The 1929 240 East 79th Street

Frederick Godwin's upper floor design was created, mostly, by strategically placed small, medium and large-sized windows.

The Great Depression was one year away in 1928.  Raymond B. Fenner was the president of the newly formed 240 East 79th Street Corporation and that year the syndicate hired Godwin, Thompson & Patterson to design a 16-story-and-penthouse apartment building on the south side of East 79th Street between Second and Third Avenues.  Reportedly, Frederick Godwin was the lead architect on the project.  The plans, filed on December 10, 1928, projected the costs at $300,000, or about $5.6 million in 2026 terms.

For the most part, Godwin's Art Deco design was unexciting.  Faced in rough-faced variegated brown brick, its scheme relied greatly on the placement of fenestration and thin vertical lines of darker brick.  But the single-story base was another story altogether.

Godwin faced it with orange-hued tiles set off with vibrant mossy-green terra cotta.  At the corners were fluted pilasters topped with curved volutes that suggest that another half is hidden in the adjoining wall.  Similar pilasters flank two narrow windows, their caps fully formed and embracing an octagonal plaque of veined gray stone.  The tour-de-force is the entranceway.  Reeded gray stone pilasters on either side are topped with Empire State Building-like silhouettes.  Above the entrance, the address is announced in Art Deco lettering.  A sinuous hood, like a cresting wave or calla lily petal, sits above a large octagonal gray stone plaque.

On August 25, 1929 The New York Times reported that artist Ruth Carroll had been hired "to paint murals for the entrance hall of the new sixteen-story apartment house."  The article said, "Her paintings will depict the skyline, bridges and vistas of modern New York."  Two weeks earlier, the newspaper had reported that 240 East 79th Street "is rapidly nearing completion and is nearly 50 per cent leased."

An advertisement in Town & Country on September 15, 1929 offered three- or four-room apartments with one or two baths and "large living rooms, outside dining rooms."  Rents started at $1,350 a year, or about $2,100 a month in today's terms.  There were two "sky maisonettes" on the penthouse level.  An advertisement in The New Yorker noted that they included, "real kitchens."

Among those who signed leases during construction were Percy O'Gorman, advertising manager of Durham Duplex Razor Company; Dr. Claude E. Heaton; Dr. Anthony Fugassi; and Charles E. Gautier, secretary of J. H. Gautier Company, a crucibles firm.  

Taking one of the penthouses was the 24-year-old Charles Cavendish.  Upon his moving in, The New York Sun remarked on June 17, 1930, "Lord Charles, who is the second son of the Duke of Devonshire, is engaged in the banking business in New York."  Cavendish worked for J. P. Morgan & Co. and was romantically involved with Adele Astaire, the sister of Fred Astaire and his dancing partner.  The two had met in London in 1927.  Cavendish's residency here would be relatively short.  On October 23, 1931, Reuters reported that Adele "confirmed her engagement to Lord Charles Cavendish."  The couple was married in Chatsworth House, Cavendish's ancestral home near Chesterfield, England, in 1932 and they remained there.

Newlyweds Gardner Hale and Dorothy A. Donovan were also initial residents.  Hale was born in Chicago in 1894 and educated at Yale.  He studied art in Rome and Paris and at the Art Students League in New York.  Hale was well-known as a muralist and, according to The New York Sun, was "generally credited with the revival in this country of fresco painting."  Gardner and Dorothy were married in 1929.  She was his second wife.  His first wife was author Marie Louise Gibson, who used the pseudonym Maryse Rutledge.  They were divorced in 1926.

In November 1931, Gardner and Dorothy Hale went to Long Beach, California for a six-month stay.  On December 28, Hale headed for San Francisco alone.  The next day, The New York Sun reported, "The body of Gardner Hale, young painter of murals and frescoes, was found yesterday at the bottom of a 500-foot precipice, forty miles from Santa Maris, where his automobile had plunged from a highway."  Hale was 37 years old.

Azel Farnsworth Hatch and Dorothy Doane were married in August 1932 and moved into one of the penthouses.  Hatch, who had served in World War I and decorated with the Croix de Guerre, was president of A. F. Hatch & Co., bankers.  

Four months later, on December 10, the Times Union reported that Dorothy "was found in their penthouse apartment...early today with a bullet wound over her heart.  The shot was fired from a Luger pistol, war souvenir of her husband."

Police found Dorothy in a negligee on the living room floor.  According to the Times Union, Dorothy muttered, "I did it myself," then lapsed into a coma.  Hatch told the police that Dorothy had discovered the firearm while "cleaning out a closet."  She "asked her husband what she was to do with it," recounted The New York Times.  "It was discharged and a bullet entered her chest."  The incident was deemed an accident; however, Hatch was charged with a violation of the Sullivan Law, an early gun control statute.

The boyish-looking Azel F. Hatch earned $100,000 a year, according to his wife (a comfortable $2.3 million today).  The Daily News, December 19, 1936.

The Hatches' marriage did not last and when Dorothy filed for separation on December 18, 1936, she told the court the truth of the incident four years earlier.  The Daily News reported, "It was attempted murder, and not an accident, she told the Manhattan Supreme Court."  The New York Post said in part:

Telling the Supreme Court about it, she said she was sitting on her husband's lap, weeping and pleading with him about something or other on the night of December 9, 1932.  Without warning, she said, her husband picked up a German Luger pistol, a little trinket he had taken from some German prisoner, and shot her.

