Rosario Candela's 1926 280 Riverside Drive

 

photo by Deansfa

In the fall of 1887, Bavarian-born brewer Peter Doelger began construction of his opulent mansion at the northeast corner of Riverside Drive and 100th Street.  He had come a long way since landing in New York at the age of 18 with no money, now joining the ranks of Riverside Drive homeowners like Cyrus Clark, James A. Dearing, and Samuel G. Bayne.

The Peter Doelger mansion, from the collection of the New York Public Library

Doelger died in December 1912.  Mary lived on in the mansion until her death on January 2, 1925.  That same year, real estate developers Charles and Joseph Paterno would complete construction of a neo-Classical style apartment building at 865 West End Avenue designed by architect Rosario Candela.  Within months of Mary Doelger's death, he would be working for the Paternos again, this time designing an apartment building on the site of her mansion.

Candela, one of the foremost apartment building architects of the period, designed the 15-story structure in a 1920s take on Colonial Revival.  Completed in 1926, its red brick facade was embellished with Georgian and Federal motifs.  Delicate neo-Classical designs in the Adam style filled the terra cotta spandrel panels between the second and third floors.   The entrance, located on West 100th Street (although the building took the address of 280 Riverside Drive) sat below a dentiled and arched pediment atop fluted pilasters.  

photo by Deansfa

Intended for well-heeled residents, the apartments made special provisions for servants.  They entered through the service elevator into a separate area that held the maids' rooms, pantry, kitchen and a "servants' hall" where meals were taken and staff could relax.

A three-bedroom apartment came with two maids' rooms.  New York Evening Post, September 4, 1926

An advertisement boasted that an eight-room apartment came with "4 baths and 14 large closets and more usable space than is obtainable in a five story residence."  The nuisance of messy ice boxes was eliminated with the building's "electrical refrigeration."

Among the initial residents was playwright Bernard Cutner Schoenfeld.  He finished his three-act comedy Speaking of Mammals in 1930 while living here.  Schoenfeld would go on to be a recognized screenwriter, writing the sceenplays for motion pictures like the 1944 Phantom Lady; the 1946 crime film noir The Dark Corner starring Lucille Ball and Clifton Webb; and Warner Brothers' 1950 Caged.

Living here in 1931 was Edna Barrie and her 16-year-old daughter Elaine.  (The daughter of a traveling salesman named Louis Jacobs, Elaine's surname at birth was Jacobs.)   That year Elaine went to the movies and saw John Barrymore starring in Svengali.  According to her, she immediately fell in love with the  married, 53-year-old actor.  Elaine Barrie's crush could not easily be dismissed.

Three years later Elaine, now a sophomore at Hunter College, read that not only were the Barrymores experiencing marital problems, but that the actor was hospitalized in Manhattan.  Pretending to have an assignment to interview a celebrity, she obtained access to the star.  It resulted in an a love affair. 

On September 24, 1935, Barrymore tried to squash the stories of his and Elaine's romance.  "All this stuff that has been printed about Miss Barrie and myself is a lot of hooey," he told a reporter from the Associated Press.  When asked about the eight-carat diamond ring he had given her, he brushed it off.  "I've given away a hell of a lot of diamonds.  It's a wonder she didn't get two.  The diamond might as well have been a topaz for significance."  He characterized his feelings for Elaine as "admiration and respect."

His wife, the former Dolores Costello, for one, was not buying the story.  She had already filed for divorce at the time of the article.

Elaine made her case known through the newspapers, as well.  The very next day, The Minneapolis Star ran the headline, "Elaine Barrie Tells Own Story of Barrymore Love / 'Knew He Was My Man When I Read of Rift With Wife'."   In a prelude to the piece, the newspaper wrote, "This is the first of a series of articles by Elaine Barrie, 19-year-old protégé of John Barrymore, great lover of stage and screen, in which the girl gives the background and details of her romance with the actor."

Edna and Elaine Barrie with John Barrymore.  The St. Louis Star and Times, October 34, 1935.

