The 1846 Ellis C. Finch House - 60 Horatio Street

By 1850 Ellis C. Finch and his bride, the former Anna Maria Van Natter, had moved into the newly-completed house at No. 60 Horatio Street between Hudson and Greenwich Streets.  The couple did not hold the deed, however.  It was the property of Ann Maria's father, Peter Van Natter, who not only lived next door at No. 62, but had developed the plots.   A cartman, he and Cornelius Ackerman (who lived on the opposite side of the Finches) had purchased the land in 1845 and a neighborhood builder, Abraham Demarest was responsible for constructing the five Greek Revival style homes.

Three stories tall above a brownstone basement level, the homes were clad in red brick and trimmed in brownstone.  The were given simply embellishments, like the handsome sidelights and paneled transoms of the entrances.  

The opposite side of the block was still undeveloped and years later The Sun recalled that when the Van Natters moved into their house "the land opposite his house was used as a cow pasture, and his wife objected to the new home because it was so far from the city."

Like his father-in-law, Ellis C. Finch was a cartman--a deliveryman who drove a horse-drawn dray.  He and Ann would have five children while living here, Sara, born in 1853; Ella in 1858; Carrie who came along in 1862; Harry in 1865 and William born five years later in 1870.  

Nevertheless the couple periodically found space for a roomer, almost always a cartman.  In 1853 Daniel H. Vanderpool roomed with the family; in 1855 and '56 it was Moss Y. Dunn.

Tragedy came to No. 60 Horatio Street on March 16, 1860.  Little Ella Clarinda (whose middle name was the same as her maternal grandmother) was two months shy of her second birthday when she died.  On the day of her funeral the house filled with member of the Odd Fellows Perseverance Lodge No. 17 of which Ellis was a member.

Thomas Jefferson Van Natter was Anna Finch's only sibling.  He lived with their parents next door.  On February 28, 1867 he married Elizabeth Onderdonk (known as Libbie).  It seems that the bride and groom were cousins.  Peter Van Natter's wife was the former Clarinda Onderdonk.  A child, Charles H., was born on March 11, 1868.  

The marriage seems to have sparked a swapping of residences.  The following year Peter and Clarinda were living with the Finches at No. 60; but by 1870 Thomas and his wife joined his parents in the No. 60 and the Finches had moved to No. 62.  It was a perplexing arrangement.

Peter Van Natter was retired by now.  Born in Orange County in 1803, he and Clarinda were already married when he came to New York around 1828 at the age of 25.  They settled in Greenwich Village and never left.    

Thomas Jefferson Van Natter was born on January 4, 1845.  He went by his middle name (or sometimes by T. Jefferson), and was in the coal business at No. 73 Wooster Street.  Ardently religious, for years he sat on the board of the Church Extension and Missionary Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church.

The elderly Peter Van Natter had seen enormous changes to Greenwich since the days when cows grazed across from his house.  One day in April 1891, according to The Sun, he commented to Clarinda, "I have outlived all the old Ninth warders.  I go around the streets and never see a face which was here in the old days."  A few days after making the remark Peter Van Natter died in his sleep on April 14 at the age of 88.

Losing her husband may have been too much of an emotional toll on Clarinda.  Two months later almost to the day, on June 15 she died in the house at the age of 84.  Her funeral was held in the parlor two days later.

The house was inherited jointly by Anna Finch and her brother.  Just two weeks after their mother's death Anna transferred her share of No. 60 to T. Jefferson.

He and Libbie took in a roomer by the end of the year.  An advertisement appeared in The Sun on December 15, 1891 which read:

Horatio St., 60, near Hudson, convenient 14th st. station--Nice large hall room, $1.50; private family.

The reasonable rent would equal about $43.50 per week today.

By the first years of the 20th century the Van Natters had moved to Brooklyn and No. 60 was being operated as a rooming house.

Michael Burke, who lived here in 1911, was affluent enough to afford a motor car.  It got him into trouble with police on June 24 that year, however, when he was fined $2 "for letting his car smoke."

The house was owned and operated by Ruth Fifer Davis by the 1920's.   She received a minor windfall in March 1925 when she inherited her mother's estate of $2,550.  The amount left her by Adaline Fifer would be equal to about $37,200 today.

Among her roomers at the time were the widowed Lorette Dumphy and her son, William.  A year earlier William was hailed as a hero in all the local newspapers.  Early on the morning of June 5, 1924, he had seen flames in a lodging house at No. 332 West 30th Street.  The Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported "Rousing 15 sleeping roomers and warming them, at the risk of his own life, that the lodging house in which they lived...was on fire, William Dumphy, 28 years old, of 60 Horatio st., was so badly cut by the ragged edges of window panes, which he smashed in with his fist, that every sinew of his wrist was severed, shortly before 7 o'clock."

Policeman Walter Rose applied a tourniquet made from the cord of his nightstick.  William received a hero's fanfare and enjoyed adulation despite his badly wounded wrist.

Lorette Dumphy examines her son's wounded wrist.  The Daily News, June 6, 1924

Lorette had a second son, James, who was three years younger than William.  He too appeared in newspapers after a fire, but for far different reasons.  On August 15, 1931 the Daily Star reported "Mrs. Lorette Dunphy [sic], 60 Horatio street, Manhattan, told police that her son started five fires in her home on Tuesday morning.  The fires were extinguished, she said, before they had an opportunity to spread and damage was comparatively slight."

Lorette, however, had no intentions of letting her firebug son go free and turned him in.  Dumphy admitted he started the fires, but said it was an accident and he "had no intention of burning the house."  He explained that he was carrying a lantern which exploded.  The resultant spray of burning kerosene set the five separate fires.  The police were unconvinced.  Detectives asserted that "they found the lantern intact" when they investigated his story.

