William Jose's 1871 162 Stanton Street

photograph by Carole Teller

William Jose was born in Prussia around 1843 and was first listed as an architect in New York City directories in 1869.  In his short career he would design numerous buildings, mostly in the Bowery neighborhood, before his death in 1885.  In November 1870, he filed plans for a five-story "brick store and tenement" at 158 Stanton Street for developer G. Bohm.  That project quickly expanded with two more abutting buildings at Nos. 160 and 162.

The 25-foot-wide structures were completed in 1871.  Like its identical neighbors, 162 Stanton Street was faced in red brick above a cast iron storefront.  Jose's Italianate design included molded lintels above the elliptically arched windows.  The ambitious cast metal cornice lined with foliate brackets was upheld by elaborately scrolled corbels.  Delicate akroteria perched on its corners.  The arched pediment with its half-round panel was a trademark William Jose touch.  Similar pediments can be seen in his 1873 5 Spring Street and the Conrad Stein brewery building, completed in 1883.  

photograph by Carole Teller

Two stores flanked the residential entrance.  The initial occupants were Sigmund Blum's "segar" store and Adamina Kuyper's candy and soda shop.  (Adamina was the widow of Joseph Kuyper.)

Adamina Kuyper closed her store in 1876.  An auction of the contents gives a hint of her Victorian shop.  The auctioneer listed:

Contents of a Candy Store: counters and shelving, showcases, jars, tables, chairs, stoves &c; also one large marble Soda Water Fountain.

Frederick Hausmann purchased the lot and continued to operate the candy and soda shop.  By then, George Bergen was running the cigar store.  The tenants upstairs were, for the most part, working class.  Living here in 1876 were Christopher Bingenheimer, a barber; "spinner" John Harer; and the Hefner and Niglutsch families.  John Hefner did not list a profession in directories, possibly because he was retired.  Frederick Hefner, likely his son, was a clerk.  John C. Niglutsch was a physician and Anthony Niglutsch worked as a tailor.

Kate Stern left 162 Stanton Street on the morning of November 12, 1893.  She had not gotten far when two crooks grabbed her pocketbook and ran.  A policeman overtook them on Stanton Street.  The youthful perpetrators--Morris Wilbur was nine years old and Burnett Ernstein was eleven--were held at the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children until appearing before a magistrate in Essex Market Court.

Samuel Michaelson's tailor shop occupied one of the storefronts at the turn of the century.  On the night of November 9, 1900, the clothing store of Max Stumpf on Attorney Street was "ransacked," as worded by The New York Times.  The burglars essentially emptied the shop, taking "101 ladies' finished capes, 21 ladies' unfinished capes, 22 men's coats, 1 vest, 36 boys' caps, 10 flannel shirts, 1 roll chinchilla cloth, 1 roll black cloth, 1 roll brown cloth, 1 roll velvet cloth, 5 pieces trouserings, and 1 bag fur edging," according to Stumpf's detailed inventory.

Two days later, Max Stumpf rushed up to two police officers and excitedly said that he saw some of his goods in an express wagon.  The officers followed it to 139 Attorney Street where the driver delivered the goods to Harris Needle in a second floor room.  He and the driver, Samuel Pepper, were arrested.  At the station house they said that they were paid "to deliver the goods by Samuel Michaelson."  Michaelson was also subsequently arrested.  The New York Times reported, "He denied that he knew anything about the goods.  He also denied that he had ever seen Needle or Pepper."

The Rappaport family lived in a top floor apartment around the same time.  In the hot summer months, tenement dwellers often slept on the fire escapes.  On the night of August 23, 1901, Mrs. Rappaport put two of her children, Bessie and Israel, to bed on the fire escape.  Her six-year-old son, Samuel (known as Sammy), slept with her that night.  Samuel woke up around 6:00 the next morning and told his mother, "I'm going to wake Bessie."

The Evening World reported that the three children began playing on the fire escape and "Sammy climbed up a board leaning against the railing.  He lost his balance, tumbled over the railing and fell the entire six [sic] stories to the street."

When Bessie screamed, her mother rushed to the window.  Looking down, she saw Sammy "lying in a broken, lifeless heap on the pavement, far below, with two men over him."  Frantic, Mrs. Rappaport ran down to the street just as the boy was being carried into a drugstore.  "His back was broken and his skull crushed from striking against the iron rails as he fell," said the article.  Adding to the tragedy, the boy's plunge was witnessed by dozens of children.  "Most of them knew him and wept at the shocking death of their little playmate," said The Evening World.

John M. Robbins, who lived here in 1906, worked as a  "telegrapher."  On the night of August 26 that year, he sat down at a table in the restaurant in Pennsylvania Railroad terminal in Jersey City.  For whatever reason, the 55-year-old started a near panic.  The New York Herald reported, "a stifled scream from one of forty women dining in the restaurant" was heard at about 8:00.  "The cause of the scream was an elderly man calmly removing his underclothing," said the article, which added, "After one look the women concealed their faces behind fans and handkerchiefs."

A group of men surrounded Robbins and helped him get dressed.  The New York Herald said, "He was profuse in his apologies and was allowed to remain and finish his meal."  But only ten minutes later, he "cunningly removed his shoes and coat, and was divesting himself of his trousers when another woman raised an alarm."  This time two railroad detectives covered him with a tablecloth and escorted him to an anteroom where he was dressed and arrested.