Elaine continued to write revealing articles about her illicit affair with Barrymore for months.  Journalists could not supply the public with enough juicy gossip and photographs of the two together, sometimes with Edna Barrie, appeared repeatedly in newspapers.

The on-again-off-again relationship seemed to be over on November 16, 1935, when The Miami Herald reported that according to Barrymore's attorney, Frank Aranow, "John Barrymore, the movie star, is under no obligation to Miss Elaine Barrie, his erstwhile protegee-fiancee [sic], and has her signature in black and white to prove it."  Elaine and her mother had signed statements "that Mr. Barrymore is under no obligation to them."  The attorney added, "Miss Barrie did not ask for any money nor was any money paid to her."

Elaine Barrie and John Barrymore in 1940.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

If the public thought the rocky affair was over, they were wrong.  Despite, according to the Ludington Daily News, Barrymore's saying of Elaine, "A man can't get along with a gal like that, " he and Barrie were married in Yuma, Arizona in November 1936.  On November 7, the newspaper said, "they climaxed a stormy courtship by dashing here from Los Angeles Sunday night to be made man and wife by Yuma's famous marrying justice."  Barrymore's fourth marriage did not last.  The couple was divorced in 1940.

photo by Deansfa

Living here by the early 1950s were Ben Heller and his wife, Judith Ann Goldhill.  The New York Times called Heller, "A gifted writer, tough businessman, superb athlete and impressive raconteur."  He and Judith Ann collected modern art, filling their apartment with impressive works that prompted painter Mark Rothko to call it "the Frick of the West Side."

In his 2019 Boom - Mad Money, Mega Dealers, and the Rise of Contemporary Art, Michael Shnayerson tells of the Hellers visiting Jackson Pollock's home on Long Island.

Heller was 27 that summer, tall and athletic with a full head of dark hair...What he loved was contemporary art.  Already he had bought his first painting, a Cubist canvas by George Braque, for $8,000.  Some 65 years later, he would laugh when he remembered that.  "What was I doing spending $8,000 on a painting when I had all of $27,000 in the bank?"

The Hellers left Pollack's studio with two paintings.  Heller purchased Pollack's immense 1950 work One: Number 31, spending $8,000 with the agreement he would pay in $2,000 increments over four years.  Shnayerson recounts, "'As part of the deal,' Pollock said, 'I'm giving you a black-and-white enamel painting."  That was his No. 6, 1952.  The Hellers would be back before the weekend was over, buying a third paining, Echo.

Pollack's One: Number 31 was too large for the Hellers' 280 Riverside Drive apartment wall. from the collection of the Museum of Modern Art.

The Hellers would have done well to measure their walls at 280 Riverside Drive before buying One: Number 31, which "measured nearly nine feet high by 18 feet across," according to Shnayerson.  

Heller's living room ceiling was inches too low for the unfurled painting.  Resolutely [Heller and Pollack] stapled the top of the painting directly onto the ceiling, a few inches out from the wall, then stapled again where the canvas met the corner, as if putting up wallpaper.  Pollock had no objections: he stapled the painting to the ceiling himself.

Size was again a problem in 1958 when Heller agreed to loan five paintings to the Museum of Modern Art.  Writing in his 2019 Whitman, Melville, Crane, and the Labors of American Poetry, Peter Riley tells of poet Frank O'Hara, who was working at the museum, dealing with the potentially disastrous situation.

O'Hara circulated a memo stating that of the five loans the museum was preparing to receive from collector and patron Ben Heller, "two must be unstretched to get them out of the apt at 280 Riverside Drive."  "The Still" had "very thick pigment on its surface and Mr. Heller has requested that someone from the Museum be there to supervise the workmen when they are unstretching and rolling it.

Hardware importer Robert H. Newmark lived here in 1972 with his two daughters, Renee and Roberta, who were 12 and 16 years old respectively, and his mother-in-law Hilda Hertzog in 1972.  Newmark's wife had died in 1960.  The 53-year-old operated his business from their 13th-floor apartment.  

