Friday, July 10, 2026

The Meyer and Emilie Hoffman House - 122 East 57th Street

 

photograph by Ted Leather

In March 1876, real estate operator Andres Dold purchased a 204-foot long parcel on East 57th Street between Lexington and Park Avenues from Frederick Zittel.  The following year he completed a row of two- and three-bay wide houses on the site. 

Among the narrower examples was 122 East 57th Street.  Just 16-feet-wide, it rose four stories above a high English basement.  Faced in brownstone, its neo-Grec design included stone architraves with molded cornices and bracketed sills.

The houses along the block became home to well-heeled residents.  The Betts family first occupied 122 East 57th Street and, like their neighbors, their movements were closely followed by the society pages.  On September 6, 1883, for instance,  The Evening Telegram reported, "Mrs. H. W. Betts and family, of 122 East Fifty-seventh street, have left the Mansion Home, Monticello, N. Y., and are now at Saratoga."

Before long, Meyer and Emilie Hoffman purchased the house.  Living with them were their adult children, Clara, Maurice J. (known as Morris), and Julia May and her family.  Julia and her husband, Charles Brownold, had two children, Claudia and Irma.

Clara's wedding to Nathaniel Henry Wolfstein was held in the ballroom of Mazzetti's at 59th Street and Sixth Avenue on January 16, 1890.  The New York Times described the venue as being "prettily decorated with palms and clematis, and the bridal party stood under a canopy of white roses and lilacs."  Maurice Hoffman was Wolfstein's best man and Charles Brownold was one of the ushers.  The socially visible event drew guests from as far as Cincinnati and Philadelphia.

Maurice J. Hoffman died unmarried on January 21, 1892 at the age of 31.  His funeral was held in the parlor of 122 East 57th Street three days later.

It would not be the family's last funeral to be held here.  On November 28, 1904, Meyer Hoffman died at the age of 74 and his funeral was held on the 30th; and Charles Brownold died on June 24, 1913.  (While The New York Times noted that his funeral would be held in the house, it said it would be "strictly private.")

By the time of Emilie's death around 1916, the neighborhood around 122 East 57th Street had become decidedly commercial.  On May 1, 1917, The New York Times reported: 

The rapid transformation of East Fifty-seventh Street from residential to business purposes is further illustrated by a lease of the four-story dwelling, 122 East Fifty-seventh Street...for the estate of Emilie Hoffman to Harry Turner...The building will be altered by the installation of stores on the lower floors and apartments above.

Architect Herbert J. Krapp made $6,000 in renovations (about $151,000 in 2026 terms).  While the stoop remained, the basement and parlor levels were converted to shops.  They were quickly leased.  On August 5, 1917, The New York Times reported that Georges Chevrier, "cleaning and dyeing" had rented the ground floor store and milliner Frances B. Lankland had signed a lease on the "parlor floor."

Each of the upper three floors held two apartments.  An advertisement in July 1918 described one of them as having "Two very large rooms, kitchenette and bath."

In 1919, the Paris-based boutique Jeannetton, Inc. occupied one of the store spaces.  Its manager was looking for help in October 1920, advertising, "Girl for errands and shopping, white; experience required; $20 weekly."  (How much experience a young woman would need to run errands is unclear.)  The weekly pay would translate to about $320 today.

Victory magazine, September, 1919 (copyright expired)

Charles Finkelstein assembled a syndicate, the 122 East Fifty-seventh Street, Inc., in 1935 to purchase the building.  In reporting on the transaction on April 11, The New York Times noted, "The new owner will alter the building."

Before the end of the year, the stoop had been removed and a new two-story storefront installed.  The apartments, still two per floor, got a renovation at the time.

The 1935 renovations did not affect the 1877 neo-Grec window details.  via the NYC Dept. of Records & Information Services.

Shortly after the renovations were completed, 122 East 57th Street was the scene of a dramatic rescue.  On November 13, 1935, The New York Times reported that an "exploring expedition undertaken by a white Persian cat" had thrown the block into upheaval.  The feline was valued by its owner, Louise Kersch of 110 East 57th Street, at the equivalent of $7,000 today.  It had crawled from the window of the Kersch apartment and jumped sill-to-sill until stopping in front of an apartment at 122 East 57th Street.

The New York Times reported that its rescue entailed, "the calling of a police emergency squad."  The residents of the apartment were not at home, so police "rigged a life net of tarpaulin below the window in fear that the cat, some sixty feet above the sidewalk, might fall."  Traffic on the block was stopped and crowds gathered to watch the drama unfold.  Finally, police "forced a door" into the apartment and rescued the cat from the window.

At the time of that drama, the store spaces were occupied by two high-end antiques dealers.  Henry V. Weil occupied the parlor floor and Alfred Rich & Sons was in the shop at street level.  Weil advertised "genuine American antiques" in 1937, and that year The New York Sun remarked, "The firm of Alfred Rich & Sons...has made a specialty of cameo glass."

The constant search for rare glassware and china caused Alfred Rich & Sons to become a victim of a prolific crook in 1945.  Harry Francis Burke, who lived in a furnished room on East 50th Street, was "a collector of rare china," as reported by The New York Sun on June 22.  He had been arrested the previous day and police said his room was packed with valuable stolen glassware and china, including "an 1850 dessert dish from the J. P. Morgan collection."  The article noted, "The police said he also had stored several barrels of the merchandise in warehouses."  

Burke confessed that he had sold several items to Alfred Rich.  The New York Sun said that Rich "was unaware that they were stolen," but he was given a summons "for failing to keep proper books."

At the time of the embarrassing incident, the second floor space had been home to the East India Curry Shop for four years, having opened in May 1941.  Writing in The New York Times on April 3, 1944, Jane Holt reported that in addition to the many varieties of curry offered at the East India Curry Shop, "the establishment sells a concentrated curry sauce, which it blends itself."

Living here around midcentury was pioneer aviator David Hugh McCulloch.  Born on April 23, 1890, he was a pilot for the Curtis Airplane Company in 1910, and trained flyers for the U.S. Navy during World War I.  He served as co-pilot during the U.S. Navy's attempt in 1919 to cross the Atlantic Ocean by air, and continued to train pilots at Floyd Bennett Field until his retirement in 1946.  McCulloch was still living here on September 21, 1955 when he died following what The New York Times described as "a long illness."  

