The Effingham Scheiffelin House - 185 East Broadway

 

Interestingly, when Effingham Schieffelin moved his family into 193 East Broadway around 1840, the city directories listed the street as "Eastbroadway," without a space.  Previously a rural lane that ran through the Rutgers Farm, it was named East Broadway around 1830, shortly before the Schieffelins' house was erected.  

Born in 1791, Schieffelin and his brothers had inherited substantial fortunes upon the death of their father, Jacob Schieffelin, III.  Effingham and his wife, the former Mary Lander, had three daughters--Susan Maria, Cornelia, and Maria--and a son, Edgar.  

Like other homes in the vicinity, their aristocratic residence (which would be renumbered 185 East Broadway in 1843) reflected the family's wealth and social standing.  Three-and-a-half stories tall, it was one of two identical Federal-style houses erected around 1835.  Faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone, its double-doored entrance featured a paneled stone surround and a large, elegant fanlight.  Two dormers would have pierced the peaked roof.

Effingham Schieffelin was the president of the 7th Ward Bank.  He was, as well, the first president of the Colonization Society of the City of New York, an auxiliary of the American Colonization Society, formed in January 1831.  Its goal was "removing the reproach of slavery, and the evil consequences of its existence from this land."  Its methods were controversial, at least by a 21st century viewpoint.  The Society proposed to return all black individuals to Africa.  If every American donated ten cents, said the Society's original minutes, the entirety "of the whole colored population" could be deported.

The Schieffelin family left 185 East Broadway around 1850, retaining possession of the property and leasing it to well-heeled families.  In 1850, Frederick L. Mathez, an importer, rented it.  The following year he moved his family to Brooklyn and Jacob Fash, a "portwarden," signed a lease.  He would remain at least through 1853, after which Dr. John Miller moved in.

The second half of the century saw enormous change to the formerly patrician neighborhood.  By 1880, the basement level of 185 East Broadway had been converted to a meeting hall.  In the 1880s it was occupied by the Fourth Assembly District Republican Campaign Club, and later the Fourth Assembly District Irish-American and Anti-Cleveland and Protective League.

When Kasriel H. Sarasohn leased the house in 1890, the neighborhood had filled mostly with Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe.  Born in today's Poland, he and his wife, Rebecca, had two sons, Abraham H. and Ezekiel, and a daughter Bertha.  In signing the lease on 185 East Broadway, Sarasohn put up "a press" for security.  

That printing press would become important to New York City Jewish history.  In 1874, he founded the first Yiddish-language weekly in the country, the Yiddishe Gazette.  The monthly magazine The Menorah later explained, "He was at one time his own editor, compositor, stereo-typer, printer and publisher, except in so far as he was assisted by his wife."  By the time Sarasohn moved his operation into 185 East Broadway, he had been publishing a daily newspaper, the Yiddishes Tageblatt (Jewish Daily News) for four years.  It grew to have a larger circulation than any other foreign language newspaper in New York City.

Kasriel H. Sarasohn was a leader among the Jewish community.  He was chairman of the Board of Education of the Machzikei Talmud Torah, a yeshiva for boys, and he founded the Achnosath Orchim (Hebrew Sheltering House) in 1889 at 127 East Broadway.  The Menorah described it as, "a home for sojourners, to furnish the refugees with board and lodging while awaiting employment or help from their friends outside the city."  In 1892, it cared for 4,000 new immigrants.  Sarasohn also founded the Home for Aged and Infirm, where elderly Jews could "spend their last days near their friends, and where the dietary laws would be scrupulously observed," said The Menorah.

While Abraham became a lawyer, Ezekiel went into his father's business, becoming Sarasohn & Son.  In April 1893, Sarasohn made minor "interior alterations" to the property, most likely in the basement where the newspaper was operated.  

In the meantime, Effingham Schieffelin died on July 14, 1863.  The East Broadway house was inherited by Edgar Schieffelin.  On December 20, 1894, he sold it to Kasriel and Rebecca Sarasohn.  In reporting the price, the Record & Guide said obliquely that it was "many thousand dollars."

