In two phases--completed in 1890 and 1892--developer Francis J. Schnugg erected 17 abutting houses on the northern side of East 95th Street between Park and Madison Avenues. Nearly filling the blockfront, they were designed by Louis Entzer Jr. in a happy blend of styles. Among the second phase was 123 East 95th Street, a mirror image of No. 125. The structures' Rorschach-like design was best exemplified in the shared molding and Renaissance Revival carving that straddled the doorways.
Along with side-by-side stoops, the parlor floor ornaments unified the pair.
Entzer's potpourri of styles included Gothic Revival inspired square-headed moldings at the parlor level, the Renaissance Revival carving above the doors and faceted oriels at the second floor in the same style, Romanesque Revival arched windows and eyebrows at the third floor, and neo-Classical swags and wreaths in the pressed metal cornices.
No. 123 was purchased by Felix Hamberger, an insurance broker. The family's upper-middle-class status was reflected in their ads looking for domestic help. In wealthy families, the roles of the staff were highly defined, while in middle-class homes servants took on several responsibilities. An advertisement on October 2, 1895 read: "General housework and plain cooking for family, adults. 123 East 95th st." and the following year, on June 15, 1896, an ad sought a "Girl to do plain cooking, washing and ironing for small family of adults."
Francis Schnugg reclaimed the house in foreclosure in 1902. It was sold to Bernard Neuhaus who resold it to Charles Gulden in June 1906. Gulden purchased the house as an investment and leased it to Dr. George A. Friedman and his wife. The couple had two small children.
Among the Friedmans' staff was Katie Becker, described by the New York Herald as "a Hungarian girl of 22." On April 27, 1912, the newspaper said that Katie was "such a model maidservant that [the couple] wouldn't part with her for anything. Peace and quiet usually follow Katies ministrations to household needs."
That peace and quiet was shattered the the night of April 25. Dr. Friedman came home late from a meeting at Mount Sinai Hospital. "He found his wife and Katie in the dining room, where Katie had prepared a late supper," said the New York Herald. Just as Friedman sat down in the basement level dining room, Katie remarked that she smelled smoke. The doctor investigated and found the portieres between the living room and his consulting room were on fire. The fire was put out, but Katie was "greatly excited."
Dr. Friedman assumed that Katie had accidentally set the curtains on fire while lighting the gas fixtures. He told Katie that "she wouldn't be scolded," but she insisted that she had nothing to do with the fire. Unconvinced, Friedman and his wife went back to their dinner and Katie went upstairs.
Seconds later, the Friedmans were jolted by Katie's screams. The doctor bolted out of the basement door to find a policeman. The street was busy with men and women who were leaving a dance nearby. By the time Friedman brought back a policeman, he found his parlor floor crowded with passersby who "had run in to find out what the matter was." He also found Katie, "lying on the floor under a small table."
The curtain incident had been, apparently, a distraction by an intruder. When Katie came to, she told of entering her room to surprise a "big man." She told investigators that he "put chloroform to her mouth and then dragged her downstairs, throwing her into the room where she was found," according to the newspaper. Other than the $2.50 that had been in her purse, the intruder took nothing.
Because of that, police did not believe Katie's story. The New York Herald said, "The police were somewhat inclined to think that Katie's digestion was out of order." Her employer, however, trusted her. Dr. Friedman now accepted that the "queer burglar" had set the curtains on fire and "that it was a real adventure that Katie met with when she climbed the stairs." The article said, "So Katie won't loose her job on a charge of being too imaginative."
Dr. Friedman placed what many readers must have consider a bizarre ad in the "Lost" columns of The New York Times on July 14, 1913. "LOST--Six rubber stomach tubes, July 9, on Lexington car, 118th St.; reward. Physician, 123 East 95th St., 9 to 1 P.M."
The Friedmans continued to rent 123 East 95th Street through 1918. On January 28, 1919, the New-York Tribune reported that the Charles Gulden Estate had leased it to Mrs. Harry Symonds. She was still occupying the house when the Charles Gulden Estate offered it for sale in November 1920.
It is unclear whether Mrs. Symonds continued to lease the house from the new owner, or if she, in fact, was the purchaser. Either way, she continued to live here. Her vocation was the breeding of pedigree Pekingese dogs and in 1921 a dozen of her dogs were listed in The American Kennel Gazette and Stud Book.
On December 12, 1925, Noble T. Macfarland and Helen Brantingham were married in Rockford, Illinois. Macfarland was a 1919 graduate of Amherst College and was a partner in Beckhard & Macfarlane, concert promoters. The February 1926 issue of the Amherst Graduates' Quarterly noted, "They live at 123 East 95th Street."
As early as 1929, Henry Anderson Rapp (known as Harry) and his wife, the former Elizabeth Reilly, occupied the house. The couple was married in 1927 and on January 7, 1929, The New York Times reported that their daughter had been born the previous day. Suzanne Elizabeth would get a sister, Elizabeth Pamela, in 1936.
Sharing the house by then were Henry's older brother, William J., and his wife, the former Martha Florentine Geyer Rapp. A maritime attorney, Henry was a partner in the law firm Hann & Rapp. Also living here was the brothers' widowed mother, Anna G. Reilly Rapp. Anna was born in 1870. Her husband and William's and Harry's father, Francis Berkely Rapp, died in 1921.
A young Anna G. Reilly Rapp as she appeared around the 1890s. (original source unknown)
It was almost assuredly the Rapps who altered the parlor opening to French windows with multiple panes sometime before 1940.
The updated parlor window was in place in 1940. via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services
The Harry Rapp family's trip to the Bronx on July 4, 1940 was doubly unlucky. They got a flat tire in Pelham Manor and Harry pulled over to change it. While he worked, Forest L. Appelby, Jr. slammed his car into the rear of Harry's. The Daily Argus of Mount Vernon, New York reported, "Both cars were considerably damaged."
Anna G. Rapp died at the age of 75 on October 11, 1946. Her estate of "more than $10,000," according to the New York Star Journal, was divided equally among her six children.
By the time of Susanne Elizabeth's engagement to E. D. Farrell Sullivan in January 1951, her family had moved to 118 East 93rd Street. William and Martha continued to live in the East 95th Street house.
William J. Rapp, who was still actively working at the time, died of a heart attack on December 19, 1965 at the age of 73. It is unclear how long Martha continued to live at 123 East 95th Street.
An original mantelpiece survives on the parlor floor. image via streeteasy.com
At some point, the house was converted to a two-family home. Much of the interior detailing survives and from the exterior the house has changed little since the parlor windows were updated in the early 20th century.
photographs by the author
.png)
No comments:
Post a Comment