In the meantime, the ground floor continued to house upscale antiques dealers.  In 1949, Martin J. Ullmanns expanded its offerings by "making a specialty of designing mounts and shades" for antique vases and figurines to be converted into table lamps.  

From the mid-1960s until 1983, Philip Colleck of London occupied space here.  On November 25, 1965, The New York Times reported, "A sizable section of newly acquired pine paneling, once in a chateau in the environs of Paris, has been installed in the shop of Philip Colleck of London."  The article said the Louis XV paneling turned the shop "into an atmospheric stage for handsome furniture."

photograph by Ted Leather

In 1994, the lower two floors were combined as a restaurant and the upper floors converted to office space.  It was possibly at this time that the window details were shaved off.  Today the brownstone is painted and only the 1877 cornice survives to remind us of a time when the building was home to a wealthy family.

many thanks to reader Ted Leather for suggesting this post

Thursday, July 9, 2026

The Al Hirschfeld House - 122 East 95th Street

 


Developers William J. and John P. Walsh often turned to the architectural firm of C. Abbott French & Co. in designing their projects.  On February 19, 1887, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that they had teamed up again for a row of 12 "Queen Anne private residences" on East 95th Street between Park and Lexington Avenues.  Completed in 1888, each of the three-story residences would cost about $490,000 in 2026 money to erect.

Among the most eye-catching was 122 East 95th Street, the yellow brick facade of which was contrasted by ruddy terra cotta.  A dog-legged box stoop rose to the entrance.  The upper sashes of the grouped parlor windows contained myriad small panes--typical of the Queen Anne style.  They were reflected in the multiple square panels of the double entrance doors.  C. Abbott French & Co. united the parlor floor openings with a single arched terra cotta lintel filled with crisp, swirling foliate forms.

A projecting metal oriel dominated the second floor and the three windows of the third floor were capped by a triangular pediment filled with elaborate terra cotta ornaments.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Real estate operator Lewis Coon purchased 120 and 122 East 95th Street, painted and wallpapered the interiors, and then put them back on the market in September 1889.  His advertisement described them as "two of the most comfortable and well built new 20 foot, three story and basement private dwellings in restricted block."  Asking $20,000 each for the properties, Coon said buyers would find "no equal for the money on the island."  Calling the houses "strictly first class in every respect," he noted they were "elegantly trimmed in cabinet style; handsomely decorated and papered."

Lewis Coon sold 122 East 95th Street to Elias Einstein in July 1890.  The sale price would translate to about $730,000 today.  Born in 1830, Einstein was the head of a cloak manufacturing firm at 392 Broadway.  He and his wife had two adult daughters, Ida and Hannah, both of whom were married.

Elias Einstein (original source unknown)

In 1893, the Einsteins' eldest daughter, Ida, moved in along with her nine-year-old twin children Helen and David.  Ida  had married Jacob Rothschild in 1883.  The New York Herald said he held "a post of trust in a large mercantile house and drew a large salary."  But then, he "became dissipated."  (The term most often referred to alcoholism.)   Rothschild lost his job and, finally, Ida "went back to her father, who contributed to Rothschild's support as well as hers," according to the New York Herald.

Initially, Jacob Rothschild visited 122 East 95th Street to see Ida and the twins.  "Of late, however, his family saw little of him," reported the New York Herald in 1895.

At around 7:30 on the morning of May 19, 1895, a servant heard a noise in the vestibule.  He found Jacob Rothschild lying on the floor and called for Elias Einstein.  The New York Herald said that Rothschild was "breathing laboriously and in his hand was a small bottle partly filled with some liquid."  He looked up at Einstein and mumbled, "You won't have any more trouble on my account.  I have taken this poison, and I came here to die."

The 45-year-old was brought into the parlor and Dr. Louis Cohn, who lived nearby at 139 East 95th Street, was summoned.  Rothschild was unconscious when the doctor arrived and he died shortly afterward.

The following year, in June 1896, the Einsteins sold 122 East 95th Street to Solomon Baerlein and his wife, the former Lottie Kohner.  Solomon was a "special partner" with Lyman G. and Joseph B. Bloomingdale in the Bloomingdale department store.  

Although the couple had no children, their new house was well filled.  Moving in with them were Lottie's parents, Marcus and Hildegart Kohner, and Solomon's mother, Elise (known as Elsie).  Their advanced ages resulted in a series of funerals in the parlor starting with Hildegart Kohner's death on February 21, 1907 at the age of 70.  Nine months later, on November 7, Marcus Kohner passed away at the age of 76, and Elise Baerlein died at the age of 81 on June 21, 1908.

The parlor was the scene of a more joyous event in 1913.  On December 7, The New York Times reported that Rena Goldstein would be married to Arthur H. Schweizer "on Wednesday in the home of the bride's uncle, Solomon Baerlein, 122 East Ninety-fifth Street."

Starting in 1914, the Baerleins leased the house.  A series of well-to-do families occupied it until Solomon Baerlein's death in November 1924.  His estate sold 122 East 95th Street to the Empire State Holding Corporation in October the following year.  The house continued to be leased to a series of tenants until December 1947 when it was sold "to Albert Hirschfeld, the artist," according to The New York Times.

Better known to readers of The New York Times Drama Section as Al Hirschfeld, he was born in 1903.  He became the newspaper's caricaturist in 1929.  Dolly Hass Hirschfeld was his second wife.  They were married in 1943 and had a daughter, Nina.  Nina's name was always hidden in capital letters within her father's caricatures and finding them became a Sunday morning quest for readers of The New York Times for decades.

This self portrait contains two NINAs.

On January 31, 1948, The New York Times reported, "Plans for altering the three-story brick dwelling at 122 East Ninety-fifth Street for studio and residence were announced."  The years-long renovation resulted in the stoop being removed and the entrance lowered to below grade.  It was deftly replaced by paired windows that matched the originals on that level.  In order to create Hirschfeld's studio, the three third-floor windows were replaced with a large opening.  Hirschfeld had the yellow brick and terra cotta painted a cheery pink.