The title to the property was placed in Rebecca's name.  On February 20, 1897, the Record & Guide reported that she had hired architect Max Muller to raise the attic to a full fourth floor and create "new stairs [in] new part 3d and 4th story."  At the same time, the Federal-style stoop ironwork was replaced by trendy railings and newels, a cast metal surround now covered the arched doorway frame and molded lintels were applied over the windows.  The renovations cost the Sarasohns $10,000--about $379,000 in 2025.

Max Muller's renovations added modern details to the vintage structure.  New Era Illustrated Magazine, November 1903 (copyright expired)

The Spanish-American War was declared in April 1898.  In response, Sarasohn rallied the local men.  On April 26, The New York Times reported, "A recruiting office was opened on Sunday in the office of the Jewish Daily News and Jewish Gazette, at 185 East Broadway, and Editor Sarasohn said that over 250 Jews called and signed applications for enlistment, and that over 50 had signed yesterday."  Sarasohn commented, "Among those who are in favor of taking a hand in the war are many who have been affiliated with Socialistic societies, which they discarded.  The other Socialists are decrying American patriotism."

In 1903, Rose Pastor arrived in New York City from Cleveland, where she had met Abraham H. Fromenson, editor of the Yiddishes Tageblatt.  According to Rose's biographer, Adam Hochschild, in his Rebel Cinderella, "In bringing her to New York, she ardently believed, he was doing more than simply recruiting a new reporter."  He had promised marriage, as well.

Rose quickly discovered that Fromenson was already engaged.  Nonetheless, he arranged a job for her writing an advice column.  She quickly changed the vacuous articles to substantial fare.  Rose would recall, "I also became 'The Observer' and wrote sketches and impressions of the East Side; I made contributions in prose and verse under my own name...When the editor was absent, I wrote the English editorials."

Decades later, on August 30, 1996, The New York Times recounted the improbable life and impact of Rose Pastor:

She became known as the Cinderella of the Sweatshops because after she interviewed James Graham Phelps Stokes, a millionaire who helped run the University Settlement, he asked her to marry him.  She became famous as an advocate of Socialism, Communism and birth control.

Although Kasriel H. Sarasohn amassed a fortune, he never moved uptown, remaining in the house that doubled as his business.  On January 12, 1905, The Evening Post said, "Although having ample means, Mr. Sarasohn remained a resident of the lower East Side, where he could be accessible to the poor and distressed among his co-religionists."

Two weeks before that article, Sarasohn contracted pneumonia.  He died in the East Broadway house on January 12.  The Menorah called him the first successful Yiddish journalist in America and "a prominent figure in the life of the Yiddish speaking Jews of the United States."

Sarasohn's funeral was held the following day.  The procession left from 185 East Broadway to the Home for Sojourners and the Aged.  The Menorah reported that Sarasohn's funeral services "brought out the largest crowd that has ever attended a funeral on the East Side, with the exception of that which followed Rabbi Joseph to his grave two years ago."  (That funeral had been attended by more than 50,000 mourners, according to some accounts.)

Six years earlier, Kasriel Sarasohn had divided his publishing business into three equal parts--one going to Bertha's husband, Leon Kamaiky, one to Ezekiel, and the other for himself.  Kasriel's portion was partially inherited by Abraham.  Ezekiel and Leon would continue the publishing firm.

Kasriel Sarasohn left an estate of $600,000--about $21 million in 2025 terms.  Ten percent of that amount was donated to charities.

Four months after Sarasohn's death, Ezekiel and Leon, now operating as Sarasohn & Kamaiky, hired architect H. J. Feiser to make renovations.  It was possibly during this project that the show window was installed at the parlor level.

The Leon Kamaiky and Ezekiel Sarasohn families lived and worked from 185 East Broadway at least through the early Depression years.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

As early as 1941, the Crystal Wine Co. occupied the basement level.  It would remain at least through 1945.  One tenant renting a room on an upper floor in 1942 had a most difficult surname to spell and pronounce.  Aaron Rotghrt was included on the U.S. Government's list of Communist voters that year.

At some point between 1995 and 2007, Max Muller's cast metal lintels and door frame were removed.  Discovered essentially intact was the elegant Federal-style doorway.  

For a period in the early 2000s, The Paper Bag Players was here.  Founded in 1958 as an educational, musical theater for children, the group also arranged day trips and guided activities.

