Showing posts with label cleverdon and putzel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cleverdon and putzel. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 18, 2026

The 1899 Henry Schwarzwalder House - 24 West 76th Street

 


Real estate developer James Carlew erected five sumptuous, 25-foot-wide townhouses on West 76th Street between Central Park West and Columbus Avenue in 1898-99.  Designed by Cleverdon & Putzel, each of the residences cost Carlew $40,000 each to construct, or about $1.6 million in 2026 terms.  

Faced in limestone, 24 West 76th Street was, like the others, four stories tall above an English basement.  Cleverdon & Putzel splashed its Renaissance Revival design with Beaux Arts details, like frothy cartouches above the parlor floors.  A dog-legged box stoop rose to a columned portico.  The bowed second floor oriel was fronted by a stone balcony and crowned by a tiara of balustrades.  The fully arched windows of the third floor sat within square-headed architraves, and the piers that flanked the fourth floor openings were intricately carved with Renaissance inspired decorations.

James Carlew sold the house to Henry Schwarzwalder and his wife, the former Louisa Finck.  Louisa was Henry's second wife.  He married Alice Finck (Louisa's sister) in 1877.  She died shortly after the birth of their daughter, Amelia, and Henry then married Louisa.  They had a daughter, also named Louisa.

Born on May 26, 1853, Henry took over the operation of J. Schwarzwalder & Sons following his father's death.  (His business partner, August Finck, was the brother of his wives.)  By the time he purchased 24 West 76th Street, the firm was the largest maker of beer kegs in the United States.  It operated two factories--in Hoboken, New Jersey and Louisville, Kentucky.  Schwarzwalder personally held several patents for improved kegs and heavily invested in Manhattan real estate, much of it on the Upper West Side.

Louisa died at the age of 48 on October 18, 1909.  Oddly enough, neither daughter was mentioned in her obituary.  Louisa's funeral was held in the drawing room on the 20th.

In January 1914, Henry Schwarzwalder began construction of a country home at Shippan Point near Stamford, Connecticut.  The two-story mansion cost the equivalent of $1.6 million today to construct.  It is possible that Schwarzwalder never enjoyed his new summer home.  He died in the West 76th Street mansion on May 10, 1915 at the age of 62.

Henry's eldest daughter, Alice, who was married to Conrad Stein by then, inherited the townhouse and the Connecticut property.  The couple occupied 24 West 76th Street for two years.  Then, on December 15, 1917, The New York Sun reported that Conrad purchased "the tall apartment house at 311 to 317 West Eighty-ninth street."  As part payment, said the article, he gave the George Backer Construction Company the Shippan Point estate and "his dwelling at 24 West Seventy-sixth street...one of the fine dwellings remaining on the West Side."

In marketing 24 West 76th Street, the new owners described the former Schwarzwalder house as "a residence superb."  The George Backer Construction Company initially used it as an investment property.  In March 1918, for instance, Paul Schwartz leased the house.

Then, in April 1919, the firm sold it "to a buyer for occupancy," according to The Record & Guide.  The purchasers were Reid Langdon Carr and his wife, the former Eleonora Fredericksen.  The couple had been married three years earlier.

Born on October 20, 1880 in Cornwall, Vermont, Carr graduated from Middlebury College in 1901 and earned his law degree from New York Law School in 1903.  He taught law in his alma mater until 1916 before entering the firm of Morgan & Seabury.  Apparently indefatigable, he was president and a director of the Columbian Carbon Company, and a director of the Irving Trust Company, the Frederick H. Levey Company, the Appleton Century Company, the Interstate Natural Gas Company and the Mississippi River Fuel Company.  

The Carrs' country estate was at Huntington, Long Island.  They owned 24 West 76th Street until 1926 when they purchased 925 Fifth Avenue.  Reid Langdon Carr would die in that mansion on October 7, 1948.

The new owners were Alexander Hayes Kridel and his wife, the former Irma L. Hernsheim.  The couple were married on January 11, 1906 and had two children, Elinor and James Alexander. 

Kridel was born in 1877 and studied at the College of the City of New York and abroad.  He was a partner in J. Kridel, Sons & Co., commission merchants, founded by his father in the 1870s.  The Kridels maintained two country homes, one in Scarsdale, New York and another in Deal, New Jersey.

Elinor Kridel graduated from Vassar College in 1928.  Shortly afterward, her parents announced her engagement to Leonard Henry Bernheim.  

By the mid-1930s, the Isaac H. Levy family occupied 24 West 76th Street.  But the end of the line for the mansion as a private home was near.

via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

The early World War II years saw 24 West 76th Street operated as rented rooms.  Evelyn Clayton Lewis rather scandalously shared a room here with Frederick "Fritz" Joubert Duquesne in 1941.  (Frederick was known to other residents by the surname Dunn.)  Evelyn, who was 24 years old, was an "artist, sculptress and playwright," according to The New York Sun.  