In 1916, New York City suffered a terrifying epidemic--poliomyelitis.  More than 9,000 cases were reported in the city that year and more than 2,000 victims died.  On August 20, the New York Herald headlined an article, "Keep Children Out of City Is Warning."  In it, Dr. John S. Billings cautioned New Yorkers to keep their children at their country homes rather then returning to the city.  That was not an option for tenement families.  Listed among the hundreds of new cases in the article were Izzie and Abe Schivalatt of 162 Stanton Street.

The Hyman Richmond family lived here at the time.  They invited eight guests to a Shabbat meal on March 3.  The evening would not end well.  The New-York Tribune reported, "the eight guests fell from their chairs suffering from ptomaine poisoning, too ill to be moved to their homes."  An ambulance arrived and the victims "were all put to bed in corners of Richmond's apartment except Frank Ruhlau."  He was seriously ill and taken to Gouverneur Hospital.  Tragically, the next day the New-York Tribune reported, "The seven other guests were still under care of physicians at the scene of the kosher dinner, when news was brought to them early this morning that Ruhlau had died."

At the time of the tragedy, the stores were occupied by Louis Kravitz's clothing shop and Morris H. Schlesinger's hardware store.

On the evening of September 12, 1922, 70-year-old resident Henry Lawrence left 162 Stanton Street "to visit friends in Rivington Street," as reported by The Evening World three days later, adding, "He has not returned home."  That friend was Solomon Sternberg.  He told a reporter from the New York Herald that Lawrence had $200 when he left his apartment.  The Evening World was pointed, saying, "There is a suspicion of murder in the case of Henry Lawrence."  (Newspapers did not follow up with the story, so Lawrence's fate is unclear.)

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

On October 1, 1958, Nelson A. Rockefeller took his campaign for Governor to the Lower East Side.  He stopped into Jack Levy's Famous, a hot dog and pizza stand, chatted in Spanish to Puerto Rican locals, and shook hands and greeted pedestrians.  One of those was Mila Litbach, who lived at 162 Stanton Street.  The New York Times described her as "an elderly woman with a kerchief on her head."  Rockefeller greeted, "Hello!"

Unimpressed, Mila Litbach responded, "Can I put 'hello' in the bank?"

She told him she could not find a suitable apartment at a rent she could afford.  Rockefeller said "That is a very serious problem," and told her about a bond issue.  "If we can get that passed, it will help relieve the shortage of apartments for elderly people who live alone like you."

"I should live so long," said Mila Litbach with a shrug as she walked away.

The building was renovated in 1985, resulting in a total of 11 apartments.  In the alterations, the brick was painted and the storefront removed to accommodate apartments.  Surviving at the otherwise featureless ground floor are two narrow cast iron pilasters and a delicate rope detail around the entrance way.

photograph by Carole Teller

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

Buchman & Kahn's 1925 49 West 38th Street

 photograph by Carole Teller

By the post-World War I years, the millinery district had migrated northward to the neighborhood around Sixth Avenue in the 30s.  In 1923, Wolf Ramzon hired well-known architects Buchman & Kahn to design a 16-story "fireproof manufacturing building" at 49 through 53 West 38th Street.  Completed in 1925, construction cost Ramzon the equivalent of $8.2 million in 2026.

Buchman & Kahn started with a Renaissance Revival-style canvas and embellished it with elaborate terra cotta decorations.  Above the storefront, vast openings sat within metal inlay.  A series of closely placed, tall and narrow windows filled the second floor, and three side-by-side stylized Chicago windows engulfed the third.  All three lower floors sat within an intricate, Celtic inspired frame.

An intermediate cornice introduced the upper section.  Against a dragon scale background, the corbels took the form of whimsical faces.  The complex terra cotta decorations of the fourth floor included Celtic knots and plaques of fantastic animals and bearded faces.

The architects gave the corbels of the intermediate cornice delightful personalities.  photograph by Carole Teller

The upper floors were faced in beige brick.  The mid-section was defined by two six-story, faceted terra cotta columns.  An arcade with blind tympana distinguished the eleventh floor and multi-level cornices supported the upper section.

Expectedly, most of the original tenants were from the millinery industry.  Among them were the Beverly Hat Company, Inc., Trucikan Hat Company, Ideal Hat Co., the Rite-Hat Works, and I. Rosenberg & Co., Inc.  The Ideal Hat Co. had barely moved in before it was looking for an office worker.  An advertisement in The New York Times on September 16, 1925 read, "Young girl in advertising department of millinery manufacturer; typewriting experience essential."

In 1929, Trucikan Hat Company reorganized as Fairway Hat Company.  In doing so, it trimmed its staff, reducing the amount of hat blockers from eight to four.  The executives met with the on-site head of the union, named Mendelowitz, to decide which employees would be kept and whom would be fired.  In the meantime, the union members held their own meeting and drew straws.  The outcome did not mesh with the list Mendelowitz and management had come up with.  A stand-off resulted in a strike and an attempt to oust Mendelowitz by union members, who accused him of "a complicated maneuver and sell out," as reported by The Daily Worker on December 10, 1929.  

Extraordinarily intricate terra cotta decorates the facade.  photograph by Carole Teller

Two months later a strike against the Bobby Hood Company, Inc. turned violent.  On February 7, 1930, The New York Times reported, "Negro strikebreakers armed with lead pipes, shears and hammers engaged at 6 o'clock last night in a street brawl with pickets of the Millinery Workers' Union...who were marching in front of the Bobby Hood Company, Inc., at 49 West Thirty-eighth Street, where the strike-breakers were employed."  The article said that crowds heading to the subway were halted by the disturbance, "which soon became a free-for-all."  