Today the building is marketed as the "1830s Historic Merchant House On The Park Les New York," a six-room hotel.  More importantly, 185 East Broadway is a highly significant part of New York's Jewish history and of the Lower East Side.

photographs by the author

The Horace Butler House - 205 East Broadway

 

In the early 20th century, the cornice was removed.

Horace Butler moved into the 25-foot-wide mansion at 205 East Broadway around 1845.  The elegant neighborhood, which was rural as recently as half a century earlier, was filled with the Federal and Greek Revival style homes of affluent families.  Butler was a wealthy builder.  His four-story residence reflected his financial station.  Intricate iron railings descended the stoop to wrap the newels, which perched imperiously upon fluted stone drums.  On either side of the entrance, free-standing fluted Ionic columns upheld a three-layered entablature and cornice.

The unusual railings crest like breaking waves at sides of the columns.

The families of Charles Hall and Henry B. Brooks briefly shared 205 East Broadway at the end of the decade.  The men were both highly involved in the Mount Vernon 72 Lodge of the Odd Fellows.  In 1849, Brooks was its secretary and Hall was its treasurer.

By 1851, Richard C. Valentine and his wife, Elizabeth, moved into 205 East Broadway.  Born in 1810, Valentine was in the stereotype business (a type of printing process) on Gold Street.  His extensive operation was reflected in his lucrative 1842 contract to print the The Holy Bibles for the American Bible Society.  (The Bibles, which were distributed for free, numbered in tens of thousands annually.)  An announcement in The New York Times described Valentine's firm, "one of the most complete stereotype foundries in the country."

Richard C. Valentine was also an Odd Fellows member--although unlike his predecessors in the house, his lodge was Oriental Lodge No. 68.  His fraternity brothers filed into the house on March 27, 1858 for Richard's funeral.  The 48-year-old had died three days earlier.

As was common for widows, Elizabeth Valentine augmented her income by taking in select boarders.  An advertisement in The New York Times on September 2, 1858, read:

A Family Occupying the First-Class house, No. 205 East Broadway, offer superior accommodations to a few boarders.  The house contains gas, bath, &c., and is in perfect order.

The mention of "gas" and "bath" illustrates that the house was outfitted with cutting-edge amenities.  Illuminating gas for domestic use was still in its early stages and indoor plumbing was introduced in New York in 1842.

Among Elizabeth's initial boarders was John W. Gardner, a merchant.  He partially filled his off time by volunteering in the Eagle Hose Company, No. 1, the firehouse of which was on Madison Street near Pike Street.

Newlyweds William J. Willis and his wife, the former Selina Harper Dimock took rooms in 1860, the year they were married.  The groom was 24 years old and his bride was 22.  Willis was in the produce business at 37 Pearl Street.

Sadly, on February 15, 1862, Selina died of consumption at the age of 24.  The New York Times reported that her funeral would be "from the house of Mrs. E. Valentine, No. 205 East Broadway" on  February 17.  

William J. Willis remained in their rooms through 1863.  Elizabeth Valentine's other boarders that year were George B. Pease, a clerk; and Rev. C. C. Barclay, the rector of All Saints Church at 286 Henry Street.

The following year, Eliza Cook, the widow of William Cook, established a boarding house here.  She lost three young residents unexpectedly that year.  

On March 23, 1863, Congress had passed the Enrollment Act--a draft lottery to swell the ranks of the Union Army.  On March 18, 1865, The New York Times reported that 1,100 names had been drawn the previous day.  Among those was T. H. Parker, who boarded with Eliza Cook.  Two weeks later, another boarder was drafted.  On April 2, the newspaper listed B. Meagher among the 310 names pulled the previous day.

Irish-born brothers Michael and James Smith shared rooms at the time.  On October 1, 1865, James died here at the age of 29.  Eliza Cook opened her parlor for the young man's funeral on October 3.

Around 1867, John Scott and his family moved into 205 East Broadway.  A dealer of saws at 108 Hester Street, he was born in Scotland in 1817.  The family also took in boarders.  

Among them were an Irish, middle-aged couple, Thomas and Annie Keary.  Annie died here at the age of 64 on September 24, 1869, but unlike previous occupants, her funeral was not held in the house, but at St. Theresa's Church, on Henry and Rutgers Streets.

