reported on a serious side effect of the law's enactment.  "Prohibition...has also made it necessary to practically double the annual dues."

Prohibition crippled the finances of hotels, clubs and restaurants.  The condition was no doubt a major factor in the club's decision to alter the ground floor to provide additional income.  On October 1, 1922, the New York Herald reported, "The Columbia University Club will install stores in the club property...All but 25 of the 125 feet of frontage of their building will be changed on the grade floor into business use."  The practical renovation unfortunately greatly decimated Luce's Italian palazzo design.

Over the years, the Columbia University Club was home to distinguished alumni.  Among them were prominent architect Henry Rutgers Marshall; poet, novelist and editor Henry Morton Robinson; and retired Brigadier General Rodney Hamilton Smith.

One of the most colorful residents was William Cullen Bryant Kemp, described on the Columbia campus as the "perpetual student."  As a young man, Kemp was attending Columbia when his uncle left him $2,500 a year "as long as he remained at school."  (The income would equal about $50,000 a year today.)  He took the wording seriously and earned his first degree, a Bachelor of Arts, in 1868.  He continued to matriculate at Columbia, earning a list of degrees that included A.M.,  M.D.,  LL.M., LL.B, Ph.D., C.E., E.E., Mechanical Engineering, Pharmaceutical Engineering, and a B.S.  Kemp was living here on February 3, 1929 when he died at the age of 79.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

In 1922, although Prohibition was still in effect, the Columbia  University Club hired Irish-born Michael J. Dunne as its head bartender (presumably dispensing sodas, iced tea and such).  Although his only education was from an Irish primary school, he was a voracious reader.  The New York Times remarked that he, "could converse on a variety of topics with the many men of distinction who patronized his bar."

The members called Dunne "Serjeant," the title bestowed only on the highest class of barristers in England.  In 1960, author Henry Morton Robinson presided over a "large gathering in the club," as described by The New York Times, during which Dunne received the degree of D.D.L.," Doctor of Delectable Libations, and a scroll.

The following year, Dunn visited his birthplace, Engfield, County Meath, Ireland.  On his trip he became ill.  He made it back home before dying at the age of 71 on August 15, 1961.  He had held his position at the club for 39 years.

On February 13, 1973, the club's board of governors voted unanimously to sell the 43rd Street building.  John Reeves, the group's president, explained that the maintenance "had become too expensive for the needs of the 1,500 members."  The club moved into the Princeton Club at 15 West 43rd Street.

The former Columbia University Club building sat vacant for slightly more than two years before a buyer was found.  On May 7, 1975, The New York Times reported, "The Rev. Sun Myung Moon's Unification Church has purchased the former Columbia University Club building at 4 West 43d Street for use as its American headquarters."  The church had paid $1.2 million (about $7 million today) for the property.  A spokesperson said, "the upper floors would be used to house about 50 staff members and their families.

photo by Anthony Bellov

The Holy Spirit Association-Unification of World Christianity continues to use the building for its headquarters.  It, additionally, offers rental offices to non-profit organizations, and large spaces for events.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

The 1907 Hendrik Hudson - 380 Riverside Drive

 

image via streeteasy.com

On July 21, 1906, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide titled an article, "To Be the Largest Apartment House in Manhattan."  It reported that the architectural firm of Rouse & Sloan was designing the Hendrik Hudson apartments for Hendrik Hudson Co.  Facing Cathedral Parkway, or West 110th Street, it would engulf the Riverside Drive blockfront to 111th Street.

The journal said, "The facade in scheme will be that of an Italian villa, built of French Pierre de Lena limestone, brick and colored terra cotta, with [a] wide projecting Spanish tile roof, supported by large ornamental bronze brackets."  Notably, upon the roof on the Riverside Drive side would be two towers connected by a pergola.  All the windows facing Riverside Drive would have "wrought iron balconies, with window boxes for flowers in summer."  The article predicted that the Hendrik Hudson, "with its scheme of highly colored terra cotta, red tile and use of foliage," would "harmonize effectively with the picturesque surroundings of the Drive."

Rouse & Sloan released this rendering in 1906.  Record & Guide, July 21, 1906 (copyright expired)

The Hendrik Hudson was completed in October 1, 1907.  There were 14 apartments per floor, consisting of seven through nine rooms with two or three baths.  The rooms were "grouped around the foyers," according to the Record & Guide, and each apartment had a separate service entrance.  

