The 1838 Jacob Weeks House - 64 East Third Street

 

photograph by Carole Teller

Builder John Hanrahan erected two identical, brick-faced homes at 56 and 58 Third Street (renumbered 62 and 64 East 3rd Street in 1867) around 1838.  The 18-foot-wide residences were designed in the emerging Greek Revival style.  Intricate cast iron stoop railings wrapped the newels, which sat atop stone drums.  Typical of the style, the entrance was slightly recessed behind sturdy pilasters that supported a heavy stone entablature.  The doorway was flanked by narrow sidelights and topped by a three-part transom.  The third floor openings would have been slightly shorter than the others, and a simple wooden cornice would have completed the design.

Robert Carnley, the original owner of 58 Third Street, either quickly sold or rented the house to coal merchant Jacob Weeks.  He was born on Mott Street on June 25, 1803 and The New York Times later recalled, "His parents were English Quakers, of thrifty and industrious habits, and inculcated in their son almost from the cradle those lessons of economy and attention to business that laid the foundation of a large fortune."

Weeks operated three coal yards--on the Bowery, Greene Street and Houston Street.  He added another profession to his listing in the 1840 city directory: "builder."  The New York Times explained, "the universal up-town movement of population decided him to embark in real estate operations.  At that time, he occupied a modest mansion in Third-street."

In the rear yard, as was common at the time, was a smaller house.   Such structures were often used as rental income.  A Black family occupied the rear house of 58 Third Street in 1840.  They were terrified that spring when their son went missing.  An announcement in The Evening Post on May 20 read:

Missing--On the 5th instant, a colored boy, nine years old, named Lawrence Williams, left his home in a manner so mysterious that it thought he was kidnapped.  His complexion is rather light, has an impediment in his speech, and when he went away he was poorly dressed and barefooted.  Any information respecting him, left in the rear of 58 Third street, with his father Thomas Williams, would be gratefully received by his anxious parents.

Thomas M. Cornwell was a trusted clerk of Weeks and as early as 1843 he and his wife, Georgeana, boarded in the East 3rd Street house.  On April 27 that year, the New-York Tribune reported a shocking incident, saying that Jacob Weeks had been arrested "and committed for stealing $19 from the drawer of Thos. Cornwell, 58 Third-street."  The article prompted an immediate reaction from Jacob Weeks.

In fact, the perpetrator was David Roberts.  The following day, the newspaper published an apologetic correction, "owing to the mistake of our informant," and stressed that Jacob Weeks was "a highly respectable man."

The amiable employee-employer relationship was apparently strong and 15 years later the Cornwells were still living with the Weeks.  In October 1857, Georgeana gave birth to their first son, Thomas Jr.  Tragically, he died eight months later on May 15, 1858.

The Cornwells moved out shortly afterward.  Jacob and his wife remained until 1865.  By then, his real estate development business was flourishing.  For instance, he erected "a row of magnificent residences," as described by The New York Times, that engulfed the western blockfront of Fifth Avenue between 57th and 58th Streets.  (They would be replaced by the sprawling Cornelius Vanderbilt II mansion.)  When Jacob Weeks died on September 9, 1881 in his mansion at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 58th Street, he left an estate estimated "at from $3,000,000 to $4,000,000," according to The Times.  It would translate to about $95 million on the lower side in 2026.

In the meantime, the East 3rd Street house was rented to the David H. Goodman family.  Goodman ran a clothing business at 116 Chambers Street.  He and his wife suffered an unspeakable tragedy shortly after moving in.  On August 19, 1865, The New York Times reported that their five-year-old son, "was accidentally run over, and instantly killed" by a streetcar at Third Street and Second Avenue.

The Goodmans were replaced in the house around 1867 by Edward Mehl, who operated two saloons--one at 661 Broadway and the other at 156 Fulton Street--and his family occupied 64 East 3rd Street.  The Mehls remained at least through 1871.

The house was owned by William Hoertel as early as March 12, 1876 when he offered, "To Let--A second floor, furnished, suitable for a gentleman and wife; or will let separate to single gentlemen."  Hoertel quickly changed his mind, however, and two months later he sold the house to Jacob and Marie A. Kessler for $12,000 (about $362,000 today).

The Kesslers operated it as a boarding house.  Among the residents in 1879 were Conrad Latus, a meat dealer in the Centre Market; Michael W. Meagher, a stenographer; and Herman Wellhausen, who worked as a clerk.

After boarding here for at least four years, on July 1, 1883 Conrad and Catharine Latus purchased the house for $11,500.  Their young adult daughter, Kate, taught in the Primary Department of Grammar School No. 4 on Rivington Street.

As early as 1887, Dr. John F. Sherman lived here.  He operated his practice from the house, likely in the basement level.  He was called to a rooming house on the Bowery in January that year to attend Alice Collins, a 19-year-old girl who had attempted a self abortion.  She died on January 29 and Sherman "refused a death certificate," instead referring the case to the coroner.  The coroner's inquest discovered that Redfield Clarke, an actor, "had betrayed the girl."

