Edward Cunningham's 1886 385 Manhattan Avenue

 

In February 1886, John M. Pinkney sold the vacant lots that made up the western blockfront of New Avenue (renamed Manhattan Avenue the following year) between 116th and 117th Street to developer Edward Cunningham.  Cunningham was also a partner in the contracting firm of Cunningham & Henderson, and appears to have acted as his own arcchitect.  Before the year was out, he had filled the block with 11 three-story homes.  A medley of Queen Anne designs, the houses--some faced in brick, some in brownstone, and others in both--created a charming streetscape.

The parlor level facades of the mirror-image houses that anchored the corners were clad in brownstone.  Stone quoins framed the openings and ran up the corners.  Large arched openings with stained glass transoms faced the avenue and side street, and decorative chimney backs carried on the Queen Anne motif.

The original appearance of 385 Manhattan Avenue can be seen in its mirror-image on the opposite corner at 405 Manhattan Avenue.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

Rudolph and Minnie L. Schneider purchased 365 Manhattan Avenue in 1887.  The couple operated a "brewers' materials" business at 211 East 94th Street under the name M. L. Schneider.  The Schneiders sold the building on January 29, 1904 to William Levers.

It is unclear whether Levers ever moved into the house or merely rented it.  In 1905 and '06, Eugene Bernstein listed his address here.  A German immigrant, he was an active member of the Tonkünstler Society, a German musical group.

Lever sold 365 Manhattan Avenue to Solomon Schinasi in May 1906.  Schinasi converted the parlor level for commercial use and created a second residential entrance around the corner at 355 West 116th Street.  The upper floors were adapted for apartments.  

In 1915, the shop space was leased to Drs. William Boehm and John Luks, who opened the Harlem Health Institute.  A notice in The Columbia Spectator on April 7 that year described the facility as "an institution of interest to all Columbia University students in need of health-baths of all kinds."  Among the services offered were "scientific massage, corrective gymnastics, and physical culture in all its branches--(X-Ray and all modern Electrical apparatus used)."  The institute remained through 1917.

An advertisement in 1921 offered furnished or unfurnished apartments.  It read, "Large rooms, kitchen, shower bath; parquet floor; electricity, gas included; or furnished; reasonable."

Not all the residents of 385 Manhattan Avenue during the Depression years were law-abiding.  Carl Taylor lived here in 1936 when his criminal endeavors nearly cost him his life.  On July 21, the Elmhurst, New York Daily Register reported,  "Captured after a wild chase in which shots were fired, Carl Taylor, 34, a negro of 385 Manhattan avenue, Manhattan is in St. John's Hospital today suffering from bullet wounds received when he was pursued by Newtown police early this morning after the attempted burglary of a Jackson Heights apartment."

Born in Virginia around 1868, Thomas Lyman lived here in 1940.  Crowded into the apartment with him were his 39-year-old daughter, Ellen Ash, and her three teenaged children, Vivian, Robert and Alfred.

At the time, the store was occupied by the grocery of brothers Louis and Michael Ronan.  On the afternoon of December 28, 1946, Harrison Wilson, James Lewis and Leonard Lappeire barged into the store brandishing handguns.  The young men (Wilson and Lappeire were both 22, and Lewis was 26), were dangerous and had committed ten armed robberies within the past month.  During one of the heists alone--at the Club Car at 924 Fifth Avenue--they made off with "cash, furs and jewelry with a total value of $9,100," according to The Sun.  (The Club Car was a private night club within the former mansion of George Henry Warren.) 

The hoodlums were not expecting this caper to be any different from their others.  But, as reported by The Sun, "Michael [Ronan] obeyed the 'stick 'em up' command, but Louis ducked under a counter and grabbed a gun."  A shoot-out commenced during which Ronan wounded one of the would-be robbers in the hand.  In the meantime, a passerby saw what was going on and notified two policemen.  They captured Harrison Wilson, the injured man, as he was exiting the store.  The others were tracked down within 24 hours.

A grocery store occupied the shop space in 1941.   image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

It may have been the harrowing incident that prompted the Ronan brothers to leave 365 Manhattan Avenue.  The following year the store was home to Miguel Aviles's delicatessen.

Beulah Brown lived here in 1963 and worked in the Hotel Ebony on West 112th Street.  She became a key witness in the capture of a serial murderer that year.  James Foster was a 36-year-old trucker's helper who would later admit that he had "nursed a grudge against all women for the past 21 years," according to The Record of Hackensack, New Jersey.  Within a two-week period beginning at the end of April, he strangled three women to death in Harlem hotels, and on the morning of May 12 strangled a 15-year-old girl in her mother's home.  That night, detectives broke into a room in the Hotel Ebony where Foster had just registered with another women.  The raid no doubt saved that woman's life.

A year later Foster went to trial.  On April 25, 1964, the New York Amsterdam News reported, "During the two-week trial, Foster was identified by Mrs. Katherine Owens of 150 West 140th St., and Mrs. Beulah Brown of 385 Manhattan Ave., as the man who registered with Miss Lewis."