The woodwork in the bedrooms in each of the 72 apartments (other than the servants' quarters) was painted in white enamel and the mahogany doors throughout had glass knobs.  Rents ranged from $1,500 to $3,000 per year, of about $4,300 to $8,600 per month in 2026 terms.

Apartment Houses of the Metropolis noted, "A billiard parlor as well as cafe for the convenience of tenants is maintained in the basement; also a first-class barber shop and ladies' hair dressing parlor."  

photograph by Irving Underhill from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The Hendrik Hudson filled with affluent families.  Among the initial residents was Dr. Julian P. Thomas, who could afford an automobile.  That vehicle and Thomas's lead foot got him into trouble on August 5, 1908.  The New York Times reported that he had been charged "with running at the rate of thirty-six miles an hour and giving a motorcycle policeman a chase of two miles at top speed."

Residents' names more often appeared because of social functions.  Such was the case on March 27, 1910 when The New York Times reported, "Mrs. Sydney B. Wight of 380 Riverside Drive gave an affair at her home on Tuesday for the benefit of the Fourth Presbyterian Church."  

Sydney Buckminster Wight, original source unknown

Ellen Chipman Wells Wight's husband, Sydney Buckminster Wight, was with the New York Central Railroad.  Born in Detroit, Michigan in 1856, he was educated in France and Germany and started his career with the railroads in 1891. 

Prominent residents were Professor Rudolf Tombo, Jr. and his second wife, Lorraine Bowes.  Tombo and his first wife, Adelaide Cooper were married in 1901, but she had the marriage annulled in 1911.  He and Lorraine were married in 1913.  Living with the couple was Tombo's daughter from his first marriage, Marion.

Rudolf Tombo Jr. The New York Times December 21, 1913 (copyright expired)

Tombo was born in Germany in 1875.  His father, Rudolf Tombo Sr., brought the family to New York City where he accepted a professorship at Columbia University.  Not, surprisingly, the younger Rudolf attended Columbia, earning his Masters of Arts in 1898, a Master of Science in 1899, and a Ph.D. in 1901.  Like his father, he was appointed an instructor of Germanic languages at Columbia University in 1900.  He was, as well, the director of the Deutsches Haus at that institution.  In 1901 he published his first work, Ossian in Germany.

In 1914, The New York Times described Tombo as being "well known in this country and in Germany as a lecturer on dramatic literature."  Early that year, he was considered for the presidency of the College of the City of New York.  In April, however, he "suffered a nervous breakdown from overwork," reported The New York Times.  The following month, on May 5, Lorraine told reporters that "she thought her husband had improved slightly and that if he could regain sufficient strength for the trip, he would be taken abroad for complete rest."

Despite Lorraine's optimism, Rudolf Tombo Jr. died in their apartment on May 21.  In reporting his death, The New York Times remarked that he had "a wide reputation in German-speaking Europe."

No doubt embittered by his first wife's having their marriage annulled, in his will Tombo directed that J. Boyce Smith, Jr. be made guardian of Marion Adelaide, who was now 11 years old.  The will said that because of the annulment, "Marion had no mother under the law and was now an orphan."  Surrogate Court Judge Cohalan did not agree.  On June 28, 1914, he ruled that because her biological mother, Adelaide Cooper Tombo, was alive, Marion would have to live with her.

A parlor in an unidentified apartment.  The dining room can be glimpsed through the wide doorway at left.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

All the residents of the Hendrik Hudson maintained a domestic staff.  Henry C. McClure's indiscretion in blurring the employee-employer relationship with one servant caused problems in 1918.  McClure was the general manager of Associated Newspapers.  He and his wife, Frances, were already embroiled in a domestic dispute on July 15 that year when she hauled her maid before Justice Finch to testify that McClure had kissed the young woman.

McClure had earlier accused Frances of infidelity, charging that he had "found Mrs. McClure in a compromising position."  Frances said the allegations were "preposterous, perjured and false."  Now she countered with her own divorce proceedings based on the maid incident.  The Sun reported on July 16, 1918 that although Henry McClure "admits that he kissed a pretty maid servant in his apartment at 380 Riverside Drive, he maintains stoutly that he only did it as a 'lark' and that there was nothing in his relations with the young woman to cause Mrs. Frances C. McClure to become in the least jealous."