On the afternoon of August 11, Renee walked into her father's bedroom to find him dead on the floor with three bullet wounds to the back of his head.  Investigators immediately suspected that the murder was politically motivated.  Newmark was a candidate for the position of assemblyman.  "Because the door of the four-room apartment had not been forced," explained The New York Times, detectives felt Newmark had been shot by someone he let in the apartment.  Hilda Hertzog had been in her bedroom when the murder occurred, but said she heard nothing.

Two years later, Newmark's slayer was arrested.  Irving Ohlstein, the 53-year-old president of the Dura-Tite Screw Company, had owed Newmark more than $200,000 which he could not pay.  And so he paid two hitmen, Lloyd Kurzman and Edward Mack $5,000 "to do the job," according to prosecutor John Jacobs.  Ohlstein was found guilty and sentenced to 15 years to life in prison.

Prominent civil rights advocate Marvin M. Karpatkin and his wife Rhoda lived in the building at the time.  Although he maintained his private legal practice, Karpatkin was elected general counsel of the American Civil Liberties Union in 1969, and was general counsel of the Central Committee for Conscientious Objectors.  He was, as well, a cooperating attorney for the A.C.L.U., the New York Civil Liberties Union, the American Jewish Congress, the Congress of Racial Equality and the National Welfare Rights Organization.  During the Vietnamese War he frequently testified before Congressional committees.

Among the residents in 1988 were producing director Paul Libin of the Circle In The Square Theatre; and producer Norman Kean, his actress wife Gwyda DonHowe, and their 15-year-old son, David.  The relationship between Libin and Kean preceded their theatrical connection.  The two met in 1955 while in the army.  Libin had started a theater and he and Kean acted in its first production.  And as well as having apartments in the same building, the families both had homes in Montauk, New York.

By now, Kean was best known for his producing Broadway's Oh! Calcutta!  He and Gwyda were married in 1958.  A graduate of the Goodman Theater in Chicago, she made her Broadway debut in Separate Tables in 1957.  Over the years she played roles in plays like the Tony Award winning The Shadow Box, and Applause starring Lauren Bacall.

The unthinkable occurred on the afternoon of January 15, 1988.  David Kean came home to find his mother's body in the bedroom.  Norman Kean had stabbed her repeatedly in the back around 8 a.m., according to investigators.  He then spent most of the day in the apartment before climbing to the roof and jumping to his death.  His body was found in the courtyard after David's discovery of his mother's body.

photo by Deansfa

Recently given the name Oxford Tower, the nearly century-old building maintains a commanding presence above Riverside Park.

many thanks to reader Lowell Cochran for suggesting this post

LaptrinhX.com has no authorization to reuse the content of this blog

Julius Kastner's 1885 1 West 100th Street and 406 Central Park West

 

photo by Anthony Bellov

While Fifth Avenue along Central Park developed with sumptuous mansions, Central Park West on the opposite side, saw the rise of residential hotels and apartment buildings.  In 1884 real estate developer George W. Eggers hired architect Julius Kastner to design two flat, or apartment, buildings on the northwest corner of Central Park West and 100th Street.  Completed the following year, each cost Eggers $14,000 to construct, or about $407,000 in 2022.

Faced in red brick and trimmed in limestone, Kastner's Beaux Arts design gave only slight hints that the two structures were not one.  The entrance to 406 Central Park West sat within a noble portico upheld by polished granite columns and topped by an ambitious, carved pediment.  A store occupied the sidewalk level, directly below blind balustrades which fronted the second floor windows.  Two-story faceted bays supported by garland-carved brackets provided charming sitting areas to the third and fourth floor apartments, and balconies to those on the fifth.

Around the corner, the portico at 1 West 100th Street upheld a balcony.  Rather than projecting bays, the design featured stone-and-iron balconies at the third and fifth floors.  Atop the cornice sat an imposing pediment.  George W. Eggers was apparently well pleased with his new buildings, and moved his family into 1 West 100th Street.

At the turn of the century, the store was home to the Park Pharmacy, operated by G. L. Walter.  It would be a fixture in the neighborhood for years.  (Interestingly, Walter held an excise, or liquor, license for the business.)