Ruth Fifer was still renting rooms in No. 60 in 1940.  One of her tenants, Carl Chapman, prompted a headline in the Daily News on March 20 that year:  "You Figure It Out."

At 5:40 on the previous morning, a policeman happened upon the 24-year old.  The article said "He was singing.  There was a radio on his shoulder.  In his pockets were a veal cutlet, a quarter pound of butter, salt and pepper shakers, and an alarm clock set to go off at 6 A.M."  The patrolman found it "pretty puzzling" and since Chapman could not explain any of it, he was charged with disorderly conduct.  It ended happily for the cutlet-carrying young man when the judge let him off with a suspended sentence the following day.

The house is little changed since this photograph around 1941.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

A less understanding judge was Anna Kross.  Alfred Keating was a longshoreman  who lived in No. 60 on March 19, 1944 when he appeared before Magistrate Kross in Felony Court.  He explained that when he beat another longshoreman, Gastis Manesis, to death on March 10 it was a case of self-defense.  She ordered the 36-year old held without bail for trial.

The Peter Van Natter house next door, at No. 62, has fared less well than Nos. 58 and 60. 

A renovation completed in 1971 resulted in an apartment in the basement below the single family residence.  When it was placed on the market in 1991 the realtor listed three bedrooms, and six fireplaces in the main house and made special note of the "pumpkin-pine floors" in the basement apartment.  It sold for $990,000--about $1.86 million in today's money.

photographs by the author

The 1893 Phillips-Appel House - 127 West 80th Street

 

Real estate developers Giblin & Taylor began construction on a row of eleven rowhouses on West 80th Street between Columbus and Amsterdam Avenues in 1890.  Designed by the architectural firm of Neville & Bagge, they would be a blend of styles--Renaissance Revival, Romanesque Revival, and a splash of Northern Renaissance.

The basement and parlor levels of No. 127 were essentially Romanesque in design and faced in undressed brownstone blocks.  A three sided bay provided a balcony to the second floor where Renaissance Revival took over.  Above the cornice a stylish slate-shingled mansard sprouted a formal dormer with fluted pilasters and a triangular pediment.

As the row neared completion on February 11, 1893 the Real Estate Record & Guide said they "stand as monuments of their artistic taste in selection of of the plans and mechanical skills in construction...All of them are four-story houses, and all have butler's pantry extensions, some extending two stories above the basement.

The houses boasted the latest in amenities.  "Messrs. Giblin & Taylor speak with special emphasis about the plumbing in their houses, and with perfect propriety," said the article.  The kitchens were supplied with "Mott's French range, with copper boiler, porcelain sink, and exposed hot and cold water pipes."  The walls were wainscoted to the ceiling and the area behind the sink (what would be called a splash back today) was marble.  "The range is bricked in with red pressed brick that is carried to the ceiling."

There were three other rooms in the basement level--the pantry, the laundry (which included the dumbwaiter, a servants' closet and porcelain tubs), and a wainscoted front room with parquet flooring.  "This room may be used either as a breakfast or billiard room," suggested the Record & Guide.

The parlor level featured a mahogany vestibule where the double entrance doors could be put "out of evidence" into recesses during warm days.  The interior vestibule doors led to the main hall, also paneled in mahogany and fitted with a French pier mirror.  The "balcony staircase," said the article, was "partly secreted behind a fine fretwork drop arch."  Mahogany pocket doors opened into the parlor and dining room.  "In harmony with the hall, the parlor or salon is trimmed in mahogany, with high baseboards, heavy carved mouldings, a neat fretwork arch in the division from the dining room, and a mantel, also in mahogany, of special and artistic design."

No. 127 saw a quick succession of investor-owners until around 1895 when it became home to Esther Sands, the widow of Abraham Sands, and her daughter, Anna. 

The wealthy Sands family had relocated from Denver.  Abraham Sands and his brothers had established the dry goods business of Sands & Boyce in Montana in 1866.  When he moved his family to Denver in 1881 he was head of that firm, as well as president of the Sands Cattle & Land Company, which owned about 8,000 head of cattle.  The Helena Weekly Herald said "he was ranked among the millionaires of the Northwest."  The Sands' idyllic lives had changed on July 7, 1887 when the Helena newspaper ran the headline "Abraham Sands, the Well Known Dry Goods Millionaire and Cattle King, Cuts His Own Throat."  He was 52 years old.

On November 30, 1898 the New York Journal and Advertiser reported that Anna Sands and S. Henry Phillips had been married the previous evening in Sherry's ballroom.  Anna's brother, Sylvester, and her sister, Theresa S. Appel, came from Denver.  Sylvester gave the bride away.  The New York Times added "Mr. and Mrs. M. S. Appel of Denver, brother-in-law and sister of the bride, came East to attend the wedding.  It noted "Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, on returning from their wedding trip, will make their home with Mrs. Sands, at 127 West Eightieth Street."  

Theresa and her husband never went home to Denver, suddenly bringing the population in Esther Sands's house to five adults.  S. Henry Phillips was an attorney and Moses S. Appel, who had been a partner with his brothers in the Denver clothing firm Appel Clothing Company, now partnered with Sylvester Sands in the clothing firm of Sands & Appel on Broadway.  The extended family shared a summer home in Far Rockaway.

It was there on August 12, 1903 that Esther died after a lingering illness at the age of 63.  Although Theresa bought out her siblings' shares of the 80th Street house in December 1905, Anna and Henry Phillips continued to live with the Appels.  By now the Appels' grown son, Willard, and his wife and daughter were also living here.

Like most wealthy women, Theresa Appel was highly involved in charitable works.  She hosted a meeting of members and directors of the Denver-based National Jewish Hospital for Consumptives in the house on February 11, 1909.  The Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported "an organization was formed, consisting of members of the hospital, which called itself the New York Auxiliary to the Denver National Hospital for Consumptives."

