The socially prominent Rhinelander family traced its American roots to Philip Jacob Rhinelander, who arrived in the New World in 1686. In 1886, an offal dock sat on Rhinelander land at the northwest corner of 89th Street and Lexington Avenue. (An offal dock was where the waste from slaughter houses and the carcasses of dead horses and other animals were brought to await removal by the city.) Two years, later, the Estate of William C. Rhinelander replaced the odorous facility by hiring architect Henry Janeway Hardenberg to design six private homes on Lexington Avenue and a four-story flat building around the corner at 121 East 89th Street.
Hardenberg had designed the impressive Dakota apartment building at 1 West 72nd Street eight years earlier. This flat building would be considerably less ambitious, but nonetheless architecturally striking. Faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone and terra cotta, Hardenberg drew on Northern Renaissance prototypes for his design, while sprinkling it with Queen Anne elements. The fourth floor sprouted phoenix-like from a swagged cornice and broken pediment above the two-story mid-section. Its window was flanked by Doric pilasters and capped by a triangular pediment. Two terra cotta rondels embellished the vertical parapet that took the place of a terminal cornice.
The 20-foot-wide structure was completed in 1889. Its four apartments--one per floor--filled with financially comfortable families.
Among the first were Samuel R. Ives and his wife, the former Frances Louisa Way. Ives was born in Ohio in 1835 and married Frances in 1861. Although he was just 54 years old when the couple moved into the new building, Ives was already retired. Unfortunately, he would not enjoy his new apartment for long. He and Frances went to Matamoras, Pennsylvania (just across the River from Port Jervis, New York) for the summer in July 1890. Ives died there on August 1.
Francis Marion Tichenor and his wife, the former Elizabeth R. Cornell, were also original tenants. Francis was born in 1840 and Elizabeth in 1846. They were married on October 8, 1879. Like the Rhinelanders, Francis Tichenor traced his American roots to the 17th century, his original ancestor, Martin Tichenor arriving in the New Haven Colony prior to 1644. Francis was a respected attorney, having been admitted to the bar in Newark in 1866.
Elizabeth lost an interesting piece of Victorian jewelry in January 1891, most likely on a shopping trip. Her advertisement in the New York Herald on January 10 was detailed:
Lost--In the vicinity of 14th St., a gold Bracelet, two animal heads, diamond eyes and small diamond in mouth of one animal; liberal reward. Mrs. F. M. Tichenor, 121 East 89th st.
She advertised again later that year. This time she was looking for domestic help. Her ad in the New-York Tribune on September 26 read, "Housework--A young girl to do general housework in small family; one to sleep home preferred. Tichenor."
While the Tichenors preferred that their maid did not live with the family (almost assuredly their cook did), the Reautchleck family's servant girl did. The arranagement landed Andrew Reautchleck in jail on March 29, 1892. The Evening World explained he, "was held in Harlem Court to-day charged with having last night forced an entrance to the bedroom of Mary McGinty, a servant in the same house."
Edward P. Phelps and his family lived here by 1893. Phelps was the auditor for the Denver Iron and Coal Company at 51 Wall Street. That summer, he hired Frank Guinevan to paint the apartment. When Guinevan left on June 11, Phelps quickly noticed that his valise was missing. Inside were valuable business papers, including four United Coal Company mortgage bonds and three shares of the company's stock--worth a total of $4,300 (about $150,000 in 2024).
Phelps reported the theft and Guinevan was arrested on June 15. The Sun reported, "When searched at the Police Headquarters all the bonds and stocks were found in his possession."
The Bennetts lived at 121 East 89th Street by 1894. On September 13 that year, The New York Press somewhat callously reported, "Twas a mosquito gave an estate of $6,500 to Mrs. Agnes R. Bennett of No. 121 East Eighty-ninth street. Her husband, a traveling man, was bitten by one and died from it on August 13. The will was probated yesterday." Bennett's estate would translate to about a quarter of a million in today's dollars.
Timothy J. Bresnan, a retired fire chief, and his wife moved in around 1902. Bresnan received a yearly pension of about $60,300 by today's terms.
On June 6, 1909, the couple went on a day trip to Rockaway Beach. Their excursion would end dramatically. The next morning The New York Times reported that Bresnan "stood in the roadway with his wife, at Highland Avenue and the Boulevard...at 11:45 o'clock last night, waiting for a trolley car to take them home."
Just as the trolley approached, a speeding, chauffeur-driven automobile with four passengers "came whirling toward them." Bresnan pushed his wife to the curb and jumped in the opposite direction onto the trolley car. The Times said, "The automobile glided between Mr. Bresnan and his wife, both narrowly escaping being run down." A short distance up the block, the chauffeur stopped the car. When he saw the irate Bresnan running toward him, he tried to restart the automobile, but the former fire chief was too quick for him. He "jumped to the running board, and, with a vigorous swing, hit him in the face."
"That's for trying to run us down," Bresnan said.
Bresnan returned to his wife and boarded the trolley. As it passed the automobile, the chauffeur, "one of his eyes beginning to swell," jumped aboard. He and Bresnan "engaged in a lively fight." The article said, "The passengers, many of them women, were in a panic." Eventually, the chauffeur said he had had enough excitement for the night and jumped off. "Ex-Chief Bresnan says he got the number of the automobile," reported The New York Times.
Among the Bresnans' neighbors were the Leopold Birnbaums. Both were born in Hungary in 1844. They were married in 1861 and immigrated to New York with their five children in 1882. Leopold Birnbaum was an accomplished engraver when he arrived. Rather than working for a larger firm, he opened his own practice. His clients included some of the leading jewelers of the city before his retirement in 1896.
The Birnbaums. New York Herald, April 28, 1911 (copyright expired)
The Birnbaum apartment was well-filled on the night of April 28, 1911 in celebration of the couple's 50th anniversary. The New York Herald reported, "A family dinner will be held in the evening, at which their five children and twelve grandchildren will be present. To-morrow a reception will be held for friends."
The following year resident Harry Stillings suffered public embarrassment. Early in July, he dropped into Frank Abrahall's saloon at 545 Third Avenue. He had been preceded by what The New York Times called, "two visits to Abrahall's saloon of a police 'stool pigeon.'" Suddenly, Police Lieutenant Becker's "Strong Arm" squad burst into the saloon and arrested Abrahall; his bartender, William Sheridan; and Harry Stillings as "common gamblers."
Happily for Stillings (but not before his reputation had been tarnished), two weeks later, on July 21, The New York Times reported that he had been released "for lack of evidence against him and because he did not fit the description" in the informant's affidavit.
The floor-engulfing apartments continued, for the most part, to be occupied by respectable families. Joseph Root and his wife lived here in the 1920s. Mrs. Root was corresponding secretary of the East Side Clinic for Women and Children.
Before it was painted, the facade's mixture of brick, brownstone and terra cotta created a contrast in color. image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.
In the 1940s, Gordon S. Ierardi and his wife, the former Jean Coburn, lived here. Ierardi graduated from Harvard in 1939 and initially joined the McGraw-Hill Publishing Co. In 1940 he moved to John Wiley & Sons, Inc. where he would become "one of the foremost psychology editors in the nation," according to The New York Times. Eventually, he would rise to the position of assistant vice president of the firm.
The building was renovated in 1984, although the configuration of one apartment to a floor was preserved. It was possibly at that time that the red brick façade was painted white. Other than that and replacement windows, Hardenberg's delightful flat building is outwardly little changed.
photographs by the author
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