The 1883 236 East Sixth Street

photograph by Carole Teller

On January 5, 1882, Joseph Schwarzschild and Ferdinand Sulzberger sold the four "five-story stone front tenements" at 230 to 236 East Sixth Street to architects and builders William P. and Ambrose M. Parsons for $48,500 (about $1.48 million in 2026 terms).  The brothers replaced the buildings with four identical structures.  Completed within the year, they were faced in brownstone.  Their neo-Grec design included centered entrances above short stoops.  The windows sat within prominent architraves upheld by scrolled brackets and their molded cornices sat upon corbeled piers.  Cast metal cornices, more in keeping with the earlier Italianate style, crowned the buildings.  The Parsons brothers sold the completed row on November 29, 1882.

Like the others in the row, 236 East Sixth Street was a "double flat," meaning there were two apartments per floor--one each on either side of the centered hallway.  They became home to a variety of tenants.  Living here in 1895 was William Bader, who worked for the city as "assistant to deputy sheriff."  He earned $1,000 a year, or about $40,000 today.  And Dr. Leopold Hibbe and his wife, Anna, and their child lived here as early as 1897.  Sharing the apartment was Leopold's brother, Dr. Henry Hibbe, and their widowed mother.

Leopold Hibbe was born in 1866 and graduated from the Medical Department of the University of the City of New York (where he had been an athlete) in 1891.  On the morning of March 2, 1897, he sat at his desk writing.  The New York Journal reported that he "struck a match to light his pipe."  It broke and the burning portion fell into a waste basket filled with papers.  Hibbe panicked and, rather than rushing the flaming basket into the street, he ran outside to get help.  The New York Journal said that in doing so, he forgot that his little child was asleep on the sofa in the room.  The article continued, "When he remembered it he could not get back."  Happily, Patrolman Wichman courageously rushed into the flaming room and rescued the child.

Dr. Hibbe had his wits together seven months later.  On October 25, 1897, The New York Times said reported that the Hibbe apartment "served as the theatre for a scene in which a night marauder and a physician were the chief actors, and which had a ludicrous as well as a dangerous side."  In the middle of the night, Hibbe awakened to footsteps in the hall.  He discovered an intruder shoving "a few odds and ends into his trousers pockets."  The article said that Dr. Hibbe "caught the man he had been following unceremoniously by the throat and threw him to the floor."  The "rough-and-tumble scuffle" aroused Henry Hibbe who entered the affray.  Finally two policemen arrived and took into custody the "submissive and badly battered prisoner."

Within five years, the extended Hibbe family had moved to 23 Stuyvesant Street.  (There the two physicians were arrested, charged with performing an abortion.)  Another doctor, Albert S. Gombar moved into 236 East Sixth Street in 1909.

In the meantime, John Graham and his wife occupied an apartment at the turn of the century.  The 25-year-old was waiting for an elevated train at Second Avenue and 23rd Street on the afternoon of February 11, 1900 when he tumbled down the two-story tall staircase to the pavement below.  A witness said, "He was a laboring man, evidently, as he wore overalls and jumper, and his hands were soiled and calloused."

A doctor was summoned.  Before he arrived, two priests happened by and noticed the growing crowed.  One of them noticed "a little brown ribbon which came just over the edge of the injured man's shirt," reported The New York Times.  "He's a Catholic, Father," said the priest to his companion.  "See, he wears a scapular."  The priests knelt beside Graham, who was unconscious.  "The crowd fell back reverently, the Catholic ones uncovering and joining silently in prayer," said the article.

Dr. Graham Roberts transported John Graham to a hospital.  He told reporters that the young man's skull was fractured.  Tragically, he was given little hope of surviving.  Graham, who had just a nickel in his pocket, had not been drinking.  Doctors opined "that when near the top of the stairs he was attacked by heart disease and fell."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Minnie Wagner lived here in 1911.  She worked as a sewing machine operator on the eighth floor in the Triangle Waist Company at 23-29 Washington Place.  On Saturday morning, March 11, that year, she went to work as always.  The day would end tragically, however.  At around 4:45, just 15 minutes before the workday ended, fire broke out.  Minnie testified later:

[I] was near my machine when I heard the cry of "Fire!"  I rushed to the Washington Place door, and there saw Eva Harris...and she rushed by me and shouted to me, "My, God, the door is locked!"  After that I saw Louis Brown, who was wiping his hand, drop the towel and come to where we were standing, and, he said, "Wait a minute, girls, and don't get excited.  I will open the door for you."  He reached in his pocket and took out a key and turned the lock.  The door would not open, and he smashed another lock.  It then opened and we went out.

Minnie Wagner was one of the fortunate women in the building that day.  Trapped inside on two floors, 146 female workers perished, having either jumped to their deaths or burned. 

Emily Davisson was convalescing from an operation on April 26, 1915, and her 21-year-old son, Benjamin, was suffering from pneumonia.  They occupied a fifth-floor apartment.  Both were in their beds that day and were unaware of "the shout of fire which drove the other ten families from the building," according to the New-York Tribune.  Someone ran to a fire alarm box, but it was stuck.  The newspaper said that Ladder Company 3 was "late in responding to the blaze because the alarm box refused to open until after a fire-minute struggle."