In addition to his top-story studio, the renovations resulted in five bedrooms and five baths.



For decades Hirschfeld would sit in theaters with his sketch pad, then return to his third-floor studio to create his final images.  According to The Wall Street Journal later, he would sometimes keep "his notepad in his pocket while drawing to avoid disturbing other theatergoers."

Some of the artworks found their way into the interiors of the house.  According to The Wall Street Journal, he commissioned "hand-painted fireplace tiles in Mr. Hirschfeld's unique caricature style," and at some point he had selected caricatures enlarged and printed on wallpaper panels for the second floor.  They included portraits of Charlie Chaplin, Frank Sinatra and Marilyn Monroe among other stars.

Al Hirschfeld at the piano on the second floor with his custom wallpaper in the background.  photograph by Jill Krementz, December 4, 1971

Dolly Haas Hirschfeld died in 1994.  Two years later, Al Hirschfeld married theater historian Louise Kerz. 

On January 21, 2003, the Fredericksburg, Virginia newspaper The Free Lance-Star reported, "Al Hischfeld, whose graceful fluid caricatures captured the essence of performers from Charlie Chaplin to Jerry Seinfeld, died yesterday.  He was 99."  Newspapers nationwide mourned him as a national treasure.

Eight years later, in February 2011, The Wall Street Journal reported, "The townhouse where the artist Al Hirschfeld drew his theatrical caricatures for more than half a century was sold for more than the $5.3 million asking price, after a bidding war."  (Louise Kerz Hirschfeld had married Lewis B. Cullman two months earlier.)

Anne Snee, the broker from the Corcoran Group, told the journal that the buyers, Paul and Denise Lachman, "plan to completely renovate and restore the house, but will protect and preserve large panels of Hirschfeld wallpaper by covering them with plastic panels."

The Lachmans sold the house in 2015 to Phyllis E. Battista.  The Real Deal commented on May 3, 2026 that she "is the ex-wife of Ben Odierno, the landlord who made headlines back in 2005 when he killed his second wife."


No. 122 East 95th Street still sports the pink paint chosen by one of America's most beloved caricaturists, and it continues to be a standout among C. Abbott French & Co.'s picturesque row.

photographs by the author

Wednesday, July 8, 2026

Sewing Women, Socialists and Theater - 85 East 4th Street

 

photograph by Carole Teller

Developers sometimes lobbied the Board of Aldermen to rename a block or two upon which their new upscale homes sat.  Their goal was to create the sense of exclusivity.  In 1836, Longworth's American Almanack noted, "Part of Fourth [Street], between the Bowery and Avenue 2d, has the soubriquet of Albion-place."

Among the fashionable homes on the block was 411 Albion Place, aka 411 Fourth Street.  Erected around 1834, it was two-and-a-half stories tall above an English basement.  Clad in Flemish bond brick, its Federal design included a peaked roof punctured with two dormers.  (The address would be a moving target for letter carriers and visitors.  It was changed to 427 Fourth Street in 1850, and to 85 East 4th Street in 1864.)

Hanna Brown lived here as early as 1836.  Born in 1774, she was the widow of Adam Brown.  Hanna had moved here from 38 Rivington Street.  After living here alone with her servants several years, she began suffering what The Evening Post would call, "a lingering illness."  She died at the age of 65 on December 16, 1839.  Two days later, a one-line notice appeared in the Morning Herald:

The widow of the late Adam Brown, a highly respected and deeply lamented lady, will be buried today, from 411 Fourth street.

(The fact that only the Adam Brown's name, not Hanna's, was mentioned in her funeral notice would be highly surprising and offensive today.)

Four months later, on April 21, 1840, Hanna Brown's things were auctioned in what today we would call an estate sale.  Auctioneer E. H. Ludlow described, "splendid fashionable furniture," damask and silk window curtains, and bronze candelabras among the offerings.

The house next became home to the Graydon family.  Born in County Tyrone, Ireland around 1781, John Graydon ran a "tingood" business on Beaver Street.  He married Elizabeth Whitley around 1803 and the couple had nine children, at least five of whom lived with their parents.  John W. was an attorney; Joseph and Samuel ran a dry goods business on William Street, William was listed in directories as "merchant" at 61 Cedar Street, and Jane Graydon Sherrerd was the young widow of Archibald Sherrerd, who died  in 1836, three years after their marriage.  The Graydon family's country home was in Ridgewood, New Jersery.

It was likely the Graydon's who replaced the Federal style doorway (which was now falling from fashion) with an up-to-the-minute Greek Revival example.  Engaged, fluted Doric columns upheld a substantial entablature and cornice.

The family received an unexpected package at the basement door on June 4, 1855.  The New York Times reported, "The practice of dropping babies has become almost a mania of late in the City.  Monday evening there was one found at No. 427 Fourth-street, and taken to the Almshouse."

It was likely the substantial Grayson population within the house that prompted its enlargement in 1857.  The attic was demolished and a third and fourth floor erected.  Construction was completed in 1858.  The alterations included a fashionable Italianate cornice.

John Graydon died in the Ridgewood house on January 29, 1864 at the age of 83.  His funeral was held in the Fourth Street house three days later.

In 1867, Hannah Hosier operated 85 East 4th Street as a boarding house.  Although well-to-do businessmen, like John D. Billings, a lawyer, and piano maker Edington B. Decker, boarded here in 1867; Hannah seems to have catered to college students.  In 1869, six Columbia University students lived here.

Jane E. Carman took over the operation of the boarding house in 1871.  On May 18, the New-York Tribune reported, "The Boarding-House for Sewing Women has been removed from No. 262 East Broadway to No. 85 East Fourth-st."  The house doubled as the headquarters of the Young Woman's Aid Association.

On December 16, 1875, The New York Times reported that Michael Ryan had purchased the house for $14,000 (or about $424,000 in 2026).  He and his wife Agnes operated it as a boarding house and his tenants were highly varied.  Living here in 1879 were the Gantzberg family--Albert was a weaver, Bertha a nurse, and Julius a teacher--as well as Charles Laroche, who was an actor; physician Alexander Weldmann; and a tax collector and two clerks.