John Scott died here at the age of 65 on June 10, 1872.  His funeral was held in the parlor on June 12.  His widow quickly left East Broadway.  An advertisement in the New York Herald offered:

Elegant suit of furniture, 10 pieces, in brocatel, upholstered by Stewart, cost $600, in use four months; will be sold for $375 if bought in one week; owner leaves.

(The furnishings reflected the family's affluence, although the neighborhood had begun to change.  The original cost of the parlor set would translate to $15,400 in 2025.)

The house became home to John H. and Ellen M. Cheevers and their child.  Four years after moving in, on March 14, 1876, the 46-year-old Cheevers died.  As Elizabeth Valentine had done, Ellen took in boarders.  That year her boarders were Sigmund Hirschler, an underwear dealer; Joseph Landsberg, a tailor; and Louis May, a clerk.  (The names of Hirschler and Landsberg reflected the influx of German immigrants in the neighborhood.  By now, the Lower East Side was considered the German cultural center of America.)

On May 8, 1876, Ellen published a want-ad for a maid in The Sun, glossing over the fact that she had boarders.

Girl wanted--A smart, tidy girl, about 16 years old, to take care of a child and do general housework; the family consists of mother and child; references required.  Call on Mrs. Cheevers, 205 East Broadway.

Howard and Margaret B. Crosby purchased 205 East Broadway on June 19, 1882.  The couple were real estate operators and leased the house.  Living here in 1885 was Nathan Hutkoff, a glass dealer and a trustee of the Eldridge Street Synagogue, which was erected that year.  Among Nathan's investment properties was the nearby 199 East Broadway.  

The following year, on May 18, 1886, Louis and Rachel Hirschfield signed a lease for three years at $1,080 (equivalent of $11,800 per year today).

A tradition of physicians in the house began in 1888 with Dr. M. Capse.  By the early 1890s, Dr. Nicholaus Sachs ran his medical office here, and converted the basement to his pharmacy.  Sachs had received his medical degree in the University of Jena in 1881.  He advertised his office hours as "8 to 10, 5 to 7, Sunday 8 to 11."

An advertisement appeared in The Evening World on October 13, 1874 that read:

Drug Clerk, registered, speaking English & German; best references.  Dr. Sachs, 205 E. Broadway.

Early in the morning of January 10, 1902, a policeman captured one of two burglars as they fled from Sachs's pharmacy.  The New York Times reported, "he gave his name as Edward Potts, but the police say he is John Griffin."  His confederate, Dennis Driscoll, was apprehended January 25.  The newspaper said the pair had stolen "$53 in United States postage stamps."  (The pricey postage would translate to about $1,940 today.)

The last function within the Sachs household at 205 East Broadway was held in 1902.  On October 26, the New York Herald reported, "Dr. and Mrs. Nicholaus Sachs...announce the engagement of their daughter Eugenie to Dr. Moritz Wulfson Dreyer, of Brooklyn.  At home Sunday evening, November 2, 205 East Broadway.  No cards."

The next year, Dr. Sachs moved to 216 Henry Street and his former office was occupied by Dr. Zelik Sharfin.  He was quickly replaced by Dr. I. S. Hirsch.

One of the most terrifying medical threats at the turn of the last century was tuberculosis.  On August 15, 1904, the New York Globe and Commercial Advertiser reported on Hirsch's warnings in an article the newspaper titled, "Vendors of Germs."  The young physician had studied pushcart vendors and concluded that "men suffering from tuberculosis are vendors of impure soda water and ices to multitudes of children on the east side."  

 

Hirsch explained how the disease was readily communicated to the vendors' customers.  "Just think of a man who was constantly hawking and spitting, making these drinks and handing them out to children whose constitutions are already weakened by their unsanitary lives at home!"

The doctor lobbied for regulating vendors, similar to the sanitation laws in place with taverns and restaurants.  "It was by high license that the brothels, with all their filth, were rooted out of this neighborhood.  A better class of people run the saloons now, and the places are much neater.  Such a plan as this ought to work in the case of push carts and soda fountains."

Howard Crosby sold 205 East Broadway in January 1913 to Dr. Joseph C. Scal.  While the physician lived and worked in the upper floor, the basement level was converted to a synagogue by 1917, Adath Israel.  