It was only when smoke and flames entered their apartment did Emily and Benjamin Davisson realize they were in danger.  Policeman Healy saw the panicked pair as they clung to their windowsill.  "They intended to jump," said the article, but Healy "warned them to stay where they were."  Minutes later, fire fighters arrived.  A ladder was raised and the Davissons were rescued.  The newspaper said that the damage to the building was estimated at about $331,000 in today's money.

At least two more physicians would live and work here.  Dr. Michael Shander was listed at the address in 1916, and Dr. William Steinhauser was here in 1927.  Among Dr. Steinhauser's neighbors in the building at the time was Rabbi Julius Boloker of the Congregation First Mihailener and the Independent Burdujener.

By the third quarter of the century, the East Village neighborhood had a more avant-garde demographic.  Head shops occupied former deli spaces and Mod Art posters hung in store windows.  In 1970, 22-year-old Bruce McKeithen, a Bernard B. Baruch College student, occupied an apartment here.

On May 21 that year, Narcotics Division detectives arrested a Barnard College co-ed, Andrea Rosenberg in her West End Avenue apartment.  Police called her "a major supplier of drugs" at Columbia University.  They discovered $100,000 worth of illegal drugs in her apartment.  Unfortunately for Bruce McKeithen, he and two young Columbia students were in the apartment at the time of the raid.  They were arrested for drug possession.

photograph by Carole Teller

At some point, the brownstone was painted cream and white.  The original stoop ironwork and entrance doors survive.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

The 1933 Independent Theatre Owners Bldg - 341 West 44th Street

An article in the "Vaudeville" section of The Billboard on May 6, 1933, announced that the Independent Theatre Owners' Protective Association "expect to open their new offices soon at 341 West 44th street."  Recently formed by independent motion picture theater owners, the organization sought to protect them from the already powerful film distributors and large theater circuits.

The group's new headquarters were in a recently completed, three-story building just blocks away from the country's entertainment epicenter--Times Square.  Designed by Raymond Irrera for the 341 West 44th Street Corporation, it straddled the Art Deco and Art Moderne styles.

The ground floor was dominated by a modern arcade show window.  Its vast plate glass panels, sitting upon a polished black base, were trimmed in thin strips of chrome.  Nestled behind the storefront were two entrances, one accessing the store and the other the offices above.

Irrera sandwiched the two upper floors between matching terra cotta friezes of Art Deco zigzags and rondels.  He used starkly contrasting white and black brick to create the Art Moderne design of the second and third floors.  The resulting economy of materials during the difficult Depression years worked.  Construction cost the syndicate $15,000 to erect, or about $373,000 in 2026 terms.

The ground floor space was taken by the Amusement Supply Co., Inc.  It catered to the nearby legitimate theaters by offering set design and construction, lighting, and equipment.

The Independent Theatre Owners Association had barely settled into their new home when trouble ensued.  In June 1933, President Franklin D. Roosevelt established the National Recover Administration to stimulate economic recovery.  On November 10, it filed a $1 million suit "on the ground of alleged violation," reported The New York Times.  Calling the Independent Theatre Owners Association and a co-defendant "an alleged 'company union,'" the suit charged that they "signed the re-employment agreement to better business conditions by hiring more men, increasing wages and cutting working house to thirty-five hours a week."  Instead, they "cut staffs in half, reduced pay and increased the working week to fifty-two hours."  The two organizations were ordered to pay "sums ranging from $1,294 to $5,499 for crews of from four to eight men."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The drastic decline of independently owned motion picture houses at midcentury prompted the closing of the Independent Theatre Owners Association.  It was gone from 341 West 44th Street as early as 1940.  The Amusement Supply Co., Inc. still occupied the storefront that year.  A theatrical printing firm, New Process Program Corp. occupied the second floors.  It produced programs, banners on oilcloth, full-sized lobby cutouts of motion picture stars, and lobby posters.  Upstairs was Eldridge Enterprises, Inc.  Its cryptically worded help wanted ad on November 3, 1940 gave no hint of the firm or its dealings:

Attention Salesmen:  Big Commissions.  Proven Plan for Retail merchants to increase sales.  Write for particulars.  Eldridge Enterprises, Inc. 341 West 44th St., New York.

The Tops Employment Agency occupied space here as early as 1961.  On July 6 that year, Mayor Robert Wagner ordered penalties against the firm.  The New York Times reported that it was "accused of 'petty chiseling' against domestic workers they had brought to the city."

A renovation in 1991 resulted in a "eating and drinking establishment" on the second floor, and by 1996 the Trilogy Theatre Group operated downstairs.  It presented plays like Louise Page's Tissue, a drama about a woman's struggle with breast cancer, in April 1996, and Kevin Doyle's Styrofoam, about the Stampede Theater Festival, staged here in January 2004.  That production was among the group's last.  The Trilogy Theatre closed later that year.