The Ryans sold 85 East 4th Street to Charles F. and Marie Kremer in February 1883 for $15,500.  They converted the basement level to the Second Avenue Club.  The Documents of the Senate of the State of New York described it in 1887 as a "club and coffee house."

Two years later, in March 1889, the Kremers leased the house to Paul Wilzig.  By then, the once refined neighborhood was Manhattan's center of the Socialist movement.  Within days of Wilzig's signing the lease, on March 30, 1889 the Record & Guide reported that he had commissioned architect H. W. Fabian to renovate the interiors at a cost equal to $180,000 today.  

The result was Witzig's Hall, also known as Witzig's Assembly Rooms.  It quickly became a favorite meeting space.  On June 23, 1891, for instance, The Evening Post reported, "The Convention of the International Machinists' Union of North America was continued this morning at Witzig's Assembly Rooms."  And on August 31, the New-York Tribune reported, "A meeting of the new Socialist Central Union was held at No. 85 East Fourth-st. yesterday morning, and it was permanently organized under the name of the New-York City Federation of Labor."

The Kremers leased 85 East 4th Street to Robert L. Worm in July 1908.  He converted it to Casino Hall, while continuing to cater to labor and Socialist groups.  On July 30, 1909, the New-York Tribune reported, "A benefit concert and entertainment for the unemployed of this city will be given this evening in Casino Hall, No. 85 East 4th street, under the auspices of the International Brotherhood Welfare Association."

Labor disputes in the early 20th century often involved violence.  In 1910, the Cloakmakers' Union went on strike.  Rather than march in the picket lines, five workers went to Hunter, New York where they found employment.  It did not sit well with union bosses.  The New York Times reported, "When the information was received by the union, men were sent to Hunter to bring back the five members."

Herman Liberwitz was one of those workers.  When the train pulled into Grand Central Station, three of his comrades were able to escape.  Liberwitz and the other man were not so lucky.  They were brought 85 East 4th Street and beaten by Morris Stupniker, described by the newspaper as a labor union "strong-arm man."  Herman Liberwitz was "beaten over the head with a club and died of a fractured skull the next day," reported The New York Times.  The other man was "badly beaten."

Terrified of "starkers," (the lingo for a union goon who enforced union rules, patrolled picket lines and dealt with strike breakers), workers refused to give any information to authorities.  It would be four years before detectives got enough evidence to arrest Stupniker and union vice-president Max Sigman for Liberwitz's murder in April 1914.  

A persistent Deputy Police Commissioner Frank Lord was not done.  A year later, on May 12, 1915, The New York Times reported that he "went out last night to arrest east side gangsters, who, it is alleged, have been hired to do 'strong arm work,' and even commit murder."  Indictments against 34 men, "eleven of whom were gangsters, and twenty-three labor union officials in the textile trade," had been returned. 

In the meantime, Casino Hall continued to be a popular meeting place.  On June 29, 1914, an obviously unsympathetic New-York Tribune reported, "A number of groups of anarchists and other radical people met yesterday at Casino Hall, 85 East Fourth st."

Later that year, The New York Times reported that the Anarcho-Syndicalist League of Greater New York had been formed here.  "The symbol of the new league is a representation of the pyramid and mailed-fist urn in which were placed the ashes of Caron, who was killed when a bomb exploded in his flat."

On August 4, 1921, the New York Herald reported that B. H. Cohen had leased 85 East 4th Street for 21 years.  The article said he "will remodel it into a catering building."  Cohen initially kept the name Casino Hall.  It also continued to cater to Socialist groups.

On December 16, 1922, for instance, The Daily Worker, published by the Community Party, reported on the "fifth evening of the big six-day Russian bazaar" in Casino Hall.  That night would include a concern by composer and pianist I. Arnstein.

By 1927, the name of the venue was Royal Hall.  On December 2, 1929, The New York Times reported, "The injection of communism into a mass meeting of nearly 300 subway construction workers precipitated a clash yesterday afternoon in Royal Hall."  The article said, "chairs and water classes were used as weapons as scores of workers belabored each other."  Although no arrests were made, there were "plenty of black eyes and bruised noses, and several men were cut by chair rungs."

Another name change came by the early 1930s.  On May 5, 1934, The Daily Worker reported on a "gala entertainment and party for the benefit of the victims of Austrian fascism, at Palm Casino, 85 East Fourth Street."  (Reportedly, the Palm Casino was, in fact, a speakeasy owned by Italian-born gangster Charles "Lucky" Luciano.)

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.


After decades of catering to Socialist and labor groups, a portion of 85 East 4th Street became home to the United Ukrainian Organizations of the United States around 1939.  

The space that had seen raucous meetings and celebrations for decades became a theater at midcentury.  On May 7, 1955, The New York Times reported that actor Will Geer would sponsor a tribute to the late Vernon Rice "at the Folksay Theatre, 85 East Fourth Street."  The venue became the Downtown Theatre in 1956, to the East End Theatre around 1960.

On January 16, 1965, the New York Amsterdam News reported that the American Theatre for Poets had leased the East End Theatre, saying it "plans to remodel the theatre, enlarging the stage, and installing special new lighting and sound systems."  Once again, the theater was renamed.  On August 21, the New York Amsterdam News reported that Arise, Arise premiered "at the newly named Cinematheque East Theatre."

In the meantime, the rest of the building was known as Ukrainian Hall, home to the American-Ukrainian Heritage Society and the East Side Forum.  Appearing in the Forum in September 1967, was editor-journalist James Aronson who spoke on "1968: New Politics and Revolution?"

Less political events, of course, were held here.  On May 3, 1973, The Daily World reported on the Spring Candlelight Dance held here, sponsored by the American-Ukrainian Heritage Society.  Around 1981, Ukrainian Hall was renamed Ukrainian Labor Home.

As a boy, Denis Woychuk was brought to the Ukrainian Labor Home by his father, who was looking for work.  Years later, in 1983 and after becoming an attorney, Woychuk bought the building.  He opened the Kraine Art Gallery here and converted the theater space to the Kraine Theater.

Around 1993, Woychuck opened the Kraine Gallery Bar, aka KGB.  It was followed by a black box theater on the third floor called The Red Room.  That space was remodeled in 2013 as a speakeasy-inspired performance venue.