Dr. John F. Sherman was intimately aware of "betrayal."  Five years earlier, when he was 24 years old and living with his mother and step-father on Clinton Street, he met a 15-year-old girl, Matilda L. Stowell.  The New-York Tribune said "he betrayed her under promise of marriage."  When Sherman's step-father, George Sherman, heard that he had "ruined" the teen, he threatened "to break every bone in his body," according to the New-York Tribune, if the young doctor did not marry her.  And Matilda's family threatened "with incarceration in Ludlow Street Jail."

The wedding took place on June 3, 1882, but the couple never lived together.  Now, on January 22, 1889 Sherman sought an escape from Matilda when she sued for support.  He applied in court to annul the marriage "on the ground that he was intoxicated when it took place," as reported by the New-York Tribune, and that he had been under intense pressure and threats.  Sherman told the court that he "is so upset by the persistent demands of his wife that he should live with her and by threats of publicity that he is unable to carry on his business as a physician."  (It is unclear how the case played out.)

Real estate operator Anna Maria Fronmuller purchased the house in April 1891 for $16,250--equal to about $578,000 today. Exactly one year later, on April 2, 1892, the Record & Guide reported that she had hired architects Boekell & Son to make the equivalent of  $124,000 today in renovations.  The house was enlarged with a three-story extension in the rear, "interior alterations" were made, and the exterior was given a Queen Anne-style re-do.

Decorated pressed metal cornices were applied over the lintels, and an elaborate entablature and pedimented cornice was placed over the entrance.  It was echoed in the corbeled terminal cornice with its triangular pediment.

64 East 3rd Street originally matched No. 62 next door.  When this photograph was taken in 1940, workers were painting the brick.  The Greek Revival stoop ironwork was intact.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The residents in the renovated home were middle-class.  On May 16, 1901, for instance, the Morning Telegraph reported, "Julius Harburger pushed his little cart Tuesday from 104 Second Avenue, his old home, to 64 East Third street, where he will abide in the future."  Harburger was an assemblyman, and in the cart were "the manuscripts of all the speeches" he had made "during the last thirty-one years," according to the newspaper that added, "He wouldn't let any one else touch them."

Julius Harburger was born on February 22, 1851.  He was elected president of the Tenth Assembly District in 1876 and to the New York State Assembly in 1876.  He would go on to become Coroner of New York City in 1905 and Sheriff of New York County in 1911.

Julius Harburger, from the collection of the Library of Congress

Harburger's wife, Hattie, was also politically active.  On October 6, 1901, The New York Times reported, "Mrs. Julius Harburger, wife of Assemblyman Harburger, and President of the Women's Democratic Club of the east side, presided at a meeting of the auxiliary Committee of the club" in the house.

Following the Harburgers in the house in 1902 was Dr. Solomon Goldenkranz, the city coroner.  (Ironically, Harburger would replace him in that position three years later.)  In 1902 Goldenkranz was disgruntled with the changes in the neighborhood.  He told a reporter from the New-York Tribune in August:

There is a row of houses in the next block where the passer on the street would have no difficulty in picking out evidence of the presence of vicious people.  Then in the cafes and billiard rooms there is a great deal of gambling going on.  These little German cafes, as well as some of the bigger Raines law hotels, are the resorts of people of this sort.

The mention of "Raine law hotels" referred to saloons that operated rooms upstairs for prostitution.

There was at least one person who was aggravated by Goldenkranz's appointment to coroner and, according to Goldenkranz, he "was conspiring to kill him."  So when two mysterious packages arrived at 64 East 3rd Street on December 6, 1901, Goldenkranz was certain they were bombs.  The New York Press reported that while "picking his steps with extreme care," he took the unopened packages to the Fifth Street Police Station.  He gently placed them on the desk and whispered to Acting Captain Churchill, "Infernal machines! I received them this morning in the mail."

Churchill refused to accept them and said, "We'll go right around to court."  He also refused to carry them, directing Goldenkranz to do so.

In the courtroom, Magistrate Mott scoffed, "Afraid of them, are you?  Pooh!  I'll open them."

As the court attendants stared, Mott opened the first package.  "There was revealed a piece of gaspipe, four inches long.  From one end protruded matches," said the article.  The mob whispered, "A bomb!"

Mott opened the second package.  It contained another piece of lead pipe.  But, like the first, it had no powder and no fuse.  The dummy bombs were apparently sent to Goldenkranz simply to alarm him.

During the World War I years, the Hartwell family occupied 64 East 3rd Street.  Early on, Albert Sydney Hartwell volunteered to fight in the war because of his family's ties to France.  The New-York Tribune said, "His mother is French, and he went overseas long before the United States declared war."  The young man fought on the French front and "was twice wounded in both legs when his ambulance was hit by shells and was gassed once," said the newspaper.

