Wednesday, September 16, 2026

The Rosenmiller Drugstore Building - 172 Eighth Avenue

 


In 1843, John Hoey and his family lived above his grocery store at 172 Eighth Avenue.  The three-story, brick-faced building was a near match to several Greek Revival-style store-and-house structures recently built on the avenue.  The residential entrance, flanked by narrow sidelights, sat above two steps.  Typical of the style, the upper floors included unassuming brownstone lintels and a modest wooden cornice. 

The Greek Revival entrance to the upper floors was relatively intact as late as 1940.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

As early as 1848, Lewis Adolphus Rosenmiller's pharmacy shared the ground floor with Hoey's grocery.  Rosenmiller's family moved into the upper floors and the Hoey family relocated to 187 West 20th Street.

Born on February 14, 1807, Rosenmiller married Ann Grier Barnitz on November 26, 1844.  The couple had five children: Mary K., Charles Louis, Adolphus, Jane, and Mary Cope.

Early 19th century pharmacists were called chemists because they mixed the prescriptions they filled.  But ready-made cures were also available at the Rosenmiller drugstore, like Dr. Caywood's Preparation.  An advertisement on August 26, 1848, touted it as "A never-failing remedy for hard or soft Corns."  And in January 1853, Jones' Italian Chemical Soap and Coral Hair Restorative were offered here.  "One cures every skin disease, chapped or sore flesh, eruptions, scurvy, &c.; the other dresses the hair finely, stops it falling, makes it grow, &c.," said an advertisement.

By the time of the latter ad, John Hoey had moved his grocery slightly northward, to 195 Eighth Avenue.  Lewis Rosenmiller's drugstore had become an important fixture in the Chelsea community, and Rosenmiller was a trustee of the 16th Ward's public schools.

Around 1857, Rosenmiller took in a partner, Alexander Menzies.  The pharmacy's name was changed to Alexander, Menzies, and the new partner move into the upper floors with the Rosenmiller family for about a year.

The store and two others on Eighth Avenue were the victims of a con artist on March 25, 1857.  That day, Charles Macomber entered each of the drugstores and "asked for a bottle of Kellinger's liniment, and offered in payment at each place, a five dollar bank note on the Buffalo City Bank," explained the New-York Tribune.  He then left with his liniment and $4.50 in change.  The proprietors would later discover that the $5 notes were worthless.  The scam cost the druggists about $200 in today's money.

Rosenmiller's partnership with Menzies was short-lived.  By the early 1860s, the store was again being run solely by Rosenmiller.  It was, as well, a gathering place.  The New York Herald would later recall:

His office was the resort of the literati and medical practitioners of the locality, and it was the scene of many a learned discussion on medical science, politics and questions of the day.

Margaret Rebecca Rosenmiller was suffering from consumption in 1866, the mid-19th century term for tuberculosis.  Even her father's medical knowledge could not save the 20-year-old and she died on the evening of May 9.  Her funeral was held in the family's parlor the following evening.

At the time, the Rosenmillers' landlady was Janet S. Pound.  She sold the building to Andrew R. Leggat on February 23, 1871 and he continued to rent the property to Rosenmiller.

On his 68th birthday, February 14, 1875, Lewis Adolphus Rosenmiller suffered a fatal stroke.  In reporting his death, the New York Herald praised:

He was one of the original pioneers of the Sixteenth ward, when that locality was known as Chelsea village and all of Manhattan Island above Bleecker street was looked upon as being in the country.

Calling Rosenmiller "a man of irreproachable character," the article said, "on the west side no one was more widely known and respected."  

Eight months later, on October 26, 1875, a succinct advertisement appeared in the New York Herald:  "Drug store for sale--To close an estate.  172 Eighth avenue."

The drugstore was converted to Isaac Westervelt's butcher store.  Widow Ann Burns now operated the upper two floors as a boarding house.  Her residents in 1876 were James Cullan, who was in the furniture business; real estate agent James Gallagher; John McDade, a drover; and engineer John Sims.