On October 22, 1911 the family received a scare.  Riding in Willard Appel's automobile that day was his daughter, May, and A. F. Day, apparently visiting from Pittsburgh.  On the Central Park Drive Appel's vehicle collided violently with a taxicab.  The New York Herald reported "Mr. Appel, his daughter and Mr. Day were thrown out of their machine, receiving severe bruises."  Appel's chauffeur and the taxi driver "made charges of reckless driving against each other" and both were taken to Night Court "to determine the responsibility."

Unlike his uncles and father, Willard did not go into the apparel business, but into real estate.  A 1908 graduate of Cornell University, he was president of the Long Branch Bungalow Corporation and vice president of the Kolb Portable Building Company.  

In 1918 The Cornell Alumni News noted "During the war the latter company sent a large number of portable buildings to France and Italy, constructed fifty-four huts in Eastern and Southern Camps for the Y.M.C.A...and supplied various departments of the Government with sundry portable buildings."  The article noted that Willard and his family were preparing to leave No. 127 West 80th Street and move permanently to Far Rockaway, New York.

On November 1 that year the family had electrical work done.  The C. M. O'Connor company sent William B. Taylor to the house to do the work.  When S. Henry Phillips arrived home, he discovered a ring and bar pin were missing.  He told police they were worth $1,000--or about $17,000 in today's money.  Investigators searched Taylor's home and found a number of pawn tickets and a police lieutenant's uniform.  The Sun explained his scheme, saying he "plundered apartments where he worked as an electrician by day, and then dressed himself in the uniform of a Lieutenant and disposed of the loot at night."

In 1920 Theresa Appel sold No. 127.  It was immediately converted unofficially to upscale apartments.  Among the initial residents was Mrs. Harry Umbsen.  On December 16, 1921 The Sun reported "A series of afternoon teas are being given on the five Thursdays of this month for a portrait painter of Paris, the Marquise de Fraysseix Mazieres, by Mrs. Harry Umbsen...in her apartment at 127 West Eightieth street."

Also living here were Cuban-born Frank Gonzales and his family.  When the engagement of son Frank Jr. to Josephine de Miranda was announced on October 8, 1922, the New York Herald noted "Mr. Gonzales father has large sugar plantations."

An unnamed bachelor gave a party in his apartment on June 13, 1926.  Several young men and women attended and, at least by housekeeper Josephine Jeanette's estimation, their fun got out of hand.  She found Patrolman August Inella on the street and asked him "to quiet the racket of their music and dancing," said the Daily News.

Inella went to the apartment and told the group to quiet down.  But no one took him seriously.  "The patrolman declined the girls' invitation to join the party," said the article.  "The girls refused to stop.  So they all went to the West 80th st. station house to stay for the night."  The next morning the girls, sisters Vera and Agnes Webster and Mitzi Shubert, were found guilty of disorderly conduct, but given a suspended sentence.  They were clearly instructed by the judge, "There is a time and place to play ukuleles."

Marion and John Hackett lived here at the same time.  They, too, appeared in a courtroom, but for far more serious reasons than ukulele playing.  Marion had previously been convicted of forgery.  Now, in October 1927, both she and John were arrested after she forged the name of Gladys Baker on a check to obtain "cash and phonograph records," according to The Sun.  John was charged with being an accessory.  He was jailed in The Tombs while Marion went to the Jefferson Market prison.

It was a serious charge.  A second conviction of forgery in 1927 would result in a mandatory life sentence for Marion.  She narrowly escaped the fate.  Calling her "a pretty brunette," The Sun said Judge George L. Donnellen had agreed to accept a lesser charge.

A renovation completed in 1969 resulted in a duplex apartment in the basement and first floor, and one apartment each on the upper floors.  Among the residents in 1973 was Michael Schultz, an award winning film and stage director.  He received an Obie Award and the Drama Desk Award for Best Direction, and was nominated for a Tony Award in 1969.

A subsequent renovation joined the second and third floors into a duplex, resulting in a three-family home.  Despite replacement windows and an inexplicable coat of brown paint, the residence greatly retains its 1893 appearance.

photographs by the author

The Lost Cornelius Roosevelt House - 849 Broadway

A cropped view of a stereopticon depiction of Lincoln's funeral procession shows the Roosevelt house, its portico columns wrapped.  Two observers perch perilously on the roof.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

By the 1830's the northward expansion of the city was inching toward 14th Street.  A banker, Samuel Ruggles, spearheaded the creation of Union Square in 1832--intended to be an exclusive enclave of upscale homes surrounding a tranquil fenced garden with a central fountain.   Following the park's completion in 1842 the surrounding lots filled with handsome residences of moneyed families.

Among the most distinguished was the Greek Revival brownstone mansion of Cornelius Van Schaack Roosevelt, on the southwest corner of Broadway and 14th Street.  Born on January 30, 1794, Roosevelt descended from an early Dutch settlers.  He married Margaret Barnhill in 1821.   The couple had six sons, Silas, James, Cornelius Jr., Robert, Theodore and William.

According to the New-York Tribune he "was liberally educated."  Following his graduation from Columbia College he joined his father's hardware business.  Upon the death of his father, James Jacobus Roosevelt, on August 13, 1840, Cornelius inherited a large fortune and continued the family's hardware business.

The house Cornelius built for his family was a commodious free-standing structure, four-stories tall above an English basement.  It faced Broadway rather than Union Square.  Roosevelt owned the entire blockfront to 13th Street and the parcel to the side of the mansion originally contained spacious gardens.

In his 1919 The Life of Theodore Roosevelt, William Draper Lewis quoted the President and grandson of Cornelius saying "Inside there was a large hall running up to the roof; there was a tessellated black and white marble floor, and a circular staircase round the sides of the hall, from the top floor down.  We children much admired both the tessellated floor and the circular staircase."