An advertisement described the five-room apartments as having "all conveniences."  Some of the occupants of the buildings were affluent enough to be included in Dau's New York Blue Book of Society.  Such was the case with John A. Bradshaw and John H. Fitzell.  They were not so wealthy that their unmarried daughters did not have to work, however.  Harriett E. Bradshaw taught in the girl's department of P.S. 87 on Amsterdam Avenue in 1903, for instance, while her sister, Bessie, taught at P.S. 170 on 111th Street.  Three years later Harriett was earning $1,320 per year and Bessie was making $1,272--around $41,000 and $39,500 today.

At the end of the 1920's, it had become apparent that Prohibition had grossly failed.  Rather than stop the production and consumption of alcohol, Prohibition had simply made it illegal.  Mobsters grew rich from bootlegging, speakeasies were omnipresent, and organized crime terrorized cities with murders and bombings.  Almost immediately after the end of Prohibition in 1933, James Kelly obtained a liquor license for the Central Park West store space, which he called the Boulevard Tavern.

Kelly's tavern and meeting room catered to Irish Americans.  On April 15, 1939 the Irish-American newspaper The Advocate announced, "A special meeting of the Clare F. C. will take place this Friday evening, April 14, at James J. Kelly's Boulevard clubrooms."

By the 1950's. Kelly's was the headquarters for several Irish social groups, like the Sligo Association; and for Irish athletic groups like the Galway Athletic Association, the Sligo Football Club, and the Cavan Football Club.  The tavern was such a well-known meeting spot for Irish New Yorkers, that it became the basis for a poem.  On January 24, 1953 The Advocate published Jim Valentia Smith's verse, "The Men I Meet at Kelly's."  It told the story of a "lonesome Irishman" visiting New York who wandered into the Central Park West pub.  The poem said in part:

The lads I met were Irish, and some from New York Town,

Who knew I was a stranger in this city of renown.

They asked me where I came from, and as each one shook my hand

He jumped with joy at my reply, "I came from Ireland."

The poem included a line that summed up the sense of fraternity at the Boulevard Tavern, "The men I met at Kelly's, no better on this earth / All of them of Irish blood, though some of Yankee birth."

The tavern remained, still home to several Irish groups, until about 1972.  But by then the demographics of the neighborhood were changing.  The retail space was divided into two.  One became home to a Kansas Fried Chicken shop, and the other to the Parc West Lounge.  

At 2 a.m. on September 14, 1974, two Parc West Lounge patrons, Jose Garcia and Charles White, began arguing.  Garcia, who was 25 years old, left and returned with a handgun and shot White.  White wrested the weapon from his assailant and shot him dead.  White was treated for his superficial wound and arrested for homicide.

A year later, at around 9:45 p.m., three men, one carrying a shotgun, entered the bar and announced a holdup.  As they went from patron to patron, taking cash and jewelry, a barmaid pressed a hidden alarm button.  The brutal robbers "pushed, kicked and struck four male patrons," according to The New York Times.  "Then they locked seven patrons and the barmaid in the restroom."

Police arrived just as one of the men was rushing out.  The New York Times reported, "After a search, a second suspect was found hiding in the basement, they said, and a third behind a radiator."  The four victims were injured seriously enough to be taken to Arthur C. Logan Memorial Hospital.

The Parc West Lounge was replaced by Park Lunch by 1986.  Today the ground floor has been dissected again.  The space where Irish Americans shared camaraderie for decades is now home to three small shops.  Overall (other than the storefronts), Julius Kastner's handsome 1885 buildings are nearly perfectly preserved, including the two columned porticos--so often victims of modernization.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

LaptrinhX.com has no authorization to reuse the content of this blog

The Lost Peter Doelger Mansion - Riverside Drive at 100th Street

In 1925 a massive apartment building can be seen in the background.  It had replaced the private mansions north of the Doelger residence and was a sign of what was to come along the Drive.  To the far right can be seen the Doelger carriage house.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

Born in Bavaria on March 3, 1832, Peter Doelger and his five brothers learned the brewery business from their father who ran a “small but prosperous brewery, in which he made a dark brown beer, known as ‘yellow’ beer, whose fame spread beyond the province,” according to the American Brewers’ Review decades later.

