The Lost Public School 177 - Market and Monroe Streets

 

photo by Jacob A. Riis from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

On November 22, 1898, the Board of Education's Minutes of the Committee on Buildings reported on tbe 15 school buildings currently being designed by in-house architect Charles B. J. Snyder.  On the list was Public School 177.  To be built on the southeast corner of Market and Monroe Street, it would include "36 classrooms, including two kindergarten rooms, physical and manual training rooms and roof playground."  Construction of the $241,000 building (about $9.6 million today) began in the spring of 1899 and was completed the following year.

Snyder blended Norman Revival and Tudor Revival styles in creating a striking brick-faced structure.  The main entrance within the chamfered corner sat above a flight of steps.  It was flanked by octagonal towers capped with Norman-style onion domes similar to those on the Tower of London.  Above the entrance was a triple-sided, three-story oriel capped with intricately carved cresting.  It included colorful stained glass at the second level.  Grouped openings flooded the classrooms with natural light, while the fifth floor erupted into a mountainscape of various sized gables.

The teachers and the principal of Public School 177, Mary L. Brady, creatively addressed the difficulties of instructing the diverse student body, most of whom came from other countries.  On January 26, 1907, for instance, the New-York Tribune reported on a game devised by the sixth grade girl's gym class: the Balloon Goal.  Two teams of 20 girls, one with a blue balloon and the other with a red one, tried to bat their balloon over the other team's goal.  The girls' physical culture teacher, Jessie H. Bancroft, explained to the journalist that the game was not only interesting, but called "for a large amount of physical activity."

The class's new game won a $50 prize offered by Mrs. Henry Siegel.  At the award ceremony, guests were entertained by the students.  "The glee club sang, the salute to the flag was given, and a class of little girls in red and orange aprons, orange kerchiefs and white peasant caps danced a Swedish dance that made a big hit," said the New-York Tribune.

Sixth grade girls play Balloon Goal (top) and perform a Swedish dance.  New-York Tribune, January 26, 1907 (copyright expired)

In addition to their regular studies, students participated in civic activities.  In 1905, for instance, The New York Times reported that the girls of P. S. 177 held "one of the biggest Arbor Day celebrations in the city."  They emulated "the tradition of the famous Hamilton trees [by planting] thirteen trees in commemoration of the thirteen original Colonies."  Three years later, on May 3, 1908, the newspaper reported that the girls had planted a "McKinley tree presented by Maude Adams" in front of the school building.

Principal Mary J. Brady took 130 female students to a session of the city aldermen on December 21, 1909.  Sitting in the gallery, they "were there to see the city fathers transact business.  Of the girls, 97 per cent were foreign born," said the New-York Tribune.

The following spring, the urban students were exposed to a very non-urban experience--the growing of vegetables.  Mrs. Russell Sage and six other socialites contributed $100 each to establish a "farm garden."  On May 29, 1910, The Sun reported that "earth was bought and spread over a part of the school yard to the depth of a foot and a half."  The area was divided into 55 plots, each one assigned to a class.  The article said, "This school has an enrollment of 2,400 children, the majority of whom have never seen the green country."

A girls' "physical culture" class exercises in the tenement-surrounded playground in 1901.  photograph by Jacob A. Riis from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Two months earlier, on March 3, Mayor William Jay Gaynor visited the school "to say 'good morning," according to him.  The "good morning" turned into "a speech in which he condemned certain east side philanthropies and magazine writers," reported The New York Times.  Aside from the photo op, the mayor was impressed with the students.

The article said that Mary L. Brady and "nine little girls" formed a guard of honor, "each bearing an American flag."  One girl stepped forward and said, "In the name of the teachers and scholars of our school we greet you, Mayor."

In the assembly room, 1,500 girls "rose and gave him the Chautauqua salute with their handkerchiefs."  The mayor witnessed the older girls in a debate "on whether South Carolina had a right to nullify an act of Congress."  The article said that Gaynor was especially interested in the "foreign class," composed of children who had been in the country less than six months.  A little boy stepped away from the others and said:

Mr. Mayor, we've only been in this country a short time, none more than six months, and some of us only one week.  But we have lost no time since landing in coming to this great school.  Some of us come from Russia, some from Italy, some from other countries, but in a short time we have learned how the City of New York is governed.

After curtsying, a girl stepped forward and said, "Mr. Mayor, we have learned to love you, and we love the policemen who protect us and are our friends."

Five months later, a discharged city employee shot Mayor Gaynor as he boarded the SS Wilhelm der Grosse in Hoboken.  The bullet lodged in the mayor's throat.  On October 4, 1910, the New-York Tribune reported on Gaynor's return to City Hall.  The article said:

Many flowers were received by the Mayor, but those he enjoyed most were brought in person by three little girls representing Public School 177...The committee was headed by Mollie Prate, six years old, who carried a bouquet of old-fashioned flowers, almost as large as herself.  She made a nice little speech to the Mayor, to which he replied kindly. 

The children had written a message that read, "It is our hope that every day will show how glad the people of our city are that you have been spared to them."

The playground, surrounded by the school and tenement buildings, was used by the Professional League in October 1912.  They staged "entertainments" and the admission fees went to "sending the children of the school to the country," explained The New York Times on June 28.

The terrorist group The Black Hand terrorized New York City in the first half of the 20th century.  On June 17, 1926, unfounded rumors of threats to the students spread.  The New York Times reported, "mothers of some of the 2,000 children in Public School 177...having heard of the excitement, came to demand their children.  Forty of them went to the principal, Miss May Gray, and said they had learned of Black Hand threats."  Gray persuaded them that there would be no trouble and, with police guarding the building, operations went as normal until dismissal at 3:00.