It took police an hour to quell the riot that resulted in dozens suffering bruises and cuts.  Five persons were arrested on charges of felonious assault.  Somehow Samuel Goodkind, the owner of the Bobby Hood Company, had gotten involved.  The New York Evening Post reported that he was arrested for disorderly conduct.

photograph by Carole Teller

At the time of the affray, a delicatessen occupied the ground floor space.  On February 28, 1930, two armed men entered and subdued the manager, Ernest Roebke, who was bound and gagged.  The crooks stole $73 from the cash register and then jumped onto an uptown subway headed to to their next target, a deli on Columbus Avenue.  This time they were less successful.  A passerby noticed the hold-up and called police.  Patrolman Shallo and Farro arrived just as the thieves were leaving.  Ricardo Angeli warned them, "stand back or I'll plug you."  The New York Sun reported that the cops "paid no attention to his command and leaped toward him, Shallo felling the raider with a blow of his nightstick."  Angeli was arrested ("after treatment by an ambulance surgeon," according to the article), but his accomplice escaped.

The building continued to attract millinery firms during the Depression years.  The Moran Hat Company leased the 16th floor in 1932 and the Maecon Hat Company was here as early as 1937.  But textile and apparel firms were appearing, as well.  The Modern Miltex Company was here in 1944, for instance, when it advertised, "Hand Crocheters.  Good pay, full or part time."

Among the tenants in the 1960s were Don Sophisticates, Inc., Merchants Importing, Inc. and Sheru, dealers in beads.  At the time, the country was experiencing The Age of Aquarius, marked by hippies, free love, and anti-war protests--and beads.  For a century, bead companies catered to apparel and millinery firms.  Now Sheru was a popular destination for individual customers.  Writing in The New York Times on August 31, 1975, Judmi Glassman listed a few of their uses: "making belts, headbands, window hangings, room dividers and purses."  She informed readers that "larger beads are sold by the dozen, en masse (about 1,000 beads) or individually" at Sheru.

Decades later, on August 13, 1993, The New York Times reported that Steve Sherwin, a partner in Sheru, had exhumed cartons "stored since the 1960s" and "started selling off the cache."  The article said, "Among the store's 3,000 kinds of beads are red cherries, crimson strawberries and purple grapes made of glass."

photograph by Carole Teller

The ground floor space where Ernest Roebke was bound and gagged in 1930 became the Dineen Nealy showroom around 2002.  It featured furniture designed by architects Craig Nealy and Joan Dineen.  More recently, Pink of Manhattan, a nail salon, moved into the space.  Although the storefront has been modernized, Buchman & Kahn's striking structure is almost untouched a century after its opening.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

The 1924 J. Henry Lancashire Mansion - 11 East 69th Street

 

image via friends-ues.org

Banker Jefferson Seligman and his wife, the former Julia Wormser, occupied a townhouse at 11 East 69th Street and a country home in Deal, New Jersey in the first years of the 20th century.  The couple shocked society in 1915 when Julia filed for divorce, her attorneys asserting, "her husband left her on May 31, 1913, and has never returned."  Julia retained possession of the homes in the divorce.  She died in the New Jersey residence on March 28, 1921, leaving an estate equal to more than $18 million in 2026.

When the East 69th Street property became available in December 1922, Edwin C. Jameson, who lived next door at 9 East 69th Street, purchased it "to protect his own home," according to The New York Times.  He resold it in February 1923 to James Henry Lancashire and his wife, the former Sarah Hale Wright.  The New York Times reported that they "will remove the present structure entirely and build a new fire-proof house for [their] own occupation from designs by Delano & Aldrich."  The article added, "This promises to be one of the most attractive modern residences on Lenox Hill."

Construction of the 32-foot-wide mansion was completed in 1924 at a cost of $200,000 (about $3.8 million today).  Faced in limestone, its sedate neo-French Classic design included a rusticated base where the double-doored entrance sat within an understated, molded frame.  At the second floor, or piano nobile, were floor-to-ceiling windows, the central of which was fronted by an iron balcony and capped with a triangular pediment.  The sixth floor sat discretely behind a stone parapet topped with Classical stone urns.  The New York Times remarked, "It is provided with two elevators and there is an attractive rear garden."

The Seligmans' house was a near match to No. 13, at the right.  photograph b y Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

Dr. James Henry Lancashire (who went by his first initial professionally), was born in Ontario, Canada on August 22, 1858.  Sarah Wright was born in Vermont on February 8, 1861 and the couple were married on October 4, 1883 in Saratoga Springs, New York.  They had three daughters: Harriet Wright, Helen and Lila.  (The others had died in childhood.)

Only Lila would live in the mansion.  Harriet had married Edward Lawrence White in 1911, and Helen, who married Vincent Umberto Coletti-Perucca in 1916, lived in Italy.  

The Lancashires filled the mansion with costly antiques and artwork.  The New York Times would later comment that Sarah's "collection of seventeenth and eighteen century English furniture" included "twelve William and Mary carved walnut tall-back side chairs."  They were executed by Daniel Marot in 1695.  Other items within the residence were a Chinese Chippendale mahogany card table and a Sheraton mahogany dining table.