A central light court and side courts supplied natural light to almost every room.  Apartment Houses of the Metropolis, (copyright expired)

Criminality among the Hendrik Hudson residents had never been more serious than vehicular speeding and kissing one's maid until 1925.  On February 26, police knocked on the door of Joseph C. Cooper, president of the American Bankers' Corporation at 65 Wall Street.  They asked to talk to 14-year-old Roy Cooper.  Initially, Cooper refused to let them enter but, according to The New York Times, "After they identified a radio set there as a stolen one, Mr. Cooper accompanied them to the police station."

Also at the police station was 16-year-old Robert Garrabrants.  Roy said he had received the radio, but did not know it was stolen.  He told detectives, "he had been intending to pay his friend Robert for it.  In a separate room, Garrabrants confessed to "a series of radio shop robberies" that he and Roy Cooper had committed.  Joseph Cooper provided bail for his son.  He told reporters that night that Roy "was not implicated in the theft of the radio apparatus."

Joseph Cooper's influence may have gotten his son off the hook.  On February 18, Roy was paroled in his father's custody and was now considered a material witness.

A month later, Roy Cooper and three other teens were arrested in Nyack for "stealing four bicycles at Fort Lee and several blankets at Nyack, attempting to enter a clothing store [in Nyack] and rifling a poor box in a church near Croton," as reported by The New York Times on March 28.  Roy Cooper was removed from his cell when his father arrived at the Nyack jail.  While Joseph Cooper was talking to Chief of Police Furey, Roy "released his three companions from the jail" and the group fled.

The newspaper reported, "The four New York boys who broke jail...eluded a score of pursuing policemen and were arrested yesterday at Poughkeepsie."  Because they were all under 16 years old, they were charged only with juvenile delinquency.

Roy Cooper's young criminal career continued.  Three years later, on March 20, 1928, The New York Times reported that he had been arrested in the Bronx with another teen for stealing an automobile.  Cooper had a loaded pistol on him.  Police said the pair "confessed that they had committed several robberies in the Bronx recently."

Much more respectable were Dr. William Carr and his wife, the former Sarah Renelshe.  Carr was a founder of the College of Dental Surgery of New York City.  He died on October 25, 1925 leaving more than $100,000 to charitable institutions.  The generous bequests would translate to nearly $1.8 million today.

Also living here at the time was Louis E. Miller and his wife, Dr. Helena Miller.  Born in Russia, Louis Miller was a moderate Socialist.  He had founded at least six Jewish newspapers, including the Jewish Daily Forward and the New Warheit, the latter of which he launched in 1925.

Other Russian immigrants in the building were concert violinist, composer and director Maurice Nitke and his wife, Ethel.  Born in 1879, he first played in Carnegie Hall in 1907.  He was appearing in the Cort Theatre in August 1927 when disaster happened.  

On the night of August 23, Nitke entered his dressing room only to discover that his 300-year-old Guarnarius violin, valued at $5,000, had "disappeared."  An investigator told reporters that the thief "apparently had entered the room with a key," since there was no access by the window.

Four nights later, John Shea returned to the scene of the crime, this time to steal a valuable cello.  Unaware that Detective Charles Dugan had been detailed to watch the theater, Shea (who was a truck driver) attempted to climb the fire escape in the alley leading to the stage entrance.  He was quickly nabbed.  At the West 47th Street station house, he confessed to stealing Nitke's violin.

The New York Times reported that Shea "led them to the home of a negro to whom he had sold it for $5."  The buyer, who was a musician, was not home.  Happily for Nitke, the violin was.

An interesting resident was Dr. Wesley M. Coates.  A graduate of the University of California, he and his wife, Sylvia, arrived in New York City and the Hendrik Hudson in 1936.  The 28-year-old physicist and inventor worked in the Crocker Research Laboratory of the Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center, which was devoted to cancer research.  He was described by its head, Dr. Francis Carter Wood, as "a brilliant electrical engineer."

While working here, Coates developed a new type of high-power vacuum tube.  The New York Times explained, "By the use of the tube, it was announced, X-rays were produced from mercury, instead of by the customary method."  

Tragically, at 5:00 on the afternoon of March 20, 1937, Coates brushed against a high-tension electrical conductor while adjusting an X-ray machine in the laboratory.  For nearly half and hour, physicians attempted to revive him, but the engineering prodigy was announced dead around 5:30.

A celebrated resident was comedian Frank Moulan, who lived here with his third wife, Elsie.  Born in Greenwich Village in 1872, Moulan made his stage debut with the Calhoun Opera Company.  He was described by The New York Times as the "leading comedian of innumerable Gilbert and Sullivan revivals and of Roxy's Gang on the radio."