The Roosevelt family was well-established in the house by 1847 when Margaret, as an officer of the Colored Orphan Asylum, listed her address as "Broadway, corner Fourteenth street."  Decades later, in 1921, Corinne Roosevelt Robinson remembered her grandparents in the February issue of Schriber's Magazine.

Cornelius Van Schaack and Margaret Barnhill Roosevelt, whose old home on the corner of 14th Street and Broadway was long a landmark in New York City.  Cornelius Van Schaack Roosevelt was a typical merchant of his day, fine and true and loyal, but ultraconservative in many ways; and his lovely wife, to whom he addressed, later, such exquisite poems that I have always felt that they should have been given more than private circulation, was a Pennsylvanian of Quaker blood.

in 1850 Cornelius brought his son, James A. Roosevelt, into the firm, which was now named Roosevelt & Son.  The New-York Tribune later explained that at that time "the business was changed from hardware to plate glass." 

On January 23, 1861 Margaret Roosevelt died in the brownstone mansion at the age of 61.  According to the New-York Tribune, upon her death Cornelius "withdrew entirely from the business, having amassed a princely fortune."  He continued to share the house with his son, James A. Roosevelt and his family.  (James had married Elizabeth Norris Emien in 1847 and they had four children, Mary, Leila, Alfred and William.)

The two little boys peering at the Lincoln procession from the side window of the second floor are presumed to be the future President, Theodore Roosevelt and his brother Elliot.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

Cornelius Roosevelt's vast fortune was reflected in an article in the Galaxy in May 1868.  It listed the names of "ten men as the owners of one-tenth part of the taxable property of New York."  Among millionaires like William B. Astor, Peter Lorillard and Peter and George Goelet was C. V. S. Roosevelt, who owned the equivalent of $25 million in Manhattan property by today's standards.

On the morning of July 17, 1871 Cornelius V. S. Roosevelt died in his country residence in Oyster Bay, Long Island after an illness of just two days.  He was 78 years old.  By now the Union Square neighborhood was seeing significant change as commercial interests took over many of the mansions.  It did not take Roosevelt's heirs long to abandon the family home.

On September 13, 1872 architect Griffith Thomas filed plans for an eight-story cast iron building on the site for the Domestic Sewing Machine Co.  His striking Second Empire style structure survived until 1928, replaced by the Emory Roth designed 20-story building that survives (albeit significantly altered).

image via rebusinessonline.com

Buchman & Deisler's 1891 15-23 Waverly Place (aka 250-256 Greene Street)

 

The flurry of development taking place in the former upscale residential neighborhood just east of Washington Square was in full swing in 1890.  All around elegant brick-faced homes erected for the likes of Cornelius Vanderbilt I were being razed to be replaced by substantial loft buildings.  On June 28 alone the Real Estate Record & Guide reported on the sale of a dozen properties on Greene Street and on Waverly Place.  Among them were six houses at the corner of Greene and Waverly Place purchased by developer and builder Jeremiah C. Lyons.  He paid the equivalent of $10.5 million for the parcel which, said the article, "is to be improved with a large business building."

And indeed it was.  Lyons hired the architectural firm of Buchman & Deisler to design six loft structures that would appear as one.  Their plans, filed in March, included clever innovations.  The Record & Guide reported "There will be a courtyard in the middle of the plot about 40 feet square, with elevators and platforms on each side, and an entrance on Greene street.  This feature will enable the firms occupying the buildings to do all their loading and unloading of goods on the inside, and at the same time prevent blockades on the street."

The article added "Still another important feature will be the erection around the building on the courtyard of an iron platform, in which the water and waterclosets will be located, thus keeping water out of the main buildings and preventing the destruction of goods by overflows, besides securing good sanitary results."  The cost of the brick and stone-trimmed structure was projected at $280,000, bringing Lyon's total outlay to around $18.7 million in today's money.

The building filled with millinery and clothing manufacturers.  Among the earliest and largest was Hirschberg & Co., makers of hats and caps, including its Victor Headwear brand.  Gustav Hirschberg had founded the firm in 1871 and his son, Sidney G. Hirchberg, joined the firm in 1891, the same year it relocated to Waverly Place.  At its "immense factory" here, as described by The American Hatter, it produced "cloth, straw and felt" men's hats.

Other early tenants in the massive complex were H. M. Bloch & Brother, makers of "trousers and breeches;" Glueckman & Gross, boys and children's wear manufacturers; and John R. Walker, importer of Irish linens like shirt fronts and handkerchiefs.  The Clothier and Furnisher called Walker in 1896, "a gentleman of Irish extraction, pleasant-faced, and most amiable to meet...He gives the small man the advantage of a few yards of shirtings when he needs them, and an order for two or three dozen of handkerchiefs is never passed by."

The Clothier & Furnisher, July 1896 (copyright expired)

Organized labor was increasingly a thorn in the sides of factory owners in the 1890's.  Firms who stood fast against the demands for reduced hours, more humane working conditions and better wages, often saw their workforce walk out.  The power of the individual unions was increased when the various branches joined forces.  Peavy Brothers discovered that in the spring of 1893 when a strike that seemed to have nothing to do with its factory hit home.

On March 23 The Evening World reported "A breach between the Manufacturers' Association and the United Garment Cutters has widened.  To aggravate matters the attitude of the Knights of Labor and the United garment Cutters has now become one of openly-declared hostility."  The article said "A strike of thirty men has been declared at Peavy Brothers, 15 and 17 Waverly place, because the firm refused to comply with the request of the Garment Workers Union to promise to support their workingmen during the threatened lockout."