This portrait of Sarah Lancashire was painted by Ignaz Marcel Gaugengigl in 1910.  from the collection of the Museum of Fine Arts Boston

The family's country home, Graftonwood, was in Manchester, Massachusetts.  On June 12, 1925, The New York Times reported that Lancashire "and his daughter, Miss Lila Lancashire, have closed their home at 11 East Sixty-ninth Street and have gone to their Summer home at Manchester-by-the Sea."  The article explained, "Mrs. Lancashire, who is visiting her daughter, Mme. Colette-Perucca, in Florence Italy, is expected to return early in July."  In fact, Sarah was accompanied by Helen upon her return.  On July 2, The Saratogian reported, "Mrs. J. Henry Lancashire...and her daughter, Mme. Umberto Coletti-Perucca, arrived from Europe on the Giulio Cesare and are at the Ritz-Carlton.  They are leaving on Friday for Graftonwood."

On January 11, 1927, The New York Times reported that the Lancashires had announced Lila's engagement to Chicago banker Richard Southgate, noting, "Miss Lancashire attended the Spence School, and is a member of the Junior League and a director of the Navy Club."

Lila's marriage took place in the Church of the Resurrection on June 1, 1927.  The New York Times explained, "Relatives and a few close friends only have been asked to the ceremony owing to the limited capacity of the church, but the invitations to the reception at the home of the bride's parents, 11 East Sixty-ninth Street, are more general."  The next evening, the Lancashirers hosted a dinner and dance at the Park Lane for the wedding party.

Now empty nesters, Lancashires continued to appear in the society columns.  On January 31, 1928, for instance, The New York Times announced, "Dr. and Mrs. J. Henry Lancashire of 11 East Sixty-ninth Street, with a party of friends, will leave to day for Nassau, later going to Palm Beach for the remainder of the Winter."

On April 21, 1931, the newspaper reported that the Lancashires had sold 11 East 69th Street to Mrs. Barend van Gerbig for "very close" to the asking price of $400,000 (about $8.5 million today).  

Mrs. Barend van Gerbig was the former Edith Olcott.  Her husband was born in the Netherlands in 1868 and arrived in American in 1890.  Educated at the University of Leyden, Barend van Gerbig was an investment broker and musician.  He was 32 years old when he and Edith were married on May 25, 1900.  The couple had a son, Howell.  (Their first son, Dudley, died in 1915.)  The family's country home was in New Canaan, Connecticut.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Edith Olcott van Gerbig began collecting Early American glass at the age of 13.  Displayed in the East 69th Street mansion was her collection of nearly 3,000 pieces.  She was recognized nationally as "an assiduous collector as well as a knowledgeable scholar of American glass," according to the Worcester Telegram.

Edith Olcott van Gerbig died at the age of 83 in the New Canaan residence on July 15, 1953.  Barend died there on December 3, 1957.  Three months earlier, he had donated Edith's entire glass collection to the Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art in Hartford, Connecticut.  He, additionally, donated a $250,000 endowment "for the construction of an 'Edith Olcott van Gerbig Memorial Gallery of Glass' within the contemplated alterations of the Wadsworth Atheneum buildings," reported The Morning Union on September 1, 1957.

No. 11 East 69th Street became headquarters for the American Friends of the Hebrew University.  It was the scene of an exciting announcement on October 31, 1961.  Here Yigael Yadin, Professor of Archaeology at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, announced the discovery of "First-century documents found in remote caves along the western shore of the Dead Sea."  He described their finding "as the most important discovery of the period next to the Dead Sea Scrolls."

Two years later, the American Friends of the Hebrew University presented its Woman of the Year Award to Golda Meir, Foreign Minister of Israel.  The large attendance at the luncheon made holding it in the former mansion impossible.  The award was presented to Mrs. Meir at the New York Hilton.

A poignant event took place here on March 11, 1976.  The New York Times reported, "The memory of the 11 Israelis murdered during the 1972 Olympics at Munich was revived...with the establishment of the first memorial to the athletes."  The memorial took the form of scholarships to the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. 

In 2004, real-estate operator David Levinson purchased 11 East 69th Street from the American Friends of the Hebrew University for $9.5 million.  According to The Real Deal, he spent $20 million in renovations to return it to a private mansion, with "six bedrooms, ten bathrooms, and a rooftop solarium."

image via streeteasy.com

Levinson sold the residence in June 2021 for $53.5 million.  The exterior is sheathed with scaffolding and netting at the time of this writing.

photographs by the author

Schwartz & Gross's 1929 175 East 79th Street

 

On April 3, 1928, the architectural firm of Schwartz & Gross filed plans for "a fifteen-story and pent-house apartment building" at 171 through 175 East 79th Street.  The New York Sun reported, "The building will have four apartments on each floor in three-room and bath and six-room and three-bath suites."  The New York Times added that the structure would be erected by the Tishman Realty and Construction Company, Inc.

Construction was completed in 1929 at a cost of $480,000--or about $9 million in 2026 terms.  Faced in rough-faced brick, the neo-Renaissance-style structure was trimmed in brownstone and terra cotta.  The entrance and the pilasters of the paired third-floor windows were decorated with intricate Renaissance-style designs.  The first- and second-floor openings were framed by brownstone quoins (painted white today).  Schwartz & Gross's treatment of the first floor voussoirs was highly unusual--alternating from brick to brownstone.

The edifice rose as a sheer cliff, relieved by terra cotta bandcourses; those below the fourth and sixteenth floors supported by arched, brick corbel tables.  Vast multi-paned casements flooded the apartments with natural light.