On May 30, 1918, the New-York Tribune titled an article, "300 N. Y. Jews Sail as Legionairies to Fight in Palestine."  The article explained that the British government had enlisted volunteers to "join the British Army in a campaign to restore the Holy Land."  The article reported, "Yesterday noon, after being feted lavishly at their headquarters, 205 East Broadway, they marched through the East Side on their way to the British recruiting mission on Forty-second Street.  Their only music was the cheers of the thousands massed along the streets, showering them with comfort kits, flowers, tobacco and candy."  Isaac Marcus, described by the New-York Tribune as "an aged Hebrew patriarch," sent off his son, David, to the fray and "adjured him not to return until Palestine was restored to the Jews."

In the summer of 1924, Rabbi P. Goldberg of Adath Israel traveled to the Midwest.  At 6:30 on the night of June 1, he left St. Louis on a Wabash passenger train headed to Detroit, Michigan.  In a horrible accident, a freight train crashed into the passenger train.  The Kingston Daily Freeman reported, "The passenger coaches were telescoped by the crash into the freight and many passengers scalded."  Among the eight fatalities was Rabbi Goldberg.

A tailor shop occupied the basement level in 1941.  image from the NYC Records & Information Services.

By the middle of the Depression years, 205 East Broadway was home to the Maschel El Doll Aid to the Poor Society.  In 1938, with the Nazi Party in power in Germany, the charity organization initiated a fund raising "for Jews in Germany," according to The New York Sun.  Abraham Slutzkin, however, recognized an opportunity for himself.

On December 3, Reuben Lazarus arrived at the society office, telling secretary Emma Seiden that he wanted to donate five dollars, "because of his sympathy for the Jews in Germany."  Unfortunately, he only had a $17 check, made out to him from H. Papidus.  Emma accepted the endorsed check and promised she would have the $12 cash change by Tuesday.  

Reuben Lazarus was, in fact, Abraham Slutzkin.  When he returned on Tuesday evening, he never suspected that Emma had had enough time to discover his check was worthless.  Slutzkin followed Emma Seiden into the office to get his money.  The New York Sun reported that the shrewd secretary "locked Slutzkin in her office and telephoned for police."  The detectives who arrested him said "they had other similar complains against him."

At some point around this time, the cornice was removed from the building.  By the last half of the century, there were five apartments in the former house.  On May 24, 1969, the resident of the top floor held a "Spring Bazaar and Potluck Dinner" for the benefit of the Daily World and E. S. Forum, according to the announcement in the Daily World.

While no historic details survive within the former house, the exterior needs little imagination to envision as it did when wealthy occupants climbed the stoop 175 years ago.

photographs by the author

The 1908 Seward Park Branch Library - 192 East Broadway

photo by Jim Henderson

Born in the attic of a tiny house in Dunfermline, Scotland, Andrew Carnegie's family could not afford a book.  According to the director of the New York Public Library in 1902, the young Carnegie promised, "that if he ever obtained the means he would establish a public library."  True to his word, in 1901 Andrew Carnegie, now a multimillionaire, offered the City of New York a gift of $5.2 million to build free circulating libraries.  The condition was that the city would provide the land and maintain the libraries.   

On June 6, 1908, the Record & Guide reported that work on the foundations of the Seward Park Branch, one of the Carnegie libraries, had begun.  The branch was designed by Babb, Cook & Welch--the firm that in 1899 had designed Carnegie's 64-room neo-Georgian mansion.  (The firm, at the time, was Babb, Cook & Willard.  Daniel W. Willard left the firm in 1908 and Winthrop A. Welch took his place.)  Perhaps as a nod to the philanthropist, their design for the Seward Park Branch would have striking similarities to the Carnegie Mansion.

A turn-of-the-century postcard depicts the mansion.

The Record & Guide noted, "The library is one of the largest and most important of the branches yet to be built, serving as it does a very crowded district of the city."  The Lower East Side neighborhood had filled with mostly Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe.  Like Carnegie's, the families were too poor to afford books, and would heavily rely on the library.

The guide said, "The Jefferson st. front of the structure will be the most important and faces on Seward Park; but the two entrances are in wings on East Broadway and Division st."  One entrance was for adults, the other for children.  A rusticated Indiana limestone base would uphold three floors of red brick.