On June 5, 1919, The New York Times reported that 4,000 troops had arrived at Hoboken on the transport ships Patricia and St. Louis.  "The most decorated man on the St. Louis was Private Albert Sydney Hartwell of 64 East Third Street, who wore on his breast the Distinguished Service Cross, the Medal Militaire, and the Croix de Guerre with four stars."  The article added, "He is 21 years old."

The estate of Anna Fronmuller sold 64 East 3rd Street in January 1922 to Dr. Joseph I. Singer.  The New-York Tribune noted that he "plans extensive alterations."

photograph by Carole Teller

By the late 1968s, the house had been converted to four cooperative apartments.  The Greek Revival ironwork was replaced with modern examples and the 1892 entrance decoration was removed.  The 1838 interior doorway remains reasonably intact.

many thanks to artist Carole Teller for suggesting this post

The 1888 Fairchild Publishing Bldg - 10 East 13th Street

 

photograph by the author

Although the millionaires of lower Fifth Avenue had already begun moving northward by 1887, the news that John Glass intended to erect a six-story "brick warehouse" at 6 through 10 East 13th Street, just steps from the storied thoroughfare, must have shocked many.  Glass had hired 43-year-old architect Gilbert A. Schellenger to design the structure.  On February 4, 1888, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that the project would cost Glass $75,000--or about $2.6 million in 2026.  Construction was completed by the end of the year, and in December Glass sold the building to Eugene A. Hoffman, garnering a satisfying profit.  Hoffman paid $170,000 for the new building.

Schellenger had created an industrial take on the Renaissance Revival style.  Faced in red brick above a cast iron base, the midsection was divided into three three-bay-wide sections by full-height piers.  A Tuscan inspired arched corbel table ran below the sixth floor.  Schellenger compensated for the stoic appearance of the lower floors with ornate terra cotta ornaments, a frieze with a robust chain motif, and a crenelated parapet.

photograph by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Hoffman sold the property to the Butterick Publishing Company in 1896.  The firm was a household name among American housewives.  In 1863, Ebenezer Butterick had created the first graded sewing patterns, and three years later his sewing machine company began making women's dress patterns.  In 1867, he published the first issue of the Ladies Quarterly of Broadway Fashions.  The business became an enormous success with 100 branch offices in the United States and Canada.

Butterick Publishing Company hired architect Lansing C. Holden to make renovations at a cost of $30,000.  The alterations apparently affected only the interiors.  Court documents later explained that the building was "used and occupied as a storage warehouse [and] at no such times manufacturing or printing machinery was installed, operated or used therein."

On March 1, 1905, Butterick Publishing Company leased the building to the Carey Printing Company, also known as The Carey Press.  Founded in 1898 by Peter M. Carey, the firm specialized in posters, advertising materials and weekend newspaper supplements.  On December 10, 1906, for instance, Walden's Stationer and Printer reported, "The Cary [sic] Printing Company, 6 East Thirteenth street, is printing a very handsome calendar for the new year, which will be worked by the three color process."

The Burr McIntosh Monthly, December, 1908 (copyright expired)

Employees of The Carey Press were union members, a wise decision by the firm's management during the a time of tense labor relations.  In its April 1912 issue, The Typographical Journal reported about the contract Vechten-Waring Company, "a non-union printing firm," had landed with Crerand's Publications, including Crerand's Cloak Journal.  The article said that Vechten-Waring's superintendent had boasted "of his ability to turn out work with any kind of workmen."  That contract was short-lived.  The Typographical Journal said, "The first essay at the job was so rotten that the Crerand people canceled the contract and turned the work over to the Carey Press...a first-class union office."

In the spring of 1914, The Carey Printing Company merged with Friedman Print and moved to Tenth Avenue.  Two years later, on December 2, 1916, the Record & Guide reported that Butternick Publishing had sold 6-10 East 13th Street to Fairchild Brothers.  "The property will be altered for the purposes of the purchasers," said the article.

Fairchild Brothers was founded in 1892 by Edmund, Arthur and Louis E. Fairchild.  In 1910, it published the first issue of Women's Wear Daily, a trade journal that would become a must-read for businessmen and designers involved in the fashion business.  The American Printer explained, "Its volume of business having increased with remarkable consistency, a larger plant was made necessary, hence the purchase of the Butterick building."

A month after buying the building, on January 6, 1917, the Record & Guide reported that Fairchild Press had hired architect Charles E. Birge to make $50,000 in renovations.  The figure would translate to a staggering $1.3 million today.  As was the case with the Butterick Publishing remodeling, the changes were all inside.

On February 5, 1917, The American Printer reported that the former Butterick Building was "being completely remodeled," adding "The entire structure will be occupied by the Fairchild Press, printers of the Women's Wear and Daily News, daily trade papers, and the Men's Wear Director."

An all-male staff works in the editorial offices, while all-female typists work in another part of the Fairchild Publishing building.  photos by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Fairchild Publications operated from East 13th Street for three decades before the firm's astonishing success necessitated larger quarters.  On January 30, 1946, The New York Times reported, "Plans for a printing plant at 3-9 East Twelfth Street and 6-10 East Thirteenth Street to cost $1,000,000 were filed yeterday...by Fairchild Press, Inc."  Those plans were not entirely fulfilled and Fairchild moved to East 12th Street and 6-10 East 13th Street was spared.