Around 2009, a second store was carved into the rear portion of the building.  Kuti's Place, a takeout restaurant opened there in 2010.  The New York Times food columnist Dave Cook described the offerings as a marriage of "West African and Middle Eastern flavors."

More than a bit battered today, 365 Manhattan Avenue nevertheless retains much of its 1886 appearance.

photographs by the author

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The Jeremiah and Mary Ann Youmans House - 205 Prince Street

 

John Peter Haff's official profession was "inspector of sole leather."  Additionally, however, he was a recognized authority on agricultural techniques and a speculative real state developer in New York and New Jersey.  In 1834, he completed construction of two Federal-style homes at 203 and 205 Prince Street.  The westernmost house sat on the northeast corner of Prince and MacDougal Streets, affording it additional light and ventilation on the side.  Two-and-a-half stories tall and faced in Flemish bond brick, its parlor floor was originally accessed by a brownstone stoop.  Three dormers punched through the peaked roof. 

It appears Haff leased the houses until his death in 1838.  Around 1850, Jeramiah H. and Mary Ann Youmans purchased 205 Prince Street.  They had at least one son, David S., born in 1837.  In 1851, a daughter, Eliza, was born.  Youmans owned a lumber business (called a "woodyard" in the 1853 city directory) on Washington Street near the Hudson riverfront.

On October 20, the Youmans advertised in the Morning Courier, "Board--One or two large parlors and one bedroom, to let furnished, with board, to a gentleman and wife, or two single gentlemen, in a small private family.  Apply at 205 Prince street, corner of McDougal st."  (MacDougal street was variously spelled MacDougal, Macdougal and McDougal for years.  The confusion was understandable.  It was named after Alexander McDougall, whose father spelled his surname MacDougal.)

In 1853, the couple's boarders were Jessie W. Wadleigh and Dr. Baron Spolasco.  They would have long-term boarders in Charles E. L. Brinckerhoff and his family starting in 1857.  Brinckerhoff and his wife Clara had a 10-year-old son, Charles Rolph.

Born in 1822, Charles E. L. Brinckerhoff dealt in lamps and gas lighting fixtures.  He had two stores downtown, one on John Street and the other on William Street.  His wife, however, was far more celebrated than he.

Born in London in 1828 as Clara Maria Rolph, she was brought to America by her parents in 1833.  Her father, John A. Rolph, was an artist and her mother was a Italian-trained soprano.  Clara was trained in singing by her mother.  Following her mother's death, Clara was trained by leading coaches, including George Loder, conductor of the Philharmonic Society and his wife.

Clara made her concert debut at the age of 16 at Apollo Hall on Broadway.  The principal soprano of Grace Church, she sang the full Christmas service on December 25, 1848, before marrying Charles later that day.  

The famed soprano's image appeared on this sheet music in 1873.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

Clara contributed greatly to the family's income.  The Youmans allowed her to conduct her voice lessons in the house.  An advertisement in The New York Times in September 1857 read,

Mrs. Clara M. Brinkerhoff informs her pupils and the public, that her season for tuition in Vocal Music will commence on Monday, Sept. 28.  Terms: $40 for a term of twenty-four lessons; single lessons, $2.  Address No. 205 Prince-st., corner of McDougal.  At home on Wednesdays.

The tuition for a 24-lesson term would equal about $1,440 in 2024.

Additionally, Clara was a composer, romance novelist (under the pseudonym Henri Gordon) and lecturer.  Among her best known songs was One Flag or No Flag, published during the Civil War.

The parlor of 205 Prince Street was the scene of four-year-old Eliza Youmans's funeral on May 15, 1855.  The little girl had died the previous day.

The Brinkerhoffs remained in the Youmans house at least through 1862.  On October 25, 1861, Clara advertised,

Madame Clara M. Brinkerhoff, having returned from Europe, will be ready for concert engagements and pupils in singing from the 1st of November.  Address 205 Prince-st., corner of Macdougal.

Jeremiah H. Youmans died at the age of 61, "after a short illness, in full hopes of a blessed immortality," as worded by the New-York Tribune, on May 13, 1862.  His funeral was held in the house on May 16.  Mary Ann was still in mourning when David S. Youmans died on February 9, 1863 at the age of 26.  His funeral, too, was held in the parlor.

Mary Ann operated her home as a boardinghouse for the next six years.  Having buried her entire family, she died here at the age of 57 on August 16, 1869.

Six months later, on February 15, 1870, the "two-story brick house" and lot was sold at auction for $20,250 to Samuel Parsons.  (The amount would translate to about $488,000 today.)  One month to the day later, an auction of the Youman family's furnishings was held.  Among the elegant pieces sold was a "rosewood piano, by Steinway & Sons."

Samuel Parsons continued operating 205 Prince Street as a boarding house.  Among his boarders in 1871 was Ronald MacDonald, an editor.

Parsons made significant changes to the house in 1875.  He removed the stoop, filled in the basement level, and installed a neo-Grec cast iron storefront on what was now the first floor.  It was possibly at this time that the attic was raised to a full floor, taking the shape of a stylish mansard.  Parsons's first commercial tenant was O'Leary Bros., a furniture store.