The Record & Guide said, "The interior finish will be of quartered white oak with rift grain Georgia pine floors and painted plaster surfaces."  On the first and third floors were the adults' circulation and reading rooms.  The children's department took up the entire second floor.  The roof behind the handsome stone balustrade was not wasted.  It would hold "a large out-of-door reading room, arranged to be well shaded by awnings when required and provided with electric lights for use in the evening," said the Record & Guide.

photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

The Seward Park Branch library was dedicated in the summer of 1909.  The ceremonies included school children who greatly impressed a New York Public Library official.  On December 26, 1909, The Sun quoted him saying:

Opening exercises usually have nothing of novelty about them.  This one had a novelty--the music supplied from an East Side public school.  The selections were of the best, and for young boys and girls whose parents had been but a few years in this country the execution was marvellous [sic].

from the collection of the New York Public Library

The school district's superintendent, Miss Richman, encapsulated the neighborhood and the children who would be using the library:

Not more than two per cent of the people in the districts which I superintend are of non-Jewish parentage.  At least 86 per cent of them are Russian Jews.  The others come from the various smaller countries of southeastern Europe.  Only a few of the parents of our school children were born on this side of the water.  Our pupils are only one generation removed from Russia, and the language of their homes, the synagogues and the shops which they frequent is some form of Yiddish.

Both the children and their parents were thirsty for knowledge.  The New York Times reported on May 9, 1913, "The annual report says that the Seward Park Branch of the library reads 425,571 books a year--that is to say, the readers take them home from the library and into their homes."  The article noted that of that amount, "only 51 per cent was fiction" and, "At Seward Park there are sterner uses for life and time than the reading of fictitious weal and woe."  It added, "Nothing short of an inspection of the Seward Park Library actually at work in its polyglot neighborhood will convey any idea of its enormous social power."

Throngs of children file into the second floor Children's Department.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

While they felt welcomed within the library which made books available in Russian, German, Yiddish and English, the immigrant readers were facing conspicuous discrimination outside the library's walls.  In his June 30, 1911 annual report, Federal Commissioner of Immigration William Williams denounced the Eastern European inflow, calling the refugees, "backward races with customs and institutions widely different from ours and without the capacity of assimilating with our people as did the early immigrants."  Despite this, the New York Public Library report that year said the Seward Park Branch circulated more books than "any other branch library in the world."

The children's interest in reading was reflected in the Seward Literary Club, organized in 1911.  The Bulletin of the New York Public Library explained in 1914 that it "is composed of Jewish boys who have met together for three years at the Seward Park branch to exchange reviews of books they are reading, to tell stories, and to hold occasional debates."

An article in The New York Times on March 9, 1913 flew in the face of William Williams's bigoted remarks of two years earlier.  "It is not far-fetched to say that many of the statesmen of the future are now in the making at Seward Park library," it said.

The open-air, rooftop reading room, sheltered by canvas awnings.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The library was, as well, a cultural center for the neighborhood.  In April 1914, librarian Frank Goodell worked with the Hebrew Sheltering and Immigrant Aid Society to organize an exhibition of figures of immigrant citizens.  The New York Times said the presentation was meant, "To demonstrate the serious character of the Jewish immigrants from Russia and Rumania and their eagerness for self-improvement and assimilation of American influence."

The cultural programs consciously related to the neighborhood demographics.  On December 30, 1917, The Sun reported, "At the Seward Park Branch Public Library there is now open an exhibition of the work of Nathaniel Dolinsky, a comprehensive collection of paintings and drawings."  Dolinsky was born in Russia in 1890 and at 23 was the youngest artist to be exhibited in the 1913 Armory Show.

Adults check out books in the Circulation Department.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

A letter to the New-York Tribune published on October 20, 1922, pointed out the sad ratio between the voraciousness of the children and the supply of books.  "There are sometimes but six copies of a book and sixty or seventy demands daily from school children," said the writer.

A crush of juvenile readers wait at the desk in the Children's Department. from the collection of the New York Public Library

In November 1959, four filmmakers produced a motion picture, The Lower East Side and the Library--Yesterday and Today, in celebration of the Seward Park Branch's 50th anniversary.  The Villager noted, "One factor shown to be constant, however, is that neighborhood residents and patrons of the library are still ethnically varied."

