photo by Feil Organization
On December 11, 1909, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that Charles Brogan, Inc. had hired Neville & Bagge to design a "16-story brick and stone loft" at the northeast corner of Fourth Avenue and 20th Street. The cost, said the article, would be $350,000, or about $12.4 million in 2026 terms.
The architects' Renaissance Revival design included a three-story, stone-clad base. Retail spaces sat behind double-height elliptical arches that flooded the interiors with natural light. Stone faux balconies dotted the brick faced ten-story midsection. Above an intermediate cornice, a dramatic, triple-height arcade was distinguished by Scamozzi pilasters. A bracketed cornice completed the design.
A relic from the neighborhood's residential past, the All Souls' Unitarian Church can be seen at the right corner. The Architectural Record, December 1910 (copyright expired)
The Brogan Building filled with a variety of tenants. Among the early apparel-related firms were the Regal Art Embroidery Company, which leased the 15th floor in November 1912; the Castle Braid Company; and M. C. Migel & Co., makers of corsets and underwear.
The Vulcanized Rubber Co., maker of "rubber combs and sundries," was here by 1913. The United States Rubber Company took two floors in 1918, and the Carlisle Tire Corporation's general offices were in the building by 1920.
Importantly, magazine publishers comprised an important part of the tenant list. Among them were The Ladies' World, publishers of The Ladies' World and Housekeeper; Harpers' Weekly; and McClure's. (In fact, 251 Fourth Avenue was popularly called the McClure's Building shortly after its opening in 1910.)
Among the executives of the Castle Braid Company in 1915 was Augustus Latz. He was the proud father of two Cornell University seniors, Robert C., who was an engineering student, and J. M. Latz, who attended the school's College of Agriculture. The School of Engineering's graduation ceremonies took place on June 16. The previous day Latz, his wife, and two friends drove to Ithaca to attend the exercises. Unfortunately, Augustus Latz would not see either of his sons receive their diplomas. Fifteen minutes after he and his wife checked into their hotel room, Latz suffered a fatal stroke. He died without regaining consciousness.
An interesting tenant in the post-World War I years was The Better America Picture-Lectures. It offered pre-packaged lectures to church groups (ten in a set) with "colored lantern slides." Its ad in The Expositor in 1919 guaranteed, "You...will need only a brief preparation--and the first one will so advertise the others that you need have no empty seats in your audience."
The Aircraft Syndicate and its related concern, the Aircraft Construction-Transportation Corporation, moved into offices on the 11th floor in 1921. Its advertisement, printed in German, in the Staats-Zeitung on May 19 was headlined: "$20 for $1! This is a Fact!" The ad began, "Every German ought to invest his savings in this wonderful safe undertaking, New York-Chicago in giant Zeppelins in eight hours." It guaranteed, "Money cannot be lost. The future belongs to aerial navigation," and concluded, "Every millionaire started that way." It was signed, "Mr. Goognair, 251 4th av."
Suspicious, a reporter from the New York Herald visited the office. Mr. Goognair was not in, but the firm's president, Jean D. De Deltrand, granted an interview. Shown the ad, he said, "I'm glad you showed it to me. We're not responsible of course, inasmuch as our name is not signed thereto...Must speak to him about it." De Deltrand called Goognair, "a nice, energetic chap, but probably a bit too enthusiastic in his use of words."
Nevertheless, he assured the reporter that the firm was preparing to build "three airships of the Zeppelin type, 1,000 feet long." He explained that the trip from New York and Chicago would take ten hours and the "rate for a passenger will be $75, including berth and meals." (The fare would translate to about $1,300 today.) Additionally, to accommodate Chicago-to-New York passengers, the firm proposed to build a "great hotel in West Forty-second street, say about Tenth avenue" outfitted with a zeppelin landing platform on the roof.
Among Jean De Detrand's office staff at the time was bookkeeper Catherine C. Conlon. On July 11, 1921, De Detrand asked her to stay after hours "so that he could instruct her in the method he wanted followed in opening a new set of books," explained the New York Herald. Instead, De Detrand made "unmanly advances, and finally made an attack upon her," as described by The New Orleans States. Catherine fought him off, but, according to her, she "suffered greatly in mind and body." The Evening World reported that the incident caused her to suffer "a nervous breakdown."
In a desperate attempt to quell a potential catastrophic scandal, "Mr. de Detrand telephoned the girl's home next day, apologized and offered to defray the expenses of the girl, her father and her aunt, with whom she lived, on a vacation trip," reported The New Orleans States. Instead, Catherine filed a $50,000 suit against her employer. De Detrand denied the charges, saying he "was with her alone for the first time" that night, "and then for not more than ten minutes."
In the meantime, the Freed-Eisemann Radio Corporation, "manufacturers of high and low radio apparatus," occupied space here; as did the offices of the Reinhardt Manufacturing Company, which manufactured silk ribbons in Paterson, New Jersey; the Catoir Silk Company; and the publishers of Success Magazine. The Parents Publishing Company moved onto the 16th floor in January 1929.
The Depression brought a new tenant, the local Works Progress Administration offices. And political and social upheaval in Europe in the late 1930s and early 1940s prompted another type of renter. As early as 1941, the offices of the Jewish National Workers' Alliance were here. Among its operations was the administration of the Unser Camp and Kinderwelt, the organizations "summer home" at Highland Mills, New York.
Midcentury saw additional publishers in the building. Fur & Leather Worker magazine was here as early as 1948, as was the N. P. D. Corporation, which published periodicals like Modern Photography and National Photo Dealer. Exposition Press, which occupied space by 1950, created illustrated booklets like "How to Select a Publisher."
Abraham Liberman, head of Book Sales, Inc., narrowly escaped arrest in the summer of 1955. Another publisher, Samuel Roth, was indicted on August 20 "for sending obscene articles and publications through the mails." The New York Times reported that Abraham Liberman was "listed in the indictment" as a co-conspirator, but was not indicted.
The neighborhood was known as "Camera Row" in the 1950s, and among the related firms in 251 Fourth Avenue were Intercontinental Marketing Corporation, which distributed camera accessories; Nikon Incorporated; and Fuji Photo Optical Products.
Fourth Avenue was renamed Park Avenue South in 1959. By then, a different type of tenant had already started changing the personality of No. 251. The Federation of Protestant Welfare Agencies moved into the building in 1957, and The International Rescue Committee and its Medico Division were here by the following year. By 1968, the American Occupational Therapy Association and the Jess Ward Foundation occupied space.
The Crestwick-Hummelwert stood alone among the publishing, camera, and welfare organizations. The firm was described by The New York Times in 1965 as "distributor of Hummel figurines and other novelties."
Among the tenants in the 1980s were the architectural offices of Conklin & Rossant; the Young Adult Institute; and The Hinson Collections, manufacturers of high-end wall coverings.
Significant interior renovations to the building began in the late 1990s, and some exterior restoration was initiated. It was possibly during this work that the cornice was removed, leaving an unfortunate scar and an uncompleted look.
many thanks to reader Peter Alsen for prompting this post.


















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