The 1892 437-439 West 44th Street

 

photograph by Anthony Bellov

On May 30, 1891, Samuel Hirsch purchased two four-story frame houses at 437 and 439 West 44th Street from Garret A. and Eliza Wanmaker.  Two weeks later, on June 13, the Record & Guide reported that contractor John B. Lowther "will build a five-story flat on the plot," saying the "old buildings are to be torn down."  The project was a tangled affair--Hirsch had sold the properties to William G. Jordan, who became owner of record for the coming building.  Upon its completion, Jordan sold it to Hirsch.  The back-and-forth transactions would result in lawsuits later.

The brick-faced building was a mélange of styles.  The first and fifth floors drew mostly from Romanesque Revival.  The windows of the first floor took the form of large arches within striking frames of beige Roman brick.  The stone hood over the entrance with its foliate brackets, however, was Renaissance Revival.

The entrance pilasters and hood were removed in the second half of the 20th century.  Deft brickwork creates the striking first floor surrounds and the faux quoins at the second.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

The three-story mid-section was clad in red brick and trimmed in brownstone.  The splayed lintels and the faux quoins--created by using the same beige brick of the first floor--were neo-Colonial in style.  An interesting intermediate cornice of stepped brick introduced the fifth floor.  Here, an Arts & Crafts style full-width panel with rosettes ran above the arched openings.  A deeply overhanging metal cornice completed the design.

Among the first occupants of the large apartments (there were two per floor) was Dr. A. L. Gnichtel.  At around 9:00 on the night of September 18, 1893, he answered a frantic knock at his door.  Living directly across the street, at 441 West 44th Street, were George Simmons and his unmarried sister, Martha.  George was a "wire-worker" and Martha, according to The Evening Post, "has been an invalid for thirteen years."  She had suffered a serious bout of influenza earlier that year.  The newspaper said, "Ever since an attack of grip last spring, her mind has been more or less affected, and she had to be watched constantly."

That night, George discovered his sister, "lying on the floor covered with blood, with the razor in her hand."  Martha had cut her throat.  Fortunately, Dr. Gnichtel was nearby.  He rushed across the street and dressed the wound before sending her to Bellevue Hospital.  The Evening Post said she, "may recover."

Dr. Gnichtel regularly published articles in medical journals, and was an associate editor of The Medical Examiner and Practitioner.  

The residents of 437-439 West 44th Street were affluent enough that at least one, merchant John B. McCuag, could afford a bicycle--a rabidly popular and pricey hobby in the 1890s.  On October 10, 1897, he accidentally hit a dog but, instead of stopping, pedaled on.  The World sarcastically reported, "A very unappreciative woman is Mrs. Foley.  When John B. McCaug, of No. 439 West Forty-fourth street, rode his wheel bravely over her pet dog and still kept his equilibrium, she did not realize that he had performed a feat worthy of applause, but on the contrary raised a din compared to which the tuneful cayoodling of the canine was as a tempest to a whisper."  

The enraged Mrs. Foley pursued McCuag.  Her cries attracted Policeman Beadle who "overhauled him."  The World reported that the "dog and man and irate woman faced the majesty of the law and Magistrate Hedges," and recounted:

"It seems to me your dog has not been injured," said the Magistrate.  "I will discharge the prisoner."

"Oh, sir," implored the woman, with a look of fond appreciation toward her pet.  "Don't do that.  He may feel worse to-morrow."

But the Magistrate was firm, and McCuag went his way.

McCuag would appear in a more positive light when he donated $5.00 to The Merchants' Association of New York's Relief Fund for the victims of the San Francisco earthquake and fire.  (His donation would translate to about $180 in 2025.)

Among the residents in 1909 were H. Thomas Stevenson and  William H. Martin.  That year Martin and two partners incorporated The Eccentric Packing & Engineers' Supply Co.  Stevenson was an elder in the Faith Presbyterian Church on West 48th Street.

R. E. Bartlett was looking for a job in January 1913.  Her highly unusual advertisement in The New York Times read:

Housekeeper or Governess:  Public school teacher possessing voice, rare quality, judged by masters, desires position for purpose continuing study; five years' experience house manager and cooking; Protestant; age 25.  Write or call, 7 to 9 P.M., R. E. Bartlett, 437 West 44th St.