Sharing the building in the 21st century are the New York Neo-Futurists which, according to The WNET Group's website, "create theater that is fusion of sport, poetry and living-newspaper;" a branch of the New York Comedy Club; and the long-lasting KGB Bar.

photograph by Carole Teller

Despite its many iterations and several unsympathetic alterations like the parlor-floor entrance, it is not difficult to imagine the house when the wealthy Graydon family occupied it a century-and-a-half ago.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

Tuesday, July 7, 2026

The Gamaliel and Amelia Rose House - 169 West 87th Street

 


Working as Wilson and Tichborne, William C. G. Wilson and James Tichborne helped to mold the countenance of the Upper West Side in the late 19th century with handsome rows of upscale homes.  In 1889 they hired architect Gilbert A. Schellenger to design another--a row of six 17-feet-wide townhouses at 159 through 169 West 87th Street just east of Amsterdam Avenue.

A marriage of Romanesque Revival and Renaissance Revival styles, 169 West 87th Street was faced in brownstone.  Like its neighbors, it was three stories tall above a high English basement.  The two styles existed harmoniously at the parlor level where the undressed stone was Romanesque while the prim, fluted pilasters with their lotus leaf capitals were purely Renaissance Revival.  A colorful stained glass tympanum unified the paired windows at this level.  The two upper floors, separated by a projecting bandcourse, were striated--the second by narrow rows of rough-cut stone and the third by incised lines.  A triple layered cornice crowned the design.

On March 29, 1890, the Record & Guide reported that Wilson & Tichborne had sold the house to "Mr. Rose" for $23,500 (about $858,000 in 2026 terms).  "Mr. Rose" was Gamaliel S. Rose, the "paying teller" of the Seventh National Bank.

Moving into the house with him and wife, Amelia, were their daughter Caroline and her husband William S. Hull, a real estate operator.  The family went about their lives quietly and while Hull's name appeared in newsprint regarding real estate transactions, they evaded the notoriety of the society pages.

The quietude of the Rose family's lives was shattered in 1901 when three executives of the Seventh National Bank, including Gamaliel S. Rose, were indicted by a Federal Grand Jury.  On September 23, Rose appeared at the Federal Building to answer charges of the "unlawful certification of the checks of Henry Marquand & Co."  The president of the bank was charged with "conspiracy against the United States."

A secondary headline in The New York Times said, "Messrs. Kimball and Rose and F. B. Poor Held in Heavy Bail."  Indeed, it was.  Rose's bail was set at $5,000, the equivalent of $195,000 today.  His attorney complained, "As for Mr. Rose, it is pretty hard lines for a $1,500 clerk to be put under $5,000 bail for doing what he was told to do by the President of the bank."

Unfortunately, the legal process was sluggish.  Six months later, on March 13, 1902, Rose's attorney asked the courts to dismiss his case.  He was denied.  The trial finally concluded on February 14 the following year.  While all three men were found guilty, "sentence was suspended in the case of Gamaliel S. Rose," reported the New York Herald.

With the embarrassing publicity finally behind them, the Rose family returned to social anonymity.  Their names did not appear in newspapers again until Amelia's death on October 18, 1921.  Her funeral was held in the parlor on October 20.  Just four months later, on February 13, 1922, Gamaliel R. Rose died here.  His funeral was held in the house on the 20th.

Caroline inherited 169 West 87th Street and she and William moved out shortly after.  By 1925, she was leasing 169 West 87th Street to Frank Finkelstein and his wife, the former Sylvia Lekin.  Their baby boy was born in the house on March 11 that year.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

At the time of the Finkelsteins' happy event, Saul A. Rothschild operated his funeral chapel at 2003 Seventh Avenue.  As early as the fall of 1929, he had moved the Saul A. Rothchild's Central Funeral Chapel into 169 West 87th Street, where it would remain for years.

The estate of Caroline L. Hull sold the house to Michael Fahey in October 1938.  Daughter Kathleen M. Fahey was a teenager when the family moved in.  When America entered World War II, she enlisted in the U.S. Navy Reserves as a WAVE.  On June 6, 1945, The New York Sun reported that Kathleen, now with the rank of lieutenant junior grade, had passed the training to be a navigator.  Another WAVE in the group explained, "like the men navigators, we'll be used where the Navy needs us.  We may be assigned to classes or we may be assigned to fly, either on cargo or passenger planes."

George C. Joannides purchased 169 West 87th Street in 1951, converting it to furnished rooms.  Then, around 1971, the West Side Community Nursery School moved in.  Established in 1964 on West 90th Street, the school was one of the first private agencies to accommodate both tuition-paying students and those funded by the Federal Head Start program.

Around 1983, the name was changed to Escalera Head Start.  Still occupying the building, it provides care and instruction to children from two to five years old.


The exterior of the Rose house survives essentially intact.

photographs by the author

Monday, July 6, 2026

The Lost Metropolitan Realty Building - 214-218 William Street

 

The roof of the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge fills the lower right corner of the frame.  King's Photographic Views of New York, 1895 (copyright expired)

Following Preserved Fish's death in 1846, The Merchant's Magazine and Commercial Review described him as "a rough, obstinant, and eccentric man."  Until 1835, the shipping magnate had lived at 218 William Street, a three-story brick house, "built in a most substantial manner, with 16 inch walls," according to The Evening Post on June 5 that year.

Preserved Fish would not have recognized his old neighborhood in 1870, when construction began on the Brooklyn Bridge, the access road of which would rise just steps away from where his front door had been.  And then, on September 12, 1891, the Record & Guide reported, "The Metropolitan Realty Co. will tear down the old buildings at Nos. 214 to 218 William street, running through to Nos. 18 and 20 Rose street, and erect on the site a large building."

Four months later, on January 9, 1892, the journal reported that William Wheeler Smith was drawing plans for "a thirteen-story...building for manufacturing purposes" on the site.  Saying that it would be "thoroughly fire-proof," the article noted there would be 700 windows, "four elevators and steam heat throughout."  Wheeler placed the construction cost at "between $400,000 and $500,000"--$14.6 million and $18.3 million in 2026 terms.