At least one critic had a slight problem with the new building.  On March 9, 1929, Marcia Clarke Davenport wrote in The New Yorker:

The Tishman organization, whose architects are Schwartz & Gross, has put up a good building at 175 East Seventy-ninth Street. It includes all the features I have always admired in this company’s work, but—every bedroom in the house must be reached through a living-room or a dining-room. That there has been a pardonable desire to save space is obvious; nevertheless, the result is unfortunate. This isn’t a hotel or a pied-a-terre sort of place; it’s a house people are meant to live in, as is proved by the excellent kitchens and pantries, comfortable dining-rooms, the ample baths and closets, the wood-burning fireplaces, the maids’ rooms and baths, and the well-handled ventilation and lighting.

Among the initial tenants were Charles H. Adams and his wife, the former Harriet Beachman.  The couple had an adult son, Charles Jr.  Harriet escaped the cold of their first winter here by traveling to Florida with friends, Edward E. Wright and his wife.  They headed home, leaving Florida on March 2, 1930 in the Wright's touring car, which was driven by their chauffeur.  About 16 miles south of Lyons, Georgia, B. Collins attempted to go around a parked Standard Oil Company truck.  He drove head-on into the Wright's vehicle "with a terrific impact," according to The International Blue Printer.  Beatrice and Mrs. Wright were killed.

On October 26, 1930, Alfred N. Wheeler Jr. signed a lease "for a long term of years," as reported by the New York Evening Post.  He was the son of prominent Connecticut jurist Alfred N. Wheeler.  And he had a very good reason to be looking for a new apartment.  

Five days later, The New York Times reported, "Miss Romaine Bristow...will be married to Alfred N. Wheeler Jr., of this city, son of Alfred N. Wheeler of New Haven, Conn., on Nov. 25 in the Church of the Resurrection."  Romaine was well-known in society.  The newspaper noted that she was the granddaughter of Columbus C. Baldwin, "who was identified for many years with New York and Newport [society]."

The ceremony was covered by society columns in newspapers in several states.  On October 31, the New York Evening Post noted, "Mr. Wheeler and his bride will live at 175 East Seventy-ninth Street when they return from their wedding trip."

Alfred Wheeler wore tails and silk top hat to his wedding.  The New York Times, November 26, 1930

Morton E. Van Raalte and his wife, the former Marion Rau, also signed a lease in 1930.  Born in 1898, Van Raalte was the son of wealthy manufacturer Emanuel Van Raalte and a 1920 graduate of Columbia College.  When they moved into 175 East 79th Street, he was affiliated with his father's firm, the Van Raalte Company.

Shortly after the couple moved in, Emanuel Van Raalte died, leaving an estate of $1,355,674, according to The New York Times.  The figure would translate about $26 million today.  The newspaper said that the bulk of the estate would be divided equally among Morton and his three siblings.  Morton and Marion Van Raalte's country home was in Lawrence, Long Island.

Already living here were Rene de Albornoz Carrillo and his son Rene Jr.  Carrillo was, according to The New York Times, a "member of an old Spanish family."  Twice married and twice divorced, the elder Carrillo was the head of the importing and interior decorating firm, R. Carrillo & Co., Inc.  His daughter was married in 1924, and Rene Jr. graduated from Princeton University in 1930 and joined his father's business.

The 55-year-old Carrillo suffered from "high-blood pressure and a nervous disorder," according to the New York Evening Post.  On the evening of December 9, 1931 the father and son played cards.  During the game, the elder Carrillo "discussed business affairs with his son," reported The New York Times, and mentioned that he wanted to bring an acquaintance into the business.  He told his son that he wanted to make his vision of the company clear, "in case I die."

The next morning, Rene Jr. arose at around 9:00.  He found his father, "dressed only in his pajamas...slumped down in a chair in his bedroom with a bullet wound in the right temple."

A note left on the bureau read:

Dear Rene:

I hate to do this, but I cannot stand this strain any longer.  Would put N. W. in the business and carry out our plan of yesterday.  Tell him to remember the letter I spoke to him about.  It's in the safe.  Good-bye to you and all that I care for.  It's hard to leave you all.

                                                            Love, Father

On 16, October 1936, The New York Times reported, "Don Ross and his wife, Jane Froman, both of stage and screen, have leased a penthouse at 175 East Seventy-ninth Street."  Born in 1907, Jane Froman studied voice at the Cincinnati Conservatory of Music until 1930.  She made her national debut on radio in 1929, the year she met vaudeville performer Donald McKaig Ross.  They were married in 1933 and moved to New York City that year.

Don Ross and Jane Froman in the early 1940s.  from the collection of the Jane Froman Papers

Jane joined the Ziegfeld Follies where she became friends with Fannie Brice.  Reportedly, when composer and producer Billy Rose was asked to name the top ten female singers, he replied, "Jane Froman and nine others."  By 1934, Jane was the "number-one female singer on the radio," according to a nationwide poll.

When the couple moved in, Jane had completed two films, the 1933 Kissing Time and the 1935 Stars Over Broadway.  They established their own radio program in July 1937.

Unfortunately, while Froman's career soared, Ross's did not.  They were divorced in 1948, five years after Froman was severely injured in an airplane crash on February 22, 1943 as she was traveling to entertain troops.

Resident Lewis Osborn was described by The New York Times as a "well-known bridge player and Wall Street customers' man."  He and his wife, the former Florence Fitch, were married in 1933 and occupied a three-room apartment on the eighth floor in 1939.  Florence was equally involved in bridge.  She wrote newspaper and magazine articles on the game and the two operated bridge clubs in New London, Connecticut.

Born in 1907, Osborn worked for the brokerage firm of Francis I. du Pont & Co.  He was scheduled to play in the Eastern bridge championships starting on February 19, 1939, but he asked a fellow player to find a substitute for him.  He said that business "would prevent his participating."