Luthier Music Corp. replaced the theater.  It sold guitars, sheet music, and Luthier-made guitar strings, among other related goods.  The store would occupy the space for a decade, moving out in 2014.

The handsome little building sat empty for years before being purchased by the Buddha's Light International Association.  The group announced plans to construct the Buddha's Light Cultural Center on the site.  But that scheme got derailed.  In May 2026, the group sold the property "to a fashion executive," according to Crain's New York.  Its fate is unknown at the time of this writing.

photographs by the author

The 1900 Abner C. Thomas House - 315 West 84th Street

 

James Ross and Charles R. McNeill established their architectural practice in 1898.  Among their first commissions was the designing of six upscale rowhouses on the north side of West 84th Street between Riverside Drive and West End Avenue for Matthews & Eppenstein.  Completed in 1900, the five-story homes were designed, overall, in the Beaux Arts style.  Ross & McNeil created an off-balanced row in an ABBBAA configuration.  The flat-faced "A" models were clad in red brick.  The B models, which included 315 West 84th Street, were faced in brown brick above their rusticated limestone bases.  The upper three floors were bowed, terminating in a dignified stone balustrade that fronted the tiled mansard.  Its prominent dormer wore an arched pediment.

The houses form a dignified row.  315 West 84th Street is hiding behind the tree in the foreground.

Matthews & Eppenstein had purchased the property from Henry Oppenheimer in November 1899.  The transaction did not come without a problem.  A house already existed at 315 West 84th Street and it was being leased to attorney Abner C. Thomas and his family.  The developers apparently negotiated with family, because when the row was completed, the Thomas family moved into 315 West 84th Street.

Abner C. Thomas was born in Brooklyn in 1844.  He received a civil engineering degree from the Polytechnic College of Pennsylvania.  At the age of 21, he changed course, studying law in Bridgeport, Connecticut.  He relocated to New York City in 1866 and opened his law office.  

Thomas and his wife, the former Lucy Carnahan, had four children: Ethel Cary, Rhoda Cary, Lucy Cary and Abel Cary.  Lucy had a long American pedigree.  She was the first president of the Daughters of Ohio, and a member of the Daughters of the Revolution, and the Daughters of the War of 1812.  She was, as well, a member of Sorosis, the first professional women's club in America.

The Thomas family had lived in the previous house as early as 1895.  The last social event in that residence took place on December 5, 1899.  That evening Rhoda Cary Thomas was married to Cornelius W. Luyster Jr. at the Church of All Angels on West End Avenue.  The New-York Tribune remarked, "a supper and dance for the members of the bridal party will follow at the home of the bride's parents, No. 315 West Eighty-fourth-st."

In addition to his law practice, Abner C. Thomas was an author.  He wrote, according to The Evening World, "many text books on law," most of which dealt with real estate law.  In 1899, he was appointed surrogate justice by the Tammany organization.

In March 1903, F. W. Drury and his wife, Josephine, purchased 315 West 84th Street.  Their residency would be relatively short and in May 1907, they sold the house to Corinne Roche.

A graduate of the Convent of the Sacred Heart, Corinne was highly involved in real estate, buying and selling properties in Manhattan.  Her parents, Walter and Mary Amelia Doherty Roche, were both dead and moving into 315 West 84th Street were Corinne's sisters, Beatrice, Marie and Amelia.  The Roches' summer home was in Deal Beach, New Jersey.  At the time, Beatrice was still a student in the Convent of the Sacred Heart.

On September 24, 1907, Marie was married to Joseph Thomas Ryan in Deal, New Jersey.  Her brother, John Doherty Roche, gave her away.  The New York Times noted, "A reception followed the wedding at the Roche Summer home."

The Asbury Park Press began an article on September 11, 1909, "While on a vacation from the Convent of the Sacred Heart at Manhattanville, N. Y., several years ago, Miss Beatrice Roche gave a birthday party...and it was there that she first met Dr. William Vincent Pascual of Brooklyn, then a student at Columbia university."  The article said a "rather romantic courtship" followed.  Beatrice and Pascual were married in Deal on the morning of that article.  Corinne was Beatrice's maid of honor and John gave her away.  The reception was held in Marie and Joseph Ryan's summer home.

There were now just two sisters in the West 84th Street house.  Corinne busied herself with her real estate dealings while remaining highly active in her alumnae association.  On June 15, 1919, for instance, the New York Herald announced, "On the campus at Manhattanville members of the alumnae association of the Convent of the Sacred Heart College held their 'Old Students' Day' Tuesday."  The article noted that Corinne Roche was the chairman of the arrangements.