Frederick, who was 64, listed his occupation as "writer and lecturer."  Born in Cape Colony, South Africa, Duquesne was a naturalized citizen.  But, according to J. Edgar Hoover, he had "served as a spy in the Boer War and in addition was active in behalf of the German interests" in World War I.  During the latter conflict, Duquesne was arrested for insurance fraud and murder in the connection of the sinking of the British ship Tennyson.  While confined in a cell at Bellevue Hospital in 1918, he escaped.  Several years later, the charges were dropped.

As it turned out, Evelyn and Frederick's living arrangements had nothing to do with romance.  On June 28, 1941, FBI agents stormed into their rooms here and arrested the pair for espionage.  Two days later, The New York Times reported that their arrest--along with 25 other men and two women--had broken a German spy ring.  The article said, "The most important of the prisoners was described by Mr. Hoover as Frederick Joubert Duquesne."  

Frederick Joubert Duquesne's FBI mug shot.  

Frederick Duquesne would serve 12 years in prison and Evelyn was sentenced to 18 months in Atlanta "for acting as a foreign agent."

Other residents of 24 West 76th Street were, expectedly, less notorious.  Living here as early as 1947 was Chester Phillips, a World War II veteran and former Boy Scout.  On February 3, 1948, The New York Times reported that he and six other veterans and former Boy Scouts had established a 13-1/2 acre Boy Scout camp upstate and provided a fund "to send needy youths" to the camp.

Retired customs attorney Hartford Beaumont and his wife, Alice, lived here by the late 1950s.  Around 1911, he began working on The American Tariff System, a compilation and index of legal cases.  After working on the manuscript for half a century, on Beaumont's 90th birthday, August 18, 1961, he and his wife presented his 2,000-page volume to the United States Custom Service.  Five months later, on January 23, 1962, The New York Times reported on Beaumont's death here.

British-born writer Nik Cohn lived here in the early 1980s.  A magazine article he wrote in 1976 inspired the movie Saturday Night Fever.  He earned less positive press on May 19, 1983 when a raid on his apartment resulted in his arrest along with 18 others for operating a "drug ring that operated out of Mr. Cohn's Manhattan town house," according to The New York Times.


Although never officially converted to apartments, there are ten rental units in the building today.  From the sidewalk, the former mansion looks much as it did in 1899 when the Schwarzwalder family moved in.

photographs by the author

Friday, April 18, 2025

The Charles Halbe House - 529 Manhattan Avenue

 

Brothers Joseph Warren and Abraham Alonzo Teets were responsible for erecting scores of rowhouses in Upper Manhattan in the 1880s.  In 1887 they filled the western blockfront of Manhattan Avenue from 121st to 122nd Street with three-story-and-basement homes, and the following year completed a similar row along the block from 122nd to 123rd Streets.

Architects Cleverdon & Putzel lightened the neo-Grec design of the latter row by adding fanciful terra cotta hoods, molded to simulate fish scale tiles, to the parlor and second floor openings.  The architrave frames of the windows were decorated with incised carvings, and the elaborate metal cornices included pressed fans between the prominent brackets.

The row engulfs the entire blockfront.

The house at the southern corner of the row, 529 Manhattan Avenue, was highly desirable because of the southern wall of additional light and ventilation.  It became home to the Frederick Charles Halbe family.  Halbe was born in Germany on March 30, 1830 and came to America at the age of 17.  While he was in the upholstery business, he dealt in Manhattan real estate as well.  He owned, for instance, the valuable property on Sixth Avenue on which the Adams Dry Goods emporium was built.  He often used only his middle name professionally.

Halbe and his wife, the former Sophia Hiedelhouse, had at least three children, Bertha, William A., and Charles G. H.  William was listed as a clerk in 1889, and Charles G. H. Halbe as a merchant at 30 Front Street.  The affluent family was annually listed in Dau's New York Social Blue Book.

Bertha H. Halbe died on November 15, 1901.  Her funeral was held in the parlor on the 17th. 

A second funeral was held there ten years later.  Frederick Charles Halbe died on June 3, 1911 at the age of 81.  He left an estate of about $8.67 million by 2025 conversions.

William still lived with his mother at the time of Frederick's death.  Sophia survived her husband by a decade, dying in the Manhattan Avenue house on February 26, 1921.  Hers was the last of the Halbe funerals to be held here.

Five months later, Joseph Goodfellow, a contractor, purchased 529 Manhattan Avenue for $16,000, according to The New York Times (the price would translate to about $272,000 today).

It continued to be a single-family home until 1958, when a renovation resulted in one apartment each in the basement and parlor levels, and two each on the upper floors.