Another resident placed a somewhat unexpected advertisement in the New York Evening Telegram in 1916:  "Hawaiian steel guitar taught by one knowing correct style of Hawaiian playing.  Cunningham, 437-439 West 44th."

Finley W. Gilpin was born in Winterset, Iowa in 1875 and relocated to New York City in 1910.  The actor appeared "in stock productions in this city and in New England," said the New-York Tribune.  When his brother, Victor G. Gilpin, who lived in Brooklyn, could not get in touch with him on September 5, 1920, he went to his apartment to check on him.  The New York Times reported, "With jets open and his room filled with gas, Philip [sic] Gilpin, 45 years old, was found dead in bed at his home."  Victor told reporters that "his brother had been despondent of late because he had been out of work," said the article.

Prohibition turned some respectable citizens into criminals, like laborer Frank Rodell, who lived here in 1925.  On September 3, The New York Times reported that he and three others had been arrested "on charges of transporting and attempting to smuggle liquor into this port."  They were in cahoots with French sailors.  The four men had gone to the French liner De Grasse--two in a sailboat and two on foot--in the cover of night.  The pair who boarded the ship met 10 sailors who, according to the newspaper, "aided them in getting thirty quarts of champagne and forty quarts of brandy into burlap bags which were lowered over the ship's side into the junk boat."

All four then sailed northward, but they did not get far.  The marine police's Patrol Boat 7 overtook them at 58th Street.  Questioned by officials, Rodell and his accomplices refused to disclose the names of the French sailors.

Another resident to run afoul of Prohibition agents was Gaetano Venturereio.  On January 23, 1932, Federal agents raided the Michael Laura Club, "an important Italian-American Democratic unit," as described by The New York Times.  The article said there were about a dozen patrons in the club when undercover agents "went immediately to the barroom in the rear."  They later testified that they "purchased a drink of whisky for 75 cents."  A search revealed "a considerable quantity of alleged liquor."  Among the four men arrested as running the club was Gaetano Venturereio.

Resident Mario Friaglia, a pedophile, was rescued by police on August 8, 1938.  That evening the 23-year-old had convinced two girls, six and eight years old, to meet him in a vacant lot.  One of the girls told her parents.  It would not be his intended victims who were waiting for him.  Instead, Friaglia met with what The New York Sun described as "a menacing mob."  Police arrived and "save him" from street justice.  Friaglia pleaded guilty to morals charges.

In 1941 workers were on site to paint the recently-installed fire escapes.  The entrance hood and the cornice were intact.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Law enforcement was much more focused on another resident, John "Apple" Applegate, who listed his profession as a longshoreman.  Applegate was, in fact, an "enforcer" with the Bowers mob.  A bachelor, he was arrested under the name of Joseph Lawson in 1933 for burglary and sentenced to Sing Sing for two-and-a-half years.  Now paroled, he operated from 437-439 West 44th Street.

In December 1946, he and Vincent Wice got into a fight in a bar and grill on Tenth Avenue.  Wice slashed Applegate's face with a broken bottle resulting in his hospitalization and subsequent plastic surgery.  Applegate did not forget the incident.

Time magazine later said that "Apples" instructed Dominick Genova, "This guy has got to go and I want somebody...to take care of him."  Six months later, on June 15, 1947, Wice was on West 47th Street between Tenth and Eleventh Avenues when, despite the throngs of pedestrians around him, he was murdered by a machine gun wielding assailant.  The New York Times reported that the 42-year-old Applegate, "was booked as a material witness" in the murder.  After 18 hours of questioning at the station house and further interrogation at the District Attorney's office the following morning, Applegate still insisted he knew nothing of the murder and never met Wice.

The net would slowly close in on Applegate.  On September 4, 1952, The New York Times reported that the New York State Crime Commission had subpoenaed the financial records of "Joseph (or John) (alias John Lawson) Applegate."  The mobster was most likely shocked when one of the Commission's star witnesses against Applegate was Dominick Genova.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

Around the Depression years, an Art Moderne-style fire escape was installed on the facade.  Later, after 1941, the stone entrance frame and hood were removed and the cornice taken down.  Despite the vandalism, the eccentric 1892 building survives relatively intact.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post