Frank Moulan, The Theatre magazine, June 1903 (copyright expired)

In 1936 alone, he appeared at the Majestic Theatre as Lord Chancellor in Iolanthe, as Sir Joseph Porter in H.M.S. Pinafore; and as Major General Stanley in The Pirates of Penzance.  He personally staged all three productions.  Moulan died in his apartment here at the age of 67 on May 13, 1939.

The post-World War II years were unkind to the Hendrik Hudson.  When manager Fred W. Peavy pleaded guilty to 14 violations of the Office of Price Administration in November 1945, The New York Times described the building as "a rooming house."  Peavy rented rooms out by the week and the Government charged that he "had made overcharges to roomers of 50 cents to $4 a week."

In January 1946, the Hendrik Hudson Holding Corporation filed eviction procedures against "240 occupants of furnished rooms and small furnished apartments," as reported by The Times.  The attempt failed and nine years later, in February 1955, the building was purchased by the Eastpearl Realty Corporation.  Once home to refined families in commodious apartments, the building now held 536 rented rooms.

The change of ownership did not improve the conditions.  On December 2, 1958, city inspectors combed through the Hendrik Hudson.  The Deputy Commissioner of the Building Department Bernice P. Rogers said the "lobby was the last visible vestige of quality."  She and her inspectors called the building, "a slum with a view" and she remarked, "This type of living may be legal, but it's wrong morally, socially and ethically."

Only four days later, on December 6, a 14-year-old boy was fatally crushed in one of the elevators.  It began to fall with the door still open at the seventh floor.  The car stopped halfway past the sixth floor and Stanley Guinn lifted a little girl onto the sixth floor and to safety.  Then the car started to fall again and Guinn's head and shoulders "became trapped between the top of the elevator and the edge of the landing."  Later that week, the District Attorney's Office deemed his death a homicide and held the building's owners responsible.

The incident prompted the sale of the building and a renovation in 1959.  The New York Times noted, "The new owners had to persuade the old tenants--some of them prostitutes, narcotics addicts and other undesirables--to move.  On April 17, 1960, the newspaper reported, "The conversion of one of the city's worst slum buildings into a modern apartment house is nearing completion at 380 Riverside Drive.

The renovations, which cost $750,000 (equal to nearly $8 million today), created small apartments.  They, unfortunately, also removed much of the architectural features of the facade, including the northern tower.  The Hendrik Hudson was converted to a co-op in 1971.  

Among the early owners were Sho Onodera and his wife, Michiko.  Onodera was an actor, one-time journalist and Japanese-English interpreter.  He was known to television audiences for his roles in the Teahouse of the August Moon on "Hallmark Hall of Fame," and in the "Philco Playhouse" and "Robert Montgomery Presents" shows.  His motion picture credits included The Taking of Pelham One Two Three.

photo by Scott Bintner/Property Shark

Despite the late 20th century brutalization of Rouse & Sloan's design, the Hendrik Hudson survives as a reminder of the grand apartment buildings that lined this area of Riverside Drive at the turn of the last century.

Emile L. Capel's 1915 129 East 69th Street

 

image via cityrealty.com

On December 6, 1913, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported on the death of one of America's foremost architects, George B. Post.  The lengthy obituary mentioned, "His town house was at 129 East 69th street."  Developers Brixton Building Corporation wasted little time in acquiring the mansion from the Post estate, along with five other residences that faced Lexington Avenue.  In November 1915, architect Emile L. Capel filed plans for an 11-story apartment building on the site.  They estimated the construction costs at $450,000--about $14.5 million in 2026 terms.

The building's design is the first on record (at least in New York City) of the recondite architect.  Capel filed plans for only one more building and two renovations before 1920, when he sat on the board of directors of the newly formed New York Architectural Club, Inc.  He falls into obscurity after that.

Emile L. Capel produced a neo-Georgian-style structure faced in red Flemish bond brick and trimmed with creamy terra cotta.  The dignified arched entrance sat between double-height, paired and fluted pilasters with palm leaf capitals.  The large terra cotta spandrels of the two-story base on the 69th Street side were decorated classical urns.

An intermediate cornice introduced the midsection, its frieze ornamented with alternating urns and anthemions.  The urn motif reappeared in the stepped lintels of the third floor and in the spandrels between the 10th- and 11th-floor openings.

In 1917, Lexington Avenue was paved in brick and a streetcar track ran down its center. image via urbanarchive.org.

