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

The 1926 New York Furniture Exchange - 200 Lexington Avenue

photograph by Carole Teller

The newly formed Lexington-32nd Street Corporation acquired all the buildings along the western blockfront of Lexington Avenue between 32nd and 33rd Streets in 1925.  The architectural firm of Buchman & Kahn, in association with architect Maximilian Zipkes, was hired to design a 15-story structure that would house the New York Furniture Exchange.  Although the firm's filings do not specify which architect took the reins in the project, Ely Jacques Kahn is routinely given the credit.

Buchman & Kahn released this rendering in 1926.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Completed in 1926 at a cost of $2.7 million (nearly $50 million in 2026 terms), the monolithic structure was faced in sandy-colored brick and trimmed in terra cotta.  Its Art Deco design included elements influenced by Celtic, Assyrian and other exotic prototypes.  Above the third floor, a terra cotta frieze of an undulating vine snakes below and above trailing bellflowers (every other example defying gravity).  It is interrupted sporadically by octagonal plaques and rosettes.

The panels on either side of the fluted terra cotta tiles between the third-floor windows reflected Celtic motifs.  photograph by Carole Teller

Above the 11th floor was a complex, striated cornice.  Its contrasting layers mixed modern Art Deco motifs with ancient themes.  Rather than a terminal cornice, the three-story setback was crowned simply with a paneled parapet.

The Furniture Exchange was not a new concept.  It was established in 1891 at the Grand Central Palace at 36th Street and Seventh Avenue.  But it had come a long way since then.  An advertisement in The Decorative Furnisher in January 1927 said the New York Furniture Exchange was "where the country's furniture buying power meets."  Furniture makers and dealers nationwide leased space in the building to market their goods.  A listing of the tenants in the June 1927 issue of Furniture Index filled two full pages.  An article in the May 1928 issue of The Furniture Journal said:

Conceived more than a generation ago by a group of broad-visioned manufacturers, as a manufacturers' outlet...the Furniture Exchange in this city has from the start been a lighthouse on the Atlantic coast for the manufacturers of furniture throughout the country--a spot where they could assemble their choicest products, secure in the thought that they would be inspected here by those who ought to see them, and no others.

Only wholesale buyers were admitted into the building.  The Furniture Journal said it was "firmly barred against cowans and eavesdroppers."  The article reported that there were no fewer than "237 categories of merchandise on display in the building."

photograph by Sigurd Fischer from The Architectural Record, July 1926

While buyers could shop throughout the year, the busiest time for tenants were the winter and summer Furniture Expositions.  The two-week events drew retailers from across the nation.  On January 15, 1929, for instance, Furniture Buyer and Decorator commented, "For the past two or three weeks the big New York Furniture Exchange has been a continuous scene of hustle and bustle, getting ready for the January Semi-Annual Furniture Exposition."

The Furniture Journal, May 1928.

One dealer made history of a sort in 1955 when he leased space in the building.  On January 22 that year, The New York Age reported that Al Thompson, whose principal operation was in Brooklyn, was "the only Negro registered with the New York Furniture Exchange."  The article called Thompson a "sterling example of successful enterprise overcoming real or fancied problems of race."  It also pointed out, "More than 90 percent of Thompson's business is white."

A facade restoration was initiated in 1961.  The building was sheathed in steel and wooden scaffolding to accommodate what The New York Times described as "resurfacing work."  On the night of February 25, the city was hit with a vicious gale with wind gusts reaching 60 miles per hour.  At 8:35, Mr. and Mrs. Harris Kanzer stepped out of their car at the curb in front of 200 Lexington Avenue.  The New York Times said that at that moment, "the wind caught at the canvas screening on the two-story scaffolding of tubular steel uprights and horizontal planking."  

In a chain reaction, the scaffolding collapsed, starting at 33rd Street and ending domino-like at 32nd Street.  Eleven cars were damaged and the Kramers were pelted with debris.  Happily, they were only slightly injured.

photos by Sigurd Fischer from The Architectural Record, July 1926

The 73rd New York Winter Furniture Show started on January 14, 1964.  The timing could not have been worse.  That day, what The New York Times called "New York's worst storm of the season" hit.  But despite the blizzard, attendance was only 20 per cent down.  The article said, "Furniture dealers proved themselves a hardy breed yesterday."  More than 3,200 customers battled the blast to examine the 550 manufacturers' offerings.

Over the decades, the furniture manufacturers, of course, adapted with changing tastes.  But perhaps no one was more reflective of that than Quasar Khanh, owner of the Paris-based Quasar Inflatables.  When he arrived in New York in October 1969 with new models, he carried the chairs, poufs and lamps in a suitcase.  The designer's inflatable furniture epitomized 1960s domestic tastes.

Within a decade, the furniture trade gradually moved to Long Island City.  A renovation in 1979 resulted in an adult trade school on the fourth floor.  And in 1981, the building's name was changed to the New York Design Center.  Martin Gottlieb, writing in The New York Times on May 13, 1984, explained, "Several years ago, the 500,000 square foot New York Furniture Exchange at 200 Lexington Avenue decided to convert itself from a wholesale commercial furniture building...to a building that served designers and decorators."