Among the tenants by the early 1970s were Clifford A. Scott and his wife, the former Mary Myles.  Born on January 15, 1918 in Monroe, Louisiana, Scott was a 1942 graduate of Southern University and received his Bachelor's and Ph.D. degrees from Brooklyn Law School.  While living here in 1974, Scott was elected a Justice of the New York State Supreme Court.  The January 14, 1991 issue of New York Magazine listed him as one of the five toughest judges in New York State.


A renovation/restoration completed in 2019 returned the former Halbe house to a single-family home.

photographs by the author

Friday, October 25, 2024

The Benjamin G. Disbrow House - 123 West 130th Street

 


In January 1885, the architectural firm of Cleverdon & Putzel filed plans for four neo-Grec style houses at 117-123 West 130th Street for developer Samuel O. Wright.  The Record & Guide mentioned that three of the "brown stone houses" would be 19-feet wide, while one would be a foot narrower.  

No. 123 West 130th Street, like its identical siblings, featured impressive architrave window frames with prominent sills and cornices.  The double-doored entrance sat within an engaged portico with Tuscan columns that upheld an imposing entablature decorated with carved designs.  

Benjamin G. and Sarah M. Disbrow purchased 123 West 130th Street on May 1, 1890.  The couple had four adult sons, Griffin B., George A., Dr. Robert N., and Charles A.  Benjamin would not enjoy his home for long, dying on March 19, 1892.

Disbrow's death created a contentious rift in the family.  On October 16, 1892, The New York Sun headlined an article, "Mr. Disbrow Left Two Wills."  One will was executed on February 7, 1891 and the other on January 18, 1892.  The first left Sarah "the income of certain property for life," and gave Griffin "$1,500 and some furniture in the family residence."  He and George (who received the upright piano) were given the bulk of the estate.  Their brothers, Charles and Robert, each received $4,500 (about $155,000 in 2024).  The will explained, "I have not given more of my property to my two sons, Charles and Robert, on account of their undutiful conduct to my wife and to me."

A month before their father's death, Charles and Robert had apparently made amends and he had written the second will.  Now Griffin and George faced off in court against their brothers and their wives.  They contested the second will, alleging "undue influence" of their brothers "while Mr. Disbrow was in feeble health and of unsound mind."  Robert and Charles simultaneously contested the first will.

Within a month, things got more complicated (and heated).  On November 16, The Evening World reported that two more wills had been discovered.  "The Disbrow family was apparently full of discord, and Benjamin made four wills during the last year of his life," said the article, which predicted, "a fight over the disposition of his property...bids fair to continue many months."

The property that was to provide Sarah income for life was a rental building at 108th Street and Lexington Avenue.  And that, too, resulted in family drama.  Griffin managed the property for his mother.  Five years after her husband's death, Sarah sued to have Griffin removed as trustee.  Her lawyer said he "employed himself as agent to collect the rents and has paid himself for such services."  In addition, Griffin told his mother that repairs to the building "ate up all the profits," according to The World on November 14, 1897.  

Griffin and Sarah would face off once again three years later.  On November 8, 1900, The New York Times reported, "A somewhat remarkable controversy between a mother and her son recently received final decision in the Court of Appeals."   On April 27, 1892, a month after Benjamin Disbrow's death, Sarah transferred title to 123 West 130th Street to Griffin "in consideration of love and affection and the sum of one dollar."  Then, in 1897 she sued to reverse the transfer.  The judge at the time ruled, "Mrs. Disbrow was unquestionably misled as to the nature and effect of the instrument."

Griffin appealed.  On November 7, 1900, the court ruled that although, "she was an inexperienced woman, and she leaned upon her son Griffin," there was no evidence that he had exerted undue influence.  The judges, reported The New York Times, "were constrained" to return ownership of the house to Griffin.

Sarah M. Disbrow moved to the Brooklyn home of her son, Robert.  She died there on May 23, 1912 at the age of 82.

Former Tammany Hall leader and Supreme Court Justice Peter Aloysius Hendrick and his wife, the former Julia Sherwood, lived at 123 West 130th Street at least through 1907.  Born in Penn Yan, New York in 1858, Hendrick came to New York in 1887 and "for a time [was] personal counsel to Charles F. Murphy," the Tammany boss.  He was appointed to State Supreme Court in 1906 earning the equivalent of $612,000 per year in today's money.

The Hendricks were followed in the house by William J. Farrell.  He was president of the William J. Farrell Company, described by The New York Times as "one of the largest dealers in dressed poultry, butter, and eggs in the city."  

Farrell, who was unmarried, was at Fort Covington, New York on June 18, 1919, when he suffered a "stroke of apoplexy," according to The New York Times.  (The term referred to what today is known as a stroke.)  The article said, "Specialists from New York were rushed to his bedside, but they could do nothing for him."

The house was inherited by Annie M. Farrell and Mary Ellen Higgins, presumably his sisters.  They sold it in April 1921 to Samuel and Florette Graham.  Samuel died nine months later, on January 20, 1922.