Peter traveled to New York in 1850.  The 18-year-old had big dreams and no money.  After working in New York for a year, he traveled to Savannah with the idea of starting a business.   But Savannah was a disappointment and he returned to New York where, with a brother, he started a brewery on Third Street between Avenues A and B.  This time he succeeded.   Nine years after setting foot on American soil the young man was ready to go it on his own.  He bought four lots on Avenue A and started an independent brewery.  Nearly single-handedly, Doelger introduced New Yorkers to beer—and they liked it.

The Sun remarked that when Doelger came to New York “lager beer, in the brewing of which he was to make a fortune, was an exotic and unappreciated drink…a mysterious German drink, as remote from most of the community as pulgue or vodka is today.”

Doelger and his first wife, the former Margayethe Lambrecht, had five children.  Mary died in 1878 at the age of 39.  Two years later Peter married Marie Wagner, who was better known as Mary.   The family was quickly increased when Marie was born later that year, followed by Cecelia (known as Celia) and Frank George, born in 1884 and 1886 respectively.

With a family of ten Doelger, needed an expansive home.   He chose a plot on the Riverside Drive at the northeast corner of 100th Street with sweeping views of the Hudson River and Palisades.  On September 5, 1885, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported "William Schickel is the architect for Peter Doelger's house, to be erected on One Hundredth street and Riverside Drive.  It will be one of the handsomest residences in the city."

Doelger may have been attracted to Schickel because of their shared heritage--both being born in Bavaria--and the architect's several works for the Catholic Church.  Doelger was an ardent Roman Catholic.

But the brewer seems to have been in no particular hurry to build his home.  His patience was quite likely due to the slow development of Riverside Drive this far north.  It was not until the fall of 1887 that construction began.  On January 7, 1888, The Record & Guide pointed out that work was being done on the house and stable.

Just five days earlier, The New York Times had noted, "Riverside Drive has assumed an aristocratic character.  Several houses, palatial in their appointments, have been constructed on the Drive during this year, and are in the course of construction, and land has been bought on which some of the richest families will doubtless build homes in the early future."  The article mentioned Peter Doegler's anticipated $100,000 mansion among those of millionaires like Cyrus Clark, James A. Dearing and Samuel G. Bayne.

Peter Doelger had, by now, come a long way from the nearly penniless 18-year-old newly arrived in America.  On November 2, 1888, the Australian newspaper The Petersburg Times noted that he ranked fourth in American brewers "and his wealth is said to run as high as two million dollars."  That figure would be equal to more than $52 million today.

The Doelger house was completed in 1889.  Schickel had produced a four-story, free-standing mansion faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Surrounded on three sides by gardens and protected by a chunky stone wall, the house was a somber take on the often light-hearted Queen Anne style.  It faced 100th Street where the entrance sat within an impressive portico upheld by paired stone columns.  It provided a balustraded balcony at the second floor.  Two additional balconies perched above two-story three-sided bays--one facing the front of the mansion, the other overlooking the drive.  Various sized dormers made the hip roof a visual mountainscape.  

On February 16, 1897, the house was the scene of daughter Madeline's wedding to William A. Morschauser.  Her 13-year-old sister, Celia, was the flower girl and 11-year-old Frank was the "page."  The more than 300 guests were surrounded by American Beauty roses and orchids.  The Doelger fortune was evidenced in the Madeline's wedding dress.  "The bride wore a costume of white satin, court train, point lace, diamond ornaments, and a diamond necklace, the gift of the groom," reported The New York Times.

Among the guests were other wealthy German brewers, like Jacob Ruppert and his wife, and Mr. and Mrs. George Ehret; as well as well-known society figures like John D. Crimmins and his wife, and Mr. and Mrs. Charles A. King.

The following spring, the wedding of Mathilde was celebrated in the Riverside Drive mansion.  She was married to Adolph G. Hupfel on the May 3, 1898.  Hupfel was the son of another German-born brewer, J. C. G. Hupfel, partner in the Hupfel Brewing Co.  The New York Times remarked "The ceremony was performed in the drawing room, a veritable floral bower."