Around 1886, August Berrmann purchased the property.  The personality of the commercial space underwent a drastic change that year when brewers Bernheimer & Swartz signed the lease.  It was common for breweries to operate their own saloons, thereby assuring that only their own products would be sold.  

At the turn of the century, the saloon was run by Peter Mutthiessen.  He was fined the staggering amount of $1,630 on February 27, 1903 by State Excise Commissioner Cullinan.  The Albany newspaper The Argus explained, "Matthiessen trafficked in liquor at 205 Prince street, New York city, and violated the liquor tax law by having his barroom open [on Sunday]."  

The storefront was boarded up and obviously under renovation when this photo was taken in 1941.  On the side of the building an R & H Beer (Rubsam & Horrmann brewery) sign can be seen.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The estate of August Herrmann sold the property in March 1906 to Albert J. F. Sibberns and his wife, Clara L.  Calling his saloon a "café," it became what today would be called a sports bar and a training venue for boxers and wrestlers.  

In 1909, the Bridgeport, Connecticut newspaper The Farmer reported that Young Evans was in town.  "He has put away some clever boxers, including Tommy Devlin of Philadelphia, Joe Percenti of Chicago, Bob Smillie of Salem, and Johnnie Dohan of Brooklyn," said the article.  "He is willing to take on any promising youngster in this State at 136 pounds.  Communicate with his manager, Al Sibberns, 205 Prince street, New York."

The bar was also the headquarters of the Bugs Association baseball team.  Al Sibberns played centerfield for the group.

Sibberns was not the only trainer who worked from the saloon.  In 1915, according to the Brooklyn Standard Union, boxer Johnny Hayes's manager was Chick Kenney, and Dummy Dragon's was Louis Masso.

Albert J. F. Sibberns declared bankruptcy in November 1916.  The Sun reported that he had liabilities of $7,610 and assets of $300.

A saloon would remain here until Prohibition.  The space continued to house a restaurant or tavern throughout most of the 20th century.  

The building was returned to a single family home in the 1970s, its owners replacing the storefront infill with handsome arched windows reminiscent of a Dickensian London bookshop.  The renovation earned the owners a 1979 Certificate of Appreciation by the Association of Village Homeowners for "enhancing the surroundings with renewal of facades in a way appropriate to the historic character of the district."

photographs by the author

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The 1925 Hotel Olcott - 27 West 72nd Street

 

image via compass.com

The Nathan Straus family had lived in the brownstone mansion at 27 West 72^nd Street for decades when the 27 West 72^nd Street Corp. demolished it and three abutting residences at 29 through 33 in 1924.  The firm hired architect George F. Pelham to design a modern residential hotel on the site.  Residential hotels differed from apartment buildings in that the apartments did not have kitchens and residents enjoyed the amenities of a hotel, like maid service.  They differed from regular hotels in that the tenants were long-term.

 
George F. Pelham was noted for his use of historic styles, notably neo-Tudor.  But for the Olcott Hotel he turned to a 1920’s take on the Italian Renaissance.  Completed in 1925, an advertisement described the building as being “constructed of steel, gold-colored tapestry brick, with the first three floors of limestone.”  There were 227 suites of one to four rooms and, while there were no kitchens, each apartment had a “complete serving pantry,” which included a “mechanical refrigeration [and] circulating ice water.”
 
On the ground floor were the lobby, the residents' dining room, four “convertible lounging and dining rooms,” two doctors’ offices with apartments, and the hotel offices.  The rooftop included a children’s playground, large sun parlors, and a billiard room.  The location was highly touted by the Olcott’s management.  An advertisement said the building had unobstructed views of “the extensive and beautiful gardens of the Dakota apartments.”
 
The Olcott Hotel attracted professional, moneyed residents.  Among the first were Sol Bashwitz, described by The New York Times as a “wealthy retired wholesale clothier,” and his wife.  In May 1929, the couple returned from Europe and three weeks later Bashwitz made an appointment to meet with his attorney, Harry S. Sondheim, in the apartment at 4:00.  It was a convenient time since Mrs. Bashwitz would be out visiting their daughter on West 86^th Street.
 
At 4:00 on June 4, the front desk telephoned the apartment but received no answer.  After several more attempts, Sondheim and a bellboy went to the apartment with a passkey.  They found the 56-year-old Bashwitz lying on his back in the smoking room with a bullet wound through the heart.  A .32-calibre automatic pistol lay at his side.  While the family insisted it was murder, there was no evidence to suggest anything but suicide.
 
At the time, Sol Anderson and his wife lived here.  He had retired in 1920 after running a florist shop at 71 Broadway for 25 years.  He was better known to New Yorkers as the Captain of the Old Guard.  Perhaps the city's most venerated military organization, it was formed in 1826 as the Tompkins Blues.  Over the decades it had served as honor guard at the funeral of President James Monroe and traditionally was present in all Gubernatorial and Mayoral events, such as inaugurations.
 