Azel Hatch, not surprisingly, gave a different version of the incident (although this one, too, differed from the couple's original story).  He said that Dorothy had "snatched up the gun and fired it herself."  He added that he "didn't stop her when she grabbed the gun because he was amused.  Besides, he was sure the gun wasn't loaded."  Dorothy obtained her divorce and Azel was never charged with attempted murder.

Another titled resident, Josef Franz, Archduke of Austria and Prince of Hungary, and his wife, Princess Anna of Saxony, moved into 240 East 79th Street in 1937.  The couple was married in October 1924 and had five children.  (Three more would come later.)  Archduke Josef Franz was born in 1895 to the last Palatine of Hungary.

Archduke Joseph Franz and Princess Anna Monika Pia.  (original source unknown)

The Nazi annexation of Austria had made staying in Europe dangerous for the family.  The members of the imperial family discovered that they would quickly need to adapt to American rules and customs.  The same applied to the family's staff.  On January 7, 1938, The New York Times reported, "Archduke Franz Josef of Austria was fined a dollar for overtime parking."  The Archduke's chauffeur explained in traffic court, "the Archduke is unfamiliar with traffic regulations here," said the article.

America's entry to World War II resulted in several residents of 240 West 79th Street going off to the front.  Dr. Emil E. Napp, who lived here with his wife, the former Ruth Marschalk, was on the staff of the Flower-Fifth Avenue Hospital.  He became a commander with the Navy Medical Corps in the South Pacific.  Napp received the Navy and Marine Corps medal for his work on Guadalcanal in 1942, and was awarded the Silver Star on May 19, 1944.

Another resident doctor was Gurney Taylor.  He rose to the rank of lieutenant colonel with the American Seventh Army in France.  He was attached to the Ninth Evacuation Hospital in the Vosges Forest, which was, somewhat astonishingly, "manned by the veteran Roosevelt Hospital Unit from New York," as reported by The New York Times on October 29, 1944.

240 East 79th Street soared above the neighboring buildings in 1940.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Two other residents returned from the war in 1945.  One was Captain Carel Van Heukelom, and the other Barbara Murphy, one of 280 volunteer workers of the American Red Cross who served in the European theatre of operations.  Barbara told a reporter that "she had driven a clubmobile during her eighteen months overseas," adding, "Oh, I made the Grand Tour."

A fascinating resident was Marjorie T. Bellows, here at midcentury.  Born in 1906, she earned her masters degree in statics at the Columbia School of Public Heath.  From 1928 to 1929 she was senior statistician at the New York State Health Department.  She joined the American Heart Association in 1946 and became its senior staff member.  While there she directed investigations into the statistical aspects of cardiovascular issues, like rheumatic fever.  Bellows, who never married, developed the technique of "case registers," that analyzed the nature and uses of recording systems in public health administration.

Among Marjorie Bellows's neighbors in the building at the time was actress Lili Darvas.  Born in Hungary in 1902, she made a name on the Budapest stage as a young woman, debuting in 1921 as the female lead in Romeo and Juliet.  She married playwright Ferenc Molnar in 1926.  Lili was appearing in Vienna in 1938 when the Nazi troops invaded.  She said later that "she simply packed her things, walked onto a train to Switzerland and departed" with her Hungarian passport.  

The couple arrived in New York and Lili Darvas first appeared on stage here in 1941 in The Criminals.  Molnar died in 1952, and Lili continued acting, appearing in roles that most often portrayed characters fitting her European background.  Such was the case when she played the domineering mother of Sigmund Freud in the Henry Denker drama A Far Country.

Lili Darvas and Billy Mumy in a 1961 Twilight Zone episode, "Long Distance Call."  CBS Television publicity shot.

The indefatigable actress did not restrict herself to the stage, film or television.  On June 13, 1963, The New York Times interviewed her regarding her upcoming catering stint.  She had been asked by another actress to prepare an after-theater dinner party for 50 guests.

Lili Darvas died in her apartment here on August 22, 1974 at the age of 72.  

In September 1984, The New York Times reported that 240 East 79th Street was undergoing a cooperative conversion.   Among the new apartment owners in 1989 was bond trader Jeffrey M. Stambovsky, who placed a down payment on a country house that August.  He got buyer's remorse when he picked up a 1977 Readers' Digest article titled, "Our Haunted House on the Hudson."  In it, Helen V. Ackley, from whom he was buying the 18-room Victorian residence in Nyack, wrote about its ghosts.  The New York Times reported on March 16, 1990, "She described one as a 'cheerful apple-cheeked man' who looked more like Santa Claus than Rex Harrison in 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir.'"

Stambovsky sued to get his money back.  He claimed in court that publicity of the ghost stories "threatened the house's property value" and that Mrs. Ackley "never told him about the ghosts."  Unfortunately for Stambovsky, while the judge agreed that the stories might affect the property values, he said that Ackerly "was not required to tell Mr. Stambovsky of any ghosts."