Isaac Westervelt got into trouble with Sanitary Inspector Brennan.  On July 10, 1878 he was charged for the second time "in violation of the Sanitary Code."  He was charged with "housing a large number of chickens."

The butcher store soon changed hands.  Max Meyer ran it in 1879, followed by Leon Winkler by the early 1890s.  Winkler moved his business to New Jersey in 1894.  Four years later, his name was involved in a mysterious case.

On July 1, 1898, the New York Herald reported that young man had stumbled across a metal safety deposit box while "crossing the Hackensack meadows in North Bergen."  Police opened it and found "Italian and French bonds to the face value of $5,000.  There was also a bill of exchange for 100 gulden, payable to Leon Winkler, and a policy of insurance for $1,000, made out in the same name with the address, 172 Eighth avenue, New York."

Presumably, the safety deposit box had been stolen from Winkler, but no report had been filed.  Police went to 172 Eighth Avenue and found that Franz Amb was running his delicatessen in the shop.  The landlady, Mrs. Langtree, told them, according to the New York Herald, that "she remembered Mr. Winkler as a man who had kept a butcher shop there for about three years, but had moved away...She had never heard him speak of having been robbed."  Whether the mystery was ever solved is unclear.

On June 12, 1899, Andrew Leggat transferred title to the building to Jennie Z. Leggat.  Occupying the store at the time was Henry Beck's butcher shop.

Among the tenants of 172 Eighth Avenue in 1920 was Joseph B. Franklin Jr.  On the night of April 23 that year, just three months after Prohibition was enacted, he drove to Brooklyn and met two men who had whisky in their truck.  Unfortunately for all three, Patrolman Harry Cohen had the day off in recognition of his being awarded a medal for bravery.  Cohen celebrated by taking his wife to the theater.

The New-York Tribune reported that as Cohen was purchasing the tickets, "he saw a man take a case of whisky from the tail of a truck, put it into an auto runabout and start away."  The article said that Cohen, "forgetting all about his day off," sprang into action.  He overtook Franklin, then ordered him to follow the truck.  All three men were arrested and the truck, containing $7,000 worth of whisky, was confiscated.

After having been owned by her family for half a century, Eliza Leggat sold 172 Eighth Avenue in August 1921.  The following year, the Great Atlantic & Pacific Tea Co. opened a branch of its grocery store chain here.  It was replaced by 1940 by the Eigen Supply Co., a plumbing and heating supply store.

In the meantime, Edward Falzey, who lived here in 1934, had a shady background.  When a friend was charged with a crime that year, he accompanied him to the Tombs Courthouse on November 28 "to lend him moral support," as reported by The New York Sun.  His friendly deed landed him behind bars, however.

Other than the storefront, in 1940 the building's 1840s architectural elements survived.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Also in the courtroom was Sol Drapkin, the owner of a Ninth Avenue pawnshop.  The Sun reported, "He caught sight of Falzey sitting among the spectators and pointed him out to detectives as one of the men who held him up last March 26 and robbed him of $23,000 worth of jewelry."  Falzey was charged not only with the robbery, but with violating the Sullivan law (an early gun control statute), and felonious assault.

Living here in 1979 was William Alicia, who worked as a taxi driver.  On May 11 that year, the 37-year-old picked up an inebriated customer who refused to pay the $13 fare.  Alicia took him to the 17th Precinct station.  At around 7:45 p.m., while they were talking to Sgt. Harry Fagan at the front desk, a frustrated Alicia "hit the passenger with his hand once in the back of the neck," as reported by The New York Times.  The man fell to the floor unconscious.  He was taken to Bellevue Hospital where he died a short while later.  William Alicia was taken into custody, charged with manslaughter.

A laundromat occupied the store in the newly-remodeled building in 1980.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services. 

A renovation completed in 1973 removed the 1840s Greek Revival entryway and lowered the replacement to grade.  Brick lintels replaced the brownstone, and a faux corbel table of brick substituted the wooden cornice.



Easily ignored today, the diminutive structure belies its rich history of more than 180 years.

photographs by the author

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