The Metropolitan Realty Building was completed in 1893.  The plans had been tweaked and the finished structure was 15 stories tall.  As promised, its quadripartite Renaissance Revival design boasted extensive fenestration--the hundreds of windows grouped, for the most part, in threes and fours.  Other than limestone lintels and bandcourses that defined each section, Wheeler's design focused on utility rather than architectural beauty.

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

An advertisement in The Sun on March 19, 1893 called the Metropolitan Realty Building the "strongest, lightest, best-equipped building in this city" and boasted, "windows on four sides."  A more objective testimonial came from The Electrical Age, which wrote on February 8, 1896, "This building is the strongest and best fitted-up fireproof building ever constructed in the city for manufacturing purposes."  It noted that it "has a complete electric light plant."  (Commercial electricity was unreliable and most early skyscrapers like this one had their own dynamos to create power.)

The Metropolitan Realty Building sat within the printing and publishing district, and Smith had designed the building to support heavy printing presses and similar machinery.  Among the initial tenants were W. B. Keller Printing & Publishing, Gardiner Binding and Mailing Company, H. A. Rost Printing & Publishing Company, and the Blumenberg Press.

Like several of its competitors in the building, H. A. Rost Printing & Publishing Co. handled both large and small jobs, the latter typified by the 100-page brochure "The Twenty-Sixth Meeting of the American Society of Railroad Superintendents," published in 1898.  But that year it introduced a novel product, "illustrated mail and postal cards."

A few years before postcards would become a staple of every tourist's trip, an 1898 H. A. Rost ad offered postcards as an advertising novelty, decorated on the front with photography or lithography.  It said in part, "our facilities enable us to take any size plate, from the smallest to the largest, ever made in the country.  Specialties: Exteriors and Interiors of Buildings and Ships, scenery, etc.).

A self-advertising H. A. Rost postcard shows workers in tight quarters and without the advantage of the building's numerous windows.

The Blumenberg Press initiated its own weekly trade journal in 1899, called Paper.  In its April 1899 issue, The Inland Printer called Paper, "one of the handsomest and most interesting weekly magazines which we have seen for a long time."  The gushing review said, "there is no phase of the paper interest which the magazine does not seem to cover, and the numerous and beautifully printed portraits and views are most interesting."

There were, as well, several tenants associated with the burgeoning electric industry.  In 1895, Dale, Farrell & Co. was established, described by The Electrical World as "a new firm of electrical and mechanical engineers and contractors."  While their offices were on Trinity Place, the firm installed its factory in the Metropolitan Realty Building.  Already here was the Electrose Manufacturing Company, which manufactured telephone parts.  And in May 1899, Frederick Pearce & Company, "manufacturer of and dealer in Electricians', Telegraph, Telephone and Electric Light Apparatus," moved its "office, salesroom and factory," into the building, as announced in The Iron Age.

The 1915 Howitzer Advertiser (copyright expired)

Both Edward N. Lynch and Oswald Maune headed printing establishments in the building in 1904.  And, coincidentally, they lived directly across from one another on Vernon Avenue in Brooklyn.  The Lynches had three daughters, including Margaret, and the Maunes had a two sons.  One was a priest and the other, Oswald Jr., was the chief assistant in his father's firm.  The New York Press called Margaret, "one of the prettiest girls in St. John's parish."

In 1901, according to the New York Press, Oswald Jr. "went a-wooing to the Lynch home."  After a "short courtship" his and Margaret's engagement was announced at a "festive gathering in the Lynch dwelling."  One evening in 1904, according to The Sun, "Maune light-heartedly crossed the street from his home.  An hour later he returned sobbing bitterly...Maune saw his fiancée that evening, but mystery veils what passed between them."

What passed between them became evident within a few months.  Margaret checked into a Manhattan maternity hospital as Margaret Lawrence in March 1904.  But she quickly had a change of mind.  The Sun explained that she "sent a letter to Sister Theresa, the superior in charge, in which she said that she was going to commit suicide.  At the same time, her mother received a letter in which the girl said she was going to end her life."

On April 2, a young woman's body was found in Greenfield Cemetery in Mineola, Long Island.  At the time, an illegitimate pregnancy or a suicide would be scandalous and humiliating for a family.  The two together would be unthinkable.

Mrs. Lynch and a family friend, Rev. Father Burns, went to Mineola and identified Margaret's body.  The Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported, "They decided at the time that it would be best to avoid all publicity in the matter, and for that reason Mrs. Lynch did not tell even the local authorities that the dead woman was her daughter."  Mrs. Lynch told the coroner's physician that the girl was Margaret Laimbeer, and anonymously gave him $100 "to give decent burial to the unfortunate girl," as reported by the Brooklyn Daily Eagle.

In the meantime, Oswald's renunciation of Margaret had gnawed on his consciousness until, according to a servant in the house, "young Oswald Maune was in an insane asylum, but she did not know where," according to the Brooklyn Daily Eagle on September 20.

The secret of the Shakespearean-worthy tragedy unraveled in August when The Press discovered that the girl who "was laid in a dishonored grave in Greenfield Cemetery" on April 15, was Margaret Lynch.  The newspaper called Margaret's and Oswald's story, "remarkable," saying it entailed...

two families of social position and exceptional refinement, involving the courtship and engagement of a beautiful girl and a youth of rare promise, and telling of unhappy separation, the young going to an insane asylum, the maid drifting downward to suicide.

Hardware Dealer, October 1895 (copyright expired)

Conreid Langsdorf worked as an electrotyper for Edward Flower & Co., here in 1905.  He used his professional skills to devise what the Pinkerton Detective Agency described as "the newest and most clever method of swindling savings banks."  That fall, Langsdorf opened an account at the Williamsburg Savings Bank with a $35 deposit and received his new bank book.  He made two more deposits, bringing his balance on January 22, 1906 to $75 (about $2,775 today).

On January 24, he withdrew $60.  Then he took his bank book to work, disassembled it and removed the page with the debit.  He then expertly reproduced a blank page, inserted it, and rebound the book.  Now his balance appeared, again, to be $75.  He would, most likely, have gotten away with the scheme if he had not repeated it within quick succession.  A teller became suspicious and Langsdorf was arrested on March 15.  He seemed to have been more prideful than remorseful about his clever scheme.  He confessed to detectives:

I got the idea quite a while ago that I could do the savings banks out of plenty of money.  I was going to open accounts in a dozen other banks if I got enough capital out of the Williamsburg Bank.