Among the most colorful residents was George Mayer.  Like Sol Anderson, he was retired, having been a partner in the Strause-Adler corset company until 1927.  He was known as a “perfect first-nighter.”  On October 16, 1930, The New York Times reported, “For forty-eight years, with the exception of his absence on a trip to Europe several years ago and to Honolulu nine months ago, Mr. Mayer never missed a first night in New York, which was the place of his birth.”  If two plays opened on the same night, Mayer would buy four tickets and give two away so as not to break his streak.  A bachelor, he had attended more than 5,000 Broadway performances.  The New York Times added that he “had never been late or left before the final curtain.  He always bought the same seats, A1 and A3, which, though aisle seats, he refused to exchange, in order not to disturb others.”
 
Resident Antonina Marco was the widow of a coal dealer.  While she was at the Blackstone Hotel at Miami Beach on February 13, she removed $40,000 of her jewelry from her safety deposit box in the hotel vault.  It turned out to be a fortunate move.  The following day five “cool bandits,” as described by The New York Sun, “selected sixteen of the eighty-two deposit boxes…including Mrs. Marco’s, and walked out with a total of nearly $200,000 in jewelry and cash.”  Antonina Marco lost a string of pearls with a diamond clip, and four diamond bracelets—in all $100,000 in jewelry and $2,000 in cash.  (That amount would equal about $1.9 million today.)

Antonina Marco.  The New York Sun, June 15, 1939.

Back in New York, her luck would not improve.  On the evening of June 15 Antonina was invited to the apartment of Bessie Williams at 135 West 79^th Street for a “friendly card game.”  While the women were playing, three men knocked on the door and the maid let them in.  Saying they were from police headquarters and were responding to a complaint of “the noise of a roulette game,” the men started searching the apartment.  Suddenly they turned to the elegantly-dressed women and declared, “This is a stick-up.”
 
The New York Sun reported, “Apparently some one had put the finger on Mrs. Marco because they were most interested in the jewelry and money she had.  The others won scant attention.”  The newspaper said the robbers “divested her of three rings valued at $6,000, a $1,500 wrist watch and $700 in cash.”
 
Another interesting resident was attorney Abraham Felt, a member of the bar since 1912.  Born in Jersey City in 1881, he had a broad resume.  A 32^nd degree Mason and a past master of the National Lodge of Masons, he was a composer and poet as well.  He and his wife, the former Dora Mandell Felt, maintained a summer home in Deal, New Jersey.  On August 8, 1957 he suffered a fatal heart attack on the train back to New York from Deal.
 

The entrance was modernized and a streamlined marquee installed by the time Roy Colmer took this photograph in 1976.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

While most apartment hotels had been converted to apartments by the last decade of the 20^th century, the Hotel Olcott hung on.  Joseph Berger, writing in The New York Times on April 25, 1992, said, “It is not really a hotel you can check into for the night.  Many of its 240 residents checked in 30 years ago and never repacked their suitcases.  It is a residential hotel, an apartment house mostly for lazy people who do not want to make beds, cook dinner or buy furniture.”
 
Monthly rent for a four-room suite at the time was $3,000--the equivalent of $6,520 today.  Among the “lazy” residents in 1992 were entertainer Tiny Tim, Academy Award winning actor Martin Balsam, and Franco-Russian ballerina Nina Youshkevitch.  Berger’s article said, “Madame Youshkevitch raised her son, Robert, in the Olcott.  She felt secure about his coming home from school and fortunate that he had Lincoln Center within a short walk.  She even found the hot plate adequate for the steak and vegetables they ate.  ‘We made big dinners,’ she said.”
 
By 1996 a Dallas BBQ Restaurant occupied ground floor space.  It became a thorn in the side of its West 72^nd Street neighbors.  The restaurant was flooded with noise complaints.  One of the owners, Greg Wetanson, fired back, “We’re a family restaurant.  I don’t have young punks.  I have wonderful customers.  And I try to do what I can for the community.”

A more period appropriate marquee graces the entrance today.  image via compass.com

The end of the line for the residential hotel came in 2005 when Brack Capital and Stellar Management converted the building to condominiums.

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The Lost Luke Welsh House -- 86th Street and Riverside Drive

While the chickens in the yard give make a bucolic scene, Luke Welsh's house buzzed with activity.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

On July 28, 1868, The New York Sun reported on the benefit performance for former boxing champion Jem Ward.  The article opened saying, "There was a high old time at the Old Bowery last night.  The house was in all its glory."  The night started out with "mimicry, dancing club exercises by a lady, a comedietta, and truly wonderful gymnastic exercises by the Bulshay family."  Finally came the main event.  "Old Bill Tovee, the veteran manager at benefits, introduced Luke Welsh and John McGuire."

The two Irishmen boxed for four rounds to shouts like "bully for the young mosquito!" and "that's a stinger!"  The young mosquito was, by no means, Luke Welsh.  The newspaper later described the boxer as "gigantic."  

Like many boxers of the day, Luke Welsh soon turned from boxing to training and running a sports venue.  Sometime around 1875 he leased the property on Mount Tom at "Twelfth Avenue to Thirteenth Avenue, from 86th to 87th Street," from Ellen R. and Otis W. Randall.  Sitting on the property was a "two-story brick dwelling," as described by the Real Estate Record & Guide.   