Wealthy businessmen were expected to contribute to civic causes.  In 1899, a drive was initiated to enhance the collection of the Central Park Menagerie and the response was substantial.  Among the donations were a monkey and a peccary given by Lawrence  A. Libbert, two alligators by James E. Jones and an eagle by Edward F. Burke.  Peter Doelger's donation was less grand.  He gave an opossum.

The brewer seems to have been more generous in adding to his own collections.  In March 1900, the American Art Galleries auctioned off the "rare collection of Augustin Daly."  The Daily Journal of Telluride, Colorado reported the "valuable bric-a-brac, bronzes, glassware, rare china and relics" went for "ludicrously low prices."  The newspaper reported, "The highest price realized was $145, paid by Peter Doelger, a brewer, for a large ivory tankard, carved in relief and elaborate with repousse silver mountings."  The price Doelger paid would be equal to nearly $4,300 today.

At the time of the auction the United States, and New York in particular, were being plagued terrorist.  Most were anarchist groups like the Black Hand, or radical labor unions.  At around 3:00 on the morning of January 20, 1903, a man rushed up to Patrolman Relyea at West End Avenue and 101st Street and told him that two men were acting suspiciously in front of the Doelger mansion.

Finding no one around the house, Relyea tried the front and back doors and found them locked.  Despite the early hour, he decided to check on the family.  He rang the doorbell which was answered after a few minutes by two servants.  

Upstairs were Peter and Mary, the three children still living here--Mamie Celia and Frank--and three other servants.  Peter, now retired and 72 years old, had been ill for several weeks, confined to his bed.  While the policeman talked to the servants, he glanced down and, in the light from the hallway, noticed a pipe bomb lying near the doorstep.

The quick-thinking policeman woke up the coachman in the stable.  He told him to bring a pail of water to the porch.  The bomb was dropped into the water and taken to the West 100th Street Station. Superintendent George Murray of the Bureau of Combustibles inspected the bomb later in the morning.  It appeared that the fuse had gone out before reaching the powder.  

The Evening World published a photo of the pipe bomb.  January 20, 1903 (copyright expired)

He told reporters "If a damp fuse had not extinguished the spark just where it did the Doelger house would have been wrecked and doubtless several lives would have been lost.  The explosive was packed in the tube and the pipe caps were of great strength.  The explosion would have been a terrific one.  I never saw a more powerful bomb than this one.  It was made by an expert."

Peter Doelger, Jr. assured investigators that no servants in the house nor employees of the brewery had been fired recently and, according to The New York Times, "had not the faintest idea who could have tried to harm the family."  He did offer a clue, however.  A private detective agency had been offering protection services for homeowners in the neighborhood, but his father had refused to subscribe.  It was possible that the bomb was never intended to explode, but merely to scare the Doelgers into hiring additional protection.

In 1906, the guidebook Seeing New York was published.  It mentioned the mansion and a particular feature often overlooked by other chroniclers.  "Peter Doelger's large red-brick house...is one of the landmarks from the river.  A small herd of white deer is usually to be seen in a netted enclosure."

The Peter Doelger Brewery was headed by Peter Jr. now.  He and other brewers and distillers were challenged with the increasing threat of the Temperance movement.  An advertisement in 1911 offered a creative angle: it was medicinal and healthful.

Peter Doelger First Prize Bottled Beer is an article of diet, a tonic, and will like its popular forerunner on draught, be recommended by medical men, to convalescents in place of wine.  It is a natural food product, every drop laden with body building, healthful, food substances.  The ingredients of this beer are the same as those that go into the making of bread.

On December 15, 1912, Doelger died in his Riverside Drive mansion at the age of 80.  In reporting on his death, the American Brewers' Review said, "Peter Doelger was one of the last of the old guard of the pioneer beer brewers of this country, and no man did more to elevate the standards of the industry as a whole."

Mary received $30,000 and the use of the mansion, "his personal effects, carriages, horses and autos."  Each of the eight children received $15,000, and various charitable bequests included $2,000 for the poor of the town of Kleinwallstadt, Bavaria, and $6,000 to the Sisters of the Poor of St. Francis.  The rest of his sizable estate was to be put back into the brewery.  Interestingly, a provision demanded that no officer of the brewery could receive a salary exceeding $20,000 a year.