The building became home to Bruns, Kimball & Co., distributors of yachts, marine engines and motorboats.   It was established in 1900 and heretofore been operating steps away at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 13th Street.

Yachting Magazine, 1932

On January 10, 1947, The New York Sun reported on Bruns, Kimball & Co.'s "twenty-six-foot Marlin sport fishing cruiser."  The article said it was "among the first of the post-war boats to be produced in quantity" adding:

The Marlin, in addition to being at the motor boat show, also is on exhibit at the Bruns Kimball & Co. display rooms, 10 East 13th street, along with a fleet of other cruisers, fishing boats, sailboats, outboards and dinghies.  Kermath inboard engines also are displayed, as they have been for the past thirty-five years that the firm has represented the manufacturers.

Motorboats and yachts were replaced by bicycles by the mid-1970s.  The Stuyvesant Bicycle shop now occupied the ground floor.  It added an innovative item to its stock in 1977, a "roller" that enabled apartment owners to transform their  regular bikes to stationary bicycles.

Stuyvesant Bicycle and the other tenants in the building would have to find new accommodations in 1979 when a renovation began to convert 6-10 East 13th Street to residences.  While preserving its cast iron pilasters, the ground floor was given a modern re-do.  Platform-like balconies were added to the facade and the parapet removed.  

image via miradorrealestate.com

The New York County Courthouse - 60 Centre Street

 

photograph by wallyg

Twenty-two architects submitted designs for a new New York County Courthouse in 1913.  Guy Lowell, a Boston architect, won the competition with his "round building."  On April 19, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide remarked that the substantial commission came with side effects.  "Mr. Lowell will have about two thousand working and detail drawings to prepare, and it will be necessary for him to engage a larger force of draftsmen and larger quarters."  The article added that from his $200,000 fee, about $130,000 of that would be eaten up by "office expenses."

The journal explained that the winning design would now go to "the Court House Board and their architect, Walter Cook," for approval.  That process would initiate the first domino to fall in a long string of disappointments and delays.  On June 21, 1913, the Record & Guide reported, "The justices of the Supreme Court rejected on Tuesday...Mr. Guy Lowell's court house plan."

The borough president invited a committee of five architects to suggest "modifications" to Lowell's circular plan.  They handed Lowell a number of suggested sketches and he subsequently "prepared modified sketches."  Nearly a year later, on May 16, 1916, the Record & Guide reported on the "modified design for the courthouse," saying that the exterior of the building was "only slightly changed."

Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, May 16, 1914 (copyright expired)

Lowell's task was, by no means, finished.  On April 24, 1913, the Record & Guide reported that the courthouse site had been "amended."  The article noted, "Guy Lowell, the architect, is to have the revised plan of the building ready by May 1.  He has a large force of draftsmen at work."

The revised Courthouse site.  Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, April 24, 1915 (copyright expired)

But red tape, construction costs, and a world war continued to retard the process of erecting a county courthouse.  Then, on November 29, 1919, seven years after Guy Lowell's initial design was accepted, the Record & Guide wrote, "Final action has been taken, after years of effort, upon the plan for a new County court house in Manhattan.  Radical changes, however, will be made in the structure in size, layout, and in cost."

Lowell's original plans projected the cost at between $15,000,000 and $20,000,000 (about $372 million in 2026 terms).  The article said, "The new court house is expected to cost about $6,000,000 and its completion is looked for in about two years.  It will be hexagonal in shape."  Lowell's revised design was "on a less elaborate scale."

Lowell released the revised downscaled rendering in December 1919.  Record & Guide December 20, 1919 (copyright expired)

The new hexagonal design provided for 32 courtrooms for the Supreme Court and ten for the City Court.  "The new Court House will be built of the same excellent materials and will have the same carefully worked out conveniences as the building originally planned," explained the Record & Guide on December 20, 1919.  The article detailed:

The entire exterior, including the porch, will be of granite of a warm tone.  A fine porch or portico will occupy the westerly one of the six sides, giving character and dignity to the building...The other five sides, occupied by the courts, depend for their architectural effect on careful composition--produced by the skillful balancing of void and well space, so that there are no columns or architectural projections to shut off light from the court room windows.

Excavation for the foundation had started in 1918, a year before that article.  And yet Lowell would have to make one more significant change.  On September 4, 1920, he explained in a letter to Fiorello La Guardia, president of the Board of Aldermen, that the granite--a part of the plans since 1913--was now too expensive to use.  He said in part, "we cannot afford all the enhancement that we could allow ourselves some years ago."  Explaining that limestone would be "$600,000 less than the available granite bid," he suggested the former material.  He said, "You see that, though I would have liked granite, I have not allowed my personal preferences to supersede my real wish, which is to give the city the best we can for the money."