Initially he partnered with Phineas Vize to open Hudson River Park.  An advertisement in the New York Evening Express on June 6, 1876 read:

Foot of Eighty-sixth Street, North River.  Magnificent Course for Yachting and Rowing, buoyed for Distances of from 1 to 25 Miles.  Every Accommodation and Facility for Anchorage of Yachts &c.  Accessible by Vehicles.  First-class Refreshments constantly on hand.  Boats to let for fishing or pleasure parties.

Welsh and his wife Mary occupied the house.  Patrons of the park could obtain light meals and refreshments in the first floor rooms.  

The couple nearly lost their venture in the summer of 1879.  On August 17, The New York Times reported, "A fire occurred shortly before 3 o'clock yesterday morning in the two-story and attic brick house at Eighty-sixth street and Twelfth-avenue, owned by Luke Welsh and occupied by him as a saloon and dwelling."  The damages to the house and contents amounted to $1,000 (about $31,500 in 2024 terms).  Unfortunately for the Welshes, while the building was insured, the "furniture and household effects" were not.

Welsh promoted and trained professional boxers.  On December 25, 1880, The National Police Gazette reported that he was one of "a large delegation of sporting men" who "invaded the sanctum" of the newspaper's offices to arrange a wrestling match between William Muldoon, "the modern Hercules of the Police Department" and Clarence Whistler of Kansas, the "wrestling demon."  The article referred to Welsh as "the noted boxer who is famous as one of Ned O'Baldwin's, the late Irish giant, pugilist backers."

The Columbia Yacht Club's clubhouse was on the waterfront, just south of Luke Welsh's Hudson River Park.  It made for a symbiotic relationship.  The yacht races sponsored by Welsh used the Columbia "triangular course," and spectators of the Columbia Yacht Club regattas took advantage of Hudson River Park.  Such was the case on July 12, 1881, the day of the "first Union Regatta of Columbia Yacht Club."  The Truth reported, "At Hudson River Park, Luke Welsh's towering form circulated among the gathering of yachting men and pleasure seekers.  Luke had just come in on the steamer New Orleans from a trip to Lake Ponchartrain, which he said was a pleasant journey, but a long ways to travel for the sake of getting beat."

The reciprocal relationship between Welsh and the yacht club was evidenced again a year later.  On October 14, 1882, The Spirit of the Times reported, "There is to be a sweepstakes match next week, from off Luke Welsh's place, Hudson River Park, foot of Eighty-sixth Street, N[orth]. R[iver].  If sufficient entries can be had at $25 each.  The course proposed is the triangular one of the Columbia Yacht Club."

Police suspected that Welsh had held a bare-knuckle fight on the property in the summer of 1883.  The World reported on July 17 that they "found near the Riverside Drive at Mount Tom on Sunday morning twelve stakes driven into the ground in the form of a square, with ropes complete as if for a fight."  The officers said, "In the ring were two shirts covered with blood and the grass was trampled as though a bloody fight had taken place in it."

In fact, as the newspaper's investigative reporter discovered, the police "had exaggerated the real facts."  The ring had been set up for a legal boxing match.  The "blood-covered shirts" were "two pieces of linen covered with iron-rust, and were found not in the ring but in the gutter of the drive."  The article explained,

It seems that on Saturday night, Mr. Luke Welsh, who keeps a well-known sporting resort near where the ring was pitched, was to have had a "opening."  Among the attractions to bring his friends from the city were to have been "wrestling and sparring matches in a 24-foot ring on the turf."  An ox roast was to wind up the attractions.  On Saturday evening, however, Mr. Welsh was sick, and his friends and the boxers and wrestlers returned to the city without the ring having been used.

On February 9, 1884, The National Police Gazette reported, "The fistic engagement which is now attracting the most attention in the sporting world is the prize fight between Tom Henry, of this city, formerly of England, and Jimmy Murray, of this city, formerly of Providence, R. I."   The article noted, "Jim Murray went into training at Luke Welsh's, at the foot of Eighty-sixth street, North river, on the 21st."

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

At the time of the article, the end of the line for the Hudson River Park was near.  Luke Welsh's lease expired on May 1, 1884.  Ellen and Otis Randall had sold the property to Thomas H. Nally on February 25, 1882 for $32,500 (just under $1 million today).   Shortly after Welsh's lease expired, Nally sold the block on May 22, 1883.  Somewhat surprisingly, Luke Welsh sued Nally, but (not surprisingly) he lost in court.

The brick house was demolished and the block of land that had been Luke Welsh's "famous sporting resort" was quickly developed.

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The Dr. Edward E. Best House - 168 West 130th Street

 

Image via streeteasy.com

Real estate developer William J. Merritt often acted as his own architect and in 1884 he completed a row of four 20-foot-wide homes at 164-170 West 130th Street, just east of Seventh Avenue (later Adam Clayton Powell, Jr. Blvd.)  Patently Merritt, they were designed in variations of the Queen Anne style.

Among them was 168 West 130th Street.  Faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone, it was accessed by a dog-legged brownstone stoop.  Brick voussoirs above the elliptically arched openings of the parlor floor were capped with terra cotta lintels.  Merritt placed a charming terra cotta plaque next to the parlor window.

The third floor was dominated by a Flemish Renaissance Revival gable, possibly inspired by the Belgian Pavilion at the 1878 World Exposition.  Behind it rose a slate shingled mansard roof.  

