photograph by Anthony Bellov
At the turn of last century, the mansions that lined West End Avenue were being rapidly demolished and replaced with apartment buildings. While most developers accumulated several properties to accommodate their projects, in 1904 James H. Havens settled for just one plot--at 851 West End Avenue between 101st and 102nd Streets. He hired the architectural firm of Neville & Bagge to design a six-story apartment building on the site.
Completed in January 1905, the architects' Colonial Revival design was faced in beige Roman brick above a limestone base. The double-doored entrance sat above a short stoop. On either side were fluted pilasters that upheld an entablature that boldly announced "Latona Hall." The scrolled design of the charming wrought iron railings on either side of the porch were reflected in the handsome, hand-wrought fire escapes above. Splayed limestone lintels decorated the windows of the second through fifth floors. Neville & Bagge strayed from the Colonial motif with the fussy, French-inspired terminal cornice.
An advertisement for Latona Hall in the New York Herald on January 25, 1905 said, "Leases are now being made for these attractive five room and bath Apartments; private phone and hall service." (Hall service referred to the uniformed hall boys on hand to help with packages, deliver mail, and execute other errands.) Rents ranged from $38 to $43--the most expensive translating to $1,580 per month in 2025.
Among the initial residents were George Gallagher and his wife. On the afternoon of March 18, 1905, Mrs. Gallagher left to see the matinee of The College Widow at the Garden Theatre. On her way there, she visited a friend, who gave her a Maltese cat as a gift. The Sun reported, "Rather than make another trip to the friend's house she took the cat to the matinee and had it checked at the cloakroom." The attendant put the cat in a box, cutting slits on the side so it could breathe. The Sun said flatly, "The cat didn't like it."
Following the play, Mrs. Gallagher attempted to claim her cat. The article said, "the cover was off the box and the cat was gone." On March 23, Mrs. Gallagher demanded the price of the lost feline. "She says the cat is valuable," said The Sun, which continued, "If the cat doesn't come back she demands its cash value." The reporter ended the story saying, "The cat has not come back."
Other white collar residents at the time were B. Sterling Bottome, who worked as a court stenographer; dentist Walter B. Douglas; and Mrs. Elmer Hassan, who operated a "girl's nature camp" in New Hampshire during the summer months.
The very respectable Dr. Walter B. Douglas was the subject of awkward press coverage in the summer of 1907. Like hundreds of Manhattanites, on June 13, he went to Coney Island to enjoy a day at the beach. That evening, he was dining in Feltman's restaurant on Surf Avenue when something went very wrong. The next morning The New York Times reported that he and the head waiter of Feltman's were "both prisoners."
According to Dr. Douglas, William Kennedy "struck him." The waiter was arrested and charged with felonious assault. The dentist, too, was arrested, charged with disorderly conduct. The New York Times reporter was somewhat perplexed, saying that while Kennedy, who had been charged with a felony, "was allowed to remain out of a cell." On the other hand, "The dentist, who says the waiter struck him, and against whom was made only the charge of disorderly conduct, was locked up."
William H. and Cecilia Gilmore were married in London, England, on July 25, 1903. Their daughter, Ruth, was born on October 19, 1906, and in 1908 the family moved to New York City and into Latona Hall. Three years later, the Gilmores' domestic bliss crumbled. According to Cecilia, at the beginning of 1911 William started treating her "in a cruel and inhuman manner." On July 25, she asked him what had made him change, and he replied, "that he was tired of living with her and wanted her to give him a divorce, and that she would be 'bloody mean' if she did not."
When Cecilia asked why he wanted a divorce he would not respond, saying only "that if she did not hold her 'rotten jaw' he would hit her with the heaviest thing he could lay his hands on." According to Cecilia, little Ruth, who was now five years old, cried, "You must not talk that way to mama."
Finally, on August 11, 1911, William told Cecilia that he was having an affair and that if she did not divorce him, "he was going to make a scandal by living under the same roof" with his mistress. Cecilia responded by fainting "for the first time of her life," according to court papers.
The divorce was granted. William was directed to pay Cecilia a token of $1.00 a year alimony, and $720 each year in child support.
Actress Nellie Morgan lived here at the time. The Evening World explained that she "is employed by a moving picture concern as an actress in the film plays." On December 14, 1912, she was on a crowded subway car that pulled into the Time Square Station. Also in the car was undercover Detective Finn, who witnessed a man open her handbag and take out a small purse. As passengers filed out of the car, Finn pursued the pickpocket, telling the conductor to hold the train.
