Max Muller's 1905 169 Rivington Street

photograph by Carole Teller

As early as 1904, Dr. Moses Duckman and his family shared their home at 169 Rivington Street with Professor Abraham Hochman.  Born in 1868, Duckman and his wife, Rebecca, had four daughters, Miriam, Naomi, Ethel and Grace, and two sons, Simon and Bert.

Abraham Hochman was a local celebrity of sorts.  His "professor" title did not come from his teaching, but his purported extraordinary powers.  He was a clairvoyant.  On May 3, 1904, for instance, he appeared in the Essex Market police court to give bail for one of seven men arrested for burglary.  The magistrate asked, "What is your business?"

Hochman replied, "I am a mind reader.  I am Professor Abram Hochman of 169 Rivington Street."  He explained to the magistrate that he had read the accused's mind and knew that, while he was in the room at the time of the crime, he was not a part of it.  He added:

"I can also read your mind.  You will discharge him when the case comes up before you tomorrow.  Therefore, I have no hesitation on going on his bond.  If he were guilty, I would know it and I would not bail him.

The Duckmans and Hochman would have to find temporary accommodations soon after that encounter.  Moses Duckman acquired the property next door at 171 Rivington Street, demolished both structures, and hired architect Max Muller to design a store-and-tenement building on the site. 

Completed in 1905, the 40-foot-wide building rose five stories above a basement.  The basement's notable height accommodated two commercial spaces that flanked the stone stoop.  Muller faced the upper floors with variegated beige brick and cream-colored terra cotta.  Molded intermediate cornices divided the facade into three sections.  Terra cotta was molded into elaborate Italian Renaissance-style ornamentation including Scamozzi columns with intricate bases on either side of the entrance, paneled Corinthian piers that framed the first floor windows, elaborate faux balconies with triangular pediments at the second floor, and arched pediments embellished with ornate cartouches at the fourth.

Among Duckman's first tenants was, perhaps not surprisingly, Professor Abram Hochman.  He had barely settled into his new home when he appeared in newsprint again.  On May 23 the stable of Abraham Baumwald, a peddler, was broken into and his horse and wagon were stolen.  The theft put Baumwald out of business.  On June 1, The Sun reported, "On Tuesday night a man with long hair, who announced himself as Prof. Hochman of 169 Rivington street, went to the station house and said to the sergeant in charge: 'I know where Baumwald's horse is.'"

Upon questioning, Hochman explained, "I read it by my mind."  Police did not scoff at the revelation.  Hochman's reputation was well established.  They went to 136 Hester Street, as Hochman directed, and found Baumwald's stolen horse.

Hochman's talents were more often used for finding husbands than for stolen horses.  In her 2024 Mortimer and the Witches, Marie Carter writes that Hochman was referred to as "The Richest Man on Rivington Street" and explains, "Thanks to Hochman's affordable fees and high success rates, the press often reported he was trailed by 'wildly gesticulating women.'"

Professor Abraham Hochman, The Jewish Calendar 1910 (copyright expired)

Professor Abraham Hochman's visions and predictions ran the gambit.  He accurately predicted the winners of upcoming horse races for members of his club, the Florrie Sullivan Association; foretold Theodore Roosevelt's victory over Alton B. Parker in the 1904 Presidential election; and predicted the Japanese victory over Russia in the 1904 Russo-Japanese War.

On February 24, 1906, the New-York Tribune reported, "Dr. Moses Duckman transferred title as a gift yesterday to Nos. 169 and 171 Rivington-st...to Rebecca Duckman his wife."  It was around the same time that the Duckman family moved to Brooklyn.

Elaborate terra cotta Renaissance Revival details embellish the building.  photograph by Carole Teller

Nathan Flauman's saloon occupied one of the basement spaces as early as 1909, and he and his family lived in one of the upstairs apartments.  At the same time, Abraham Goldman and his son, Louis, ran a clothing business in Brooklyn.  According to Assistant District Attorney Wasservogel later, "the two were hard pressed for money and in some way ascertained that Nathan Flauman, a wealthy saloon keeper, at No. 169 Rivington street, was seeking a husband for his only daughter, Mary."  The younger Goldman, who was married with three children, posed as an eligible bachelor and "ingratiated himself into Father Flauman's good graces and offered himself as a husband for his daughter," as reported by The Evening World.