Thankfully, little has changed outwardly to 290 East 79th Street in its nearly 100 years of existence.  And, although Ruth Carroll's Art Deco lobby murals have been painted over, outside Godwin, Thompson and Patterson's bold and striking ground floor elements are showstoppers to this day.

photographs by the author

Boak & Paris's 1930 45 Christopher Street

 

In 1929 Cobham Realty hired the architectural firm of Murgatroyd & Ogden to design a 16-story-and-penthouse "brick hotel" on the site of five vintage structures at 41 through 49 Christopher Street.  Something derailed that project and the following year Boak & Paris filed plans for a 16-story apartment building with stores on the site.  The architects projected the construction costs at $500,000--about $9.3 million in 2026.

The firm's Art Deco design included a two-story rusticated stone base.  The entrance, centered between stores, was flanked by shallow pilasters decorated with stylized palm trunks.  Verticality of the brick-faced upper portion was emphasized by thin ribs that rose to romantic stone balconies.  Terraced penthouse apartments shared the roof with a creatively designed water tower.

image via homes.com

Despite the ongoing Depression, 45 Christopher Street filled with financially-comfortable residents.  Among the first were the family of George E. Heidt, who leased a penthouse in August 1931; newspaper columnist Louis Sobal, who rented "a duplex apartment in the penthouse," as reported by The New York Times; and attorney John Langley Ridley.

Ridley was the nephew of multimillionaire Edward Albert Ridley.  In 1932, Edward hired his personal secretary, Lee Weinstein.  Less than a year later, on May 10, 1933, the 88-year-old Ridley and Weinstein were discovered murdered.  The younger Ridley's suspicions were raised when his uncle's will was read.  For one thing, the recently written document was not drawn up by the elderly man's trusted attorney, and his bankers knew "nothing about it."   The new will bequeathed $200,000 to Weinstein and completely ignored Ridley's relatives (including John L. Ridley).  The New York Times estimated the estate at about $7 million (nearly $170 million today).

John L. Ridley filed a caveat against the probate of the will in May 1933.  An investigation revealed that Weinstein "had been the head of a conspiracy" to drain Edward Ridley's fortune.  He slipped the fake will into a stack of papers for the elderly man to sign.  Unfortunately for Weinstein, his conspirators' greed ended not only his employer's life, but his own.  In November the estate was distributed among the millionaire's relatives.  John Langley Ridley received "one-third of his uncle's large real estate holdings," reported The New York Times.  

from the collection of the New York Public Library

Among Ridley's neighbors in the building at the time was Navy Lieutenant Eric Hoag, who lived on the fifth floor.  He was attached to the Brooklyn Navy Yard.  Early in November 1933, a friend, Lieutenant John Dyer Foley, was married in Seattle, Washington.  A naval surgeon, he and his bride would be relocating to the Civilian Conservation Camp at Montpelier, Vermont.  Two weeks after their wedding, the newlyweds visited Eric Hoag.

At 2:00 on the morning of November 13, Mrs. Foley awoke and found "my husband was gone," she later explained.  "I aroused the household.  We looked out a kitchen window and saw my husband lying three stories below on a balcony."

The 31-year-old was conscious when his wife and Hoag reached him.  At St. Vincent's Hospital he said, "I didn't know anything until I struck [the balcony].  I must have been walking in my sleep."  Newspapers across the country reported on the sailor's nocturnal plunge.  Mrs. Foley telegraphed her parents in Seattle, assuring them, "The newspaper accounts made the injuries appear more serious than they were."

Jeanette Bair, who worked for Feer Realty Corp., was the agent for 45 Christopher Street at the time.  A representative of the firm later testified, "Her instructions included the refraining from entering an apartment...unless she had a prospective tenant."  But around noon on August 8, 1934, she violated that rule and entered Penthouse E, the home of Zara Reigga, who was on vacation.

Four months earlier, Bair's husband had obtained a divorce.  He told officials, "on several occasions she attempted to effect a reconciliation," but he refused.  The despondent Jeanette Bair opened the gas jets of Zara Reigga's stove and oven.  It appears that she intended to kill herself by inhaling gas, but the plan went horribly wrong.

Louis Sobol was on the sofa in his penthouse next door at 12:38 when a massive explosion blew out the wall between the two apartments and threw him to the ground.  The New York Times said it "shook buildings within a half-mile radius...For several minutes after the blast, plate and window glass, fragments of Venetian blinds, and bits of brick and mortar rained down on Sheridan Square."  About an hour after the explosion, "a piece of roof coping weighing between twenty and thirty pounds plunged through the sidewalk canopy and was shattered," said the newspaper.

Terrified residents attempted to flee, but police stopped them in the lobby.  "You can't leave," once policeman said.  "Some one has blown the roof off this place with a bomb and everyone must be questioned."  It would be a while before investigators realized the source of the explosion.

Jeanette Bair, of course, was killed.  Amazingly, 37-year-old Louis Sobol suffered only cuts, and his maid, Anna Filsingeo was "cut and bruised."  Other residents were injured by being hit by glass or falling items, or from being thrown from their feet.  Ethel Jackson, a maid in one of the other penthouses, was "hurled through the bathroom door" and suffered painful bruises.