A vintage postcard shows the Manhattan Realty Building and the bridge approach in the upper left.  image courtesy of Peter Alsen.

Labor troubles in the early 20th century often came with violence and mayhem.  Frederick Pearce & Company had large contracts with the U.S. Government during World War I, but at the conflict's end, they were cancelled.  The firm "had to let many of their employe[e]s go," explained the New York Herald.  In response, 250 of the remaining 335 employees went on a "sympathy strike."

At 10:00 on the morning of May 14, 1919, a boy who worked for Frederick Pearce & Company went to the 14th floor where the firm stored supplies.  There, in the middle of the floor, was a chest.  The curious youth opened it to find a large bomb.  He ran to Walter and Charles Pearce, heads of the firm, who notified the Bureau of Combustibles.  Inspector Owen Egan described the bomb as containing "three pounds of black powder [that] would have blown the upper floors of the building to pieces and thrown the lower floors onto the superstructure of the Brooklyn Bridge, where hundreds of persons are continually arriving and departing on the cars and trains."

This 1941 photograph shows how closely the Metropolitan Realty Building sat to the Brooklyn Bridge approach.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

When the Metropolitan Realty Building was sold in December 1941, The New York Times mentioned that it "is occupied largely by printing concerns."  Among the tenants at the time was the newly established Il Mondo, an Italian daily newspaper.

In 1955, the Metropolitan Realty Building was demolished to make way for the Park Row approach and the widening of the roadways that accessed the Brooklyn Bridge.

many thanks to reader Peter Alsen for suggesting this post

Saturday, July 4, 2026

The 1838 Jacob Weeks House - 64 East Third Street

 

photograph by Carole Teller

Builder John Hanrahan erected two identical, brick-faced homes at 56 and 58 Third Street (renumbered 62 and 64 East 3rd Street in 1867) around 1838.  The 18-foot-wide residences were designed in the emerging Greek Revival style.  Intricate cast iron stoop railings wrapped the newels, which sat atop stone drums.  Typical of the style, the entrance was slightly recessed behind sturdy pilasters that supported a heavy stone entablature.  The doorway was flanked by narrow sidelights and topped by a three-part transom.  The third floor openings would have been slightly shorter than the others, and a simple wooden cornice would have completed the design.

Robert Carnley, the original owner of 58 Third Street, either quickly sold or rented the house to coal merchant Jacob Weeks.  He was born on Mott Street on June 25, 1803 and The New York Times later recalled, "His parents were English Quakers, of thrifty and industrious habits, and inculcated in their son almost from the cradle those lessons of economy and attention to business that laid the foundation of a large fortune."

Weeks operated three coal yards--on the Bowery, Greene Street and Houston Street.  He added another profession to his listing in the 1840 city directory: "builder."  The New York Times explained, "the universal up-town movement of population decided him to embark in real estate operations.  At that time, he occupied a modest mansion in Third-street."

In the rear yard, as was common at the time, was a smaller house.  Such structures were often used as rental income.  A Black family occupied the rear house of 58 Third Street in 1840.  They were terrified that spring when their son went missing.  An announcement in The Evening Post on May 20 read:

Missing--On the 5th instant, a colored boy, nine years old, named Lawrence Williams, left his home in a manner so mysterious that it thought he was kidnapped.  His complexion is rather light, has an impediment in his speech, and when he went away he was poorly dressed and barefooted.  Any information respecting him, left in the rear of 58 Third street, with his father Thomas Williams, would be gratefully received by his anxious parents.

Thomas M. Cornwell was a trusted clerk of Weeks and as early as 1843 he and his wife, Georgeana, boarded in the East 3rd Street house.  On April 27 that year, the New-York Tribune reported a shocking incident, saying that Jacob Weeks had been arrested "and committed for stealing $19 from the drawer of Thos. Cornwell, 58 Third-street."  The article prompted an immediate reaction from Jacob Weeks.

In fact, the perpetrator was David Roberts.  The following day, the newspaper published an apologetic correction, "owing to the mistake of our informant," and stressed that Jacob Weeks was "a highly respectable man."

The amiable employee-employer relationship was apparently strong and 15 years later the Cornwells were still living with the Weeks.  In October 1857, Georgeana gave birth to their first son, Thomas Jr.  Tragically, he died eight months later on May 15, 1858.

The Cornwells moved out shortly afterward.  Jacob and his wife remained until 1865.  By then, his real estate development business was flourishing.  For instance, he erected "a row of magnificent residences," as described by The New York Times, that engulfed the western blockfront of Fifth Avenue between 57th and 58th Streets.  (They would be replaced by the sprawling Cornelius Vanderbilt II mansion.)  When Jacob Weeks died on September 9, 1881 in his mansion at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 58th Street, he left an estate estimated "at from $3,000,000 to $4,000,000," according to The Times.  It would translate to about $95 million on the lower side in 2026.

In the meantime, the East 3rd Street house was rented to the David H. Goodman family.  Goodman ran a clothing business at 116 Chambers Street.  He and his wife suffered an unspeakable tragedy shortly after moving in.  On August 19, 1865, The New York Times reported that their five-year-old son, "was accidentally run over, and instantly killed" by a streetcar at Third Street and Second Avenue.

The Goodmans were replaced in the house around 1867 by Edward Mehl, who operated two saloons--one at 661 Broadway and the other at 156 Fulton Street--and his family occupied 64 East 3rd Street.  The Mehls remained at least through 1871.

The house was owned by William Hoertel as early as March 12, 1876 when he offered, "To Let--A second floor, furnished, suitable for a gentleman and wife; or will let separate to single gentlemen."  Hoertel quickly changed his mind, however, and two months later he sold the house to Jacob and Marie A. Kessler for $12,000 (about $362,000 today).

The Kesslers operated it as a boarding house.  Among the residents in 1879 were Conrad Latus, a meat dealer in the Centre Market; Michael W. Meagher, a stenographer; and Herman Wellhausen, who worked as a clerk.