The film highlighted the changing demographics of the Lower East Side.  "An example of this continuing 'melting pot' aspect of Lower East Side life," said the article, "is a shot of three very different neighborhood stores standing side by side--a Jewish butcher shop, a Chinese laundry, and a Spanish 'bodega.'"

As the face of the branch's patrons changed, so did the library's outreach.  In the third quarter of the century, films were screened for children, like The Ugly Duckling on August 3, 1975.

The East Broadway entrance.  photo by Beyond My Ken

More than a century after it opened its doors, the Seward Park Branch library remains an integral part of the much changed Lower East Side neighborhood.  Babb, Cook & Welch's dignified structure is a symbol of the philanthropy of another poor immigrant who thrived in his new home of America.

Schneider & Herter's 1894 No. 251 East Broadway

In 1843 the house at No. 251 East Broadway was being used by two German-born piano-makers, John Ruck and Henry Reichard, as their instrument shops.  It was here that year that Reichard changed the piano forever when he invented the “pedal pianoforte.”

As the century drew to a close No. 251 was once again being used as a private home.  Brothers Francis Thomas J. and James J. Nealis lived here in a neighborhood that was seeing immense change.  The wide Greek Revival homes on East Broadway had been built for financially-comfortable families.   By the 1870s the neighborhood had filled with Irish immigrants, who were now being pushed out by the throngs of Jews fleeing persecution in Europe.

Following the death of Francis Nealis in the house on October 20, 1891, his brothers made a decision to leave.   On June 4, 1892 American Architect and Architecture reported that James Nealis had hired architects Graul & Frohme to design a five-story “brick and stone flat” on the site.  The Real Estate Record and Builders’ Guide was less complementary, calling the proposed building a “tenement.”

But the plans of Graul & Frohme lay on the drafting table unused.  Nealis sold the property to Simon Liboritz, his neighbor next door at No. 253.  On June 9, 1894 The Record and Guide reported that Liboritz was going ahead with plans to replace the house with a five-story apartment building; but he had changed architects.  Plans for the $20,000 structure were now underway, it said, by Schneider & Herter.

The architects were among the favorites of the German-Jewish property owners in the Lower East Side.  Ernest W. Schneider and Henry Herter would eventually design more than a hundred tenement buildings as well as commercial structures and two synagogues.

Their resulting five-story building would have been just another brick tenement had it not been for their exuberant terra cotta ornamentation.  Each red brick story was delineated by a contrasting stone course.  But elaborate terra cotta in the form of portrait panels, pediments and an explosive tympanum with a full-relief winged bust were more expected in a social or music hall than in an apartment building.

The overblown ornamentation disguised the meager means of the residents inside.  One of these in particular, however, would rise above his humble beginnings.

Rudolph Marks Rodkinson was born in Odessa, Russia in 1866.   At the age of 15 he moved to London and joined the Jewish theater, using the stage name Rudolph Marks.  The boy played with such famed Yiddish actors a Jacob Adler and Abraham Goldfaden.  Possibly through their encouragement—both of whom had found great success in New York—Marks arrived in the city four years later.

Now 19 years old, Marks succeeded.  The New York Times would later remember that he “appeared in productions in the old Bowery theatres with Max and Sophie Karp, Thomashefsky, Adler and Bertha Kalisch.”  He tried his hand at producing, as well, staging The Bowery Tramp at the Oriental Opera House.

But Marks felt he could better himself in his adopted country.   The year before Simon Liboritz completed his East Broadway apartment building Marks was studying law at the University of the City of New York.

In December 1893 the law student initiated his own legal battle—one which would result in a ground-breaking precedent.  Publisher Joseph Jaffa came up with a marketing ploy whereby he printed the photographs of university students then initiated a “voting contest to decide whether Marks was the most popular student.”

Marks, whom The New York Times described as “a Hebrew actor, at present studying law,” sued, saying that he had not consented to having his photograph published.   The Superior Court agreed.  Judge McAdam’s decision on December 29 ruled “No newspaper or institution, no matter how worthy, has the right to use the name or picture of any one for such purpose without his consent.”