Fred C. Kuehnle, chief inspector for the Building Department, estimated the damages to Zara Reigga's furnishings and artwork at $5,000 (about $117,000 today).  Understandably, she did not return to 45 Christopher Street.  Following the major repairs to the building, an advertisement in The New York Sun on October 6, 1934 offered the vacant penthouse.  It touted a "sunken living room over 20 ft. sq.; wood-burning fireplace, spacious dining foyer, extensive terrace."

Perhaps the first artist to move into 45 Christopher Street was Russian-born illustrator Boris Mikhailovich Artzybasheff and his wife.  Born in 1899, his father, Mikhail Artsybashev, was a noted author.  Mikhailovich came to America in 1919 and quickly began earning a reputation for his book and magazine illustrations.  His work appeared in magazines like Time, Fortune and Life, and he would ultimately create 219 Time covers.

Artzyhasheff created Steel in 1934.

In reporting on the arrival of the steamship Washington on June 25, 1936, the New York Post commented, "Also on the liner was Mrs. Boris Artzybasheff, wife of the artist and daughter-in-law of the famous Russian novelist."  The article mentioned that she worked as a broker.

Another resident artist was sculptor Walter Rotan, here as early as 1944.  Born in 1912, he has been described as "an Impressionist and Modern artist."  He was living here in March 1944 when his bronze head Henry received the Ellen P. Speyer Memorial Prize in the 188th Annual Exhibition of the National Academy of Design.

A colorful resident was James J. McCormick, a widower who lived here with his widowed daughter, Hazel Jacobs.  McCormick had been a Tammany leader for 22 years and "a power in the Hall," according to The New York Times.  

His career had come to an abrupt halt in 1931 when the Seabury Investigation, which delved into city government corruption, discovered his graft and extortion.  The investigators discovered that he held 30 bank accounts containing "more than $257,900," according to The New York Times.  Almost all of that had been obtained from couples whom "he had married as chief of the Marriage License Bureau."  Other money came from "gratuities given him by 'friends' whom he aided when they became involved in difficulties over violations of building regulations."  He had, additionally, failed to file income tax returns for 1929 and 1930, during which time he received $69,000 "in gratuities."

In January 1939, McCormick suffered a cerebral hemorrhage.  He died in St. Elizabeth's Hospital a week later, on January 22.

As Jeanette Bair had been, in 1939 Adelaide Tate was the building's renting agent.  She, too, was a divorcee and, she too, was troubled.  Among the tenants she placed here was Standard Oil Company chemical engineer Age Skiolvig, who moved into one of the penthouses.  According to Skiolvig, "he had taken her to several parties."  The eligible bachelor, however, had a much different take on their casual relationship than did Tate.

On November 22, 1939, Skiolvig flew to Cleveland, Chicago and St. Louis on business.  Adelaide accompanied him to the airport.  In each city, he received telephone calls and telegrams from the smitten Adelaide.  At some point, Skiolvig "became suspicious that the calls and telegrams were originating from his apartment," reported The New York Times.  He telephoned the building's superintendent, who entered the Skiolvig apartment and found Adelaide there.  Skiolvig insisted "he did not know how she got into his apartment."  Apparently, as the renting agent, she had kept a copy of the key.

Adelaide gave the superintendent the key and promised to leave.  Then, according to The New York Sun, "Skiolvig became "annoyed and a bit alarmed at the tone of a telegram Mrs. Tate had sent him" and he hurried back to New York, arriving in New York at 7 a.m. on the morning of November 29.

He walked into his apartment to find Adelaide was asleep in a chair, still wearing a hat and coat.  When he wakened her, "she asked for a glass of tomato juice, which he gave her," according to The New York Times.  He then "reprimanded her" for the $100 bill of "telephone and telegraph tolls" she had run up.  Twenty minutes later, she walked into the bathroom and jumped from the window to her death 17 floors below.

Snow falling on the day this 1940 photograph was taken gave it a polka-dot effect.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Among the shops in the 1940s was the National Flower Decorating Company florist shop and Irving Weiss's liquor store.  Victor Emanual was the cashier of the flower shop in 1940 when a man who "appeared to be carrying a pistol in his pocket," according to The New York Times, walked in and demanded money.  The 26-year-old cashier handed over $1,281 and the robber fled.

Irving Weiss was not so lucky four years later.  At 12:15 on the afternoon of January 15, Maxine Golberg walked into the liquor store to find Weiss dead on the floor with two gunshot wounds in his head.  This was not a robbery, however.  Detectives said that Weiss was found "in a sitting position behind his swivel chair" and no cash appeared to be missing.

Living here by the late 1940s was newspaper man and playwright James Gow and his wife, the former Olga Alexander.  The couple married in 1941.  With Arnaud d'Usseau, he wrote the 1943 Tomorrow the World and Deep are the Roots, which premiered in 1945.  The former dealt with how post-World War II German children could be reassimilated into normal life after their indoctrination by the Nazis.  The latter play dealt with Blacks within the South.  He wrote screenplays for motion pictures including Ballerina and Paramount on Parade.

Another resident in the theater field was Carroll McComas.  Born in 1886, she made her stage debut in 1907.  While she was a dancer and singer in vaudeville, she was best known for whistling.  She went on to Broadway, where she would play in more than 24 roles, and made her first silent movie in 1916 in When Love is King.  