Amelia was married to John William Kehoe in the Church of the Holy Trinity in September 1920.  She was given away by Joseph Ryan.  (John D. Roche had died on January 29, 1918.)  Corinne attended her sister.  The New York Times reported, "The ceremony was followed by a wedding breakfast at the home of the bride, 315 West Eighty-fourth Street."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Corinne was not left alone in the house.  Amelia and John moved in.  Kehoe was a textile executive and Amelia kept busy with charity work.  She was vice president of the Manhattanville Children of Mary, was highly active in the ladies' auxiliary of St. Joseph's Day Nursery, and was treasurer of the Maplehurst Alumnae of the Sacred Heart.  And in 1933, The New York Sun reported that she was chairman of the International Federation of Catholic Alumnae's annual bridge party.

Corinne Roche continued to buy and sell real estate.  On May 9, 1930, for instance, The New York Times reported that she had purchased an apartment building on East 123rd Street, and by the early 1940s she owned a theater on Eighth Avenue.

In August 1944, real estate operator M. C. Berg purchased 315 West 84th Street, sparking a game of real estate hot potato.  He resold it the following month "to an investor," according to The New York Sun on September 28.  In April 1945, G. W. Cane purchased it and resold it the following month to real estate Dorothy Kaliski.  She rented rooms in the house until 1953, when The New York Times reported on June 4 that she sold it to a buyer who would convert it into ten apartments.  But, once again, the purchaser resold 351 West 84th Street the following month.  On July 24, The New York Times reported, "The buyer plans to alter the building and occupy a large part of it."

The once elegant home became a rooming house.  The following year, on December 21, 1954, The New York Times reported that the owner and nine other rooming house owners had been "threatened with forced evacuation of their tenements as firetraps."

A renovation completed in 1956 resulted in one apartment each on the first and second floors, two each on the third and fourth, and two furnished rooms on the fifth floor.  There would be three more renovations to come, each one reducing the number of units.  In 1973 the first and second floors were combined as a duplex, in 1995 that apartment was enlarged to a triplex, and, finally, in 2017 315 West 84th Street was restored to a single-family home.

photographs by the author

The Lost Empire Brewery - 287 West 10th Street

from the collection of the New York Public Library.

The State Legislature enacted a statute in 1796 to erect two New York State prisons, one in Albany and the other in New York City.  The latter's four-acre site was in Greenwich Village and stretched from Skinner Road (today's Christopher Street) to the south to Charles Street at the north.  Designed by French-born architect Joseph-Francois Mangin and completed in 1797, the Federal style structure was both utilitarian and attractive.

from the collection of the New York Public Library

The Christopher Street prison's tenure was short.  A new facility was completed in Ossining, New York in 1828 and the last prisoner was transferred there in 1829.

Four years earlier, Abraham Nash had founded an ale brewery at Troy, New York.  In 1837, a relative, Ebenezer Beadleston, who lived in New York City, was brought in "for the purpose of extending the business in that locality," according to The Western Brewer in 1903.  Beadleston was made a partner in 1840 and the firm was renamed Nash, Beadleston & Company.
 
In 1846, the firm purchased the old prison block, as well as "one wing extending north to Charles street, another south to Tenth, formerly Amos street, and a third due west, terminating in a hat shop where the convicts were employed," as explained the New York Herald.  

The Western Brewer explained:

The old State Prison, whose buildings were occupied as a brewing and malting plant, was constructed of stone and surrounded by a high wall.  The wall was torn down when the property was purchased by Nash, Beadleston & Company who used the cells for malting rooms and built three stories upon the massive foundation.

Features of Mangin's Federal design, including the distinctive cupola, were apparent.  One Hundred Years of Brewing, 1903 (copyright expired)

The northern property included the brewery's stables (which were on Charles Street) and other auxiliary buildings.  The repurposed prison functioned until the beginning of the 1880s.  In 1879 construction began on a new brewery on the northern property, "covering practically all of the block bounded by Washington, Charles, Tenth and West Streets with the exception of the West Street frontage," according to The New York Times.

In January 1881, "their new ale and porter brewery was completed," as recalled by One Hundred Years of Brewing in 1903, on the northern property.  "In the same year," said the article, "they demolished the remainder of the prison."

On May 23, 1881, the New York Herald reported, "An energetic gang of workmen attacked on Saturday the main building of the old State prison," and recalled that it had been purchased "in 1846 by a firm of brewers, Nash, Beadleston & Co.  the firm afterward became Beadleston & Nash, then Beadleston & Price, later Walter N. Price, next Beadleston, Price & Woerz, and is now Beadlestone & Woerz."

The article noted, "The walls are three feet thick and built very firmly, and the live oak timbers and stone-like plaster resisted pickaxe and crowbar bravely."  The New York Times later explained, "The foundation walls were found so solid that they were retained in the new structure."

The 1879 Bromley map clearly shows in pink the irregular property.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

Oddly enough, the new complex was a collection of structures.  The three that faced West 10th Street were distinct.  The main building, at 287 West 10th Street, was a blend of Rundbogenstil, or German Romanesque, and Victorian Gothic.  The round-arched openings of the ground floor sat within a heavily rusticated base that continued into the eastern building.  Deep corbel tables, typical of the Rundbogenstil style, ran below the cornice while a shingled clock tower with a pyramidal cap gave the structure panache.  