But in fact, Osborn was having domestic problems.  Florence had left their apartment on February 16 and had not come home.  At 4:00 on the morning of February 22, a neighbor complained about the odor of gas.  The handyman, James Findlay, discovered a small leak on the ninth floor, and repaired it.  A much larger problem, however, was in the Osborn apartment.

At 9:05, Findlay broke into the Osborn apartment to find the kitchen filled with gas fumes.  Unthinking, he flicked on the light switch and the spark caused an explosion "that shattered the kitchen window, smashed the dishes and rocked the other rooms in the apartment," reported The New York Times.  Findlay was knocked to the floor, but was otherwise uninjured.

Lewis Osborn's body was on the kitchen floor.  The New York Times reported that he had "turned on all of the five jets of the kitchen range and sealed the room with adhesive tape."  He left two notes: one that gave funeral directions, the other addressed to Florence.  That one said he was "taking this way out" so she could have her freedom.

Close inspection of the carved entrance reveals a Jazz Age take on Renaissance designs.  Here a very 1920s nymph hides in twining vines.

Pincus and Anne Berner occupied an apartment here by the outbreak of World War II.  Born in 1899, Berner was a member of the law firm of Ernst, Can, Berner & Gitlin, whose clients were mostly from the entertainment and literary fields.  Pincus Berner was the personal attorney to the likes of Sinclair Lewis, Ayn Rand, Christopher Morley, Thomas Wolfe, William Saroyan, and Harold Robbins.  He was the co-executor of Thomas Wolfe's estate.

The population of the Berner apartment was temporarily increased by one during World War II.  A program evacuated children from bomb ravaged Britain and placed them into American homes.  The Berners took in Robert Gilders.  As Christmas neared in 1945, a British-American broadcast reunited some of the youths and their American foster families.  Robert Gilders, now a teen, lamented that he had been unsuccessful in converting his friends to baseball.  "It's no use," he said.

In 1960, Edgar I. Levy and Howard W. Woolf purchased 175 East 79th Street.  They quickly resold it to their tenants, who had formed the 175 East Seventy-ninth Tenants Corporation.  On November 11, 1960, The New York Times reported that the association "plans to remodel the house and operate it as a cooperative," noting, "It has fifty-six apartments and two penthouse suites."

Among the first owners were the Francesco A. Zara family.  Born in 1889, Zara, an associate vice president with the National City Bank of New York, married Mildred Gautier Rice on November 19, 1953.  Their country home was in Southampton, Long Island.  

On Saturday night, September 8, 1962, the Zaras had either returned to Manhattan for the winter season or were out.  In either case, The New York Times reported that while the two maids were sleeping, burglars entered the Southampton residence and "ransacked the house."  The thieves slinked away with jewelry worth the equivalent of $638,000 today.

Well-known television actress Melba Rae and her husband Gilbert Shawn, lived here following the conversion.  Shawn had been in radio and he helped get Melba her role in the Broadway play Janie.  She was, by now, known nationwide as Marge Bergman on the soap opera Search for Tomorrow.  Melba Rae died of a cerebral hemorrhage in December 1971 at the age of 49.

Gilbert Shawn and Melba Rae.  (original source unknown)

Resident Kenneth Gallant, a bachelor, occupied a 15th-floor apartment in the early 1970s.  When his friends could not contact him for several days in late December 1974, they went to his apartment on New Year's Day 1975.  When they got no answer, they asked the superintendent to check his apartment.  What Harold Beland discovered was horrific.  

The New York Times reported that he found Gallant's nude body in the bedroom "with an electrical cord around his neck."  Police said there were no signs of a break-in or robbery, adding, "the cause of death appeared to be strangulation."

It was possibly during the facade renovation in 2015 that the stonework of the first and second floors was painted.  Sadly, the coop board did not step in when several owners replaced the 1928 casements, so vital to Schwartz & Gross's design, with myriad, unsympathetic substitutes.  (Snap-in muntins would have given the appearance of the original casements.)

photographs by the author

The 1928 Belvoir - 470 West End Avenue

 

Known for its lavish private homes in the late 19th century, West End Avenue would, instead, be lined by high-end apartment buildings before the 1930s.  In 1927, the newly formed 470 West End Avenue Corporation demolished the seven houses at the southeast corner of West End Avenue and West 83rd Street and hired architect George F. Pelham to design a 15-story apartment building on the site.

Construction, which was completed in 1928, cost the equivalent of $28.2 million in 2026.  Pelham faced his tripartite, Renaissance Revival design in sandy-colored brick.  Stone quoins and cast stone panels of swags and cartouches decorated the two-story base.  The entrance sat within a handsome, double-height frame that terminated in a broken pediment and urn.

Faux Venetian-style balconies at the eighth and fourteenth floors relieved the otherwise unembellished mid- and top sections.  Rather than a parapet, Pelham capped the brick cornice with brick piers connected with iron railings.

The building filled with a variety of well-to-do residents.  Among the first were Louis W. Herman and his wife, Hortense; orchestra leader Eddie Elkins; and printing executive John L. Schoenfeld.

Born in 1897, violinist Eddie Elkins was the leader of the 10-piece Knickerbocker Grill Orchestra.  He and his jazz band made several dance records.  On December 10, 1929, they were at the Manhattan Studios on Park Avenue and 134th Street where they were to be part of a scene in the motion picture The Black and White Review.  A fire broke out and a disaster reminiscent of the Triangle Shirtwaist blaze followed.  A sub-headline in The Evening Post read, "Actors Killed In Jam At Exit...100 Caught in Flaming 2-Story Brick Building Used to Make Sound Pictures."