Carroll McComas with Frank Craven in the 1916 Seven Chances.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

While living here, she appeared on Broadway in Design for a Stained Glass Window, Arms and the Man, The Glass Menagerie and The Innocents; and in the 1953 film Jamaica Run and The Miracle Worker, released in 1962.  She died of a heart attack in her apartment here on November 9, 1962 at the age of 76.

Other residents in the 1960s were artist Ben Bishop; fashion consultant Gastona Marie Rossilli; and labor historian and economist Dr. Lewis L. Lorwin.

Bishop was born in the Bronx in 1923 and held a BFA in art history from the University of Nebraska and did graduate work at Columbia University, the New York University's Institute of Fine Arts, and the University of California at Berkeley where he received his Masters in painting in 1954.  His paintings hang in the collections of the Syracuse Museum, the Russell Sage Museum, the Brandeis University Museum, the Jewett Art Center and several other institutions.

Gastona Marie Rossilli attended the Traphagen School of Fashion and held a degree from Seton Hall University.  A "fashion-behavioral consultant," she had made field studies in the West of "the relation between clothing and behavior of American Indians," as explained by The New York Times.  She also conducted research in Europe and other parts of the U.S.   While living here, she consulted for department stores and the Fashion Institute.

In 1987, 45 Christopher Street was converted from a rental building to condominiums.  

In 1997, management of the Stonewall Inn attempted to circumvent the zoning rule that "prohibits cabaret licenses for places with entrances within 100 feet of a residential district."  The intention was to install a dance floor on the second floor of the bar  On August 6, The Villager reported, "But residential neighbors at 45 Christopher St., are opposing the permit.  Their lawyer, Stewart O'Brien, explained, "We have no problem with an eating and drinking establishment on the second floor, but a disco makes a lot of noise."

The imposing building that soars high above its neighbors, has become an architectural landmark within the Greenwich Village neighborhood.  

photographs by the author

William S. Schneider's 1928 136 Waverly Place

 

In 1854, the Greenwich Savings Bank erected an Anglo-Italianate-style bank building at the southwest corner of Sixth Avenue and Waverly Place.  The New York Times would later describe it as "a dignified three-story brownstone structure."  Decades later, in 1892, the bank moved out and the building was converted for use by the New York Bank Note Company.  Then, on February 26, 1928, The New York Times reported, "Housewreckers began last week tearing down the old Greenwich Village landmark."  The article explained, "a sixteen-story apartment house will be erected" on the site.  

The Citadel Construction Company had commissioned architect Walter S. Schneider to design the structure.  Schneider's Art Deco design has none of the expected geometric zig-zags and stair-stepping elements.  Instead he gave the brick-faced structure cast stone, medieval-style decorations around the entrance, and Aztec-inspired motifs in terra cotta at the top two floors.  Schneider used contrasting brick to create bandcourses and to simulate quoins.

An advertisement for The Waverly offered apartments of three or four rooms that included "dining alcoves [and] electric refrigerators."  (The electric appliances were a significant amenity at a time when many New Yorkers still had messy iceboxes in their kitchens.)  Rents started at $900 per year, or about $1,750 a month in 2026 terms.

Among the initial residents was William Seeman.  A 1914 graduate of Cornell University, he was an executive with the wholesale grocery firm of Seeman Brothers.  Shortly after he moved in, on April 24, 1929 The New York Times reported that he and motion picture actress Phyllis Haver "will be married at 7:30 tonight by Mayor Walker at the home of Rube Goldberg, cartoonist."  (Mayor James Walker was, incidentally, a good friend of Seeman and Goldberg was his brother-in-law.)

The engagement was not a secret.  A month earlier, Haver had announced her upcoming marriage in Hollywood and said she would retire afterward.  And, although this was an at-home wedding, it was no small affair.  The following day, The New York Times reported that Paul Whiteman's band marched from West End Avenue to the Goldberg's residence "amid the flare of fireworks."  The Brooklyn Standard Union said that about 60 guests attended the wedding and the dinner that followed--among them Constance Bennett, Samuel Goldwyn, William Fleischman and Mack Sennett.  "About four hundred telegrams of congratulations were received during the evening from the motion picture colony in Hollywood," said the article, "including messages from Douglas Fairbanks and Mabel Normand."  The Brooklyn Standard Union noted, "On their return from Europe, Mr. and Mrs. Seeman will make their home at 136 Waverly place."

William and Phyllis Haver Seeman (original source unknown).

James and Anna D. Collins occupied an apartment in the mid-1930s.  James was a detective with the New York City Police Department.  Their two children John and Peggy, who were 24 and 11 years old respectively in 1935, lived with them.

Anna Collins suffered a nervous breakdown around that time.  By 1938, James had become worried that she might attempt suicide and was understandably concerned about his service weapon, which he necessarily brought home.  Because of that, he told investigators that "he hid the cartridges for his revolver" somewhere in the apartment.

James apparently worked a night shift on August 8, 1938.  He came home and went directly to bed the next morning.  By 10:00, John, who was a ticket agent for the Eastern Steamship Lines, was at work and Peggy was at school.  Anna Collins found her husband's weapon and cartridges.  She shot herself in the head and died within the hour at St. Vincent's Hospital.