Trow's New York City Directory, 1880 (copyright expired)

The year 1888 started out badly.  On April 18, the New-York Tribune reported that the Beadleston & Woertz employees "went out on strike yesterday, breaking their union contracts with the proprietors."  Two weeks later, on May 5, The Evening World subtitled an article, "The Brewers and the Men Carrying on their Fight as Hot as Ever."  The unified breweries, including Beadleston & Woertz, had initiated a union lockout.

In the meantime, Beadleston & Woertz was being sued by a saloon owner.  J. H. Fulton owed the brewery $100.  When the debt was not paid, Beadleston & Woerz notified the Association of Beer Brewers and a city-wide boycott was initiated against J. H. Fulton.  Unable to acquire beer, his business was ruined.  Around the same time of the strike, he sued Beadleston & Woertz for $10,000 damages (a significant three-quarters of a million in 2026).  The suit drew the attention of reformers.  The New York Herald remarked on May 9, 1888, "If the inquiry is allowed, then, in all probability, the methods of boycotts on the side of the boss brewers may be gone into."  In the end, Beadleston & Woertz was victorious.  The next day, The New York Times reported, "Judge Andrews ordered a verdict for the defendants."

An 1894 advertisement boasted that the brewery's Imperial brand beer was "the best table beer in the market."  (original source unknown.)

A law in 1895 demanded that all wagons and trucks were taken off the streets at night to enable street cleaning.  Many large establishments, like Beadleston & Woertz, ignored the rule.  On April 7, the New York Herald reported that four nights earlier, Street Cleaning Department Commissioner Charles K. Moore and "gangs of men from stables" had swarmed the streets and confiscated vehicles.  One establishment that had not been not targeted was Beadleston & Woertz, "where it is said that nearly a hundred heavy beer wagons were left out in the street every night," according to the New York Herald.  The article said that Deputy Commissioner Moore "went down and looked at the place, and found that not only were the streets lined with the brewery wagons, but that there were also hundreds of other trucks and wagons in the vicinity."

The problem of cleaning up the infractions revolved around the rough, riverfront neighborhood.  According to the New York Herald, Moore told his foreman to go to Beadleston & Woerz's brewery at 9:30 on the night of April 3.  "I want the men to lug off just as many of the trucks as they can."

The foreman replied, "I wouldn't advise going there before midnight."

"Why not?"

"You know the neighborhood?"

"Perfectly"

"There will be a row."

"I hope not," replied Moore, "but if it comes we'll simply have to fight, that's all."

As expected, as the men started driving off the beer wagons, men rushed from all sides, many from the nearby saloons.  One man yelled, "they're stealing the brewery wagons.  Get help quick!"  A melee erupted with angry men attempting to pull Deputy Moore from his buggy.  The city workers were met with "a shower of sticks and stones."  Finally, Moore told a brewery representative that as long as he put the wagons into the firm's yard, he would relinquish, but would check back in a few days to make sure the wagons were not back on the street.  Moore put a positive spin on the violent encounter.  The New York Herald reported, "Deputy Moore was highly pleased at the success of the raid."

On January 30, 1897, the New-York Tribune wrote a human interest article about Alfred N. Beadleston, grandson of Ebenezer Beadleston.  "Mr. Beadleston has taken full charge of the financial end of the concern, and under his able management the house has grown to be second to none in this part of the country."  The article said the brewery was producing 175,000 barrels of ale and porter a year.

Alfred Beadleston and his partners were millionaires by the end of the 19th century, New-York Tribune January 30, 1897 (copyright expired)

Frederick W. Woerz's name was in the newspapers five years later for less complimentary reasons.  On December 12, 1902, The New York Times reported that he had sent "private sleuths" to secretly accompany his wife to London and Paris.  Their investigation resulted in Woerz's filing for divorce.  "In the papers a foreign nobleman's name and that of a well-known musician were mentioned," said the article.

Prohibition brought an end to Beadleston & Woerz's Empire Brewing Company.  On December 16, 1920, The New York Times reported, "An old lower west side landmark has been disposed of in the leasing of a large portion of the Empire Brewing Company's property at 156 and 158 Charles Street, two seven and eight story buildings."  The Reynolds Whitney Warehouse Company, Inc. had leased the property for 20 years.  "The same company has also secured an option to lease the buildings at 674 and 676 Washington Street and 287 to 303 West Tenth Street," said the article.

Five years later, it appeared that Prohibition was here to stay and Beadleston & Wortz, "which has not manufactured beer for some time," had decided to liquidate its business and "release itself from the $50,000 bond which breweries post with the Treasury Department," according to The New York Times.  In preparing to sell the property, Prohibition Agent William F. McCann inspected the buildings on March 24, 1925.  Surprisingly, the article said he "seized 309 cases of beer," adding, "No charge was made against the brewery, and the owners disclaimed knowledge of the beer."