With the scare fresh in the minds of the students and faculty, a day or two later, Benjamin Portaro and Tony Marsicano, both 14 years old, cried "Black Hand!" in the corridor.  Janitor Joseph Borkowski was nearer than they realized and he chased them through the hallways and captured the boys.  On June 23 they faced Justice Samuel D. Levy in Children's Court.  Levy discharged them after Borkowski could not testify that he actually saw the teens yell the cries.  Nevertheless, Levy warned Portaro and Marsicano "to keep away from others."

In April 1932, the Board of Education converted Public School 177 to kindergarten-through-sixth grade.  The upper grades were transferred to the nearby Public School 1.

The influx of German immigrants that the Lower East Side had seen in the 19th century was echoed in the 1930s as refugees fled the Nazi regime.  On April 3, 1938, The New York Times reported that the flood of refugees from Germany and Austria had caused "many new problems" for the city's schools.  The article said the newcomers were "clamoring...to absorb in the quickest possible time the language, culture and customs of their newly adopted land."  Public School 177 was designated as one of two "set aside for refugees."  Here "special classes are conducted for the foreigners who are finding an asylum here," said The New York Times.

The Lower East Side's widely divergent ethnic make-up continued to be reflected in the student body after midcentury.  On November 29, 1965, The New York Times reported, "Down on the Lower East Side in the crumbling castle-like structure that is Public School 177, Miss Sheila Shankman's fifth grade class has published a book."  The Melting Pot Cook Book included students' handwritten recipes.  They were mimeographed and stapled together.  The article said:

Darlene Lamont's recipe for creeping crust cobbler ("because it tastes good and was an easy recipe to copy") vies for space with Vicky Del Rio's ship's noodles ("A German dish my mother learned from her mother and makes once in a while") and Charles Giambrone's avgolemono soup ("My mother is Greek").

The collection reflected the changing demographics of the neighborhood.  The article said, "The proximity of Chinatown to P.S. 177 explains the predominance of oriental recipes in the cookbook."

from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Within a few years of that article, Charles B. J. Snyder's romantic school building, suffering from old age, was demolished.  On June 10, 1973, The New York Times reported that the Coleman Square Playground would be expanded "onto an adjacent lot, the site of the old Public School 177."  

The James Condie Drugstore Building - 166 Eighth Avenue

 

Around 1844, a brick-faced house and store was erected at 166 Eighth Avenue between 18th and 19th Streets.  Three stories tall, its Greek Revival design included a single-doored residential entrance flanked by pilasters and four-paned sidelights.  A commodious transom allowed natural light into the foyer.  The building's six-over-six-paned windows sat upon plain brownstone sills and wore understated stone lintels.

Archibald Donnelly operated a tavern here in 1845, but his venture was short lived.  As early as 1848 James Condie and his family lived in the upper floors.  He was a partner in the Gabaudan & Condie apothecary that now occupied the store.

The drugstore was a vehicle for an enterprising chemist in September 1848.  His ads appeared throughout the Northeast saying:

Messrs. Gabaudan & Condie, Druggists, No. 166 Eighth Avenue, state that this past summer they sold Mr. Lawrence, a Police Officer, six bottles of Dr. Roger's Liverwort and Tar.  His wife afterwards called upon them, and said that her husband had been, for some time time, lying very low with Consumption, and that the Physician and their friends had despaired of his recovery; but by the use of the above six bottles, he was restored to perfect health.  She says she has no doubt but that it was the above Medicine alone which cured him.

James Condie was born in Perthshire, Scotland.  Both he and his wife, the former Sarah Ellen Harrison, were born in 1820.  In addition to running the drugstore, he volunteered as a "laddie" at Laurel Hose Company, No. 30 on West 27th Street.  Five children would be born in the Eighth Avenue house--Sarah Ellen in 1849, Mary Catherine in 1854, Ellen Condie two years later, Samuel Harrison in 1859, and Ella Grace in 1862.

As was common, the Condies rented a room in their home.  In 1851 Jane E. Percy lived here.  She was a teacher in Colored Primary School No. 3 on West 15th Street.  The following year Underwood Montgomery rented the room.  He was a mechanist and a sexton of the West Twenty-Third Street Presbyterian Church.  Montgomery would remain with the Condies at least through 1856.

James and Sarah Ellen would suffer grief while living here.  On December 7, 1857, little Ellen died 21 days after her first birthday.  And Samuel Harrison Condie died at the age of one year and 11 months on February 2, 1861.  The miniature caskets of both children sat in the parlor until their funerals.

In 1866, Condie sold the building and the business to Robert Blackburn.  He commuted from his home in New Jersey while James Whittet, who apparently worked for Blackburn, occupied the upper portion of 166 Eighth Avenue.  Born in 1833, Whittet and his wife, Catherine Loehmert, had four children.  The Whittets' residency would be rather short-lived and by 1864 David J. Hughes, a policeman, lived here.  He was followed by Thomas Ormiston, a native of Skirling, Peebleshire, Scotland, who died in the house at the age of 57 on August 27, 1866.

Beginning about 1873, the Webster family lived above the drugstore.  William Webster was a carpenter and Charles ran a liquor store or saloon next door at 168 Eighth Avenue.  William changed profession and in 1876 was listed as a policeman.

That year Robert Blackburn and two other druggists fell victim to con artist James Nagle.  On April 21, 1876, the New York Herald said, "His trick is an old one."  Nagle would ask for five cents worth of salts and give the druggist a five dollar bill.  "When the change was given he claimed that it was $1 short and demanded $1 extra," explained the article.  Police caught up with Nagle and charged him "of swindling."

Like the Condies had done, the Websters took in a roomer.  Mary Scott House moved in with the family in November 1877.  Described by the New York Evening Express as belonging "to one of the best families in the State," Mary House was in desperate straits.  A few weeks earlier, on October 23, she had married Elijah S. House ("a member of an aristocratic family in Troy," according to the New York Evening Express).  The newlyweds checked into the New York Hotel.  The newspaper reported that House, "left the hotel on November 1st, saying he was going to get some money, and did not return.  Four or five days after she received a letter from him telling her to go back among her friends, and she then found he had abandoned her."