Following her period of mourning, Mary continued her works for Catholic charities.  On March 7, 1914, for instance, she opened the house for the Lenten Sewing Class for the Catholic Institute for the Blind.  At the time Frank, now 28 years old, and Celia, who was 30, were both unmarried and still living with their mother. 

On July 12, 1914, Frank was driving on Eighth Avenue with three passengers in his car--two women and a man.  He crashed into a crosstown street car at 116th Street.  The impact was so severe that all four were thrown to the street.  Luckily, only one, Lillian Reynolds, was injured badly enough to be taken to the hospital.

Celia's driving drew press attention for a pluckier reason.  On August 12, 1916, the Los Angeles Herald reported "Miss Cecelia Doelger, eldest daughter of Mrs. Peter Doelger of New York, holds the record of having driven her automobile up the classic trail on Mt. Greylock, 3500 feet high, the loftiest peak in Massachusetts.  No other automobile has ever gone up the mountain by this trail, which is narrow and steep and heretofore has been only used by pedestrians."

The family pet in 1921 was a black and white wire hair fox terrier named Jack.  Their love for the dog was evident after he got loose in February.  An advertisement in The New York Herald offered a $50 reward for his return--nearly $675 in today's dollars.

After a long illness, Mary died in the Riverside Drive house on January 2, 1925 at the age of 70.  The New York Times mentioned that she "helped generously many Catholic institutions, among them the Poor Clares, an order of nuns; the Holy Name Club, the Convent of the Repartreas, the Mary Knoll Convent and the St. Vincent de Paul Society."

Later that year Brown Brothers photo agency photographed the house, explaining it "will soon be demolished to make way for a large apartment house."  

from the collection of the New York Public Library

Completed the following year and designed by Rosario Candela, that 15 story Colonial Revival building still stands. 

The Bloomingdale Branch Library - 206 West 100th Street

Many New Yorkers could not afford the luxury of buying books in the 19^th century; and prior to 1880 the few libraries that existed were not open to the public.  But that year the New York Free Circulating Library was incorporated--an alternative to the Astor and Lenox Libraries (used mostly by researching scholars) and private libraries that charged membership fees.


The response was so great that the sidewalks around the first library—a single room in a building on 13^th Street near Fourth Avenue—were blocked.  At closing time on one occasion, only two of the 500 books were left on the shelves.

At the time the Upper West Side was seeing the first real signs of development.  But by 1898 it had become a vibrant suburb--one without a library.  In 1917 the Bulletin of the New York Public Library recalled "Above 23d Street there was no free circulating library south of the Washington Heights Library, six miles and a half to the northward, except the small library on West 59th Street provided by the Riverside Association."

Several churches offered their parish libraries to the New York Free Circulating Library, "but the trustees felt it best to wait until they could establish an independent branch."  Undaunted, Rev. Dr. Peters of St. Michael's Church turned over its 1,000 volumes.  Soon hundreds more books were donated and before long a makeshift library in rented rooms at 100th Street and Amsterdam Avenue was opened.  The Upper West Side residents had made their point.  The 1917 Bulletin noted "During the first full year of its existence the Branch circulated 105,410 volumes, the total number on its shelves being 6,253, which meant that each volume was taken out an average of 17 times during the year or once every three weeks, over twice the ratio of circulation for the whole system.  Larger quarters were an absolute necessity."

In February 1898 the plot at No. 206 West 100th Street was purchased for $12,900--in the neighborhood of $380,000 today.  Designed by esteemed architect James Brown Lord, the Blomingdale Branch of the New York Free Circulating Library was completed that same year at a cost of $35,000.  It opened on November 1.