The Unexcelled Mfg. Co. produced children's wear here.  The Clothier & Furnisher, January 1896 (copyright expired)

A decade later Hirschberg & Co. was shut down.  On December 22 the associated cap and hat makers unions initiated a city-wide walk-out.  This time management did not concede to what the firms felt were excessive demands.  Three months later, according to Men's Wear, "The strike has cost workmen $220,000" in lost wages.  "It seems bosses gained all points demanded, but will remove the open shop placards."  ("Open shop" signs announced that non-union workers were accepted.)

While the unions were guaranteed that none of the striking employees would be fired, the settlement agreement did not include any pay raises or reduced hours, and noted that employers could "engage and discharge whomever they see fit and "no officers or delegates of the union to visit the shops."  

Men's Wear magazine, March 1905 (copyright expired)

Sidney Hirschberg immediately released a statement promising his customers "We are in a position to fill all orders promptly...We are in a better position that ever before to turn out work promptly, because of the new conditions under which the men are working."  The factory employed around 114 workers, mostly men.

Gross & Weiss employed an even larger workforce in its women's apparel factory.  But unlike Hirschberg & Co., the majority of its 171 workers were female.  Two of them were greatly annoyed with their foreman, Morris Waldman in the winter of 1909.  On December 17 The New York Call reported "Bertha Elkins was sent to the workhouse and Bessie Schechter was fined $10 on the charge of throwing rotten eggs at Morris Waldman."

Elevator malfunctions in the early 20th century were common and the Waverly Place building was not immune.  On May 24, 1915 The Daily Standard-Union reported "Leopold Korn, 54 years old...was operating a freight elevator at 17 Waverly place, Manhattan to-day, when the cable broke, Korn falling three stories."  Luckily he suffered only a broken leg in the accident.

The buildings continued to house millinery and apparel forms in the years following World War I.  In 1919 the Fine Hat Manufacturing, one of the early tenants, was still here, as were Hirschberg & Co., and Marshall's, Inc., hat makers.

It appears that Hirschberg & Co. was not above knocking off other firms' designs.  A help-wanted advertisement in 1923 sought "millinery copyists on misses' and children's high grand hand made hats."

In the 1930's and '40's tenants included Siegal & Glass, men's clothiers; the Arkay Dress & Sportswear Manufacturing Company; the Cloth Headgear Manufacturing Company; and Philip Dann Clothing Company.

Philip Dann Clothing made uniforms for the United States Army.  Its factory was understandably operating at full steam during the World War II years.  Until the last quarter of the 20th century workers were paid in cash, each receiving a pay envelope once a week.  It was a system that invited disaster as crooks, who knew that once a week the large payroll would be withdrawn from the bank, would spy on the comings-and-goings of employees to learn the routine.

On February 5, 1943 the Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported "Two gunmen today followed Abe Spitalnik, 25...office manager of the Philip Dann Clothing Company...into the elevator there and robbed him of the firm's payroll of $5,800."  The heist would be nearly $86,000 in today's money.

The renaissance of the district around New York University in the 1970's arrived here in 1972 when the upper floors were converted to apartments--24 per floor.   

By 1977 the Village Skating Rink was in the building.  On December 23 that year the Daily News wrote "The disco music blares, and the roller skaters rock to the beat.  They slide...they glide...round and round they go, singly, in pairs, in groups, nearly always smiling.  They scene is Village Skating, (15 Waverly Place) and the action is pure and simple with teenagers, young adults and a sprinkling of older adults sharing the space as they wheel around the rink."

In 1979 Syncopation opened in one of the ground floor spaces.  The Daily News reported on June 27 "So there is yet another jazz club, Syncopation, at 15 Waverly Place just off Washington Square Park.  It's a long, narrow room with walls taken down to the bricks and, for those who will be impressed, white tablecloths."

Other businesses over the next decades would be the Star of Siam Thai food restaurant in the early 1980's; Club Paradise in the late '80's and early '90's; and the Apple Restaurant, which opened around 1993 and remained more than a decade.  Today the White Oak Tavern occupies most of the ground floor.

photographs by the author

The Edson Horton House - 207 West 18th Street

 

Born in Yorktown, New York on July 7, 1816, Edson Horton listed his occupation as a "carman" in the mid-1850's.  Most likely he owned and operated a delivery firm, rather than merely being a driver, for he was affluent enough to afford the three-story home at 129 West 18th Street (renumbered 207 in 1868), just west of Seventh Avenue.  Faced in running bond red brick and trimmed in brownstone, the Greek Revival residence would have had a short stoop.   The offset openings suggest that a horsewalk, or passage to the rear yard, tunneled through where the current ground floor entrance is.

Horton and his wife, the former Amanda M. Strang, had two children, Herbert, born in 1848, and Anthony born two years later.  Like many families they took in boarders.  The number of them, often around four, suggest that some of them lived in the smaller building in the rear yard.

Several of the Hortons' boarders stayed on for years, like Stephen Smith, who was listed as a clerk in 1853 but had advanced to "soaps" in 1855.  He would remain at the address for more than two decades.  His business on Washington Street would expand to "fancy soaps and blueing" by the 1860's.

The other boarders in 1855 were William Gilmore and James Riddle, both carman; and James Gillespie who either had no profession or stubbornly refused to list it.  Gilmore and Riddle were quite possibly employees of Horton.  Like Smith, Gillespie remained here for years, at least through 1868.

In the spring of 1869 Edson's sister, Phebe Jane Fowler, came from Yorktown for a visit.  What was no doubt a joyful reunion turned devastating when the 43-year old died in the house on May 30.  Her body was transported back to Westchester County for the funeral and she was buried in the Presbyterian Ground in Yorktown, where Edson and Amanda would also be interred in 1891 and 1896 respectively.