The Websters may have given Mary House a room out of sympathy.  The New York Evening Express said, "All the money [House] gave her since her marriage was fifty cents."  She complained to the police, who finally found and arrested Elijah S. House, who was living with Emma Scott at 186 Thompson Street.

House defended his actions saying, in part, that Mary had told him "she was worth money in her own right," but after their marriage he discovered she was "deeply in debt and wanted him to pay her debts."  Additionally, "her temper became so irritable that he could not live with her."  Surprisingly, Justice Bixby discharged House because he had lost his job and could not support his wife.  He told Mary, "that she could have her husband rearrested whenever she was able to prove he was earning any money."

In February 1878, Robert Blackburn had a more serious concern than swindling to worry about.  His clerk, Edward Wall, filled a prescription for Sophia Brown.  The 20-year-old was pregnant at the time.  Dr. Bremen later said he prescribed ten pills that contained, in total, "one-fifth of a grain of Hyoscyamus."  (Hyoscyamus is a toxic plant used in small doses to treat nervous disorders or problems with sleeping.)  Instead, Wall put one-fifth of a grain of the poisonous ingredient into each pill--ten times the prescribed amount.

Sophia Brown took one of the pills at 7:00 on the evening of February 12 and died within an hour.  Dr. Bremen went to the Blackburn drugstore and discovered Wall's mistake.  Rather astonishingly, on February 19 a coroner's jury decided that Robert Blackburn and Edward Wall were innocent of malpractice.  The New York Times reported that the jury felt that Sophia Brown died "from a miscarriage, and that they knew not whether it had been brought about in an artificial or natural manner."

John Alexander Whittet had lived above the store in 1866 as a five-year-old while his father, James Whittet, worked in the Blackburn pharmacy.  In 1882, now a young man, he purchased the drugstore.  He had inherited $10,000 from his father's estate the previous year.  (The figure would translate to a considerable $325,000 in 2026.)  Whittet was originally successful, but a failed romance led to his downfall.

Four years later, on December 15, 1886, The New York Times reported, "He was paying attentions to a young lady living in Carlton-avenue, Brooklyn, but their engagement was broken off."  According to relatives, Whittet went on a drunken, year-long spree.  The New York Times said, "He did a good business until he contracted habits of intemperance."  Under pressure from relatives, he agreed to "become an inmate of the Christian Home for Intemperate men, but he withdrew his consent." 

In order to "save him from complete destruction," as worded by the newspaper, "his relatives interposed."  On December 14, 1886, police arrested John Alexander Whittet from behind the counter of his drugstore.  His grandmother, Margaret Ormiston, had "charged him with being an habitual drunkard," said the article.

Daniel R. Woollett, a printer, obtained the property shortly afterward.  Born in London in July 1838, he came to America in 1851.  An employer of the printing firm Styles & Cash, Wollett was an active member of the Masonic Tabernacle Lodge No. 598.  He and his family moved into the upper floors of 166 Eighth Avenue.  

At the same time, the Van Valkenburgh & Rickey drugstore took over the ground floor space.  That partnership dissolved in 1889 and August Weber took over the shop for his grocery business.  He moved in with the Wollett family.

Weber was chosen as a jury member in 1899 in one of New York City's most famous murder cases.  Roland Burnham Molineux attempted to eliminate a romantic rival, Harry Seymour Cornish, by poisoning a bottle of Emerson's Bromo-Seltzer with cyanide of mercury.  Instead, Cornish's cousin, Katherine Adams, took the medicine for a headache.  She died within a few minutes.  (The court case resulted in a landmark ruling that restricted prosecutors from presenting evidence of previous crimes.)

August Weber's grocery store was pointed out by The Evening Post in July 1902 as one of the outlets within Manhattan deemed by Dr. R. A. Witthaus of Cornell University Medical College as having, "pure, wholesome, and reliable food products."

Daniel R. Woollett died on October 30, 1904 at the age of 66.  His funeral was held in the parlor of 166 Eighth Avenue two days later.

The former Weber grocery store space was leased to Daniel Reeves, Inc. in April 1915.  The name was familiar to New Yorkers and this store would be one of hundreds of Daniel Reeves groceries throughout the New York City area.

Renting a room here in 1917 was Irish-born Margaret T. J. Curley, who worked as a stenographer.  The fiery-tempered woman attended what the New-York Tribune described as "a soapbox meeting of the Friends of Irish Freedom" at Broadway and 35th Street on August 29 that year.  What started as a peaceful protest ended in anything but that.  The New-York Tribune began an article saying, "Heads were broken, women trampled and eight persons arrested last night in two riots which followed the attempts of the police to disperse a crowd of three thousand persons."

Enraged after three orators were hauled off the platform by police only minutes after starting speaking, Margaret T. J. Curley jumped into action.  The New-York Tribune reported, "A woman, madly shrieking that she was a suffragette, leaped to the platform, tore off her hat and began waving the [Irish] flag."  The article said, "Miss Curley was arrested."

The Daniel Reeves grocery store was the scene of an armed robbery on March 26, 1927.  The New York Times reported that two armed men, "forced the manager, John Cleary and a woman customer, to the rear, rifled the till of $300 and escaped in a waiting automobile."

In 1929, an Art Deco storefront composed of Vitreous enamel panels was installed.  By 1938, Freddy's Food Market had supplanted Daniel Reeves in the store.  With Prohibition repealed, in 1938 the grocery obtained a license to sell beer and wine.  

In 1941, the Greek Revival entrance, the six-over-six windows and the modest cornice were intact.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The second half of the 20th century saw a decline in the Eighth Avenue neighborhood.  But a renaissance at the turn of the century saw trendy shops and restaurants filling the storefronts.  La Chinita Linda, a Cuban-Chinese restaurant, occupied the ground floor of 166 Eighth Avenue.  Richard Laermer's 2002 Native's Guide to New York said it "has fab black beans."