Literature magazine noted the balcony above the portico, saying it was where "one may retire with his book in summer."  photo from the Bulletin of the New York Public Library, 1917 (copyright expired)

Lord had produced a striking Renaissance Revival building faced in limestone and trimmed with terra cotta.  Its classic facade received a splash of Beaux Arts in the form of leafy wreaths that encircled the oculi at the third floor.  The projecting portico with its stone upper balustrade, the two-story Ionic columns on the upper floors, and the handsome parapet broken by another balustrade, produced a dignified presence.  The architect was apparently pleased with his own work; for when he designed Andrew Carnegie's Yorkville Library four years later he recycled several of the architectural elements.

Three months after its opening, Literature magazine explained that windows at nearly sidewalk level and the absence of a grand flight of steps was purposeful.  To young readers, it said, "a flight of steps leading up from the pavement to an invisible and unknown interior would not seem inviting, to say the least; but when they can look through a window and see other boys and girls reading or getting books from the librarian, that is a different matter.  For one thing, they do not care to be outdone by their equals!"

The chairman of the Library Committee described the new building as "perfectly adapted" as a circulating library.  And Literature said it "may serve as a model of its kind."   The first floor stacks held 8,000 volumes.  On the second floor was the Reading Room, where periodicals and reference books were housed.  Said by Literature to have "quiet charm," it had small tables for the use of researchers.

As was the case with libraries nationwide, readers could use the facilities of the Bloomingdale Branch Library for free or take their choice of books home--as long as they had a library card.  For one newly-transplanted New Yorker, that detail proved annoyingly difficult in 1906.

Using only his initials S. R. as identification as his signature, the disgruntled bookworm fired off a litter to the Editor of The New York Times on January 4.  He had gone to the library that afternoon and filled out an application form for a library card.

In the space labeled "Name of Reference," he wrote in the name of his brother, "a member of a long-established and prominent business firm."  But the librarian tore it up and handed him a new form, "remarking that library rules forbade acceptance of so near a relative as reference."

So the man asked if a more distant relative would do--one he described as "a woman whose name has appeared in the Directory twenty-five years, eighteen years from the same address, and who, as I well know, has often been given and accepted as reference an another library branch."  The librarian rejected this proposal, as well.  "With scorn."

As the man scratched his head and pondered over his predicament, a young woman entered and exchanged familiar pleasantries with the librarian.  She introduced a friend who wanted to get a library card.

The women began filling out the blanks.  Within earshot of the new Upper West Side resident the librarian stopped the applicant.  She said that if her friend would vouch for her, "you needn't bother filling it out."  She handed over a library card.

In the meantime S.R., who had not yet established close friends, was told to find "some one in business for himself and not a relative" as a reference.  Fuming, he wrote his letter which ended saying "I wish to inquire whether the above is the rule of the New York Public Library, and why the other woman was not compelled to comply with it."

The Great Depression took its toll on City budgets and the operating hours of the Bloomingdale Branch were cut back.  No doubt much to the joy of the neighborhood, the "limited schedules" were returned to normal in 1939.

Originally on a street of private residences, in 1940 the library was dwarfed by apartment buildings.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

Throughout the decades exhibitions and activities were regularly staged here.  In September 1947 a South American exhibition in the Children's Room opened; and the following month the Halloween picture-book hour was held for children between three and six years old.

There were exhibitions for adults, as well.  In 1948 a display of Frank Bowling's photographs of Korea was staged; as was an exhibition of costumes and accessories of the 1890s.

On September 25, 1960 The New York Times announced that "The Blomingdale Branch, 206 West 100th Street, which has been in service for sixty-two years will close its doors on Friday in preparation for a move to a building nearing completion at 150 West 10th Street."

The building was purchased by the Ukrainian Academy of Arts and Sciences, a research organization established in 1950 by immigrants fleeing the Stalin regime.   Their memories of the Communist government were still fresh when, in 1986, the Landmarks Preservation Commission proposed the building for designation.

The Academy's attorney, Stephen J. Jarema reflected the group's suspicions when he said flatly "Our people who were fortunate to escape from a police state are fully aware that once the government imposes a police power, no matter how innocent, it will not disappear, but grow in quest of more power.  Forced obedience will replace freedom."

But eventually, in September 1989, they Ukrainian Academy of Arts and Sciences acquiesced and James Brown Lord's handsome structure was designated a landmark.

photographs by the author