Construction was once again delayed by an obstacle that never should have happened.  On November 23, 1920 the Washington D.C. Evening Star reported that the cartage firm Holland & Co. "began dumping ashes in the New York county courthouse excavation in February 1918, and continued doing so until recently."  Now, said the article, the city would have to spend "nearly $400,000 for removal of these ashes so that construction can be begun."

The dignified building sat alone upon its completion in 1927.  photograph by Wurts. Bros from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

In February 1927, 14 years after Guy Lowell first sat before his drafting table and two weeks after his death, the New York County Court House was completed.  The Record & Guide said, "From the porch a collonaded [sic] lobby on the first or main floor leads to the central rotunda."  It and that lobby, said the article, "are paved with marble and have limestone columns and dado."  

The Supreme Court rooms were on the third and fourth floors.  The fifth and sixth floors were set back "leaving a space which can be used as a terrace."  Those levels held the upper part of the two-story library, the justices' reading room, dining room, justice's chambers and such.  "Each Justice's chambers consists of a small vestibule, a secretary's room, and the chamber proper," explained the Record & Guide.

The first floor plan.  The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide December 20, 1919 (copyright expired)

The costly structure came with a restriction taken for granted today, but highly unusual in 1920.  On March 17, The New York Times reported, "Warning cards against smoking, such as are posted in factories, on which the penalties for violations are printed, confronted attorneys and others having business in the new New York County courthouse yesterday."

An outgrowth of the Great Depression was the Works Progress Administration, which provided jobs to out-of-work Americans.  One segment found work for artists, who suddenly found themselves decorating the walls and ceilings of civic buildings throughout the country.  Included in the massive project were the decorations of the corridors, rotunda, courtrooms and assembly rooms of the New York County Courthouse.

On July 26, 1934, the Springfield Weekly Republic quoted critic Edward Alden Jewell, who panned Attillio Pusteria's new foyer murals in the New York County Courthouse as too traditional.  

The ceiling of the foyer, decorated by Attilio Pusteria.  photo by Peter Vanderwarker from the collection of the Historical Society of the New York Courts.

He said they were "precisely the decorations one would expect to find beyond the massive Corinthian columns of the portico" and complained that they represent the "inevitable allegories, such as Justice, Judgement, Mercy and Enforcement."  Jewell grumbled that American artists were being forced "to paint in the manner of Raphael."

The rotunda with its inlaid marble floors, limestone columns and 1934 dome decoration.  photo by Peter Vanderwarker from the collection of the Historical Society of the New York Courts.

Another group complained about the decoration.  But, unlike Jewell, they were not indignant about the artistic rendering, but about one particular image.  On December 19, 1936, The Detroit Tribune reported that "after a protest had been made by Harlem leaders," the Municipal Art Commission had agreed "that the WPA mural in the New York County Courthouse showing a colored man eating watermelon was 'frivolous,' and said the offending picture would be erased and something else substituted."

The New York County Courthouse became, of course, the scene of hearings and trials from the mundane to the most sensational.  In September 1938, Tammany District Leader James J. Hines, accused of "selling political protection to the underworld," was prosecuted by fledgling District Attorney Thomas E. Dewey.  Hines smugly walked out of the courthouse surrounded by a throng of reporters on September 12.  The Washington D.C. Evening Star explained that the judge "ordered a mistrial yesterday on the grounds that the youthful prosecutor by a verbal slip had 'fatally prejudiced' the jury against the white-haired political boss."

And on December 20, 1952, The New York Times began an article saying, "The man generally considered the most feared figure in the underworld was the principal witness at yesterday's hearing into waterfront conditions by the State Crime Commission.  He was Albert Anastasia, and his defiant appearance on the stand was the most dramatic incident of the hearings to date."

When the New York County Courthouse first opened, one of its elevator operators was Dominick Lupiano, a 48-year-old immigrant from Italy who had run an elevator in the old courthouse building for several years.  Decades later, the Washington D.C. Evening Star would say that he and his wife, Roselle, "scrimped" to put their son, Vincent, through law school.  On one occasion, State Supreme Court Justice Robert F. Wagner, Sr. mentioned to Lupiano, "One day, Dominick, you may be taking one of your own sons up to his own chambers.  In this country anything is possible, you know."

Lupiano retired after 40 years of service.  But the now-84-year-old came back on January 4, 1955.  That day Vincent A. Lupiano was sworn in as a justice of the State Supreme Court.  The Evening Star said:  "After the swearing-in ceremony, Dominick Lupiano donned his old elevator operator's uniform cap with a flourish.  Beaming, he escorted Justice Vincent Lupiano to the elevator and took him upstairs to his chambers."

Another set of high profile trials was held here in 1970.  Sixteen members of the Black Panthers were tried on "charges of conspiring to bomb Manhattan department stores, the Bronx Botanical Gardens, police stations, subway switching-rooms and railroad tracks," said The New York Times on February 1.  (The trials ended with mixed guilty pleas, murder convictions and dismissed charges.)