Residents Margaret and Joseph Sarafite lived here as early as 1940.  An attorney, Sarafite had been on the staff of District Attorney Thomas E. Dewey's Homicide, Appeals and General Sessions Bureaus since 1938.

The couple's country home was on Silver Mountain along the Hudson River.  They were headed there on November 24, 1940 when the trip nearly ended in tragedy.  Joseph was driving and, according to State Trooper McManus, "there was a heavy fog on the road at 1:15 p.m."  As Sarafite rounded a curve, he collided head-on with another vehicle.  McManus said, "Both drivers claimed they could not see the other car until it was too late."

Margaret, who was 38 years old at the time, was treated on the scene for "bruises, shock and a possible brain concussion."  Joseph was not injured and the other driver, Clifford Lilley, suffered "severe lacerations of the right hand."  Although both cars were "very badly damaged," all parties involved survived.  Nevertheless, The Poughkeepsie Eagle-News reported that Margaret Sarafite "was confined to bed in her summer home on Silver mountain."

Joseph A. Sarafite, The New York Sun, March 1, 1944

Not long after the incident, Joseph A. Sarafite was appointed Assistant District Attorney.  Then, on March 1, 1944, District Attorney Frank S. Hogan named him "head of the Rackets Bureau."  In reporting on the appointment, The New York Sun mentioned that since 1938, "of 200 cases on which he worked, convictions were obtained in 98 per cent of them."

Somewhat ironically, among the Sarafite's neighbors in the building was Gerard Mosiello, described by The New York Times on June 29, 1943 as "a convicted burglar."  His brother, Anthony, who lived on Sullivan Street, was described by the FBI as "a bookmaker."  The brothers and two other men formed a corporation to supply ammunition to the Soviet Government.  (Gerald Mosiello personally invested $40,000 in the enterprise.)

All four men were arrested on June 28, 1943 not for supplying munitions to a foreign entity, but for fraud.  The New York Times said they devised "a scheme alleged to have been carried out in the shipment to Russia of 3,072,000 .45 caliber cartridges, of which 38 per cent were found to be dangerously defective."  

 

John Augustine Sands and his wife, the former Eleanor Lydell Livingston, were residents at the time.  Born in 1865 and 1866 respectively, they were married on October 14, 1891.  The couple's daughter, Lettice Lee, was married to millionaire James Graham Phelps Stokes and they lived nearby at 88 Grove Street.  

At 4:45 on the afternoon of March 22, 1945, Eleanor, who was 79 years old at the time, was at the intersection of Sixth Avenue and 8th Street when she tripped in a hole in the pavement.  The New York Times reported that she "fell against the side of a southbound truck owned by the Banner Manufacturing Company."  Eleanor Sands died at St. Vincent's Hospital later that day.

Samuel S. and Mollie Fishzohn and their children, Henry and Rita, were residents by the late 1940s.  Born in Warsaw, Poland in 1899, Samuel came to the United States at the age of eight.  He graduated from Trinity College in Connecticut and attended the Graduate School of Jewish Social Work and New York University.  During World War II he was chairman of the Lower East Side Defense Council.

In 1945, Samuel became the director of the American Jewish Committee.  In the meantime, Mollie was not a stay-at-home mom, selling mutual funds fulltime.

Like his father, Henry Fishzohn got an early start on civic involvement.  On April 22, 1949, The New York Times reported on a group of Greenwich Village teens who "have banded together to combat delinquency and to erase religious and racial barriers between youngsters in their area."  Among them was 14-year-old Henry Fishzohn.

Samuel Fishzohn retired in January 1963, but continued his work as an executive member of the National Committee on Children and Youth and a vice-president of the Council of National Organizations for Children and Youth.  He and Mollie were still living here on August 28, 1964 when Samuel died at the age of 65.  Mollie Fishzohn would survive until December 1998, when she died at the age of 99.  Her obituary noted that she "sold mutual funds until her 90's."

photograph by Standard Flashlight Co., Inc. from the collection of the New York Public Library

A well-known name to New York travelers was Italo A. Fugazy, president of the Fugazy Travel Bureau, Inc., who lived here in the 1950s with his wife, Irene.  His father, Commendatore Louis F. Fugazy had founded the business in 1870 as a steamship agency and private bank.  By now, Fugazy's clients included Samuel Goldwyn Productions, R. K. O. Pictures, the Radio Corporation of America, and New York University.

A renovation to the building completed in 1967 resulted in eight stores at street level, five apartments per floor in the upper section, and one in the penthouse level.

Living here at the time were defense attorney Matthew H. Brandenburg and his wife, Florence.  Brandenburg was one of the best known criminal lawyers in the country.  A graduate of Fordham College and St. John's University Law School, he represented a number of defendants accused of murder.  In November 1967, he represented Harold Weinberg, who confessed to murdering poet Maxwell Bodenheim.  And the following year, he appealed the 30-year-prison sentence of former Marine Sergeant Charles Wilkerson, convicted in the killing of a Vietcong prisoner in Vietnam.

Mezzo American-inspired motifs decorate the uppermost floors.