An advertisement described 168 West 130th Street as a "handsome, three-story dwelling; box stoop; cabinet finish; two baths."  The original owners sold the house at auction in 1898.  It was purchased by Frank and Carolina B. Thompson.  Following Frank Thompson's death, the residence was again auctioned, purchased by real estate agent Moses Misch in 1910.

Misch and his wife lived here only until November 1913.  The house had a series of occupants until July 12, 1919, when Dr. Edward E. Best purchased it from Russell A. Cowles.  Best was born in Barbados, British West Indies, on April 13, 1887.  The son of William E. and Evangeline St. Clair Best, he received his elementary and high school education at Ellicottville, New York.

The 32-year-old physician was a widower.  His late wife, Rhoda Russell, was the daughter of Dr. York Russell, who was also born in Barbados.  Dr. Best no doubt purchased the house in anticipation of his upcoming marriage to Jane Elizabeth Brown on September 30, 1919. 

The Best house was often a subject of Harlem social columnists.  On August 7, 1926, for instance, The New York Age announced, "Mrs. Kate G. Watkins of Cambridge, Mass., is spending a part of her vacation at the home of Dr. and Mrs. E. E. Best, 168 West 130th street."  Two months later, on October 30, the newspaper reported, "Dr. and Mrs. Edward E. Best...were host and hostess to members of the Hyacinth Social Club at its annual meeting on Thursday evening, October 2."  The article said, "After the routine business, the hosts entertained their guests in a manner which left nothing to memory but an evening which was replete with fun, augmented by a repast of delicious daintiness."

On January 28, 1928, the newspaper reported, 

Dr. and Mrs. E. E. Best honored Mrs. Best's birthday (it wasn't mentioned which one) on Sunday, January 22, by entertaining a few friends at their home, 168 West 130th street.  The event was commemorated by a dinner, which was served with an epicurean touch and a pre-war flavor.

Edward Best was not only a prominent Harlem physician, but an active member of the Catholic community and of the Equal Rights Movement.  He spoke regularly at various assemblies.  The Crisis reported in its April 1935 issue that he addressed, a meeting of the New Rochelle N.A.A.C.P on February 10, during which, "pertinent facts in Negro History were outlined."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

In its February 1941 issue, Our Province reported:

In early December we heard an interesting talk by Dr. Edward E. Best of St. Mark's Parish, N. Y.  Dr. Best is a member of the Interracial Council.  He appealed for a better understanding of the problems of the Negro.  It was an enlightening discourse, well received and enjoyed.

In 1949, Best organized the Friends of the Handmaids of Mary.  The New York Age explained on June 24, 1950 that it was formed "for the purpose of assisting the Sisters in raising funds for the upkeep of the Convent [of the Handmaids of Mary], 15 West 124th Street, the Resident Club for Working Girls, and St. Benedict's Day Nursery, all conducted by this order."

By the time of that article, Dr. Best had been gone from the West 130th Street house for several years.  He and Jane had separated and Jane's brother, Dr. Thomas Watkins, moved into the 130th Street house with her.

Jane married Luther Francis Yancey in her hometown of Cambridge, Massachusetts on June 25, 1947, but the marriage was short-lived.  By 1952 when she died in her sleep, she had taken back the name of Jane Elizabeth Brown Best.  In reporting her death, The New York Age ignored her recent marriage, saying, "She and the well known Harlem physician had been separated for years, although they maintained cordial relations."

Dr. Edward E. Best died in 1967.  In 2003 a renovation to 168 West 130th Street resulted in one apartment per floor.

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The 1821 Deborah Coley House - 66 Bedford Street

 

Laid out in 1799, Bedford Street was named for the London Street of the same name.  In 1821, two years after he purchased land on the street, merchant Isaac Jaques sold several of the plots to builders James Vandenberg and Isaac Freeman.  The partners erected prim Federal style houses on their plots, identical to those they built for Jaques.  Two-and-a-half stories tall, the frame houses were faced in Flemish bond red brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Tidy dormers pierced the peaked roof. 

James Vandenberg moved into the house at 68 Bedford Street, while Isaac Freeman took possession of 66 Bedford as an investment property.  Freeman's tenants were middle class, like David Vanpelt, a carter (or delivery driver), and grocer Abraham D. Tompkins, whose families shared 66 Bedford Street in 1836.  

They were followed in 1837 by Rev. B. Hibbard, who listed his profession as "druggist" rather than clergyman.  While living here, he marketed Rev. B. Hibbard's Vegetable Antibilious Family Pills.  An advertisement in The Evening Post on August 25, 1837 promised in part:

They are highly appreciated for the relief they afford in affections of the Liver and Digestive Organs.  The worst cases of Chronic Dyspepsia, Inveterate Costiveness, Indigestion, Dyspeptic Consumption, Rheumatism, Nervous or Sick Headache and Scurvy, have been entirely cured by a proper use of them.  Also, Liver Complaints, Fever and Ague, Bilious Fever, Jaundice, Dysentery or Bloody Flex, the premonitory symptoms of Cholera, Dropsical Swelling, Piles, Worms in Children, Fits, Looseness and Irregularity of the Bowels, occasioned by Irritation, Teething, &c.