In March 1988, the restoration of the rotunda mural, Law Through the Ages, was initiated.  Somewhat surprisingly, The New York Times reported that the project "is being paid for by lawyers and judges in the building."

photograph by Beyond My Ken

Guy Lowell's dignified and stately Roman Classical style structure has not only been the venue of serious legal trials, but it has inspired producers throughout the decades.  The broad exterior staircase and monumental columns have appeared in countless movies and television shows.  And it remains a crucial element in the architectural personality of Foley Square.

Le Brun's 1889 Hook & Ladder Co. 14 - 120 East 125th Street

 

image via the Historic Districts Council

In 1865, "suburban" fire companies were established in the mostly rural Harlem district.  Less busy than their urban counterparts, the fire fighters were given less pay and no horse-drawn equipment.  Included in these companies was Suburban Ladder No. 14 at 120 East 125th Street.

As Harlem developed, Suburban Ladder No. 14 was replaced by Hook & Ladder Company 14 on January 1, 1868.  Still using the station house on December 18, 1881, the New York Dispatch described the company as "one of the best truck companies in the upper part of the city.  It has good officers and men, the latter being under excellent discipline."  But in 1888, the company was in serious need of modern accommodations.

A year earlier, on June 18, 1887, The Real Estate Record & Guide commented that fire stations were an exception to the very few "decent-looking" buildings erected by the city.  "The Fire Department...had the good sense to employ architects of repute to design their buildings, and selected Messrs. N. Le Brun & Son for that purpose."  Napoleon Le Brun had been appointed official architect for the department in 1879.  Before the turn of the century he and his son would be responsible for the design of 42 fire houses.  

Napoleon Le Brun & Son filed plans for a "four-story brick building" on April 27, 1888, projecting the cost at $16,500--or about $576,000 in 2026.  Using a variation of its typical Queen Anne design, the firm added touches of Romanesque Revival in the undressed brownstone base, the medieval decoration carved into the second floor lintel, the rounded stone piers at the sides that terminated in carved finials, and the creative wrought-iron jib, or bracket, in the form of a dragon.  (The jib was used to haul hay bales to the attic.)  Le Brun & Son stepped away from both styles in designing the attic as a slate-shingled mansard in the Second Empire style.

Perhaps the first tragedy for Hook & Ladder Company 14 came on June 9, 1895.  Patrick Conlin had been with the company since 1883 when he was 25.  He was headed to work at 2:15 that afternoon when an alarm of fire at 165 East 112th Street came in.  The truck raced down Lexington Avenue "at full speed," as reported by The New York Times.  The article said, "he saw the truck going by and made a run to jump on the long rail which extends along the side of the truck."  Conlin slipped and fell.  The rear wheels "passed over Conlin's body, leaving him mangled and unconscious."  The 37-year-old died later that afternoon.

Rescues from burning buildings in the 19th century sometimes required dangerous, nearly gymnastic, tactics.  On September 29, 1896, Hook & Ladder Company 14 responded to a fire at 2365 Third Avenue.  When they arrived, the fire had engulfed the first floor and spread to the second.  Frederick Thompson, who occupied rooms on the fourth floor, had been asleep and was the only tenant not to escape.  Two firefighters, Thomas Corrigan and John Lutz, "saw his predicament and hastened to the rescue."

They went to the top floor of the the three-story building next door.  The Sun reported,  "Corrigan stood with one foot on the cornice of the house and reached with the other foot to the lintel of the third story of the burning house, at the same time grasping the sill of Thompson's window."  When he was certain of "the firmness of his grasp on the window sill," Corrigan threw his other arm around Thompson's waist and drew him across the void.  

Corrigan straddled the cornice and lintel of two buildings to rescue the victim.  The Sun, September 30, 1896 (copyright expired)

The Sun said, "When Lutz had taken Thompson in his grasp and drew him over on the roof a cheer went up from the crowd below, and the cheer was repeated when Corrigan climbed to the roof from his perilous position, and all three were safe."

The company's truck was pulled by three horses, the oldest of which was Paddy, who was always in the center.  The company acquired him in 1871 when he was six years old.  At the time of Corrigan's and Lutz's remarkable rescue, Paddy was "if not the oldest horse in the department, he was one of the oldest," said the New York Herald two years later.

Paddy had an unexpected best buddy, Chief, described by the newspaper as "a splendid greyhound."  In 1891, Chief was brought to the station house as a puppy.  The New York Herald said he "blundered" into Paddy's stall.  The firefighters were alarmed, expecting "to see him kicked or trampled."  Instead, "the big horse only put his head down inquiringly, and Chief licked his nose in token of good fellowship.  From that time the two were fast friends."  Every evening, Chief would bed down on the straw in a corner of Paddy's stall.  When an alarm would ring, Chief would bark, Paddy would whinny "with all the power of his throat" and the greyhound would race through the streets next to the galloping horses.