Around 1969, Fraser's Restaurant opened in the building.  It was listed in the Bob Damron's Address Book (a directory for gay or gay-friendly businesses), and the 1969 New York City Gay Scene Guide described it as, "where the gay kids go for dinner before the bar tour."  It remained here at least through 1971.

At around 3:00 on Saturday afternoon, July 11, 1976, the 46-year-old elevator man, Joseph Garskian, was on duty.  A man entered the lobby and asked if the super was around.  He then pulled a knife on Garskian and took "a $200 Russian watch, a $200 Greek ring and $275 in U.S. cash," reported The Villager.  As the crook exited, a friend of Garskian, Ken Sieveri walked in.  He told a reporter, "I didn't do anything because I didn't want to take chances with a guy holding a knife."  The robber was not captured.

By 1996, the 1967 interior redecoration was out of fashion and it made selling a specific apartment here difficult for one realtor.  Michael M. Beltrami told a reporter from The New York Times that although the $325,000 two-bedroom, one bath apartment had "a working fireplace, multiple exposures, a good layout and even a peek at Washington Square Park," it was not selling.

The problem, he decided, was the the decor.  "It's a style called 1963-1964," he said.  And he lamented the original bathroom, which was apparently not updated in the re-do.  It had "turquoise and black 30's tiles," he said.

Reported by some to be the location of Don Draper's apartment in the 2007-2015 Mad Man series, Walter S. Schneider's wonderful building stands out in its Greenwich Village neighborhood--its cast stone sentinels still standing guard over the entranceway after nearly a century.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

photographs by the author

The 1931 Dumont Building - 515 Madison Avenue

 

image via redesignarchitects.com

Architect James Edwin Ruthven Carpenter, Jr. (who went professionally as J. E. R. Carpenter) was three years older than his brother, real estate developer James H Carpenter.  The two collaborated on several significant Manhattan structures, and in 1930, just months after the Stock Market crash, they embarked on another: a 42-story, $2 million office building at the northeast corner of Madison Avenue and 53rd Street.  (The construction cost would translate to $41.2 million in 2026.)

Completed in 1931, J. E. R. Carpenter's Gothic-inspired Art Deco pile was faced in gray brick above a three-story limestone base.  The deeply recessed entrance, flanked with storefronts, sat below a bronze-and-glass marquee and was framed by a gold-veined stone arch, carved with Gothic motifs.

The groined Gothic-style ceiling of the lobby can be glimpsed.  photo by Carole Teller

Terra cotta Gothic tracery sat atop the openings of the third floor, and cast Gothic-style spandrel panels decorated the upper facade.  Setbacks began at the 14th floor, rising to an offset tower.

photograph by Americasroof

Opened in October 1931, the building quickly drew advertising and publishing firms.  Among the first tenants were the offices of the Plumbers Trade Journal, Spur Publishing Company (which occupied the 11,000-square-foot 13th floor), Outlook Publishing Company, and Advertising Digest. 

An interesting tenant was The Blue Cockade.  On May 10, 1932, The New York Times explained it was "a recently formed organization favoring repeal of the prohibition amendment."  The membership was different from other anti-Prohibition groups.  A representative told The Times, "Several department stores in the city have been organized '100 per cent' in membership in The Blue Cockade."

Real estate agent Jules Spiegel opened his "well-furnished" office here in August 1933.  Just days later, the 40-year-old was taken out in handcuffs.  The New York Times reported that he, "looked back wistfully as he departed with the detectives," adding, "The last thing he saw in his office as he closed the door was a large floral horseshoe.  It bore the inscription 'Success.'"

Spiegel had been accused by Frank Nagel of larceny.  He told authorities that he had paid $225 to Spiegel in his "luxuriously furnished office" here as security for a rent collector's job.  It was a significant amount in the Depression years, and Nagel got neither the job nor his money back.  As it turned out, Nagel was only one of several victims.  The assistant district attorney revealed in court that Spiegel "had swindled many others by the same means in the last ten years."

Among the tenants of the storefronts as early as 1933 was the Michaelyan Galleries.  It held an exhibition of Oriental rugs that November, assembled from the collection of the Textile Museum of Washington and from H. Michaelyan's personal collection.

A much more controversial tenant at the time was the Second Spanish Republic Consulate.  The government had been formed on April 14, 1931 after the deposition of King Alfonso XIII.  In 1933, a "revolutionary uprising" by Spanish Socialists was put down and the rebels imprisoned.  It sparked a backlash among some Americans.  

On October 10, 1934, The New York Times reported that "about 200 men and women stalked and shouted for an hour yesterday afternoon demonstrating their support of the Spanish revolt," and on November 24, 1934, The Daily Worker reported that the Young Communist League had called for "mass picketing to demand the release of the imprisoned Socialist and Communist workers of Spain" in front of 515 Madison Avenue that day.

Another sometimes controversial tenant at the time was the New York State Birth Control Federation.  Two years later, on May 14, 1936, the formation of the National Medical Council on Birth Control was announced here.

Theatrical producer Jules Alberti operated from 515 as early as 1934.  On the afternoon of January 23, 1935, 23-year-old John Days, Jr. entered the office, "brandished a pistol and demanded $1,000," according to The New York Times.  The article described Days as "a WPA worker" and said his wife had formerly worked as a domestic servant in Alberti's home.