Violinist and orchestra leader Eddie Elkins (original source unknown)

A sub-headline in The Staten Island Advance read: "Girls in Blazing Ballet Dresses Leap to Death from Upper Windows." 

Eddie Elkins survived and was interviewed by The Evening Post in his apartment that evening.  He told the reporter that, "a slight crackling sound behind a pile of scenery first made him think something might be amiss.  When he stepped around the obstacle, a heavy drapery was blazing furiously and while he looked, the flames leaped to the rafters of the studio."

Elkins shouted an alarm toward the dressing rooms, but many of the performers thought he was calling them to the stage and finished their costuming.  Elkins ran up the stairs "for the $1,000 violin he had left in his quarters," recounted the article.  He grabbed it, leaving behind his bow, valued at $100.  In rescuing the instrument, he suffered "burns about the body."  In the end, 10 persons lost their lives and 20 were injured.

Louis W. Herman was a "registered stock specialist," as described by The New York Times.  He and Hortense escaped the Manhattan winter in 1930 by going to Palm Beach, Florida.  On February 26, thieves broke into their suite in the Ambassador Hotel.  Part of an underworld gang involved in burglaries, murder and counterfeiting, they escaped with $40,000 in Hortense's jewelry (about $771,000 today).  

Three months later, on May 28, The Sun ran the headline: "Gem Band Linked To Murder; Million In Bad Money Seized."  New York detectives had raided a hotel room, arrested the men, and seized "$300,000 in jewelry," according to the article.  Possible victims were contacted and The Sun reported, "Mrs. L. W. Herman of 470 West End avenue came in her limousine to Police Headquarters, where a dazzling array of jewels...is laid in a strong guarded room for inspection."  Hortense identified 11 of the 27 pieces.

Terra cotta frames pretend to be Venetian balconies.

The Hermans' wealth was reflected the following year when Louis protested his taxes.  On December 15, 1931, The New York Times reported, "An income tax refund of $42,500 for the year 1919 has been awarded to Louis W. Herman of New York as a result of a Federal court decision."  Herman's rebate would equal just under $900,000 today.

Other residents in the 1930s included Max Greenberg, president of the Paramount Hotel Corporation; Herman Kushner, president of the Luckey Style Dress Corp.; Frank Margulies; and Joseph and Bertha Bulova.  

Joseph Bulova was born in 1851 in a village near Prague, Czechoslovakia.  As a boy, he was apprenticed to a jeweler and in 1869, as an 18-year-old, he immigrated to New York City "with fifty cents," according to family lore.  He eventually established a jewelry store on Maiden Lane.  The shop developed into the massive Bulova Watch Company.  By the 1930s, the firm had factories in Queens, Rhode Island, Massachusetts and Switzerland.

Joseph Bulova (original source unknown)

Bulova took an active part in the business until August 1935, when he fell ill.  He died in his apartment on November 18 at the age of 84.

Frank Margulies was born in 1898 and started out as a featherweight prize fighter under the name of Frankie Brown.  He fought in the ring until 1918.  By the time he moved into 470 West End Avenue, he was "the shakedown man" for "an extortion ring run by Broadway racketeers," according to The New York Evening Post in 1931.  On November 24 that year, he was arrested and held "in $10,000 bail for a hearing December 1," as reported by The New York Evening Post.

Four victims of the mob had bravely agreed to testify against him.  At the time of the arrest, they were being guarded by detectives.  One of the victims, Alexander A. Rapport, reported that Margulies had come to his office to collect $2,000 in "protection."  Margulies told him, "Unless you kick in, your body will be found in the Hudson.  We've got the police on our pay roll."  Rapport told detectives that Margulies pulled out a knife and "remarked that he usually cut up persons who refused to contribute."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

John L. Schoenfeld and his family were still living in 470 West End Avenue in May 1934 when he was appointed a member of the State Commission of Corrections.  In reporting on the appointment, The New York Sun remarked that the 51-year-old "is a close friend of Warden Lewis E. Laws of Sing Sing and is a life member of the American prison Association and a member of the League to Abolish Capital Punishment."

In the early 1960s, the FBI began collection information on writer and activist James Baldwin.  The bureau was not concerned about his brilliant novels, of course, but with his activism within the civil rights movement.  He took part in the 1963 March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom and in the voting rights march from Selma to Montgomery in 1965.  FBI agents tracked him down to 470 West End Avenue in 1963.  His extensive file at the Federal Bureau of Investigation included the notations:

On December 10, 1963, [redacted] Security Supervisor, New York Telephone Company, New York City, advised that JAMES BALDWIN resides in Apartment 6A, at 470 West End Avenue, New York City, and has unlisted telephone number TA 7-7773.

On December 10, 1963 [redacted] 470 West End Avenue, New York City, advised that the subject has resided in Apartment 6A at that address for the past three months.

In 1965, Baldwin's extended family purchased the house-turned-apartments at 137 West 71st Street.  He moved into an apartment in that building.  He was still living there where he died in France on December 1, 1987.