The regular turnover in tenants continued into the 1850s.  In 1851, carman Peter C. Westervelt occupied the house, followed by Henry Bredehoff, a grocer, in 1853 and '54.  Then, in 1855, Deborah Coley, the widow of William Coley, moved into 66 Bedford Street with her daughter Rachel.  At a time when few women were trained for anything other than domestic duties, it was common for widows to run boarding houses to make a living.

Given the size of the house and the fact that boarders often came with other family members, Deborah Coley never took in more than two at a time.  In 1856 they were Samuel Barber and John C. Westervelt, both clerks.  (The term ranged from low-level office workers to highly responsible employees who managed cash.)  

On May 26, 1863, she advertised, "To Let--Second floor, in a genteel two story house, to a family without children.  Inquire at 66 Bedford street.  Rent $12 per month."  That amount would translate to about $300 today.

Following her mother's death in 1874, Rachel Coley took over the operation of the house, continuing to accept respectable boarders like Eugene Lowe, a dealer in plumbers' materials, here in 1876, and Alfred B. Hazard, a clerk, in 1879.

Change came after World War I.  On September 24, 1920, the New-York Tribune reported that Albertson Von Zo Post had purchased "the old fashioned house."  He converted it to studio apartments, the Department of Buildings warning, "not more than two families cooking independently on premises." Post removed the three-step stoop and lowered the doorway, which was given a Georgian-style fanlight.  The resultant gap between the top of the new entrance and the sheet metal cornice of the old one (which had been added along with those over the windows in the 19th century) was filled in with brick.

An advertisement in The New York Times on October 19, 1921 read simply, "Studio Apartment.  3 Rooms, kitchen, bath."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In 1914, Seventh Avenue was extended south to Varick Street, mowing a swath through Greenwich Village.  Several of the resultant triangular-shaped plots, too small for a house or business, became home to gasoline stations.  In 1922, one was erected directly behind 66 Bedford Street.

In 1982, Robert and Sandra Wagenfeld purchased 66 Bedford Street and the Seventh Avenue service station, which had closed in 1970.  They returned the Bedford Street house to a single-family home, and renovated the service station as a guest house.  The properties were purchased by investor Barry Schwartz in 2006.  Five years later, when 64 Bedford Street became available, he purchased that home and joined the two houses internally with a single door at the rear.

photographs by the author

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The 1903 W. M. Evarts and U. S. Senate - 231 and 235 Second Avenue

 

Largely forgotten today, William Maxwell Evarts was born in Boston in 1818.  He graduated from Yale University in 1837 and from Harvard Law School in 1839.  In 1849 he became Assistant U. S. Attorney, and in 1868 became United States Attorney General.  He would add U.S. Secretary of State and U.S. Senator from New York to his resume before retiring from public service.  He and his wife lived in a refined brick and brownstone mansion at 231 Second Avenue at the northwest corner of East 14th Street.

The Second Empire style Evarts mansion was separated from a similar house facing Stuyvesant Square by a common garden.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

On March 1, 1901, The New York Times began an extensive article by reporting, "William Maxwell Evarts, lawyer and statesman, died yesterday morning at his home 231 Second Avenue, corner of Fourteenth Street."

At the time of Evarts's death, his neighborhood was changing.  Mansions on East 14th Street were being razed for commercial buildings, and those on the avenue were rapidly being replaced by apartment or institutional buildings.  Real estate developers Feller & Sherafsky razed the Evarts mansion and hired the architectural firm of Sass & Smallheiser to replace it with two apartment buildings.  As a nod to the esteemed statesman, they would be called the E. M. Evarts and the U.S. Senate.

The six-story, Beaux Arts style structures were completed in 1903 at a cost of $100,000, or about $3.57 million by 2024 terms.  Sitting upon a rusticated limestone base were five floors of dark red brick.  Two porticos with polished granite columns protected the entrances; their entablatures carved with each building's name.  Interestingly, the W. M. Evarts portico had single columns, while the slightly larger U. S. Senate's had paired columns.  The buildings' midsections were dominated by triple-height limestone arches, each crowned with shields and swags.

"W. M. Evarts" and "U.S. Senate" are engraved in the entablatures of  the porticos.  photos by Beyond My Ken.

Both buildings offered apartments of five or six rooms with a bath.  An advertisement in The New York Times on July 26, 1904 boasted, "near Stuyvesant Park; most beautiful location down town; all modern improvements; hall attendants."  (Uniformed hall boys were on duty to carry packages and help with minor errands.)  Rents ranged from $38 to $65--about $2,290 per month for the more expensive apartments.

The W. M. Evarts and U. S. Senate filled with well-heeled, professional tenants.  Among the earliest were Harvey W. Watterson and his wife, the former Alice Burrows.   Born in Louisville, Kentucky in 1878, Watterson was a graduate of Dartmouth College and Columbia University Law School.  He was admitted to the bar in 1902 and in 1904 he and Alice were married.  A junior member of the law firm of Wing, Russell & Watterson, his social and financial positions were reflected in his memberships to the Manhattan Club, the Southern Society and the Kentuckian Society.