In 1941, the stoop railings and newels survived.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In 1941 the house was converted to unofficial apartments.  Among the initial residents were Alice and Samuel Simmons.  Samuel left to fight in World War II, and on February 23, 1946, The New York Age reported that Alice, "has been informed that her husband, Samuel has been promoted to the grade of corporal.  He is serving as a dispatcher with the 810th Engineer Aviation Battalion near Manila."

By the turn of the 21st century, the once-proud house was operated as a single-room-occupancy building.  Then, a renovation completed in 2004 resulted in a three-family residence.

photograph by the author
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Saturday, September 28, 2024

The 1883 James Clark Abrams House - 146 West 130th Street



Real estate developer Samuel O. Wright completed three brownstone fronted houses at 146-150 West 130th Street in 1883.  The identical homes were three stories tall above English basements and 18-feet wide.  Designed by Cleverdon & Putzel, their ambitious neo-Grec design included architrave window surrounds, the lower portions of which were incised to suggest fluting, and bold bracketed cornices.  The stoop and areaway were guarded by beefy cast iron railings and newels crowned with commanding finials.  The engaged Tuscan columns that flanked the double-doored entrance upheld a forceful entablature and molded cornice.  Here the architects dipped into the Queen Anne style with a row of playful sunburst designs.


In July 1882, while construction was ongoing, James Bogert purchased 146 West 130th Street for $14,500 (about $446,000 in 2024 terms).  He advertised it for sale on January 16, 1890 for $16,500.  It was purchased by Robert O'Neill Ford and his wife, the former Sophie Eliza Darling.

Ford was born in Pennsylvania in 1840.  He joined the U. S. Marine Corps at the onset of the Civil War and on April 1, 1862 was appointed a second lieutenant.  President Abraham Lincoln and Gideon Wells, the Secretary of the Navy, signed his commission.

Robert O'Neill Ford gave this photograph of himself in uniform to Sophie while they were still courting.  On the back is inscribed "R.O.N.F. for S.E."  from the collection of The Henry Ford.

Sophie Eliza Darling was born in New York City in 1843, the daughter of William Augustus and Eliza M. Lee Darling.  Her wealthy father was the president of a railroad and the Appraiser of the Port, a highly sought-after and well-paying commission.  Only months after the end of the war, on November 8, 1865, she and Robert were married.  They had three children, O'Neil Ford, born in 1867; Clarence Darling, who arrived the following year; and Robert Edwin, who was born in 1874.

On March 4, 1893, three years after moving into the 130th Street house, Sophie died at the age of 50.  The New-York Tribune announced, "Funeral services will be held at her late residence, 146 West 130th-st., on Tuesday, March 7th, at 4 p.m."

The house was sold one year later almost to the day, on March 6, 1894, for the equivalent of $676,000 today.  It became home to another Civil War veteran, Major James Clark Abrams, and his wife, the former Sarah Caroline Russell.  James and Sarah were married on October 4, 1871 and had four children, Robert Russell, Harold B., Marion, and James Clark.  

Born in Hudson, New York in 1841, Abrams enlisted in the Seventh Regiment on October 8, 1860.  It was the preferred regiment for the sons of millionaires, earning it the nickname "The Silk Stocking Regiment."  He served throughout the Civil War.  The New York Times later recalled, "He often spoke of the Baltimore riots, in which the first blood of the war of the rebellion was shed, and also saw service during the draft riots and during the Orange troubles."  (The "Orange troubles" referred to the Orange Riots in Manhattan in 1870 and 1871, a bloody conflict between Protestant and Catholic Irish immigrants.)  

Abrams remained active in the Seventh Regiment and on May 22, 1893 he was promoted to major.  Around the same time, he was invited to the White House where President Grover Cleveland awarded him a diamond cross.  In stark contrast to his military presence, in civilian life Abrams was a dentist.  

In 1900, laborers upstate agitated for higher pay and better work conditions.  Their protests turned to riots and they threatened to blow up the the Croton Dam.  The Seventh Regiment was deployed there in April.  Abrams, now 60 years old, caught what The New York Times described as "a severe cold."  He never recovered and nearly a year later, on March 10, 1901, he died.  The Baltimore Sun called him, "one of the best known officers of the National Guard of the State," The New York Times adding that "for the past forty years [he] had been a prominent figure in National Guard circles."

Following Abrams's death, Sarah's brother Robert Russell, moved into the house.

On March 10, 1906, Sarah announced the engagement of Marion to Harold Thorndale Birnie.  The wedding was held in the drawing room on March 27.  The New York Herald reported, "Following the ceremony, which will be witnessed by relatives and intimate friends, there will be a reception."

There would be two more Abrams funerals in the house.  Robert Russell died on January 9, 1909, and Sarah Caroline Abrams died on July 12, 1916.