Rudolph Marks was one of the first residents in No. 251 East Broadway.  In 1898 he was admitted to the bar.   His theater background proved advantageous to his new career.   Within months he was representing David Kessler, manager of the Thalia Theatre in his divorce case, and throughout the next decades many of his clients would come from the entertainment industry.

Marks’ hard work and determination resulted in an iconic American dream story.  Specializing in corporate law, he built up a sizable practice at No. 1440 Broadway.   By the time of his death in 1930 he and his family, including two daughters and a son, lived not in a five-story walk-up; but in a comfortable home in Cedarhurst, Long Island.  His son was studying medicine at Cornell University and one of his daughters had recently graduated from Barnard College.

Even the smaller panels were highly decorated.

Another Russian Jewish resident living at No. 251 when Marks first moved in was Dr. H. Solotaroff.   Many of the residents of the neighboring tenements were poor and ill-educated; a condition worsened by their inability to understand or speak English.

As the summer of 1894 approached, the Hebrew Institute at the corner of Jefferson Street and East Broadway initiated a program to educate mothers on the dangers of summer heat.  Thousands of circulars with the headline “Mothers!  It Concerns The Health of Your Children!  Come!” printed in English, Hebrew and Russian were circulated.   The fliers advertised upcoming bi-weekly meetings which, according to Leo Kohn, one of the association’s directors, are “to give the mothers of that neighborhood a general course of instruction upon the care and feeding of children during the warm weather, and particularly on the uses of sterilized milk and barley water.”

In order to communicate with the mothers physicians of various backgrounds were solicited.  Dr Solotaroff volunteered his time to instruct the Russian-speaking women. The first meeting, held on July 2, was a success.  The New York Times related that “the mothers listened intently to every word.  They crowded around the doctor after the lecture was over, and asked him a hundred questions.”  The newspaper projected that at the next meeting “there will be twice as many picturesque mothers and bareheaded babies present as there were yesterday.”

Despite Solotaroff’s selfless work among the impoverished community; his political bent may have alienated many.   An anarchist and sympathizer of the Russian Nihilists, he was active in the extremist political group.   Dr. Solotaroff was among the speakers at an Anarchist meeting on January 27, 1904 in New Irving Hall on Broome Street. 

The Sun described the crowd of more than 500 saying “There were Russian Nihilists—several who have seen the inside of Siberian prisons—and there were Germans and Poles and Swiss and Jews, mostly be-spectacled, serious and grave, with not a single red shirt or cravat visible.”

Why the ideals of the group were distasteful to most New Yorkers was evident in the opening remarks of Johann Most, publisher of Die Freiheit, a revolutionary newspaper.  “In corrupt, degenerate America, I have suffered more than in Europe, and here it is necessary to keep up the fight even more than abroad, and it is in America that a paper like Freidheit is needed.”

The East Broadway apartment building continued to house immigrant families for decades.  In 1931 40-year old Louis Wolkofsky’s family lived in a first floor apartment.  With him, along with his wife, were 12-year old Anna; Esther, 9; Aaron, who was 8; and 4-year old Miriam.

The Wolkofsky apartment was located directly above the basement boiler room.   On March 17 that year Anna was sick in bed.  Suddenly the apartment was rocked by a tremendous blast.  The boiler below had exploded and a fire ensued.

Anna was thrown from the bed onto the floor and Esther was burned. When the police arrived they found Louis Wolkofsky on the floor unconscious and bleeding.   The entire family was removed the Broad Street Hospital for shock and injuries.

Although ten families were driven from their homes, badly shaken, the fire was extinguished and they were permitted to return later that day.  The Times reported “Little damage was done to the building other than the shattering of glass in the lower rooms”

Sadly during the latter 20^th century the stoop and entrance were removed, replaced by a half-hearted attempt to disguise the alteration.  An industrial-type doorway was installed at the basement level.

In 2002 and 2003 repair of the façade resulted in the extraordinary terra cotta work gleaming once again.   It unavoidably highlighted the lost entranceway and ungainly patching, as well; and included encasing the stone base in hideous faux-stone.   But despite the losses, Schneider & Herter’s design survives—a reminder of a time when some architects strove to give residential dignity even to those of meager means.

photographs by the author