Among the initial residents was Major Frank C. Grugan.  Born in 1842, he was educated in France and upon returning home in 1861 enlisted in the Union Army.  The New York Herald reported, "He fought in twelve important battles, including Gettysburg."  A life-long military man, he would see combat "against the Indians in the West," as worded by the New York Herald, and in Cuba during the Spanish-American War.  When he moved into 129 East 69th Street, he was a widower.

In July 1918, Harold Garrison Villard and his wife, the former Mariquita Serrano, took a duplex apartment here.  The son of millionaire journalist and financier Henry Villard, he and Mariquita were married in 1897.  They had three children, Henry Serrano, Vincent Serrano and Mariquita Serrano.  The children were 18, 17, and 13 years old respectively when the family moved in.

Henry Villard was overseas at the time.  He had left Harvard to volunteer as a driver in the Italian Ambulance Service.  At the war's end, he returned and graduated in 1921.  

Harold Garrison Villard in 1915.  Twenty-fifth Anniversary Report, Harvard University Class of 1890 (copyright expired)

Harold Villard's mother, Fanny Garrison Villard, died on July 5, 1928.  The bulk of her estate, "estimated to be worth more than $10,000,000," according to The New York Times, was divided between Harold and his brother, Oswald.  (The figure would translate to about $183 million today.)  Additionally, she left $50,000 to Mariquita and $10,000 each to her grandchildren.  Mariquita's inheritance would equal about $185,000 today.

Vincent Serrano Villard was married to Katharine A. Tomkins on August 2, 1928.  The New York Times remarked, "Owing to the recent death of Mrs. Henry Villard, only members of the families and a few intimate friends were present at the  ceremony."

In the meantime, a 10th-floor corner apartment of "8 large rooms and foyer" with three baths was advertised in January 1920 at $5,600 per year, about $7,300 per month in today's terms.

A current view of a duplex apartment hints of the scope of the spaces.  via cityrealty.com

Among the tenants at the time were Impressionist artist Francis Sterling Dixon and his wife, Rosalie Turner Hooker.  The couple was married on August 10, 1915 "a short time after she had obtained a divorce in Idaho from Professor William Welling of Trinity College," according to The New York Times.  

Francis and Rosalie Dixon on their wedding day in 1915.  from the collection of the Bibliotheque Nationale de France

Dixon was born in September 1879 and studied at the Art Students League.  With deep American roots, he was a member of the Society of Colonial Wars and the Sons of the Revolution.  His artistic proclivity earned him memberships to the Allied Artists of America, the Connecticut Academy of Fine Arts, the Salmagundi Club, and the Players.

A typical Francis S. Dixon landscape.

The Dixons had a son, Francis Jr.  Unfortunately for the marriage, as had happened in 1915, Rosalie had a wandering eye.  She traveled to Paris in 1925, obtained a divorce, and announced her engagement to British Captain Rowland W. Cash.  Then, on January 26, 1926, The New York Times reported that the engagement had been broken.  Instead, in April she married Prince Levan Melikov de Somhetie, described by the New York Evening Post, as the "claimant to the non-existent throne of Georgia."

Domestic problems were plaguing another socially prominent couple in the building at the time.  Born in 1894 to millionaire Oliver Harriman Jr., Oliver Carley Harriman was described by the Syracuse, New York Journal in 1926 as "the son of Mrs. Oliver Harriman, one of the most admired and popular women in New York society," adding, "His father, Oliver Harriman, and his grandfather, also named Oliver Harriman, were powers in Wall Street." 

Harriman married socialite Loise Roberts Bisbee on June 7, 1915 and they had two daughters.  According to the Journal, "at the time of his marriage, he was the youngest member of the New York Stock Exchange, and said to be earning a large income from various sources."  The young broker was also a "prominent figure at the horse shows and polo matches at Westchester, Long Island and Newport," said the newspaper.

Like Rosalie Dixon, the handsome Oliver Carley Harriman had a wandering eye.  U.S. Passport photograph

Oliver Carley Harriman was career driven and according to the Journal, his "intense ambition" caused him to "frequent rather mixed company in the evening."  In fact, the "company" that kept him away from the couple's apartment on many of those nights was not always a business associate.  On July 28, 1923, Loise read a news article about a trolley car accident.  Among the witnesses was "Mrs. Harriman."  A puzzled Loise dug into her husband's nocturnal nightlife.