The Abrams children leased 146 West 130th Street to Cornelia M. Andrews.  She was the widow of John R. Andrews, a member of the jewelry firm Tiffany & Co.  In the fall of 1918, Cornelia visited her cousin, Mrs. Wilfred J. Funk, in Montclair, New Jersey, were she died on November 10.

When the estate of Sarah Caroline Abrams sold 146 West 130th Street in February 1922, the demographics of the neighborhood had greatly changed.  Harlem, whose only black presence had been domestic staff at the turn of the century, was now the epicenter of Manhattan's black community.  The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide mentioned that the new owner of the Abrams house had purchased it "for investment."

Like most of the homes along the block, 146 West 130th Street was operated as unofficial apartments.  It played an important part in black culture when, according to the 1991 Literary New York, A History and Guide,  LeRoi Jones founded the Black Arts Repertory Theatre School in the house around 1965.

A major figure in black culture, LeRoi Jones was a poet, dramatist, and author.  He changed his name to Amiri Baraka in 1965 following the assassination of Malcolm X.  Known as BARTS, the Black Arts Repertory Theatre School was the first of its kind.  According to historian Rachel Horowitz, "The FBI were present at initial meetings and classroom discussions, including educational lectures on African-American history."  Although the school remained opened here for only about a year, it prompted the establishment of similar institutions throughout the country.


A renovation completed in 2006 resulted in a duplex apartment in the basement and parlor floor, and one apartment each on the upper floors.

photographs by the author
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Friday, May 14, 2021

From Shirtwaists to Genomics - 14-16 Waverly Place

 

photo by Beyond My Ken

On February 11, 1892 Isabel Lathrop sold the old three-story house at 14 Waverly Place to Frank A. Seitz.   The president of the Frank A. Seitz Realty & Construction Co., he was on a mission.  The following month he spent $21,667 (about $628,000 today) for the similar house next door at 16 Waverly Place.

Prior to the Civil War years the area had been one of the most exclusive residential neighborhoods in Manhattan.  But now its once-elegant homes were being rapidly replaced with loft buildings.  Seitz demolished the two structures and hired the architectural firm of Cleverdon & Putzel to design two identical structures.  Each would be 25-feet wide, six-stories tall, and cost the equivalent of $2 million today to construct.

Completed early in 1893, the architects had created two imposing tripartite structures in a modern take on the Romanesque Revival style.  The piers of the cast iron storefronts upheld faux balustraded balconies that fronted an arcade of deeply-recessed windows.  The engaged brick columns that separated them wore carved medieval-style capitals which were echoed in the massive capitals of the three piers that flanked the stores.

The mid-sections were faced in beige brick encrusted with stylized chain bands of terra cotta.  Energetic brick-and-terra cotta voussoirs capped each opening like sunbursts.  The sixth floors sat above a common cornice, each window separated by engaged columns.



Seitz seems to have hoped to quickly liquidate his investment.  On March 16, 1893 the Record & Guide reported he had sold the structures $250,000--a satisfying $7.3 million in today's money.   If so, the deal fell through and it was not until 1898 that Seitz sold the buildings to William Lauterbach.  

Lauterbach moved his clothing firm, Andur & Goodman Co., into one of the buildings.  Other millinery and apparel firms leased space, as well.  Among them in 1897 were clothiers S. Beller & Co., L. Herschfield & Brother and Max Hurvick, and "hats and caps" manufacturers Philip W. Crawford, E. E. Francis & Co., J. Rowland & Co., the Pioneer Hat Works, and T. C. Millard & Co.

At the time, both industries were experiencing pushback from employees, prompted by the new labor organizations.  Apparel workers labored in oppressive conditions, normally working six days per week for low wages.  On September 2, 1897 The Standard Union reported, "Over 2,600 cloak makers quit work in shops working for six manufacturers of cloaks in New York City, yesterday evening and this morning."  Among those was the entire staff of S. Beller & Co. 

In a related matter, the article noted that women garment workers were "agitating" for a separate union.  "They are mostly, it is said, of Hebrew, Italian and Irish origin.  A mass meeting of the women for organization purposes is to be held later on."

At the turn of the century the "waist," or "shirtwaist," was the most popular women's garment in America.   The tailored blouse was originally modeled on men's shirts.

Despite the tortuous corsets required to maintain the hourglass figure, the shirtwaist was touted as "liberating."  original source unknown
 
The Danzig Waist Co. operated from 14 Waverly Place in 1901 and, as is the case with fashion companies today, used live models when working on designs and patterns.  On July 23, 1901 the firm advertised in the New York Herald for a "Stylish 36 figure for shirt waists."

Until the last quarter of the 20th century employees were paid in cash.  It was a practice that routinely made clerks carrying the payroll from the bank a target of robbers.  But it was not street thugs who were the threat on September 17, 1906, but an insider.