On August 22, 1937, The New York Times reported, "Old-timers and historical students in the Greenwich Village area have been visiting in larger numbers than usual during the last few days the Tenth Street block in the far westerly section between Washington and West Streets."  The interest was sparked by the demolishing of the Beadleston & Woerz buildings "for a three-story commercial building."  The visitors "are awaiting the time when the demolition will disclose portions of the foundations and walls of New York's first State Prison," said the article.  It continued, "In the demolition now under way the old prison walls will no longer be retained and the last vestiges of the structural work of the building artists of 1797 will soon disappear from the soil of Manhattan."

The three-story building, completed in 1938, survived until 2020, replaced by a 16-story apartment building.

The 1878 237 East 79th Street

Following the end of the Civil War, development crept northward into the Yorkville district.  Access to the neighborhood was greatly enhanced when the IRT Third Avenue Line opened in 1878.  That year, a four-story double flat (meaning there were two apartments per floor) was erected at 237 East 79th Street.  

Faced in brownstone, it's up-to-the-minute neo-Grec design included a rusticated first floor above a short stoop.  The centered entrance was crowned with a triangular pediment.  At the upper floors, French windows were framed by elaborate architraves that sat upon bracketed sills.  Scalloped lintels with incised decorations upheld prominent molded cornices.   An ornate pressed metal cornice completed the design.

In 1940, nearly nothing had changed to the neo-Grec design, including the charming French windows.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services. 

An advertisement described, "six light rooms and bath, modern improvements."  Among those "improvements" would have been running hot and cold water.  The eight families in the building were middle class.  Among the residents in 1879 were three clerks, Thomas D. Barton Jr., Ashley W. Cole, and George A. French.  

The families were affluent enough to afford at least one servant.  An advertisement appeared in The New York Herald on December 30, 1879, for instance, that read: "Wanted--A girl for housework; two in family; wages, $7 per month."  (The wages were not overly generous.  They would equal $233 in 2026.)

The Lehn family moved to New York City from Easton, Pennsylvania in 1880 and took an apartment here.  Their 19-year-old son, George W., found a job as an "extra gateman" at the 18th Street station of the Third Avenue elevated railroad.  (Gatemen controlled the wooden gates that protected passengers on the platforms.  Gatemen opened them when the trains arrived and closed them before the trains pulled out.)

George had had the job only a short time when his inexperience and the brashness of youth caused his horrific death.  Half an hour after appearing for work on the night of September 7, 1880, he "attempted to cross from one station to the other" by trotting over the tracks rather than cross at street level.  The New York Herald reported, "His foot became caught, and before he could extricate it he was struck by Engine No. 11."  The newspaper graphically recounted, "The whole train passed over him, and his body was shockingly torn and mangled."

At the time of the tragedy, Amos K. Hadley, the former Attorney General of New York State, and his family occupied an apartment here.  Early in October 1880, Hadley notified the landlord, J. P. Huyerman, who lived on Bank Street, that he would be moving out.  The New York Evening Telegram reported, "He, however, was indebted to Mr. Huyerman for a small balance of rent and Mr. Huyerman refused to allow him to move until the amount due was paid."  Hadley told him he had was "about to collect some bills" and he would pay the outstanding money when he received the necessary cash.

On moving day, October 18, Hadley went downtown.  When he returned home he found his family and a guest of his wife imprisoned in the apartment.  The New York Evening Telegram reported that Huyerman had locked the doors and refused "to allow them to leave or to remove any of their baggage until the balance of rent was paid."  Hadley rushed to a police station and had Huyerman arrested for disorderly conduct.

The landlord's obsessive behavior over the outstanding rent cost him.  Justice Smith fined him $10 (about $325 today) and "required him to furnish $500 bail for his good behavior for six months" or serve three months in the Workhouse.  The judge announced, "it was about time that landlords learned that they do not own their tenants, body and soul."  According to the article, as Huyerman was led out of the courtroom he muttered, "We'll see about that."

On September 16, 1889, The Press titled an article, "Very Old And Very Wicked."  The headline referred to 73-year-old resident Joseph P. Snow, whom Police Inspector Thomas F. Byrnes described as "one of the most notorious 'fences' in the country."  Snow was a slippery fellow.  The Press explained, "He has been arrested dozens of times, and although stolen property has frequently been found in his possession he has thus far escaped punishment, with the exception of a term of five years which he served in Moyamensing Prison."

Snow's luck finally ran out.  On September 9, 1889, George Storms, alias Dick Short; William G. Cole, and ex-convict Charles Gardner broke into the J. C. Hecker leather goods factory and stole "several thousands dollars' worth of fancy pocketbooks, bags, etc.," according to The Press.  Most of the booty was stashed at Snow's apartment from which he intended to "dispose of" it.  A week later, after the thieves were nabbed, detectives closed in on 237 East 79th Street.  When Snow saw the detectives entering the building, he "ran into the yard, and, despite his weakness, tried to climb the fence."  Once again, Snow attempted to slip out of his dilemma.  The Press reported, "He is a bland old fellow, and told the Inspector that he did not know the goods were stolen, and promised that all would be returned if he was liberated."  This time the ploy did not work.