At 4:00 on the morning of August 19, 1897, Chief began wailing.  Some of the firefighters, said the New York Herald, "yelled at Chief and told him to be quiet, but he only clamored the louder."  Captain Terpeny send a man down to see what was wrong.  "That dog isn't carrying on that way for fun," he said.  And he was right.

The article said, "The big horse was very sick and his friend had been calling for help."  The FDNY's veterinarian diagnosed Paddy with cholic.  The New York Herald reported:

The horse became weaker and weaker, and finally fell down.  Chief stayed with him, licking his face and howling mournfully until the end, which was about 7 o'clock.  Then it was with great difficulty that the men got him out of the stall.

The newspaper concluded the article saying, "There is talk of giving the horse a ceremonial burial, with Chief as principal mourner."

via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

On February 1, 1907, the New-York Tribune reported that the station house of Hook & Ladder Company 14 would be receiving updates by architect Edward L. Middleton.  The renovations, costing the equivalent of more than $700,000 today, included "new concrete and iron floors...for the apparatus and the sliding pole floor opening enlarged."

The new floors had much to do with modern motorized equipment.  Hook & Ladder Company 14's speedy fire trucks greatly impressed Walter J. Albert in 1922.  On the night of May 1 that year he made "a little wager" with two friends, as described by the New-York Tribune.  He bet them that Engine 14 "could get from its house at 120 East 125th Street to the [alarm] box at 133d Street and Madison Avenue in three minutes."  The friends took the bet and Albert pulled the alarm.

The newspaper said, "When Albert was caught near the box at 133d Street the firemen were in a mood to cripple him.  It was the third time they had been called out on false alarms."  The article said that Patrolman Patrick Cushen, who caught Albert, "had to protect him from the irate fireman."

At the station house, Albert confessed that he was betting on the speed of the fire engine.

"Did you win?" asked one of the detectives.

"Naw, they were two minutes slow."

By the second half of the 20th century, the personality of the congested Harlem neighborhood around the firehouse had greatly changed.  City employees like policemen and firefighters were often viewed with suspicion and derision.  At around 2:00 on the morning of December 27, 1961, Hook & Ladder Company 14's truck was passing a crowd outside a bar at Park Avenue and 123rd Street.  Suddenly a bottle smashed against the side of the fire truck.  The New York Times reported that the truck stopped "and a fight ensued."

The article said, "The street fight was broken up by an unidentified railroad detective.  He drew his pistol and forced back the crowd as it pummeled the firemen."  In the end, four fire fighters and one civilian were injured.  

In 1975, Hook & Ladder Company 14 was relocated to 2282 Third Avenue.  Its former firehouse was officially decommissioned in 2003.  Napoleon Le Brun & Son's striking firehouse sat vacant and neglected for years.  Then, on August 31, 2014, The Real Deal reported, "An abandoned 19th-century firehouse in East Harlem is getting a new lease on life as a cultural center."

Six years earlier, Council Speaker Melissa Mark-Viverito had saved the structure from the auction block by promising that it would be repurposed as a cultural center.  The Real Deal reported, "Now the Caribbean Cultural Center African Diaspora Institute has been selected as the building's developer."  The Daily News reported that the organization would spent $5.5 million on restoration and renovations to the building.

photograph by Steven Bornholtz

Today, the Caribbean Cultural Center African Diaspora Institute's website explained that it "preserves and presents African Diaspora cultures, promoting arts and culture as tools for personal transformation, community-building, and social justice."

The Charles and Kate A. Katz House - 53 West 87th Street

 

In 1891, James Livingston broke ground for a row of upscale rowhouses on West 87th Street between Central Park West and Columbus Avenue.  Designed by Thom & Wilson in the Renaissance Revival style, they were completed the following year.  Among them was 53 West 87th Street.  Like the others, it was four stories tall above an English basement and faced in brownstone.  A dog-legged box stoop rose to the rusticated parlor level.  A rounded bay crowned by a stone balustrade dominated the second floor.  

Livingston retained possession of the house for years, finally selling it to Cornelius and Clarissa Outwater Doremus in March 1898 for $38,000 (about $1.4 million in 2026).  Born in 1842 and 1843, respectively, the couple had three children, Fred S., Myra, and Cornelia Adelaide (who went by her middle name).  

Doremus was president of the Germania Life Insurance Company, described by The Sun as "one of the largest insurance companies in New York."

Cornelius Doremus, Empire State Notables, 1914 (copyright expired)

Because Cornelia Adelaide had already been debuted in 1896, her name appeared next to her mother's when The New York Times reported on January 5, "Mrs. Cornelius Doremus and Miss Cornelia Doremus of 53 West Eighty-seventh Street have announced the first and third Wednesdays as their days for receiving."

That winter social season would be the last for the Doremus family in the house.  That year they sold it to Charles and Kate Anna Glatz.  The couple had two daughters, Elise Pauline and Henrietta Caroline.  (Henrietta had married Joseph Schauweker in 1893 and they lived in Cleveland.)  