The Success Publishing Company was one tenant here not involved in millinery or clothing.  On that afternoon Kenneth McKenzie left the office with a $1,900 payroll check  to cash at the bank.   The amount would be nearly $56,000 today.  The Standard Union reported, "As McKenzie did not return the police were notified."

Detectives learned that the 24-year-old was seen at Coney Island that same night during the Mardi Gras festivities.  (The annual event had nothing to do with the Lenten celebrations held in New Orleans every spring.)  The Standard Union reported that the detectives "went to the big health resort last evening armed with a bench warrant in the hope of arresting him."  Unable to find him among the throng, undercover officers then "shadowed McKenzie's home."  Finally, just after midnight on September 20, he was seen sneaking out of the basement door.

McKenzie was arrested, but the money was gone.  The article in The Standard Union was entitled "Think Man Spent Firm's Money At Mardi Gras."

In 1918 William Lauterbach joined the two buildings internally.  His company was still operating here and in June the following year it was looking for a "boy as learner in shipping room."  The pay was $150 per week in today's money, and the company wanted to ensure that the applicants were both literate and neat.  The ad insisted that applications be addressed "in own handwriting."

Following William Lauterbach's death, his widow, Mattie, sold the buildings in 1945 to the Eastern Control Corporation.  While a few apparel-related tenants, like Service Wear, Inc., were still in the buildings, the garment center had moved north of 34th Street.  More typical of the firms in the buildings now was the Howard Adams Brush Co.

A horrifying incident occurred on January 8, 1952 while a team of five workmen were installing a 5,000-gallon oil tank in the sub-basement.  While four of the men were working on the tank, welder John Nagy was using an acetylene torch on the iron grating at street level to create an opening for a vent pipe.  Sparks fell to the basement, igniting cardboard cartons.  By the time the workers noticed the fire it was out of control.

One of them rushed to the street to tell Nagy to stop work while the others tried to fight the blaze.  The flames and thick smoke eventually forced them out, but two had been overcome by smoke.  It was not until the three men reached the sidewalk that they realized that Seymour Washowski and Raleigh Jordan, both 25-years-old, were missing.

The New York Times reported, "The rescuers went down and were able to penetrate only a short distance before the intense smoke and flames drove them back.  It was not until two hours later that the bodies were found in the sub-basement."

The second half of the 20th century saw major change come to the Noho neighborhood.  In 1961 the Young Concert Artists Recital Hall was in the building and in 1967 the Playwright's Workshop Club operated here.  It staged off-Broadway productions like Clyde Ellsworth's 1967 The Sleeping Beauty or Can A Call Girl Find True Love and Happiness.

The upper floors were converted to nine sprawling residential lofts.  Moving in in 1964, for instance, were artist Dan Christensen, his wife, and their two sons.  Their 4,o00-square-foot space accommodated Christensen's studio and the family's residence.  (His paintings are in the permanent collections of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Museum of Modern Art and the Guggenheim Museum.)

At the time Harouts Greek restaurant was a favorite gathering spot for New York University students.  The restaurant closed in 1969 and was unofficially taken over by a campus group, Transendental Students, described by The New York Times on September 22 that year as "a party-throwing organization of hedonists."  They held parties called "freak-outs" in empty classrooms and study halls, and in the now-vacant restaurant.

The New York Times said "The freak-outs were billed as attempted to 'make N.Y.U. livable'" and "usually featured wine, marijuana, movies, political satire, and acid-rock music."  Uninvited attendees were often the New York City Police Department who were called to end the festivities.  The article noted, "Even the N.Y.U. administration has acknowledge the group's influence.  This term the administration allocated $5,000 for the group to renovate Harouts."

After living in their third-floor loft for three decades, the Christensens and the other tenants were told to leave by New York University in June 1998.  A spokesperson for the school explained "various university departments need space for their programs."  Although the tenants, described by The New York Times as "four painters, a sculptor, a filmmaker, a food designer, a martial-arts teacher and a furniture marker" hired a lawyer, they were unsuccessful.


A subsequent renovation, completed in 2010, resulted in the building's being home to New York University's Center for Genomics and Systems Biology.

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Friday, March 26, 2021

The 1831 Benjamin Lee House - 33 Bond Street

 


In 1831, shortly after builder Timothy Woodruff completed construction on the 25-foot wide brick house at No. 33 Bond Street,  it was purchased by Benjamin F. Lee and his wife, the former Jane Lawrence.  Sitting in one of the most exclusive residential districts of the city, their new Federal style home was three-and-a-half stories tall.  A short stoop led to the parlor floor and one or two dormers originally poked through the peaked roof.