The Edsons sold No. 207 to Robert J. Kay around 1872.  Kay was a partner in James Kay & Co., butter dealers at No. 135 Washington Street.  He and his wife, Sarah, inherited two of the Edsons' boarders.  Stephen Smith was still here, as was carpenter Alexander McFarlane, who was first listed at the address in 1867.  The other two boarders in 1872 were Charles Mason, a driver, and James Clayton, a tailor.

Robert and Sarah welcomed a baby boy in August 1872.  Tragically, Henry Estwick Kay died only five weeks later.  Friends and relatives filed into the 18th Street house on September 25 for the infant's funeral.

James Collins purchased the house by 1887.   He had brought his wife and daughter from Philadelphia presumably to open a branch of his business here.  Like their predecessors, the Collins took in boarders.   In 1887 the colorful bachelor Charles W. Gardner took rooms.  The arrangement was most likely a result of his and James Collins's mutual memberships in the Munn Lodge No. 190 of the Freemasons. 

Gardener fashioned himself as a private detective.  He was the right-hand man of reformist minster Rev. Charles Henry Parkhurst, the president of the New York Society for the Prevention of Crime, better known as the Parkhurst Society.  Parkhurst and Gardener would disguise themselves and haunt the most sordid streets of New York, gathering evidence of brothels and "vile resorts."

Gardner (rear) and Parkhurst in disguise, poised to gather evidence.  The Doctor and The Devil or Mid-night Adventures of Dr. Parkhurst, 1894 (copyright expired)

When a romance began blooming between Gardener and Florence A. Collins, her father may not have been overly enthusiastic.  Gardner was not only eight years older than his teen-aged daughter, but was divorced.

During a period when Dr. Parkhurst was being accused of frequenting brothels for his own lascivious gratification, Gardner left the Parkhurst Society to join the Sabbath Observance Society.   James Collins was in Philadelphia on May 14, 1892.  Gardner was having lunch at the Astor House when he suddenly decided to marry Florence immediately.  According to The Press, "He chopped his fork suddenly, jammed his hat on, hurried to the Bennett building, rushed in upon [Stephen W.] Brague and asked him to act as a witness.  Brague was willing and was told to be at the Liberty Island boat at 3 o'clock."

What followed was what The Press called "a queer wedding."  Florence and her mother, the Rev. A. H. Cladin, Gardner and Brague, took the ferry to the Statue of Liberty.  They climbed to the head and waited patiently for a break in the line of tourists.  When it came, the clergyman said "Now is the time."  The New York Herald reported "They were standing in the chin of the statue directly over the jugular vein, but the bronze goddess didn't seem to mind it in the least.  The ceremony didn't take more than five minutes and it was just over when more visitors arrived."  The bride was 18-years old and her husband 26.

from The Doctor and The Devil or Mid-night Adventures of Dr. Parkhurst, 1894 (copyright expired)

Five months before the unorthodox ceremony the 18th Street house had been the scene of a funeral.  The family of Wilmot M. Dunning also boarded in the Collins house.  Born in Middletown, New York in 1833, Dunning had come to New York City as a young man.  He served in the Civil War, earning the rank of captain.  Immediately upon returning to New York he found a job with the Erie Railroad.  The 59-year old caught a cold early in 1892 which worsened to pneumonia on January 13.  He died in the house five days later.

Lormain Vetter rented rooms here by 1896.  The 55-year old had worked as a blacksmith for the Knickerbocker Ice Company for 28 years.  But his health failed that year and he was forced to quit his job.  According to his son, William, he "had become melancholy and despondent."  On Sunday morning, February 20, 1897, Vetter was struck and killed by an elevated train at the Cortlandt Street station of the Sixth Avenue line.

Suicide in the 19th century was considered ignominious and reflected badly on the surviving family.  Members routinely covered up the act publicly.  The New-York Tribune reported that William Vetter "says that his father had become weak from illness, and was clumsy in his walk as a consequently.  He thinks that his father stumbled and fell in front of the train."

In 1920 the building's owner converted the ground floor to business.  The top two floors were now described in Department of Buildings documents as "storage."

via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

A subsequent renovation completed in 1984 resulted in a duplex apartment above the store space.  For several years, at least from 1991 through 1996, the store was home to a branch showroom of Home Works.  The firm sold kitchen and bathroom cabinetry and fixtures.

Home Works was followed by Lobel Modern, run by Evan Lobel.  Its offerings were described by Stephen Treffinger of The New York Times as "an unusual mix of midcentury modern originals."  Decorators could find items here like the pair of 1950's ceramic lamps fabricated in Italy which were priced at $2,200 in April 1999.

The clothing store Ina, one of four shops in Manhattan, was in the space by 2012 and still remains.  

photographs by the author

The 1903 Engine Co. No. 32 House (today Engine 6) - 49 Beekman Street

 

In the first years following the end of the Civil War the Second Precinct Police station house stood at No. 49 Beekman Street, between William and Gold Streets.  By the mid 1880's it had been converted to city offices, home to the City Public Administrator and Corporate Attorney.

At the time Engine Company 32 operated from John Street, but its facility became obsolete by the turn of the century.  In June 1902 the architectural firm of Horgan & Slattery filed plans for a three-story and attic "brick and stone wagon house for the Fire Department."  The projected cost was $35,000, equal to just over $1 million today.

The Fire Department's official architect since 1880, Napoleon LeBrun, had died the previous year.  The more than 40 structures his firm designed for the department set a high bar, putting handsome design on equal footing with functionality.  

Horgan & Slattery met the challenge with its Beaux Arts style design for Engine Company No. 32.  The rusticated base was decorated with a carved, stylized Greek key frieze, interrupted by a large keystone and two voissoirs.  They upheld an intermediate cornice and entablature which announced the Engine Company's name.  The brick-faced midsection was dominated by a two-story elliptical arch framed in stone.  It terminated in deeply recessed spandrels which overflowed with carved ornamentation.  The flanking piers were decorated with French style cartouches and stone panels.  Above the bracketed cornice the top floor took the form of a copper-clad mansard.