Distressingly mutilated today, only the Flemish bond brickwork and now-painted brownstone lintels and sills of 166 Eighth Avenue survive to testify of the building's venerable history.

photographs by the author

Louis Entzer Jr.'s 1892 121 East 95th Street

 

In two phases, real estate operator Francis Joseph Schnugg nearly filled the north blockfront of East 95th Street between Lexington and Park Avenues with 17 rowhouses.  The second group, completed in 1892, was designed by Louis Entzer, Jr.  (The first was the work of architect Fran Wennemer.)  Included in Entzer's row were 119 and 121 West 95th Street, which he designed as a mirror-image pair.

Faced in brownstone, the three-story-and-basement homes were just 16-feet wide.  A broad, shared stoop divided by an iron railing disguised their narrowness, as did the wide arched parlor windows.  Entzer further united the pair by placing the round-arched doorways into a single frame.  Pilasters with elaborately carved capitals flanked the entrances from which a molding rose to embrace a shared carved rondel.

Even more eye-catching were the sheet metal oriels at the second floor.  They were decorated with fluted pilasters, neo-Classical swags, and a triangular pediment.

When three of the group--Nos. 113, 119 and 121--had not sold by October 25, 1892, Schnugg apparently dropped the price.  He advertised:

Positively the Cheapest private houses in New-York, three-story and basement, brownstone; all private block; high ground...for only $17,000.

The price would translate to about $621,000 in 2026, and the reference to an "all private block" meant that there were deed restrictions that prohibited commerce on the block.

For some reason, 121 West 95th Street still did not sell.  Schnugg leased the house and each time the lease expired, he advertised the 14-room house for sale again.  In 1893, he upped the price to $17,250, stressing it was "worth $21,000" and he would include the gas fixtures.  He tried again in April 1895, and finally found a buyer in the Pilgrim family.

The Pilgrims apparently purchased the house as an investment and, like Schnugg, continued to lease it.  Living here in the post-World War I years was Julia Pabst Bader, the widow of Henry Bader, who died in 1922.  Julia was the daughter of the German-born dry goods merchant Martin Pabst.  She and Henry had one daughter, Laura.  Julia Bader died here on December 5, 1929 at the age of 76.

When Linda Pilgrim sold the house in June 1945, The New York Times remarked that it "had been in the same family for more than fifty years."

Small panes, a touch of the Queen Anne style, still outlined the upper sashes of the oriel in 1940.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

No. 121 East 95th Street became home to the Dr. Theodore Burg Russell family.  Born in Queens, New York in 1903, Russell graduated from Princeton University in 1928 and Columbia University's College of Physicians and Surgeons in 1930.  His wife, the former Rhoda Reddig, was a nurse and his second wife.  He had three daughters, Mary, Katherine and Phoebe, from his first wife, Mary Learned Peltz (who was also a nurse).

Russell was apparently suffering from intense stress in the early months of 1951.  At 4:45 on the afternoon of February 7, he boarded the Staten Island ferry President Roosevelt during a snowstorm.  A few minutes before the vessel would have docked at St. George Terminal, Dr. Russell "walked out of the cabin and plunged over the port rail," reported The New York Times.  The ferry was stopped and, as reported by The Staten Island Advance, "Three ferrymen had to put out in a lifeboat on choppy, rain-swept waters."  The New York Times said, "When he was pulled from the water, he shouted, 'I want to die.'"  As the lifeboat returned to the ferry, a deckhand had to restrain Russell from jumping back into the water. 

Dr. Russell had chosen the most inconvenient time--rush hour--to attempt suicide.  The Staten Island Advance reported, "The incident created a flurry of excitement in the harbor when three police boats, a Coast Guard cutter and a fireboat were rushed to the scene under the impression the ferry was in distress."  And The New York Times added that the incident "delayed the craft more than a half-house and interrupted rush-hour ferry service from Manhattan and Staten Island."

Dr. Theodore Burg Russell and Rhoda Reddig Russell relocated to Ann Arbor, Michigan by the early 1960s.  Rhoda became dean of the School of Nursing at the University of Michigan there.  Surprisingly, 121 East 95th Street became home to Russell's previous wife, Mary Learned Peltz, and their two unmarried daughters, Katherine and Phoebe.

On June 19, 1963, The New York Times reported on Katherine Eveleen Russell's marriage to Benno Charles Schmidt Jr. in the Brick Presbyterian Church.  Her sisters, Mary White and Phoebe, were matron and maid of honor, respectively.  The article mentioned that Katherine had graduated from the Nightingale-Bamford School and Bennett College.

Two years later, nearly to the day, The New York Times reported on Mary Peltz Russell's marriage to Lewis Perry Jr.  The erudite groom was headmaster of the Fountain Valley School in Colorado Springs, and had attended Milton Academy, Phillips Exeter Academy, Harvard College and Oxford University.

Still a single-family home, 121 East 95th Street has undergone few exterior renovations and remains an integral part of the charming streetscape along this block.

photographs by the author

The John Schermerhorn Bussing House - 4 East 12th Street

 

The son of Abraham and Hester Kingsland Bussing, John Schermerhorn Bussing was born on Cortlandt Street on October 15, 1802.  His two maternal aunts had married into the prominent Schermerhorn family, prompting his middle name.  Bussing formed a dry goods business, E. & J. Bussing, with his brother, Edmund.  Following Edmund's death 26 years later, John changed course, founding the iron and nail firm, John S. Bussing & Company.  He married Agnes Ann Speir in 1825 and the couple had a son, Robert Speir, who was born in 1826.  Agnes died in 1831.

Two years later, John married Ann Van Nest in her parent's home.  The couple, with young Robert, moved into the Van Nest home, once the summer mansion of Sir Peter Warren.  A son, Abraham VanNest Bussing was born in 1834 and John Stuyvesant Bussing arrived on September 21, 1838.  Sadly, Abraham died at the age of five in 1838.