Four years later another resident was arrested, this time for a much more white collar crime.  Alexander Eisberg was the general bookkeeper of the State Bank of New York.  On July 21, 1893, the 27-year-old and the bank's paying teller, Carl Abresch, conspired to commit embezzlement.  They manipulated the books by creating false entries to cover up the $1,200 they stole.  When the books were audited on December 7, the discrepancy was discovered.  "Eisberg, upon being accused, made a confession," reported The Evening World on December 15.

John Schwandtner and his family lived here in 1904.  He was the senior partner in Pole & Schwandtner, structural iron contractors.  Paul Pole was essentially a silent partner.  The Evening World explained, "Mr. Pole is a man who saved a little money and put it into [the business] with Schwandtner."  The article said that Schwandtner ran the business and Pole knew almost nothing about how it operated.

That business relationship came into serious play during the construction of the Hotel Darlington.  On March 2, 1904, the building collapsed.  The next day, The Brooklyn Citizen reported that 15 bodies had been recovered from the debris, but grimly added, "The corpses are buried under many tons of structural metal and the work of getting them out necessarily is very slow."

On March 5, The Evening World reported, "The man most wanted just now by the officials who are endeavoring to place the responsibility for the Hotel Darlington disaster is John Schwandtner."  A server had taken a warrant to 237 East 79th Street on the previous morning.  Coroner Scholer, who was heading the investigation, told reporters:

He didn't find Mr. Schwandtner, but he learned that he left the house at midnight with a dress suit case and was evidently going on a journey.  We have not given up the chase, but it looks as though he had deliberately left town to avoid testifying in the inquest into these deaths.

By the time of that article, the body count had risen to 18.  Two days later, the New York Herald reported that Schwandtner had not yet been found, but "his house is being watched."

John Schwandtner was eventually tracked down and returned to New York.  Then, on March 29, 1904, The Evening World reported that a grand jury had indicted Eugene C. Allison, the managing owner of the collapsed building with manslaughter.  The article said, "To the great surprise of everybody, no indictments were found against Paul Pole and John Schwandtner."  

On November 3, 1912, the New-York Tribune ran a column titled, "At Music Studios," and reported, "Richard Loewy, violinist and teacher, whose studio is at 237 East 79th street, is establishing himself as a successful teacher."  The article noted that he "gives his pupils the benefit of his many years of study, and practical experience."  Loewy also coached singers, among whom were sopranos Mathilde Mallinger and Praxede Marcelline Proschansky.

Franklin Lacy Sheldon was "a member of a prominent family," according to The New York Sun.  He was the son of Dr. William Hills Sheldon, an assistant professor of medicine at Cornell University.  Following his graduation from Yale in 1936, Franklin Sheldon moved into 237 East 79th Street.  He found an accounting job, but then lost it in February 1938.

Sheldon's mother, who lived in a duplex apartment on East 86th Street, maintained a summer home in Bethlehem, Connecticut.  She was there on September 10, 1938 when the 26-year-old entered her apartment and committed suicide.  A handyman in that building forced his way into the kitchen, "the door of which had been propped shut with a chair," reported The New York Times.  "He found gas escaping from all the jets of the kitchen rage.  Sheldon was lying on the floor, dead."  Ironically, according to his sister, he was expected to start a new job the next morning.

No. 237 East 79th Street survives as the last remnant of the 19th century on the northern side of the block.

In 1936 the building was updated, however the exterior was left almost entirely untouched.  Then, a renovation in 1970 cut the apartments in half--now four per floor--and the 1878 neo-Grec exterior elements were removed.  The brownstone was slathered with stucco, successfully eliminating almost every hint of the original design other than the cornice.

photographs by the author

The 1890 Solomon and Josephine Zeman House - 346 West 122nd Street

Between 1888 and 1890, brothers Joseph W. and A. Alonzo Teets erected 21 brownstone-fronted houses on both sides of West 122nd Street between Morningside and Manhattan Avenues.  Those on the southern side were designed by J. A. Webster and E. H. Hammond in 1889.  (Webster had tackled the northern project alone a year earlier.)

Instead of the arched entrances seen in the two end houses, the double-doored entrances of the eight interior homes, including 346 West 122nd Street, sat below substantial molded cornices.  They sat upon heavy, foliate-carved corbels supported by diminutive paired columns on foliate brackets.

The architects striated the 16-foot-wide facade with narrow bands.  Those of the parlor level were carved with Renaissance motifs, while undressed stone contrasted with the planar brownstone of the upper floors.  The openings mimicked the entrance with carved corbels and cornices.

On October 2, 1890 A. Alonzo Teets sold 346 West 122nd Street to Josephine and Solomon Zeman for $16,750 (about $611,000 in 2026 terms).  The couple had four children, Ida, Isaac, Bertha and Fanny.

The Zemans maintained a small domestic staff.  On August 31, 1892, Josephine placed an advertisement in The World that sought, "Cook--A thoroughly competent cook; no washing; Swede or German preferred; must have references."  Josephine's noting that the cook would not share the chores of a maid or laundress was important.  Cooks who worked for upper-class families refused to do tasks they considered below their station.