After boarding here for at least four years, on July 1, 1883 Conrad and Catharine Latus purchased the house for $11,500.  Their young adult daughter, Kate, taught in the Primary Department of Grammar School No. 4 on Rivington Street.

As early as 1887, Dr. John F. Sherman lived here.  He operated his practice from the house, likely in the basement level.  He was called to a rooming house on the Bowery in January that year to attend Alice Collins, a 19-year-old girl who had attempted a self abortion.  She died on January 29 and Sherman "refused a death certificate," instead referring the case to the coroner.  The coroner's inquest discovered that Redfield Clarke, an actor, "had betrayed the girl."

Dr. John F. Sherman was intimately aware of "betrayal."  Five years earlier, when he was 24 years old and living with his mother and step-father on Clinton Street, he met a 15-year-old girl, Matilda L. Stowell.  The New-York Tribune said "he betrayed her under promise of marriage."  When Sherman's step-father, George Sherman, heard that he had "ruined" the teen, he threatened "to break every bone in his body," according to the New-York Tribune, if the young doctor did not marry her.  And Matilda's family threatened "with incarceration in Ludlow Street Jail."

The wedding took place on June 3, 1882, but the couple never lived together.  Now, on January 22, 1889 Sherman sought an escape from Matilda when she sued for support.  He applied in court to annul the marriage "on the ground that he was intoxicated when it took place," as reported by the New-York Tribune, and that he had been under intense pressure and threats.  Sherman told the court that he "is so upset by the persistent demands of his wife that he should live with her and by threats of publicity that he is unable to carry on his business as a physician."  (It is unclear how the case played out.)

Real estate operator Anna Maria Fronmuller purchased the house in April 1891 for $16,250--equal to about $578,000 today. Exactly one year later, on April 2, 1892, the Record & Guide reported that she had hired architects Boekell & Son to make the equivalent of $124,000 today in renovations.  The house was enlarged with a three-story extension in the rear, "interior alterations" were made, and the exterior was given a Queen Anne-style re-do.

Decorated pressed metal cornices were applied over the lintels, and an elaborate entablature and pedimented cornice was placed over the entrance.  It was echoed in the corbeled terminal cornice with its triangular pediment.

64 East 3rd Street originally matched No. 62 next door.  When this photograph was taken in 1940, workers were painting the brick.  The Greek Revival stoop ironwork was intact.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The residents in the renovated home were middle-class.  On May 16, 1901, for instance, the Morning Telegraph reported, "Julius Harburger pushed his little cart Tuesday from 104 Second Avenue, his old home, to 64 East Third street, where he will abide in the future."  Harburger was an assemblyman, and in the cart were "the manuscripts of all the speeches" he had made "during the last thirty-one years," according to the newspaper that added, "He wouldn't let any one else touch them."

Julius Harburger was born on February 22, 1851.  He was elected president of the Tenth Assembly District in 1876 and to the New York State Assembly in 1876.  He would go on to become Coroner of New York City in 1905 and Sheriff of New York County in 1911.

Julius Harburger, from the collection of the Library of Congress

Harburger's wife, Hattie, was also politically active.  On October 6, 1901, The New York Times reported, "Mrs. Julius Harburger, wife of Assemblyman Harburger, and President of the Women's Democratic Club of the east side, presided at a meeting of the auxiliary Committee of the club" in the house.

Following the Harburgers in the house in 1902 was Dr. Solomon Goldenkranz, the city coroner.  (Ironically, Harburger would replace him in that position three years later.)  In 1902 Goldenkranz was disgruntled with the changes in the neighborhood.  He told a reporter from the New-York Tribune in August:

There is a row of houses in the next block where the passer on the street would have no difficulty in picking out evidence of the presence of vicious people.  Then in the cafes and billiard rooms there is a great deal of gambling going on.  These little German cafes, as well as some of the bigger Raines law hotels, are the resorts of people of this sort.

The mention of "Raine law hotels" referred to saloons that operated rooms upstairs for prostitution.

There was at least one person who was aggravated by Goldenkranz's appointment to coroner and, according to Goldenkranz, he "was conspiring to kill him."  So when two mysterious packages arrived at 64 East 3rd Street on December 6, 1901, Goldenkranz was certain they were bombs.  The New York Press reported that while "picking his steps with extreme care," he took the unopened packages to the Fifth Street Police Station.  He gently placed them on the desk and whispered to Acting Captain Churchill, "Infernal machines! I received them this morning in the mail."

Churchill refused to accept them and said, "We'll go right around to court."  He also refused to carry them, directing Goldenkranz to do so.

In the courtroom, Magistrate Mott scoffed, "Afraid of them, are you?  Pooh!  I'll open them."

As the court attendants stared, Mott opened the first package.  "There was revealed a piece of gaspipe, four inches long.  From one end protruded matches," said the article.  The mob whispered, "A bomb!"

Mott opened the second package.  It contained another piece of lead pipe.  But, like the first, it had no powder and no fuse.  The dummy bombs were apparently sent to Goldenkranz simply to alarm him.

During the World War I years, the Hartwell family occupied 64 East 3rd Street.  Early on, Albert Sydney Hartwell volunteered to fight in the war because of his family's ties to France.  The New-York Tribune said, "His mother is French, and he went overseas long before the United States declared war."  The young man fought on the French front and "was twice wounded in both legs when his ambulance was hit by shells and was gassed once," said the newspaper.

On June 5, 1919, The New York Times reported that 4,000 troops had arrived at Hoboken on the transport ships Patricia and St. Louis.  "The most decorated man on the St. Louis was Private Albert Sydney Hartwell of 64 East Third Street, who wore on his breast the Distinguished Service Cross, the Medal Militaire, and the Croix de Guerre with four stars."  The article added, "He is 21 years old."

The estate of Anna Fronmuller sold 64 East 3rd Street in January 1922 to Dr. Joseph I. Singer.  The New-York Tribune noted that he "plans extensive alterations."

photograph by Carole Teller

By the late 1960s, the house had been converted to four cooperative apartments.  The Greek Revival ironwork was replaced with modern examples and the 1892 entrance decoration was removed.  The 1838 interior doorway remains reasonably intact.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post