Lee was described by Valentine's Manual of the City of New York as "one of New York's famous old merchants."  He had been a pioneer in the development of vulcanized rubber "under the Goodyear patents," according to Valentine's Manual, "and made a fortune in that business."  Lee had recently been a partner with Thomas Lord in the firm of Lord & Lees, but was now engaged with Paul Babcock in Lee & Babcock.  (The location of Lee's new house may have been a bit awkward, since Thomas Lord lived directly across the street at No. 32 Bond Street.)

Jane Lawrence Lee was known as "a celebrated beauty," according to the manual.  Her portrait by Charles Cromwell Ingham, entitled The White Plume, became famous within her lifetime.

Charles Cromwell Ingham was a founder of the National Academy of Design.  His portrait of Jane Lee created a sensation.  from The Moss Rose, 1854 (copyright expired)

The Lees did not remain on Bond Street for especially long.  It was advertised for sale in The Evening Post on January 16, 1834.  It was purchased by attorney Jonathan J. Coddington, who resold it in 1836 to Amelia Staples.

Amelia was the widow of John Staples.  Living with her in the Bond Street house were her son, William J. Staples, and his wife Hanna.  William was a well-to-do attorney and developer.  When the family moved into No. 33 he was actively involved in developing a section of Staten Island in partnership with politician Minthorne Tompkins.

In 1832 they had acquired a large parcel of land from the Vanderbilt family--part of the family farm where Cornelius Vanderbilt I was born.  They laid out streets for a new village named Stapleton.  Four years later they began marketing the new community and initiated a ferry service from Manhattan. 

In 1847 William was appointed Consul to Le Havre, France.  With her son and daughter-in-law gone, Amelia took in a boarder that year, broker William M. Clarke whose office was at No. 62 Wall Street.   She died in 1852 and the following year William Staples listed "the first-class dwelling."  His ad offered "with furniture, if desired."  

Amelia's mother's personal wealth was reflected in the other properties being sold to settle the estate.  Included was a house on Cherry Street, and three lots on Ninth Avenue and 16th Street.  William Staples apparently changed his mind about selling No. 33 Bond Street and in 1854 the title was transferred to Hannah.

Catharine Taylor purchased No. 33 in May 1885 for $16,000--about $435,000 in today's money.  She was the wife of Washington H. Taylor who operated a hotel on Park Row.  Catharine purchased the property as an investment, and in September 1888 transferred the title to her sister, Margaret Barnes.  The problem was that Washington Taylor was not aware of the transactions nor that the women were using his money.

In February 1889 he discovered that his wife, who had access to his safe, had absconded with more than $1.15 million by today's standards.  He left her and then filed suit against the two women to "recover property which he claims his wife purchased with money misappropriated from his safe."  Included, of course, was No. 33 Bond Street.

Catharine Taylor's purchase of the house as an investment was a wise move.  At the time the Bond Street neighborhood had changed from residential to commercial and small businesses filled the once-elegant homes which had not yet been demolished and replaced.  By 1896 Joseph Lowenstein's feather business operated from the building.  That year he employed six men, six women and two teen-aged girls who worked 55 hours each week.

Lowenstein's premises were protected by an early example of an electric burglar alarm which proved its worth on August 11, 1897.   The Sun reported "A burglar alarm saved the feather factory of Joseph Lowenthal [sic] early yesterday morning, not from looting by robbers, but from destruction by fire."  A fire had started in the room where dyed feathers were laid out to dry at around 1:00 in the morning.  It spread up the woodwork to the office on the floor above.  

"The flames snapped the tiny wire of the alarm and the bell rang furiously in the offices of the burglar alarm company," said The Sun.  Private detectives rushed to the scene to surprise the burglars.  "Instead they found the fire, and by giving the alarm had the firemen there soon."  Lowenstein's losses were about $64,000 in today's money.  But his burglar alarm had prevented the possible complete destruction of his business.

The anachronistic Lee house was surrounded by modern loft buildings at the time.  In 1901 real estate agent J. Jamison Raphael appeared in court regarding a property dispute in the neighborhood and was asked to assess other buildings.  In testifying he said in part, "I know the premises 33 Bond Street.  The building upon that property is of no particular value."

It was owned by Bernard H. Smith in 1908, who leased it to David Birnbaum for his fur factory.  Smith owned several buildings along the block and was apparently more interested in the rental income than the working conditions.  A factory inspector that year slapped Smith with three violations for Nos. 33, 27 and 23 Bond Street for the unsanitary conditions of the restrooms.

In November 1908 Harry Gorrfine and an accomplice were foiled in their attempt to rob Birnbaum's fur factory.  They were both sentenced to a year in prison, but Gorrfine quickly escaped.  Astoundingly, two weeks after his first attempt, a detective spotted him slipping back into No. 33 Bond Street on the afternoon of Saturday November 28.  What Detective Wilbur did not realize that Gorrfine had two cohorts already inside the building.