The Zemans dealt in real estate.  On January 30, 1895, for instance, they sold 42 West 83rd Street to John H. Henshaw.  Other times, it appears, they operated on a strictly individual basis.  When Solomon transferred title to 112 Broome Street to Josephine in May 1898, he charged her $37,250 for the property.

Solomon Zeman died at the age of 67 on November 29, 1909.  Four years later, in February 1913, Josephine sold 346 West 122nd Street to Arthur Blue, another real estate operator.  It does not appear that Blue ever lived here, but leased the property as a rooming or boarding house.

Among his first tenants was actor Christopher Richards.  He would leave the stage for the motion picture screen early on, appearing in the 1918 silent films His Double Life and A Safe Danger.  Richard's career was successful enough that he was able to afford a motorcar.  His problem was that he had a lead foot.

On April 17, 1914, Christopher Richards stood before Magistrate Kortel to answer a charge of "running his automobile faster than the legal limit."  Motorcycle Policeman Zeh testified that, "when he overtook Richards he was running his machine through a crowded section of upper Broadway at thirty miles an hour," reported The Evening Telegram.  This was Richards's third offense.  He pleaded guilty, but "at his earnest pleadings not to be locked up," was paroled for 24 hours to obtain his $100 fine--a stinging $3,340 today.

Another tenant at the time, Vincenzo Matta, also had an automobile.  In 1914 he registered a Hudson motorcar.

At the end of World War I, Dr. John R. Hillery owned 346 West 122nd Street.  A chiropodist, his office was at 238 West 132nd Street.

Hillery was rejected by the Pedic Society of the State of New York in 1918 because of his race.  He sued on behalf of himself and eight other black doctors, "all reputable chiropodists," according to The New York Age.  His complaint charged, "the applicants were rejected simply and solely by reason of their color."

Dr. John R. Hillery, The New York Age, December 20, 1919 (copyright expired)

In its January 1920 issue, The Crisis reported, "The Supreme Court in New York City has handed down a verdict in the test case brought by Dr. John R. Hillery, a colored chiropodist, compelling the Pedic Society to admit to membership nine colored chiropodists who had been refused admission."

Hillery's civil rights work caught the attention of an unexpected figure--the Pope.  Calling Hillery "a pioneer podiatrist of Harlem and a leader of the professional group," on October 20, 1923, The New York Age reported that he had received "a most unusual honor."  The article said, "He had received the Apostolic Blessing of His Holiness, Pope Pius XI, the communication, under the Papal Seal, having been signed December 13, 1922."

The New York Age stressed, "This blessing is only conferred by the Pope upon recommendation of high ecclesiastics and then only after a rigorous examination into the honoree."  The article went on to say:

Among the doctor's clientele he numbers the great Polish pianist and statesman, Ignace de Paderewski, and the latter, when in Rome in late in May, in a personal audience, thanked the Pope for the honor conferred on his friend, Dr. Hillery.

In 1932, a wealthy patient thanked Dr. Hillery by chartering a private "passenger transport plane, used by one of the New York daily papers in making photographs from the air," as reported by The New York Age on October 7.  The unnamed patient arranged the airplane to "take Dr. Hillery and friends on an aerial trip to Washington and return."  

Hillery invited his niece and a colleague on the trip.  Terrified of flying, his wife went to the airport "and went so far as to enter the plane and be taxied around the field, but could not be prevailed upon to take the air trip," said the article.  The party was given an automobile sightseeing tour of Washington D.C. before returning to New York.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

On December 1, 1942, The New York Times reported that the estate of Dr. John R. Hillery had sold 346 West 122nd Street to Bertha Williams "for cash."  By midcentury, the house was occupied by divorcee Elinor Stahl.

On September 21, 1950, the Tarrytown, New York newspaper The Daily News said that Elinor and her former husband, Harlow Curtis Stahl, "were divorced several years ago [and] she received an undisclosed settlement reported to be $1 million and a mansion in Grosse Point Farms [Michigan]."  Why Elinor chose the West 122nd block for her New York City home is puzzling.  By now, most of the homes were converted to rooming houses.

Elinor raised social eyebrows in 1950.  The Daily News reported, "Mrs. Elinor Stahl, heiress in an exclusive Detroit suburb, was married [in Tuckahoe] to her Negro houseman, William Tibbs, on Aug. 26, it was revealed today."  The article said, "The socialite and her houseman took out the marriage license in Yonkers on Aug. 24.  She listed her age as forty-seven, and her address as 346 West 122d Street, New York City."  The groom was 26.  The Daily News reported that they would spend their honeymoon at the Grosse Point Farms mansion.

In the first years of the 2000s, the interior architectural details survived, but significant neglect was apparent.  photos via zillow.com

By the turn of the 21st century, the interior detailing survived--most of which, miraculously, had not been painted.  But decades of neglect was apparent.  The buyer restored the interiors and converted the house to a two-family home.

uncredited photographs by the author