Around 1845 John S. Bussing and Peter R. Bonnet, most likely close acquaintances, began construction of matching brownstone-faced residence at 154 and 156 Twelfth Street, respectively.  (The addresses would be altered to 4 and 6 East 12th Street in 1855.)  Twenty-five-feet wide and four stories tall above English basements, they held their own with the mansions rising on Fifth Avenue just steps away.  Next to the floor-to-ceiling parlor windows, the entrance sat within a striking portico, its fluted columns capped with complex palm leaf capitals.

John Schermerhorn Bussing, Genealogies of the State of New York, 1915 (copyright expired)

In 1848, not long after moving into their mansion, the Bussings' only daughter, Mary, was born.

John Bussing was active in the public schools.  As early as 1850, he held the position of Chairman of Section No. 1 in the public and primary school system.  

John Schermerhorn Bussing died in the East 12th Street house on June 9, 1864 at the age of 62.  His funeral was held in the parlor two days later.

Robert Speir Bussing had joined his father's business as a young man.  He married Mary Kingsland on January 8, 1850 and at the time of his father's death the couple was living in Brooklyn.  

John Stuyvesant Bussing had served in the Civil War.  By now he was a partner in the banking and brokerage firm Gelston & Bussing and still lived with his mother and sister at 4 East 12th Street.

John Stuyvesant Bussing, Genealogies of the State of New York, 1915 (copyright expired)

John married Kate Breath in 1873.  In what must have been unspeakable emotional anguish for John, Kate died in childbirth the following year, as did the couple's twin daughters, Kate and Anne.  He married Emily Morton Jenkins on October 31, 1882.  The couple lived with Ann and Mary at 4 East 12th Street.

It was acceptable for even well-to-do and socially prominent families to take in a boarder and in 1873 Henry C. Overin, the proprietor of the Phoenix Stables on West 46th Street, lived with the family.  He was separated from his wife, Mary, whom he married in 1865.  The New York Times explained that for a few years, "they lived unhappily."  Overin lived here through 1880, and it would not be until his death in 1898 that his name appeared in newspapers.  When both Mrs. Mary E. Overin and a decidedly younger Mrs. Caroline Overin laid claim to Henry's estate and business, the wealthy stable owner's duel life came to light.

In the meantime, John Bussing was highly involved with church and civic activities.  For decades he was a member of the consistory of the College Reformed Church.  He would, additionally, become one of the board of managers of the Young Men's Christian Association and of the Young Women's Christian Association.  In 1877, he was among a group of gentlemen who hoped to reform alcoholics.  On May 27, The New York Times reported that the men "have issued an appeal for assistance to enable them to establish a home for the reformation of drunkards."

Mary, who would never marry, was the victim of a pickpocket on March 2, 1882.  The New York Times reported that as she "was looking at the window of a Broadway store," James Harvey "rifled the sack pocket" of Mary Bussing.  The article said, "The only plunder he secured, was a card-case containing some cards and a few postage stamps."

Both Mary and Anne were active in philanthropic and charitable causes.  Anne's father, Abraham Van Nest, had been a trustee of Rutgers College and Van Nest Hall there was named in his honor.  In 1898, Anne "built a stone porch to Van Nest Hall and also refitted the eastern portion of the second story into a handsome hall for the use of the students in elocution," reported the New-York Tribune.  She was a generous benefactor of the Theological Seminary in New Brunswick and established the Bussing Prize there.

Mary Bussing was a founder of the Christmas Letter Mission.  The group endeavored to brighten the holidays of orphans, the indigent, prisoners, and hospitalized patients.  She explained in a letter to the editor of the New-York Tribune on December 15, 1887, "these beautiful letters, with a bright card inclosed [sic], are sent as a surprise on Christmas morning to the suffering ones."  She noted, "Twenty-five cents will send six of these sunbeams into lonely hearts."

John and Kate Bussing moved to 26 East 10th Street in 1886.  Now only Ann and Mary remained in the East 12th Street house with their staff of servants.  After a "severe attack of pneumonia," as reported by the New-York Tribune, Ann Van Nest Bussing died in the mansion at the age of 93 on January 8, 1905.

In 1918, Mary Bussing sold the house that her parents had built seven decades earlier and the only home she had ever known.  On February 23, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported, "Samuel Marcus...contemplates altering the 4-story brick and stone dwelling at 4 East 12th st., into studios and apartments."  The cost of the renovations, said the article, would be $15,000, or about $312,000 in 2026.  Plans filed by architects Jonathan B. Snook Sons included "remove stoop and [install] plumbing."

The renovations, completed in 1920, resulted in bachelor apartments.  The term did not mean that tenants were not restricted to men, but that the apartments did not have kitchens.  

Among the initial residents were Joseph P. Dugan, an engineer, and English-born D. Frank Gordon.  On October 25, 1920, the two men went uptown to join a rally by gubernatorial candidate Dudley Field Malone.  Professor Walter Edgerton Holloway first addressed the crowd and things began getting tense when, as described by The New York Times, the speaker "harangued a crowd of 5,000 Irish sympathizers near the Maine Monument."  Joseph Dugan remarked to Gordon, "Edgerton is a poor speaker, I wish Malone would hurry up and talk."

The New York Times said that the "casual remark to a friend was misinterpreted."  The Evening World reported that an Irishman in the crowd instead heard, "to the devil with Lord Mayor MacSwiney."  (MacSwiney was the former Lord Mayor of Cork.)  The article said, "An Irishman punched Gordon and a yell went up, 'He cursed MacSwiney!'"  The New York Times reported that Dugan and Gordon were beaten and Dugan "nearly lost his life at the hands of a mob."  Happily, police officers were on hand to rescue them.