In 1970, the building, now known as The Belvoir, was converted into a cooperative.  Often misattributed as being the work of Emery Roth, the exterior of George F. Pelham's reserved Italian Renaissance Revival style building is nearly unchanged in nearly a century.  

photographs by the author

The Lost Hermann Gehnrich House - 444 East 89th Street

The vintage house with its polychromed details had survived intact in 1932.  A section of the cornice was lost when the apartment building to the right was constructed.   from the collection of the New York Public Library

After the New York and Harlem Railroad was extended along Fourth Avenue in the 1830's, a hamlet grew up around the 86th Street station.   In the 1850's an influx of German and Irish immigrants settled in the village, many of them hired to build the Croton Aqueduct.  At some point around the time of the Civil War, it became known as Yorkville.  Eventually Yorkville would rival, then overtake the Lower East Side as the center of the German immigrant community.

A flurry of construction followed the end of the Civil War.  In the early years of the 1870s, wooden houses--two and three stories tall with high basements--were erected along both sides of East 89th Street between York and First Avenues.  Among them was 444 East 89th Street, home to William H. and Sara A. Mott.  Like the others along the block, it was faced in clapboard.  The paneled wooden fence posts mimicked the newels of the stoop railings.  Floor-to-ceiling parlor windows opened onto an ample porch, where the Motts would have found relief from warm evenings.  The architect-builder embellished the upper openings with handsome molded lintels with carved ornaments.  The deeply overhanging cornice was upheld by thin, scrolled corbels with hanging finials.

In May 1880, William and Sara Mott sold 444 East 89th Street to Anne M. Donnell.  She rented space in the house to families, one per floor.  Anne advertised it for sale in the New York Herald on March 25, 1891:

Fine Private House, Garden, full lot; all improvements on each floor; 15 large rooms; arranged for three families; $10,500.

The "improvements" would most likely have included indoor plumbing.  The price Anne Donnell asked would translate to about $383,000 in 2026.  It was purchased by Rudolph Ladensack, who resold it on June 6, 1892 to Hermann and Magdalena Schaefer Gehnrich.

Born in Germany, the couple had three sons, William T., Herman John, and Charles L.  The brothers pursued very different career paths.  

William turned to metalwork and on April 8, 1899, The Metal Worker listed him among the students enrolled in the evening class of Sheet Metal and Cornice Work at the New York Trade School.  It is possible that he commuted from Yorkville to the school at 67th Street and First Avenue by bicycle.  Four years before that article, William had signed a petition to the Board of Alderman, urging a "bicycle path between the upper and lower parts of the city."

Herman John Gehnrich was also an ardent bicyclist.  On August 7, 1900, The New York Times reported on the upcoming "open moonlight and double century run" by the New York State Division of the Century Road Club of America, an organization for bicycle enthusiasts.  "Entries for this run can be sent to the Secretary, H. J. Gehnrich, 444 East Eighty-ninth Street."

Charles L. Gehnrich was involved in charity work for the state.  As early as 1902, he worked as a clerk in the Department of Inspection of the State Board of Charities.  The 1904 Annual Report of the State Board of Charities explained, "This department has charge of the visitation and inspection of all institutions, societies or associations which are of a charitable, eleemosynary, correctional or reformatory character."

In the meantime, Herman John Gehnrich died on December 29, 1900 at the age of 21.  His parents did not disclose any funeral arrangements to the public.

from the collection of the New York Public Library

William brought his bride, Minnie, to live at 444 East 89th Street.  In 1906, they had two twin boys, Charlie and Willie.  The family suffered unspeakable grief on March 24, 1908.  The Inquirer reported, "locked in each other's arms, twin babies this afternoon plunged headlong from the second-story window to the yard in the rear of their home, at 444 East Eighty-ninth street."  The article said that Minnie, "having household duties to attend to, had locked the guards on the rear second-story window of her home, leaving the twins, Charlie and Willie, barely two years old, playing in the room."

The New York Times reported that Minnie entered the room "just as they toppled from the window, and she ran screaming downstairs into the yard.  Policeman Lederman found her holding the unconscious infants in her arms and weeping over them."  The boys had landed on the pavement in the rear yard, fracturing their skulls.  

According to The Evening World, "The father of the twins, William Gehnrich, came from the sheet-iron factory where he works, in East Ninety-second street, and took the mother to the hospital.  She was frantic with grief."  The New York Times noted, "There is no hope that the twins will live."

Minnie Gehnrich's anguish was increased when her husband, perhaps overcome with grief, died four days later.  Once again, The New York Times remarked only, "funeral private."  

Hermann and Magdalena moved to Brooklyn by 1917.  Hermann died on February 18, 1920 and Magdalena on July 14, 1922.

George Repp and Carl Wetzler leased the basement level of 444 East 89th Street for the offices of Repp & Wetzler, "baker oven builders."  An advertisement in The Retail Baker in October 1917 touted, "repairing of all patent and American ovens our specialty."  Rooms were rented in the upper floors.  Among the tenants here in 1923 was 21-year-old John Gick, arrested for operating a vehicle while intoxicated on October 9 that year.

When 444 East 89th Street was sold to Michael Demetroules and George Hadjinanos in September 1926, The New York Times described it as "a four-story flat."  The article said, "The purchasers contemplate extensive renovations."

The quaint wooden building was remodeled.  The porch was removed and a Colonial-style entrance installed slightly below grade.  The architect modernized the vintage elements by streamlining the window frames and reducing the cornice corbels.

mage via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

A renovation completed in 1945 resulted in one apartment per floor.  By then, 444 East 89th Street was the last remnant of the 1870s block.  The end finally came in the early 1970s when the house and the properties to the corner of York Avenue were demolished for a 33-floor apartment building, completed in 1974.

image via compass.com