In 1906 34-year Thomas Lennon joined the department.  He lived on Staten Island where he had been a volunteer firefighter.  He had made his living as a stenographer in a bank, but always wanted to be a professional firefighter.  When offered an assignment on Staten Island, he asked to be sent to a Manhattan house instead.  Less than a year later, on January 6, 1907, he was among the nine men of Engine Company 32 responding to fire in a paper warehouse on Roosevelt Street (replaced by the FDR Drive beginning in 1929).   They were joined by other companies as the inferno worsened.

It was a massive blaze, fueled by the enormous stock of paper throughout the building.   Lennon was on the fourth floor when a "back draught of smothering smoke," as described by The Evening Post, forced the men out.  Then Lennon realized that one man, Battalion Chief O'Connor, was missing.  "Lennon climbed back through the window from the fire escape, and felt about in the darkness until he came across O'Connor's prostrate form.  He carried his chief to the ground and helped place him in the hands of the surgeons," said the article.

The firefighters who had been battling on the fourth floor returned there.  At some point Acting Chief Binns, concerned about the stability of the structure, ordered the men out.  The Evening Post reported "They tarried a moment, when the order came, and, as they were groping their way down to the third floor, the floor above, burdened by the water-soaked rolls of paper, suddenly collapsed, carrying them down."

One of the men, Fireman Quinn, caught John J. C. Siefert by the arm.  He held him tightly, but "as the floor fell, Seifert was torn away from his grasp."  A policeman and firefighter were able to find Quinn, now unconscious, and carry him to the street.  When he came to, he insisted on going back into the building.  "I know where Dan is," he shouted, referring to Daniel I. Campbell, "I could hear a voice down in the pile saying 'Thirty-two.'"

When it became evident that some of the Company 32's men had perished, the Chief sent the remaining members back to the station house while the other companies worked on.  Three of their members were not with them, John Siefert, Daniel Campbell and Thomas Lennon.

Somehow Lennon's wife had gotten word of the fire and arrived at the scene.  The Evening Post said "the sight of her urged the firemen to renewed efforts, if such a thing were possible."  At 10:00 the following morning Lennon's body was the first to be discovered.  "They found it on the second floor.  It was evident that he had been killed by a blow on the head."  

As is the case today, the work of the Fire Department was not always about fires.  On the morning of January 26, 1908 a policeman rushed into the firehouse, saying that a man was being crushed by an elevator in the Raymond Building nearby at No. 133 Fulton Street.  Willy Altkin had fallen when getting off the elevator, which then descended, crushing him against the floor.  Five firefighters ran to the scene "with crowbars and axes, [and] tore the framework away from the elevator door, and lifted the injured man out."  Altkin was taken to the Hudson Street Hospital with multiple fractures.

The firehouse was the scene of a somewhat historic ceremony on March 7, 1920.  The Daily News reported "The time-honored ceremony of the New York Fire Department of conferring the 'white hat,' indicative of the rank of battalion chief on each new holder of that office, took place at the headquarters of Engine Co. No. 32, 49 Beekman street, when Joseph O'Hanlon, youngest battalion chief, received the token of rank from acting Battalion Chief George T. McAleer."  

Joseph O'Hanlon (left) receives his white hat in the station house.  Daily News, March 8, 1920 (copyright expired)  

O'Hanlon, who was 36-years old, had joined the department in 1907 when, according to The New York Times years later, "according to legend, 'the men were made of iron and the hydrants of wood.'"  He would go on to a distinguished career, being promoted to Assistant Chief in 1936.  He would devise the departments pension system, the "three-platoon" system, and reduce firefighters' hours from 86 to 46 per week.

It was not his bravery nor firefighting skills that landed Fireman Richard Pecoraro's name in the newspapers in 1960.  It was his political passion.  The 27-year old bachelor was greatly disturbed by the Castro regime in Cuba.  Although firefighters were not permitted to leave the city for more than 72 hours without permission, he secretively traveled to Cuba in August for what he later described to department officials as a "little long weekend."  It was his second trip and he had managed to keep the first one secret.  This time would be different.

He explained to a reporter "It was my hobby or idea to go down and explain to the people my ideas as an American.  I felt it might help to get rid of the government."  That government did not appreciate his efforts.  He was arrested and spent 20 days in jail, unable to communicate with his superiors in the fire department.

On August 30 the Daily News reported "He finally got back to Engine Co. 32 at 49 Beekman St., on August 22, but found he had already been suspended."  He appeared before a hearing during which he "pleaded guilty to making a false statement with intent to deceive, leaving the city for more than 72 hours without permission, failing to notify his commander of inability to report and being absent without permission for almost 22 days."

Ardent political activism cost Richard Pecoraro his job.  photo by Nick Peterson, Daily News, August 30, 1960

Despite the bad experience, Pecoraro was undaunted in his hopes to make change.  He told a reporter he "wants to go back if he can stay out of jail," saying "I feel I can still do something there."  The Daily News reported "Deputy Commissioner Albert S. Pacetta indicated he will get his wish.  Pacetta, who presided at the fireman's hearing, said he will recommend his dismissal from the department."

On November 8, 1972 Fire Commissioner Robert O. Lowery announced that six engine companies would be discontinued, among them Engine Company No. 32.   Its station house of seven decades briefly became home to Ladder Company 10 before Engine Company 6 moved in.  