In 1927, the newly-formed Institute of World Unity moved into the building, presumably in the basement level.  An educational and cultural organization, its goal was to promote racial tolerance and international peace.  By 1930, it also published World Unity Magazine from the address.

The institute was followed by The Meeting Place, Inc. around 1931.  A renovation by architects Beineix & Snyder in 1934 better accommodated the organization.  The Meeting Place now occupied the basement and first floors, and the upper floors held apartments.

The stoop and portico of 6 East 12th Street was originally a match to the one removed from No. 4 in 1918.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Among the first tenants in the renovated apartments was artist Reginald Marsh, who was recently divorced.  He moved into the building in February 1933.  Born in Paris in 1898, Marsh would become noted for his depictions of New York City life, like unemployed men on the Bowery and lively Coney Island boardwalk scenes.

In January 1934, Marsh married painter Felicia Meyer and, according to Ellen Wiley Todd in her New Woman Revised, the couple left 4 East 12th Street that month.  Apparently Marsh retained his studio here, however, because when he won a cash prize in the 122th annual exhibition of the National Academy of Design in 1937, his address was still listed at 4 East 12th Street.

Another renovation, completed in 1952, resulted in a "business office" in the basement and apartments on the upper floors.  Among those living and working here in the 1960s were composer, librettist and lyricist Marcus Samuel Blitzstein, and painter and printmaker Betty Waldo Parish.  Later television and documentary producer David E. J. Berger and his collaborator and wife Holly Maxson lived and worked here.

Despite the loss of the stoop and parlor entry, 4 East 12th Street survives remarkably intact above the basement level.  Today, the building, with its remarkable history, holds eight apartments.

photographs by the author

The Renovated Edison Illuminating Co. Station - 30-32 Horatio Street

photograph by Anthony Bellov

 

In 1881, the streets of New York City, like those of metropolises throughout the world, were illuminated by gas lamps, each one manually lit by a lamplighter.  Mass transportation was accomplished by horse-drawn streetcars, stages, and smoke-belching elevated trains.  But that was all about to change.  

Thomas Alva Edison received a patent for a practical incandescent light bulb on January 27, 1880.  New York City wasted no time in embracing the innovation and hired Edison to electrify Manhattan.  On December 17 that year, he established the Edison Illuminating Company, which would tackle the task of creating generating stations throughout the city.

The New York Edison Company recalled in its 1903 Thirty Years of New York, "One of Edison's most far-reaching ideas, in planning for the incandescent illumination of New York City, was his scheme of a distribution system which should be located entirely underground, free from all atmospheric disturbances and from other interferences to which overhead wires might be subjected."  Edison divided the city into sections, each about a square mile.  Each would receive an electrical generation station, the first of which was the Pearl Street Station that opened on September 4, 1882. 

The project progressed rapidly.  On January 15, 1898, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that the "4-story double tenement" at 30-32 Horatio Street (between West Fourth and Hudson Street) had been sold for $16,000.  The following year, on July 23, the New York Journal and Advertiser reported, "The Edison Electric Illuminating Company is to erect four fire-proof branch stations."  One of them would be at 32 Horatio Street, costing $23,500.  (The construction cost would translate to about $945,000 in 2026.)

The station opened in 1900.  The Edison Electric Illuminating Company's in-house architect had produced an attractive, utilitarian structure.  Although technically only three stories tall, the soaring ceilings inside made it nearly the equivalent of a five-story structure.  Above two short stoops were large entrances within a rusticated stone base.  They were similar to the carriage bays of livery stables and were flanked with windows.  The architect gave them splayed lintels, inspired by the current Colonial Revival trend.  The unadorned, brick-faced upper section was capped with a dentiled, pressed metal cornice.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Thirty Years of New York described:

It is equipped with three 500 and two 1000 kilowatt rotaries, 2150 kilowatt synchronous motor-generator sets, and two batteries.  Here, also are the offices of the company's battery department.  Horatio Street station serves a varied class of business.  On the west, it takes care of the shipping and wholesale work of the river front and on its east, it feeds into the southern end of the department store region.

The Edison Illuminating Company was acquired by Consolidated Gas in 1901.  Five years later, the Horatio Street building was renovated, but the changes were, apparently, mostly to the infrastructure and equipment.  Working here at the time was Frank de Benedetto, a "foreman on excavation jobs," according to The Sun.  Among his workers was Enrico Ciucci, who, along with "a score or more of Italians," appeared at the Tombs Police Court in March that year to press charges against Benedetto.

The Sun explained that Ciucci, "alleged that he paid $5 to Benedetto to hold his job...He said the payment was made in the present of Attillio Capuli...and others."  (The extorted money would equal about $185 today.)  Ciucci and the other immigrant laborers quickly discovered that their boss had powerful and dangerous ties.

On June 17, 1906, Justice McKean dismissed the case.  The Sun reported that the complaining workers "have practically all disappeared."  The article said, "When Capuli was needed to testify in Special Sessions, he could not be found," adding, "None of the original score or more of complainants could be reached by subpoenas."

A 1914 advertisement depicted the locations of the many Edison sub-stations.  The New York Sun, May 12, 1914 (copyright expired)

In 1936, the firm's name was changed to Consolidated Edison.  In November that year, the owner of the tenement building next door at 26-28 Horatio Street sued for $40,000 in damages saying that the "sub-station at 30-32 Horatio Street is a public nuisance," as reported by The New York Times.  The owner complained that the dynamos "create a continuous noise and that the vibration from machinery has shattered the brickwork of the tenement house."  

A Consolidated Edison representative was cavalier in his response, saying that the station had operated on the site for years and "is used only for the transfer of current from the main plant."  He dismissed the damage to his neighbor's property saying, "Any injuries suffered by the plaintiff is small compared to what would result to the public if the operation of the sub-station were stopped."