Among the tenants in 1994 was the New York Chapter of the American Institute of Architects.  It was the venue for exhibitions and other events, like the panel that discussed "the impact of empowerment zones and the relationships between public policy, design and planning" on September 19, 1996.  The American Institute of Architects would remain here until 2003.

The New York Design Center established Interior Operations in 1997.  Newsday explained on September 18, "For a one-time fee of $50, clients are paired with designers who either help them complete entire projects with merchandise from the center or merely assist them in selecting a few individual items from some of the 80 showrooms in the building."  The article noted parenthetically, "when it opened in 1926, [it] was the first furniture and design building in New York City."

photograph by Carole Teller

The New York Design Center contains 100 showrooms today.  They exhibit furniture, textiles, lighting and decorative accessories.  Like Interior Operations, the current Access to Design program helps educate consumers "on the value of good design," according to the Center's website.  In the meantime, the upper floors of Buchman & Kahn's striking 1926 building is nearly unchanged a century after its doors opened.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

The Devastated Bickford's Building - 459 Lexington Avenue

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

 

Bickford's Restaurants were a familiar presence in the urban New York landscape by the 1920s.  Samuel L. Bickford opened his first cafe in 1902 and within two years he ran a chain of lunchrooms popularized by its affordable prices and quick service.  The firm described its eateries saying they "are of the self-service type and serve a limited bill of fare, which makes possible the maximum use of equipment and a rapid turnover.  Emphasis is placed on serving meals of high quality at moderate cost."

On December 18, 1928, The New York Times reported that Bickford's Lunch Systems had leased the five-story building at 459 Lexington Avenue on the northeast corner of 45th Street from Catalina Paez MacManus.  The deal came with significant stipulations.  MacManus demolished the old building and F. Russell Stuckert was hired to design a replacement structure for the leasee.

F. Russell Stuckert was the son of  J. Franklin Stuckert.  At the turn of the century, the father-and-son partnership landed a lucrative contract with Horn & Hardart to design its automats.  J. F. Stuckert & Son dissolved in 1906, and the younger Stuckert established his own practice.  

Completed in 1930, the three-story Bickford's building was faced in terra cotta.  By chamfering the corner, Stuckert gave additional light to the upper floors.  An Art Deco grill above the restaurant's doorway was mimicked in stained glass above the ground floor windows.

The elaborate Art Deco grill above the doorway was copied in glass over the vast plate glass windows.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Fluted piers at the upper floors terminated in decorative elements that rose beyond the parapet.  Between them were ornate Art Deco panels.  An octagonal clock was embedded within the corner panel.

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

The Bickford's restaurant occupied the ground floor while the upper two were rented as offices and showrooms.

Two years after opening, a senseless spree forced Bickford's to replace several of the large ground floor plate glass windows.  Between 8:30 a.m. and 4:00 p.m. on December 26, 1932, 24 windows were shot out in restaurants around the city--ten in Horn & Hardart automats and the rest in Bickford's lunchrooms.  Among the targets was the Bickford's location at 459 Lexington Avenue.  The vandalism was thought to be the act of mischievous youths, an expert glazier saying, "a sling-shot with a stout, forked frame and strong rubber bands as the catapulting agency easily might have made any of the holes."

In the meantime, the upper floors were leased to a variety of tenants.  Moe Friedman, retailer of dresses, took space on the third floor in 1936, while Madame Fischer's Beauty Salon, owned by Rose Lowenfeld Fischer, occupied the second floor.  

The New York Times explained that the Hungarian-born Rose Fischer had opened her first shop at 95 Second Avenue in 1905.  "It became popular and was frequented by actresses of the Yiddish theatre," said the newspaper.  By now, she owned nine salons.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Alexander Klein managed the beauty shop in 1938.  On March 12 that year, a man entered and brandished a pistol.  Instead of turning over the contents of the cash register, Klein fled down the stairs and found two policemen.  By the time they returned, 31-year-old Hal Seften, who had arrived in New York City from Kansas City only a few weeks earlier, had fled.  He did not get far.  Police captured him on Lexington Avenue between 50th and 51st Streets.  The pistol turned out to be a toy.  He was charged with attempted robbery and a violation of the Sullivan Law (an early gun-control statute).

In 1966, Restaurant-Waldorf Associates leased the ground floor of 459 Lexington Avenue.  The New York Times remarked that it operated "the Four Seasons and the Zum-Zum restaurants."  The article noted, "The building is now occupied by a Bickford's Restaurant."  Renovations were made to accommodate a new Zum-Zum branch.

The ground floor was modernized again in 1980.  It now accommodated four shops.  Le Croissant Shop moved into the large corner space.  On May 6, 1981, Moira Hodgson explained in The New York Times that the restaurant, "is a family operation owned by Robert Lamer, former head waiter at Le Cynge.  The baking is done on the premises by a baker who has worked at Dumas, Delices La Cote Basque and Bonte."

The 1980 renovation affected only the ground floor.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

F. Russell Stuckert's Art Deco design survived until 1992 when a new facade was installed that erased the building's architectural personality.

image via loopnet.com