Charles Glatz was born in Switzerland on June 29, 1836.  He was the founder and principal of the C. Glatz & Co., which manufactured watch cases, and he was highly involved in real estate operations.

Charles Glatz (original source unknown)

The Glatzes' new home was the scene of Elise's wedding to Harry Canfield on April 20, 1897.  The newlyweds moved to Brooklyn where their only child, Catherine Flavia, was born.

In 1904, Charles Glatz was taxed "as the possessor of personal property to the amount of $10,000," as reported by The New York Times.  Glatz protested, swearing "that all of his securities were in railroad stocks and bonds, which are exempt, as they pay taxes in other ways," explained the newspaper.  The assessment was canceled.  

The following year, the assessors, recalling the incident, did not charge Glatz any property tax.  On February 25, 1905, The New York Times reported, "President O'Donnell of the Tax Board is suffering from a severe nervous shock.  Something happened in his department yesterday the like of which he never dreamed of even in his rosiest moments."  Charles Glatz had stopped by the office to explain that he had disposed of some of his railroad stock "and now had $20,000 worth of personal property which should be taxed," said the article.  Glatz's commendable honesty cost him $300 in taxes--about $11,300 today.

Like many wealthy New Yorkers, the Glatzes sometimes spent their summer season in Europe.  That necessitated the closing of their townhouse and laying off the staff.  In such cases, employers would often attempt to help servants find positions.  On February 2, 1905, for instance, Kate Anna advertised, "A lady closing her home wishes to place a competent waitress to assist chamberwork; some time in her employ."  And an ad that appeared in the New-York Tribune on April 25, 1909 read, "A gentleman going abroad wishes a situation for his coachman, who has served him faithfully several years."

Harry Canfield died in 1909 at the age of 41 and Elise moved back to 53 West 87th Street, bringing along her daughter, Catherine.

Charles Glatz died in the West 87th Street house at the age of 83 on August 16, 1919.  His funeral was held in the drawing room on August 18.  

Kate Anna received Charles's estate, "estimated at more than $100,000," as reported by The New York Times.  (The common practice of releasing "more than" figures in reporting on estates cloaked the totals and protected the heirs' privacy.  Even at that, the $100,000 figure would translate to nearly $2 million today.)  Upon Kate Anna's death, the estate would be divided equally between Henrietta and Elise, explained the article.

On November 17, 1920, Elise announced Catherine Flavia Canfield's engagement to Leighton Elliott, who lived in Toronto.  In reporting the engagement, The New York Times noted, "During the war Mr. Elliott served as a First Lieutenant in the Royal Canadian Field Artillery."  The couple was married in the Hotel Gotham on June 11, 1921.

Kate Anna Glatz died in the West 87th Street house on February 17, 1922 at the age of 80.  As had been the case with her husband, her funeral was held in the drawing room two days later.

Henrietta and Elise sold the house nine months later to real estate operator Frederick Brown.  In reporting the transaction on November 7, 1922, the New-York Tribune mentioned, "The building contains fourteen rooms and two baths."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Brown resold 53 West 87th Street three months later for $45,000 (about $850,000 today).  The New York Times reported on February 8, 1923 that the house "will be altered into a five-story apartment house with four rooms and two baths on each floor."  The unnamed buyer, however, apparently changed his mind.  On June 19, the newspaper reported that James Bocalos had purchased it "for occupancy."

The Kusche family occupied 53 West 87th Street at midcentury.  In 1955, at a time when some teenagers were seen as delinquents, the teens on the West 87th Street block turned to neighborhood improvement.  On December 4, 1955, The New York Times reported, "Eleven youngsters on West Eighty-seventh Street became gardeners yesterday morning, when seventeen London plane trees were planted on their block."  The article said the teenagers wore "shiny, new green and yellow buttons signifying their membership on the junior committee of the Eighty-seventh Street park Block Association."

"The tree planting is the first project of the two-month-old block group," said the article.  "By spring, the association hopes to have planted ten more trees."  Willie Kusche was the junior committee chairman.  He explained that each tree would be assigned to a "patrol member" who was responsible for its care.

A renovation completed in 1970 resulted in two apartments per floor.  That configuration lasted until a remodeling in 1999-2000 returned 53 West 87th Street to a single family home.  

It became home to Tony Award winning actress Judith Ivey and her husband.  Born in 1951, Ivey won the Tony for Best Featured Actress in a Play twice--for her 1981 role in Steaming, and her 1984 performance in Hurlyburly.  She was nominated for Best Actress in a Play for Park Your Car in Harvard Yard in 1992.  Her first film appearance was the female lead role in the 1984 The Lonely Guy.  She would go on to appear in numerous films, including Brighton Beach Memoirs, Compromising Positions, and Women Talking.

In 2011, a year before Ivey would be nominated for Best Featured Actress in a Play for the 2012 revival of The Heiress, Ivey sold 53 West 87th Street.  

Other than replacement windows, little has changed externally to the vintage house over its 135 years.

photographs by the author