On December 11, 1966, The New York Times reported, "Two Consolidated Edison power stations that provided electricity to Greenwich Village residents for more than a half century will soon have dwellers of their own."  The article explained that the stations would be converted to apartments saying, "Every effort is being made to retain the quaint look of old Greenwich Village."

A Colonial-style entrance and faux gas lanterns were intended to recreate Greenwich Village charm.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

The Times said that 30 Horatio Street "will contain 16 one-bedroom and living room-bedroom combination flats."  The renovation, completed in 1967, eliminated the stoops and original entrances.  An off-set doorway with a neo-Colonial frame with an arched pediment was installed, new openings cut, and the upper floors painted.  In keeping with the colonial motif, the single-paned double-hung windows were given multi-paned sashes.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

The 1902 The Braender Apartments - 418 Central Park West

 

image via streeteasy.com

Born in Germany, Philip Braender arrived in New York as a youth.  At the turn of the last century, he was a visible player in the development of the Upper West Side.  In 1901 he commissioned architect Frederick C. Browne to design a ten-story "brick flat" at the southwest corner of Central Park West and 102nd Street.  Browne's plans projected the construction cost at $400,000--a significant $15.6 million in 2026.

Completed the following year, The Braender's French Renaissance design was splashed with Spanish Baroque Revival touches.  Clad in gray brick above the two-story stone base, The Braender's turret-like rounded bays and corbeled cornice were inspired from French chateaux and gave the building an exotic charm.  A lacy cast iron balcony girded the third floor and intricate Baroque-style terra cotta ornaments decorated the third, fourth and tenth floors.  At the ninth were balconies "capped with red Spanish tile in strong contrast to the prevailing color," as described by The World's New York Apartment House Album.

The World's New York Apartment House Album, 1910 (copyright expired)

The Braender's H-shape plan created a deep courtyard, which was entered "through a high columned archway, elaborately carved and ornamented," as described by The World's New York Apartment House Album.  Residents entered under a glass and iron marquee into a coffered ceilinged foyer that opened into a veined-marble lobby.

There were typically three apartments per floor ranging from five to twelve rooms with one to three baths.  Rents ranged (by today's conversion) from $1,650 to $3,300 per month.  An advertisement boasted that The Braender was "not exceeded in dignity and architectural beauty by any similar structure."

The World's New York Apartment House Album, 1910 (copyright expired)

The Braender's tenants were affluent and professional.  Among the early residents were Charles Herbert Stoddard and his wife, the former Frances Henrietta Thebault.  An attorney, Stoddard was also the president and director of the Builders' Construction Company.

Also in the building at the time were Carlos Benito Figueredo, Consul General of Venezuela, and his wife Louise Calcafio.  The New-York Tribune called Louise "one of the belles of Caracas."  The couple had one child, Gloria.  On May 5, 1907, the New-York Tribune reported that the Figueredos "celebrated their silver wedding last night at their home."  The article said that there were  a "hundred or more guests at the dance and dinner."

Mrs. A. Guiterrez, a widow, lived here with her daughter, Lola, as early as 1914.  Like all their moneyed neighbors, they summered in fashionable resorts.  They traveled to Winthrop, Maine during the first week of July that year.  About a week later, on July 13, they attempted to walk across the train trestle near the hotel.  The New York Times reported that they "were struck and killed tonight by a train on the Main Central Railroad."  The article said that the horrific incident occurred "in the view of guests on the hotel piazzas and in boats on the lake."

On February 22, 1920, the New-York Tribune reported that the new owner, Frederick Bangerter, had "devised a tenant ownership plan for the Braender."  The plan to convert the building to a cooperative moved forward with lightning speed.  An advertisement a month later urged, "own a select apartment in a palatial home, with all the modern comforts--steam heat, hot water, day and night elevator service, etc., etc."  Fifty of the apartments had been converted while, according to the advertisement, "The income of the remaining 25 apartments pays in full for taxes and all other running costs and charges."

Surprisingly, by the time Wurts Bros. took this photograph, the iron cresting had been removed from the cornice.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

The Braender's most celebrated tenants at the time were the Stoner family.  Dr. James Buchanan Stoner was born in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania in 1861.  He was known nationwide for his work against epidemics, starting with the smallpox epidemic of 1888.  He married educator Dr. Winifred Sackville on February 3, 1900 and their only child, Winifred Sackville Stoner Jr. was born in 1902.  (Because her daughter, who would earn prominence on her own, bore her identical name, Dr. Stoner was often referred to as Mother Stoner.)

Winifred Jr. was a prodigy.  Under her mother's tutelage, she was able to speak multiple languages by the age of ten.  At the age of nine, she passed the Stanford University and University of Wisconsin-Madison entrance exams.

On December 26, 1921, the Stoners announced their 19-year-old daughter's marriage to Charles de Bruche.  The couple was married in the Stoner apartment four months earlier, "with none but the family present," explained The New York Times.  The article said, "Miss Stoner wishes to avoid publicity having as a young girl had columns published about her education, the books and the verses she had written and the eight languages she could speak before she was twelve years old, owing to her mother's remarkable system of education."  The newlyweds, said the article, "will divide their time between Paris and New York when they are not traveling."

Winifred and Charles de Bruche were in Mexico the following summer.  De Bruche had told his bride "that he was a composer, poet and member of a noble French family, entitled to call himself a count," according to Winifred Jr.  Less than a year later she told a reporter that she learned "that he was not of noble birth and was not a person of good repute."  De Bruche disappeared and in August Winifred received a telephone call from his friend, Frank Davis, telling her that her husband "had been killed in Mexico City" in an automobile crash.

On September 1, the New-York Tribune reported, "Funeral services for Charles Philippe de Bruche, husband of Winifred Sackville Stoner jr., were held yesterday at 418 Central Park West, the home of his wife's parents."  The ceremony was, apparently, more accurately described as a memorial service, since there was no body.