Harvey W. Watterson.  New-York Tribune, November 12, 1908 (copyright expired)

Around 5:30 on the afternoon of November 11, 1908, the Watterson maid answered their door.  Harvey was expected home around this time, but it was, instead, the wife of a close friend.  She had been telephoned by Thomas E. Wing, the senior member of the law firm, who asked her to break the news of Harvey Watterson's death to Alice as gently as possible.

At 4:45, Watterson was going over papers with a colleague when he looked at his watch and said, "Well, I must be going home."  The 30-year-old rushed to his private office, put on his overcoat, then noticed an open window.  The New-York Tribune reported, "It is believed Mr. Watterson reached up to pull down the window, tripped over the radiator in his hurry, and plunged headforemost to his death."  His estate, valued at over $1 million in today's money, went to Alice "until she shall die or marry again," as reported by the New-York Tribune.

Anna Snider, a widow, lived in the W. M. Evarts with her teenaged daughter, Mabel in 1914.  For several months, Joseph Zucker "wooed" Mabel, according to The Evening World.  The newspaper described her as a "pretty sixteen-year-old."  Her suitor was 24.  The Evening World explained, "When Mabel took Zucker to her house, Mrs. Snider looked him over and decided right then and there he wasn't the man to marry her daughter."

Anna later told Magistrate Appleton in the Centre Street Court, "I didn't like his looks and told him to make himself scarce."  Although Mabel cried, she promised her mother she would not see Zucker.  Not surprisingly, Anna discovered the two were meeting secretly and went into private investigator mode.  She went to Police Headquarters and discovered he had spent time in prison.

Anna told her daughter, who reacted by becoming angry and insisting the two were in love.  On March 13, 1915, the couple sneaked off to City Hall and were married.  But the tenacious and protective Anna Snider was undeterred.  She had Zucker arrested for abduction, The Evening World explaining, "it being a felony in this State to marry a girl under the age of eighteen years without first obtaining the consent of her guardian."  

In court on March 15, Zucker's prior convictions "as a disorderly person and pickpocket" were revealed.  This  new information was too much for Anna to endure.  The Evening World said, "When Mrs. Snider heard of it she promptly fainted."  Zucker was sent to the Tombs and, as reported by The Evening World, "Mabel cried a bit and then went home with her mother."

The 14th Street side of 231 Second Avenue was lined with stores, one of which was the Dreyfus Drugstore.  On December 6, 1922, The Evening World reported, "Burglars have robbed Druggist Dreyfus of No. 231 Second Avenue twelve times."  Rather sarcastically the article added, "Apparently it's a habit."

More than two decades after being repeatedly robbed, the Dreyfus Drugstore advertised in the Yiddish language The Day on February 11, 1945.

The U. S. Senate was the scene of a tragedy in the summer of 1926.  On August 18, the Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported, "In view of thousands of persons, Hyman Zuckerman, 30, a laundry owner, of 1381 Eastern Parkway, leaped from the roof of a six-story building at 235 2d ave., Manhattan, shortly after 10 o'clock this morning and was impaled on a six-foot picket fence."  (The cast iron fence had to be cut with acetylene torches to extricate the body.)

The article continued, "A tragic scene was enacted a few minutes later when Mrs. Elsie Zuckerman, wife of the laundryman, with her 11-month-old daughter, Marion, drove up in a taxicab in search of her husband.  The cab was forced to stop because of the crowd, and she saw her husband's body on the fence.  She swooned."  Why Zuckerman chose this building for his suicide is unknown.

A fascinating resident of 235 Second Avenue was Dr. Leon M. Pisculli.  A gynecologist, he was the founder and director of the American Nurses' Aviation Service, Inc.  In August 1932, the 53-year-old organized a 4,000 mile, non-stop flight from Floyd Bennett Field on Long Island to Rome, Italy.  Pisculli recruited 31-year-old William Ulbrich, "a veteran barnstorming pilot," according to the New York Evening Post, and Edna Newcomer, a 28-year-old student nurse.  She was one of two trained female nurses in the United States with a pilot's license.

Edna Newcomer and Dr. Pisculli in the monoplane The American Nurse prior to takeoff.  from the collection of the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum.

The Morning Call said they expected their trip in the monoplane to take 25 hours.  It left Floyd Bennett Field shortly after 6 a.m. on September 13.  At 5:50 p.m. it was sighted by the tanker Winnebago in the mid-Atlantic.  That was the last anyone saw of The American Nurse and no trace of it or its crew was ever found.

Living here in the early 1980s were Andrea Rita Dworkin and John Stoltenberg.  (The couple would marry in 1998 because of Dworkin's ill health, despite Stoltenberg's being gay.)  Dworkin was a radical feminist writer and activist, and Stoltenberg was an editor, author, lecturer, playwright, theater critic.  Over his career he would edit Essence, Lear's, Working Woman, and AARP: The Magazine.  

Surprisingly, after more than 120 years the two porticoes have survived.  The W. M. Evarts and the U.S. Senate are the sole reminders that a once-revered statesman once lived on this corner.

photographs by the author

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