When Finn caught up with the man, he was still holding Nellie Morgan's pocketbook. "The detective brought his prisoner back to the train and found the woman," said The New York Times. Nellie identified her pocketbook, which contained two diamond rings valued at $300. As Finn started away with his prisoner, the man fell to his knees and "pleaded with Miss Morgan and the detective to let him go."
Nellie told Finn, "This is Christmas time, and I am willing to be lenient if you are."
Less sympathetic were the other passengers, whose train had been held up for nearly 20 minutes, already. "The crowd insisted that the woman press the charge against the prisoner," said the newspaper. When Finn refused to release the man, "Miss Morgan became hysterical and then fainted." Happily for her (and the impatient passengers) there was a doctor in the car who revived her. In the meantime, "Finn took the pocketbook, the rings, and the prisoner to the West Forty-seventh Street Station, where he was locked up, charged with grand larceny."
Two months later, Nellie Morgan was in court as a witness in Charles Winters's hearing. On February 11, 1913, The Evening World said she, "seemed in a very sympathetic and forgiving mood and even temporized to the extent of saying she was not sure Winters had opened her handbag." Her unusual compassion led Judge Swann to question her. She admitted that Winter's mother, sister "and other relatives had visited her in her home at No. 851 West End avenue, and had begged her not to testify against the young man," said The Evening World. Despite Nellie Morgan's protests, the detective's testimony convicted the purse snatcher.
Latona Hall continued to attract middle class, professional tenants. Living here in 1925 were newlyweds Sherman and Dorothy Anne Skinker Hooker. Dorothy graduated from Barnard College in 1915 and worked as a high school teacher. In 1926, a Dr. Raboniwitsch moved into the building.
Much less respectable were Harold Worthington Doman and Louis Zeno, who shared an apartment here. In 1923, Vivian Gordon was arrested for prostitution by vice officer Andrew B. McLaughlin. Years later, McLaughlin was investigated for corruption and was accused of "framing" Vivian Gordon. His trial was scheduled for March 5, 1931. Vivian Gordon would not appear in the courtroom. Eight days before the trial, her brutalized body was discovered dumped in Van Cortland Park.
A search of her apartment discovered Vivian's diary, which revealed her involvement with gamblers, gangsters and prostitutes, prompting the New York Mirror to call her the "queen of the underworld." The contents quickly turned attention to the Doman-Zeno apartment at 851 West End Avenue.
The New York Sun reported on March 4, 1931, "Doman and Zeno were picked up late yesterday after an all-day search for the former...This address and the occupants were mentioned frequently in the diary." The Albany Evening News reported that the pair "admitted they had lived at 851 West End avenue, an address described in the diary as 'a terrible place.'"
An entry on February 28, 1931 told of Vivian's visit to a girl's apartment in the Palace Hotel. "I was nearly killed. Went down fire escape to escape more," she said. "I went to 851 West End. Zeno [arrived] about 10:15 Saturday a.m. Doctor came. Ye gods, concussion of brain, two broken ribs, bruises from head to foot. 851 West End terrible place." Although Doman and Zeno were held for questioning, they were not arrested.
The following year, Latona Hall appeared in the news for another underworld-related incident. On February 13, 1932, The Yonkers Statesman reported on a gang slaying in Riverdale. A suspicious car had previously been seen where the body was found, "on the cliff overlooking the Spuyten Duyvil Station of the New York Central," said the article. "Police said the machine, which is owned by Joseph Gsainsky of 851 West End Avenue, might have been used in the shooting of a detective downtown."
The Georgiaes family lived here around mid-century. Helen Georgiaes was 17 years old in 1957, when she met 22-year-old John Antonacci. He telephoned her in January and sweet talked her into living with him. The Long Island Star Journal said he lured her "from her home on a promise he would marry her when she became 18." Helen met Antonacci in front of a Jackson Heights theater. "They rented a room in Woodside and remained there for 21 days," said the article.
Back at Latona Hall, Helen's father, Sonofronios Georgiaes, "took a dim view of the proceeding and ordered Antonacci...arrested on abduction charges." The lothario was arraigned on February 24.
Latona Hall is little changed after 120 years. Even its graceful, hand-wrought stoop railings have survived intact.
many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post






No comments:
Post a Comment