photo by Alice Lum |
No. 115 West 95th Street was one of Merritt’s
designs—one of a string of six somewhat boxy brick-and-brownstone homes that
stretched from No. 111 to 121—built for developer Charles Bouton. A rusticated, rough-cut brownstone first
floor served as a base for two stories of red brick. Brownstone quoins framed the paired,
centered windows and each peaked, tiled roof was interrupted by a single dormer.
No. 115 was near towards the center of the row, marked by the purple banner above -- photo by Alice Lum |
In the meantime, Dr. Philip F. O’Hanlon was making a name
for himself in the medical community. O’Hanlon’s
family had a medical tradition—both his father and grandfather practiced
medicine on East 18th Street.
He earned his medical degree from New York University in 1886 and
immediately became House Surgeon at Gouverneur Hospital until 1887. In 1891 he was appointed Medical Examiner in
the Insurance Department of the State of New York. But after 1895, when he became the City’s Coroner’s
Physician, Philip F. O’Hanlon’s name became a household word.
The doctor and his wife, the former Laura Lincoln Plumb, had
one daughter, Laura Virginia, who was born in 1889. The year after receiving his position in the
Coroner’s Office, he leased No. 115 West 95th Street.
photo by Alice Lum |
The headline of the New-York Tribune on May 29, 1896 read “DR.
O’HANLON TESTIFIES” and the article informed a shocked public that “Dr. Philip
F. O’Hanlon, who conducted the autopsy on Mrs. Bliss’s body, was the most
important witness yesterday, and his testimony was that in his opinion death
was caused by arsenical poisoning.”
The following year he broke the sensational Geldensuppe
Murder Case by detecting an obscure clue that resulted in the unraveling of the
murder mystery, leading to the conviction of the murderer. The case had all the scintillating and gruesome
trappings of a crime novel—a dismembered corpse, a menage-a-trois, and shocking extra-marital
affairs. The New York Journal called it “a
murder, most foul, deliberate, mysterious and terrible.”
The case firmly established Dr. Philip F. O’Hanlon’s
reputation and renown.
The same year that O’Hanlon was instrumental in solving the
Geldensuppe Case, he was forced to tackle another difficult question. Little 8-year old Laura Virginia O’Hanlon—known
as Virginia to the family—faced a problem that summer. Her school friends chided her for believing
in Santa Claus.
When she asked her father if, indeed, Santa existed, he
deftly passed the onus of an answer to The New York Sun. So, relying on her father’s professed
unswerving faith in the veracity of the newspaper, little Virginia penned a
letter to the editor:
Dear Editor:
I am 8 years old.
Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, “If you see it in The Sun it’s so.”
Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?
Virginia O’Hanlon 115 West Ninety-Fifth Street
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Laura Virginia O'Hanlon in 1897 -- thebluegrassspecial.com |
“You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see…Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.”
Church’s long and moving column ended “No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.”
Although Dr. Philip F. O’Hanlon was a celebrated and well-known physician and nerve specialist; his little 8-year old daughter’s heart-felt appeal to The New York Sun would eventually make her the famous member of the family.
A year later the country became embroiled in the bloody Spanish-American
War. Philip F. O’Hanlon, along with
Hamilton Williams and Edward J. Donlin—also Deputy Coroners—applied to the War
Department to go to war either as soldiers or physicians. O’Hanlon became a lieutenant in the Medical
Reserves Corps.
photo by Alice Lum |
By 1920 the O’Hanlon’s former residence at No. 115 had
become a boarding house, owned by Elizabeth Brogan. Among the 11 residents was the 35-year old
motion picture actress Maude Wecherley. In the winter of 1920 Patrolman John Delaney came
across Wecherley “entertaining a crowd on the sidewalk at Eighty-ninth
Street and Columbus Avenue by singing in the small hours” of December 21. The singing actress was wearing glittering
jewelry which concerned the policeman.
So he arrested her.
So he arrested her.
Delaney testified in the West Side Court “On account of the
crime wave I thought it would be best to take her in before somebody got her
diamonds.”
Apparently the movie actress, who went by the screen name of
Maude Vancott, was unperturbed by the temporary loss of her freedom. According to the New-York Tribune the
following day, she “thanked the patrolman for his thoughtfulness and Magistrate
Mancuso suspended sentence.”
The house on 95th Street went through a quick
succession of female owners. In 1920
Elizabeth Brogan sold it to Helen Egler.
Florence Hull purchased the property next while 35-year old Simon
Sunarian, a Russian-born “lecturer” was living here. She leased it in October 1927 to Helen Wandrie
for five years. In 1957 the property was
converted to apartments—two per floor including the basement.
As the century progressed, the neighborhood noticeably
declined. In 1965 No. 115 West 95th
Street was taken over by the City of New York as part of an urban renewal scheme
intended to clean up the now-derelict homes along the block.
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No. 115 and its reportedly "rat-infested" neighbors are boarded up in 1969 -- photo NYPL Collection |
In 1974 a well-intentioned resident of the block, Jeanne
Beaty, purchased five of the houses from the City for about $35,000 each. Among the homes she intended to renovate as
investment properties was No. 115. Unfortunately
Beaty’s ambitious plans never came to fruition and two decades later the
structures had decayed to decrepit, vacant hulls. Legal battles dragged on until, finally, the
city repossessed the buildings in 1992.
The following year Moshe Shrem purchased three of the empty shells,
including No. 115. Shrem paid about
$175,000 for the former O’Hanlon house. The
deal with the city required the buyer to reconstruct the property within six
years.
In 2001, according to the Department of Buildings, No. 115
had been renovated to a single family residence with an apartment in the
basement. The house was put on the
market that year for $2.7 million.
No. 115 lost its front door when it was combined with its neighbor to the left -- photo by Alice Lum |
A great post on the history of the house and it's many owners, also the never to be topped Sun editorial response to Santa Claus and the incredible story of Manhattan real estate going from rat infested to $2.7 million. Wonderful story. NYarch
ReplyDeleteThis was a great read!!! Thanks for the site
ReplyDeleteHeard this story today on the radio. Looked up 115 W 95 St NYC and enjoyed it again. FANTASTIC. TOM T. NEW BERLIN, WISC. GO PAK!
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