At gunpoint, Alberti was forced to make out a promissory note for the money.  He promised to meet Day at the corner of 54th Street and Lexington at 7:00 that evening to give him "an installment."  Not surprisingly, when Day showed up, two detectives were waiting for him.

More turmoil within the Spanish Consulate was to come.  In 1936, civil war resulted in the overthrow of the government and the installation of General Francisco Franco as the country's ruler.  On August 6, 1936, The New York Times reported that the consul, Felix de Iturriaga had been replaced "because he apparently was 'not in sympathy' with the present Spanish Government."  And six months later, on January 13, 1937, the new consul, Luis Careaga, announced that the Official Spanish Chamber of Commerce was "no longer authorized."  He told reporters that the functions of the chamber would now be exercised at 515 Madison Avenue.

As early as 1936, the burgeoning television industry was represented in 515 Madison Avenue by The Television Corporation of America.  It was joined by the Allen B. Dumont Laboratories, Inc., "manufacturers of television equipment."  In 1938, Dumont installed a broadcasting antenna on the building and in May 1939 The New York Times reported it would erect an "outdoor studio" for "the transmission of tele-pictures."  The article said it "will be equipped on a setback of the building to receive the benefit of daylight.  It will be roofed with glass so that inclement weather will not interfere with the schedule."

Licensing of the Dumont Laboratories television station was granted in April 1940.  Later that year, the station made history.  On November 10, The New York Times reported:

Television has just played with honor and acclaim its most striking role in America's greatest political show.  Last Tuesday it took its place alongside that more mature trouper of twenty-odd years of Presidential elections, the microphone.

According to the article, "nearly 4,000 television sets were in use," as the results of the Presidential election came in.

The firm's visible presence here gave the building its nickname, the Dumont Building.  The following January, the Allen B. Dumont Laboratories, Inc. demonstrated a "625 line definition" receiver here that produced enhanced clarity to the image.  The firm made history again that year by initiating "commercial" television.  The New York Times reported on May 11, "The DuMont station will specialize in outside pick-ups, such as baseball and football games and events."

As turmoil swept Europe, the newly-formed American First Committee took space here in 1941.  Perhaps its most visible member was Colonel Charles A. Lindbergh.  He made an appeal in April "to keep the United States out of the war."  In response, 3,000 membership applications were received the next day.  "Each member is required to subscribe to a declaration that he has no affiliation with any foreign power," noted The New York Times on April 25.

On June 16, 1941, the Government closed the United States consulates in Germany.  The Anti-Nazi League reacted, "It's about time.  The league has long advocated just such a course."  The New York Times reported, "The America First Committee, 515 Madison Avenue, declined to make any statement."

The Dumont Television Laboratories continued to break ground.  On September 30, 1943, it announced it had teamed with Police Headquarters.  "Pictures of missing persons will be broadcast over [the] television system," reported The New York Times.  And on November 5 that year, the newspaper said, "When Senator Robert F. Wagner goes on the air at 8:15 o'clock tonight over Station WABD, it will be the first time in the history of the nation that a candidate for major public office has used television as a means of appealing for votes on election day."

In 1945, with the war ended, the Society for the Prevention of World War III, Inc. established an office here.  And resumption of protests against the Franco regime resumed.  On March 3, 1946, The New York Times reported on the 700 pickets outside, "demanding that the United States sever diplomatic relations with Franco Spain."

On May 18, 1950, the Dumont Laboratories announced the "invention of an all-color all-electronic direct-view television tube."  And while the headquarters continued to operate from 515 Madison Avenue, in December 1951 it announced the opening of its "$4,000,000 Tele-Centre" at 205 East 67th Street.  The seven-story structure would house five studios.  In the move, the WABD antenna was removed and relocated to the Empire State Building.  The headquarters in the Dumont Building was now named the Dumont Television Company.

In 1958, the former Dumont rooftop station became home to the Columbia University WKCR-FM radio station.  It would remain until 1977.

The Dumont Building was sold in May 1962 to Aaron Rabinowitz, chairman of the board of the Fred F. French Management Company.  The New York Times reported that he purchased it "for family investment."

Among the tenants at the time was the national headquarters of the Anti-Defamation League of B'nai B'rith, founded in 1912.  It held an annual awards dinner on January 31, 1963 in Washington D.C. where it awarded President John F. Kennedy its America's Democratic Legacy Award, established in 1948.

An alarming incident occurred here on September 21, 1974.  Brothers Caro and Isaac Yamaoka ran the jewelry business, Caro Yamaoka Company, on the 13th floor.  Just after noon that day, two males posing as deliverymen entered.  They "drew guns, handcuffed the owner, his brother and an employee and escaped with about $150,000 in pearls," according to police.  The heist would equal more than $950,000 today.

image via marketplace.vts.com

The renovations to the ground floor of 515 Madison Avenue--always the first to be brutalized--have been made with some sympathy to the 1931 architecture, and the magnificent entrance is beautifully intact.  The building's "stepped-back shape," was described by The New York Times architectural critic Paul Goldberger on February 8, 1987, "a genial eclectic relic from the 1920's."

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post