Dr. James Buchanan Stoner died on July 22, 1925.  In reporting his death, The New York Times recounted his long history of fighting epidemics throughout the United States.  It noted, additionally, that he was a relative of President James Buchanan.

The Braender's heavily-veined marble lobby remains virtually intact.  image via cocoran.com

After Winifred Stoner de Bruche married Louis Hyman, her mother continued to occupy The Braender apartment.  In 1925 she was a member of the Citizens' Committee for Music and published the monthly Mother Stoner's Bulletin, which outlined the Stoner philosophy of education.  In 1925 she founded the League for Fostering Genius.

On August 21, 1927, a reporter from The New York Times visited Mother Stoner's apartment for information about her daughter's divorce from Louis Hyman.  She said that she hoped Winifred would join her "to carry on the work of helping young genius."  And indeed, the mother and daughter initiated "a genius hunt covering all the United States and most of the Western Continental Europe" that month, as reported by the newspaper.

Mother Stoner explained to the reporter that there "are six classes of people:

Idiots, she said, were like jellyfish and common weeds; destructionists were often clever but dangerous, like the boll weevil and poisonous weeks; morons were like pigs and vegetables; the hyper-morons (or norms) were those with 16-year mentalities with whom the world is largely filled...The only two classes worth preserving were the geniuses, she said...and the progressionists or builders.

(She explained that progressionists included "men who constantly seek to make their business more efficient."  They included "newspaper men, bankers and highway robbers.")

The following month, on September 20, 1927, The New York Times reported, "'Mother' Stoner returned from Philadelphia yesterday to her home at 418 Central Park West.  She reports that she discovered six geniuses and 300 talented children during her Philadelphia stay."  The article added, "Winifred 2d is now in Paris, looking for geniuses there, her mother said."

Now divorced, Winifred Jr. moved back to 418 West Central Park West.  She received an arcane telephone message in November 1929, "suggesting that she go to the lobby of the Hotel Ansonia."  She did and saw her long-dead husband, Charles de Bruche there.  The New York Times said that he "was living at the Hotel Bretton Hall."  On December 12, the newspaper said she had filed suit to annul her marriage because she "finds herself still the wife of De Bruche."

This photograph of Winifred Jr. may have been taken in the Braender apartment.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

In 1931, Winifred Jr. married Earl Winston Harrison and moved to Los Angeles.  Later that year, on November 10, Winifred "Mother" Sackville Stoner died in her Braender apartment at the age of 49.  In reporting her death, The New York Times listed her books, which included Natural Education, Mother Stoner Nursery Rhymes, Arithmetic Through Play, Games With Aims, and Castles in Spain.  

Somewhat overshadowed by the Stoners in the building were prominent residents like Dr. Maurice H. Harris and his wife, the former Kitty Green.  Born in London in 1859, Harris was ordained a rabbi in 1882.  He had been rabbi of Temple Israel since 1885.  On February 8, 1925, the congregation hosted a tea and reception in appreciation of his 40 years of service.

Dr. Sergius Ingerman lived here as early as 1934.  That year he sent a telegram to President Franklin D. Roosevelt that said in part, "We implore you to use your influence to bring about the cessation of the mass executions in Soviet Russia."  Born in Russia in 1868, Ingerman was a specialist in eye diseases and a member of the American Academy of Ophthalmology and Otolaryngology and the New York Academy of Medicine.  

Dr. Sergius Ingerman, from House of Wisdom

More importantly, he was highly active in the socialist movement and a founder of the Russian Social Democratic Society.  His wife, Anna Amitin, died in 1931.  Their only child was Dr. Eugenia Ingerman.  Interman remained in The Braender until his death in 1943.

That year the building was sold to New York Savings Bank, which reconverted it to rental apartments.  The New York Times reported that it "was remodeled by the bank into eighty-eight suites."

Among the residents at the time were Dr. Walter L. Hervey, a retired member of the Board of Examiners of the Board of Education, and his wife Antoinette Bryant Hervey.  Antoinette was described by The New York Times as the "dean of women photographers in New York."  

A graduate of the Clarence H. White School of Photography, Antoinette Hervey made a 25-year photographic record of the construction of the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine.  In doing so, she sometimes climbed the scaffolding high above the ground to get her shots.  In 1938 she donated her 3,000 prints to the Cathedral and a duplicate set to the New-York Historical Society.

John Thompson and his wife lived in a sixth-floor apartment here in the mid-1960s.  Thompson was a director of the Fairfield Foundation, which promoted international cultural exchanges.  Through that institution, the couple became acquainted with Nathan Nakasa, a 25-year-old Nigerian journalist who arrived in America in 1964 as a Neiman Fellow at Harvard University. 

Nakasa was an outspoken critic of Apartheid.  In his homeland he had edited The Classic, a literary magazine, and was on the staff of the magazine Drum of Johannesburg.  While here he wrote two pieces for The New York Times Magazine.  In 1965, after his one-year fellowship, the South African Government refused to allow him to return home.

The writer, who was living on Lenox Avenue, was understandably depressed.  On July 24, 1965, The New York Amsterdam News wrote, "Told of Nakasa's mood, Mr. and Mrs. John Thompson of 418 Central Park West, asked him over to their apartment Tuesday."  The article said that they talked about his troubles "at length" and attempted to ease his mind.  But shockingly, at around 9:10, Nakasa rushed to a window and jumped.  He died instantly.

Tonal composer Ben Weber lived here within the next decade.  Born in St. Louis in 1916 and never married, he came to New York in 1945.  Among his compositions were the Symphony on Poems of William Blake, the Violin Concerto, the Consort of Winds and the Concert Aria After Solomon.  The celebrated composer died of a heart attack in his apartment at the age of 62 on May 11, 1979.

photograph by Jim Henderson

Nine years before Weber's death, The Braender underwent an alteration.  It was likely at this time that the spectacular cornice was removed and ninth-floor balconies stripped off, leaving the once picturesque structure sadly denuded.