The couple became engaged and Flauman held an engagement party on July 13, 1909.  Before Nathan Flauman and the heart-broken Mary discovered the scheme, he had given Louis Goldman $1,500--nearly $55,000 in 2026 money.  Flauman had him arrested for grand larceny.  While the jury acquitted Abraham Goldman, Louis was convicted.

The incident was not the last time that the trusting saloon keeper was bamboozled.  On March 31, 1910, Jacob Bellis, aka Max Blumfield, entered the saloon carrying a machine.  He told Nathan Flauman that the contraption would produce money.  To prove it, Bellis placed a blank piece of paper into the machine, poured in some chemicals, and turned the crank.  The New York Times reported, "In a few minutes a crisp $10 bill came out."  He repeated the demonstration and Flauman became interested.  Bellis then set his hook.  He took out a $100 bill, placed it into the machine with a sheet of paper, turned the crank and the original rolled out along with a new bill.

The New York Times reported, "As Flouman [sic] was suspicious; Bellis took him to a bank, where he changed the two $100 bills."  The Evening World said, "So Flauman beat it to the Fourteenth Street Bank and reduced the deposits of that institution by $4,780, his entire balance.  Then Miss Mary dug into her own lisle thread safe deposit vault and came to the front with $200 more."  That evening Bellis and his partner arrived at the Flaumans' apartment.  As the accomplice dickered over the machine, he held up the sponge soaked with chemicals and said to the family, "Just smell this; hasn't it a sweet odor?"

The Evening World reported, "It had.  It was chloroform, and straightway the family went into its golden dream.  When it awoke both the money and men were gone.  Adding insult to injury, they even took along the furniture."

Mary Flauman went to the police, but got no results.  Then, a year later, she saw Bellis and a woman on Third Avenue near 14th Street.  "He took to his heels down Second Avenue," reported The New York Times.  Mary chased after him, shouting.  A crowd caught him, reported The Evening World on April 6, 1911, noting, "If he is convicted he may get twenty years."

Two months earlier, Abram Hochman had again faced a judge, but this time in his own defense.  On February 22, 1911, Detective Szerlip told Magistrate Breen "that Hochman had told him that we would be the recipient of a large sum of money from the estate of his deceased uncle and that this money would come to him quicker if [he] would throw a match over his shoulder and think of his father," as reported by the New York Herald.  Hochman was accused by the detective of being a fortune teller.

This time, Hochman did not profess extrasensory powers.  The New York Herald recounted, "Hochman said that his business was publishing rather than fortune telling and that he was the publisher of a book entitled 'The Jewish Almanac,' which was in the libraries of the New York University, Yale and other institutions."  He denied ever telling Szerlip about his upcoming windfall.  Hochman's sister, Eugenia, corroborated his testimony.  Magistrate Appleton dismissed the case for insufficient evidence.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Insurance broker Maylich Breihart and his wife, Bertha, moved into 169 Rivington Street around 1918.  They had two sons, Bernard and Charles, and two daughters, Pauline and Sadie.  The enterprising couple filed bankruptcy separately on December 18, that year, but they were not defeated.  On January 8, 1920, Maylich was one of three partners who incorporated the Clibart Realty Corporation.  He was highly involved in Jewish charities and organizations, with memberships in a dozen groups including the Burshtiner Sick and Benevolent Society, the Home of the Sons and Daughters of Israel, and the Independent Kalischer Sick and Benevolent Society.

Bertha Briethard died at the age of 64 on January 18, 1921.  Her funeral was held in their apartment the following day.  Maylich survived her by a year, dying of pneumonia at the age of 65 in Mt. Sinai Hospital on May 21, 1922.  His funeral, too, was held in the apartment.

As early as 1923, the office of attorney Eugene Moss occupied one of the commercial spaces.  He was admitted to the bar in 1921 and would practice here at least through 1931.

At midcentury, Samuel Braun was the landlord of 169 Rivington Street.  He owned three other buildings in the Lower East Side.  On March 29, 1960, he was fined $400 "for permitting a defective gas range and for failure to provide proper heat" at 169 Rivington Street, as reported by The New York Times.  This was not the first time that Braun had been in trouble.  The article said that the previous year he had been cited for "fraudulently applying for rent increases" and "has had thirteen previous convictions for Health Code violations."

photograph by Carole Teller

There are 12 residential units in 169 Rivington Street today.  Max Muller's dignified treatment of a tenement building survives essentially intact, all the while masking the astonishing history that has played out inside.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post