Fashion model Harriet Hewitt lived in an apartment at 206 East 61st Street, the rent of which was paid by Harriman.  The residents of the building knew Helen as "Mrs. Harriman."  An indignant and angry Loise left 129 East 69th Street and filed for divorce in December 1923.  Even before the divorce was granted, rumors within high society said that Oliver Carley Harriman intended to marry Helen Hewitt.  And he did.

A disturbing and bizarre incident happened here in the fall of 1928.  Antiques dealer William F. Cooper and his wife, Martha, had previously lived in an apartment on East 66th Street.  In 1923, Martha suffered a stroke but recovered.  Then in 1927 William was hospitalized for three months after an operation, during which Martha "fretted herself into a nervous breakdown," according to The New York Times.  Both she and her husband recovered.

In September 1928, they moved into a seventh-story apartment in 129 East 69th Street.  Unlike the quiet block of 66th Street, "all day long the clang of the surface cars floated in through the apartment windows," said The New York Times.  

On September 22--the Coopers' first Saturday night in the apartment--they had friends over.  After their guests left, William went to bed.  Martha wrote a note to her husband, sealed it and left it on the dining room table.  She then took a photograph of William from its frame and "carefully cut out the likeness of his face."  Clutching it, she then leaped to her death from the apartment window.  Her note explained, "she could not stand the eternal sound of the street cars."

The Robert Ackermans' apartment had been given an Art Deco make-over before this photograph was taken in 1935.  photo by Samuel H. Gottscho from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

Lloyd Paul Stryker, his wife, the former Katherine Traux, and their daughter occupied an apartment here as early as 1929.  Born in Chicago in 1885, Stryker graduated from New York Law School in 1909.  The Yale Biographical Dictionary of American Law said he "became famous as a flamboyant criminal lawyer."  In March 1929, he was nominated by President Calvin Coolidge as a Federal judge for the Southern District of New York.  

Stryker came into the national spotlight in 1948 when he was the lead defense counsel in the two criminal cases against Alger Hiss.  Life magazine published an article on Stryker in 1947 titled: "Trial Lawyer: Lloyd Paul Stryker is Archetype of Vanishing Courtroom Virtuoso."

image by Wurts Bros from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Another prominent attorney in the building at midcentury was Frank Lyon Polk.  He and his wife, the former Katherine Hoppin Salvage, whom he married in 1934, had three sons: Frank Jr., Samuel S. and William M.  Polk's father was Under-Secretary of State under Woodrow Wilson and he headed the American delegation to the Paris Peace Conference after World War I.  Frank was also the great-nephew of President James Knox Polk.  The family's summer home was at Fishers Island, New York.

Polk became ill in 1952 and was hospitalized in Doctors Hospital.  Calling him "a member of a socially prominent family," on September 20 The New York Times reported that he had died there at the age of 40.

Katherine Polk and her sons remained in the apartment.  In December 1959, she announced Frank Jr.'s engagement to Nancy Holliday Wear.  In reporting on the event, The New York Times commented on Frank's maternal pedigree.  "He is a grandson of Lady Salvage of Glen Head, L. I., [and] the late Sir Samuel Agar Salvage.

Three years later, it was Katherine Polk's turn to wed.  Her marriage to John Currie Wilmerding, the former husband of Lila Vanderbilt Webb, was celebrated in Old Westbury on April 28, 1962.

Photographed in 1943, this top floor duplex enjoyed a lush roof garden.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Never married, Florence Wardell also lived here at midcentury.  Born in Brooklyn and having graduated from Bryn Mawr College in 1898, she had been active in Republican women's activities for decades.  She was vice chairman of the Republican Women's State Executive Committee in 1922, was a delegate to the National Republican Convention in 1928, and worked on Herbert Hoover's Presidential campaign.

Following World War I, Hoover requested her to go to Washington to help him provide relief for the Belgians.  She was later decorated by the Belgium Government for her service.  She fell ill in 1959 and died in her apartment at the age of 82 on February 12.

Investment broker Francis F. Randolph and his wife, Mary Hill Hadley, who lived here by the 1960s, filled their apartment with a remarkable art collection.  Although he sat on the boards of several corporations and was a trustee of institutions, he and Mary were best known for their involvement in the arts.  Francis was chairman of the finance committee of the Metropolitan Opera Guild, a patron of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and the Pierpont Morgan Library.  The New York Times mentioned that they "gave a number of works of art and incunabula to Vassar College."

image via 6sqft.com

The building, designed by a nearly unknown architect, survives almost entirely intact.