Still in residence today, Engine Company 6 placed its own number over the 1903 carved "32" and painted the bay doors with a vibrant mural of a tiger, the company's symbol.

photographs by the author

Farrar & Thompson's 1930 201 West 16th Street

 

Henry Mandel started out in the real estate business erecting tenement buildings with his father.  Following World War I his firm, the Mandel Companies, erected progressively larger and more elaborate projects.  Mandel's aggressive building plans reached an apex in 1929 when he laid plans for the massive London Terrace project on West 23rd Street and four architecturally harmonious apartment buildings on each of the corners of Seventh Avenue and 16th Street.

The onslaught of the Great Depression upset Mandel's plans for the "Chelsea Corners" undertaking and only three were built.  Like its fraternal twins at Nos. 200 and 161 West 16th Street as well as the London Terrace, No. 201 West 16th Street was designed by Farrar & Thompson.  The architects melded the Jazz Age with Gothic Revival, creating a striking brick, limestone and terra cotta delight.  

Eighteen stories tall, the two-story base incorporated two shops on the avenue, while the residential entrance was centered on the side street.  Gothic elements, like the square-headed drip moldings over the second story windows and the handsome double height stone embellishments at the third and fourth floors, successfully coexisted with the sleek Art Deco lines of the structure.

On December 8, 1930, as the building neared completion, tragedy struck.  The Standard Union reported "A scaffold on the tenth story of a building under construction at 201 West Sixteenth street, Manhattan, collapsed to-day plunging four workmen to their deaths on the roof of a one-story building next door."  

The building was officially completed on September 16, 1931, although tenants had begun moving in earlier.  They were lured by the modern conveniences--a laundry in the basement, Electrolux refrigerators, and uniformed doormen and elevator operators.  The $40 rent for a studio apartment would be equal to about $671 today--a significant amount for New Yorkers struggling during the Depression.

Among the initial tenants were the E. Howard Mowbray family, accountant William Bringhurst, and Henry Robert Mandel and his family.  Mandel was the son of the building's developer and worked within the family firm.

The Mowbrays appeared in the society columns repeatedly.  E. Howard and his wife, Jane, had one daughter, Edna.  The family had a summer home far upstate in Elmira Heights, New York.  

Edna was involved in the formation of a young ladies' social club in 1931 and on November 18 the Star-Gazette reported "The Nona Club held its first meeting Monday evening at the home of Miss Edna Mowbray, 201 Wet 16th Street.  A delightful evening was spent and dainty refreshments were served."  The following year, in August, Edna "entertained with a variety shower" for Edna Biernbrauer.  The Star-Gazette noted "The honor guest received many attractive gifts.  Bridge was enjoyed during the evening, followed by a dainty luncheon."

On June 5, 1933 the Mowbrays hosted a party at which Edna's engagement to Howard J. Griswold was announced.  It was cleverly revealed in a heart-shaped jig-saw puzzle containing a photograph of the couple.  

In the meantime, Henry Mandel filed for bankruptcy in 1932 and was jailed in 1933 for failure to pay alimony.  His son, who used his first initial and middle name, possibly to distinguish himself from his father, now became vice president of the Chelsea Management Corporation.  Despite his father's substantial financial problems, his career thrived.  In 1938 he published a reference book for agents, lawyers and property owners entitled Real Estate Management.

Mandel and his wife Rose had a son, Paul William.  They were both highly involved in charitable, civic and artistic issues.  In 1934 Mandel became a member of the Art Students' League.  But his interest was not merely philanthropic.  He studied art under Carlos Egas, Gregario Prestopino, Victor D'Amico and Sol Wilson.  By the end of the 1950's he would have several one-man shows and, while he considered his art a hobby, was accepted as a serious painter.  He was, as well, the president of The Village Art Center Gallery on Grove Street.

Medieval style bosses decorate the cornice above the second floor.

Another visible tenant was David Dubinsky, president of the International Ladies' Garment Workers' Union.  Labor unions held enormous power at the time.  While Dubinsky was instrumental in achieving gains for the thousands of garment employees through strikes and protests, he was also accused of forcing members to follow the union line without question.  On November 2, 1936, for instance, The New York Sun reported "Final 'voting orders' went out to the members of the International Ladies Garment Workers Union today."  In the messages president David Dubinsky said in part "Cast your own vote and get your family and friends to vote for Roosevelt and Lehman."  The Sun said that the hand-delivered messages were a "more-than-gentle hint that the union expected every member to do his or her duty at the polls tomorrow."

Paul William Mandel graduated cum laude from Harvard in 1951 and then studied at Harvard Law School.  He was married to Sheila Reid Emslie on August 20, 1956.  

His parents continued to be active in social causes.  Rose was head of the Community Service Society on East 22nd Street in 1959, described by The Villager as "The largest volunteer, non-sectarian, family service agency in the world, both in terms of cases handled and expenditure."  That year H. Robert became involved in the rescue of the historic and architecturally important Jefferson Market Courthouse in Greenwich Village.  Abandoned and home to rats and pigeons, the city slated it for demolition to make way for an apartment house.  The Villager reported on November 25 that "a group of noted sponsors headed by H. Robert Mandel, 201 W. 16th St., [propose] the use of the prison site as a Village Cultural Center...The Mandel plan would renovate the existing building for use as a cultural center."  He remained involved in the issue until the preservation of the building was finally secured more than a decade later.

Other tenants of note were attorney Edward Kuntz and his wife Beatrice.  Like David Dubinsky, Kuntz was heavily involved with labor issues.  He was one of the trial counsels of the International Labor Defense and routinely defended pickets arrested during strike demonstrations.  Among his most memorable cases was his defense of Morton Sobell, who stood trial in 1951 with Julius and Ethel Rosenberg on charges of spying for the Soviet Union.  Kuntz and his wife were still living in No. 201 in April 1957 when he died.

Little has changed externally to Farrar & Thompson's 1931 take on Gothic Revival.  There are still 40 apartments per floor, as there were on opening day. 

photographs by the author