Wilbur rushed to a telephone and called headquarters for help.  As he ran back to No. 33 Gorrfine was just coming out with a large bundle.  Wilbur "nabbed him and took him back into the hallway," according to The Sun.  When two other officers arrived, they took their captive back upstairs.  "The minute they opened the door the other two thieves made a rush to get by, but were collared."  Police reported that inside Birnbaum's factory were bundles of furs worth $10,000 that the thieves had prepared to be remove--more than a quarter of a million in today's dollars. 

In April 1911 the architectural firm of Cleverdon & Putzel was hired to renovated the old house to an efficient loft building.  They raised the attic to a full fourth floor and added a pressed metal cornice that harkened to the Italianate style of a decade earlier.

In 1941 B. Rosen's remnant store occupied the parlor level.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Throughout most of the century the building would house small businesses like the Forlin Hat Company, here in the 1920's.  Then in 1996 a renovation resulted in an art studio in the basement and first floor, home to 33 Bond Street Architecture Design, and living-working quarters on above.


The commercial space became home to Vitsoe in September 2009.  The gallery-type store offered shelving systems and chairs designed by Dieter Rams.  Vitsoe remained until around 2017.  Today the basement level is home to Dashwood Books, which arrived approximately in 2010, and the physical therapy studio Body Evolved occupies the first floor that was once filled with the elegant furnishings and paintings of Benjamin and Jane Lee.

photographs by the author

Thursday, March 4, 2021

The 1892 Banner Building - 648 Broadway

 


Peter Banner was a clothing merchant in San Francisco before relocating to New York City around 1885.  He started out in the same business here before going into the "hides and wool" business as a commission merchant.  As his fortune grew, he branched out into real estate, forming the Vailima Realty Company.

When Banner first arrived in the city the St. Charles Hotel had stood at No. 648 Broadway, just north of Bond Street, for years.  It was owned by the Jones family, whose former mansion at No. 2 Bond Street, just around the corner, was erected in 1829 when the neighborhood was filling with the opulent homes of the city's wealthy.

But this stretch of Broadway had become commercial by now.  On October 11, 1890 the Real Estate Record & Guide reported that the "Honorable S. Jones" had sold "the seven-story brick hotel" for $200,000--or about $5.8 million in today's money.  

Banner hired the architectural firm of Cleverdon & Putzel to design a modern replacement structure on the site.  Demolition of the old hotel began on February 16, 1891.  The Record & Guide reported the site would be "improved" by an "eight-story brick and iron store and loft building" to cost $185,000.  (That increased Banner's overall outlay to $11.2 million today.)

The 30-foot wide structure was to be fully fireproof, with stone and iron staircases.  It would have all the latest technology, as well.  "Two elevators, one each for passengers and freight, steam heat, pneumatic bells, electric light and every modern convenience, have been considered and provided for to make this building complete in all respects," said the Guide.

Banner named his new building, completed in 1892, after himself--The Banner Building.  The architects had produced a striking cast iron and brick structure designed in a commercial take on the Renaissance Revival style.  The stately entrance to the upper floors, to the side of the storefront, was recessed behind fluted engaged columns and was accentuated by a large and elegant leaded fan light.  The segmental arched transoms above the grouped windows of the second floor distinguished them from less remarkable openings above.  Each of the sections was defined by an intermediate, cast iron cornice.

Peter Banner moved his offices into the new building, which filled with apparel manufacturers.  Among the early tenants were Charles M. Levy & Co., makers of boys' clothing; Schiff & Co., importers of millinery; the "overcoatings and suitings" merchant Harris Samilson; Gross & Wise, which dealt in "dress and tailors' silk and sleeve linings;" children's apparel makers Japhe Bros.; and Lipman & Hackes, clothiers.

Lipman & Hackes was operated by M. B. Lipman and Henry Hackes.  The latter's financial success was reflected in his comfortable home on East 64th Street, not far from Central Park.  He became ill in 1896 and his conditioned worsened to the point in August that he could no longer to go work.  Yet after three months of being confined at home, Hackes told his wife, Nellie, he was going to the "shop" on November 26.  

Instead, he walked to the summer house in Central Park near 79th Street.   As he entered, he spoke passingly to the custodian, Patrick Burns, about the weather.  Burns had no sooner walked out than he heard a gunshot.  The Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported "Burns pushed open the door and saw what had occurred and called in [a] policeman."

Hackes had pulled out his small handgun--the type gentlemen often carried for personal protection--and shot himself in the temple.  The article said "The revolver used by the suicide was a 32 caliber vest pocket affair, the barrel of which was only half an inch long."  When Officer William Sweeney got to the scene, Hackes was still alive and he was taken to Presbyterian Hospital.  But before his wife could get there, he died.  In his pocket were a letter addressed to his partner, and a check made out to his wife.

His building was successful enough that in 1898 Peter Banner hired architect Robert T. Lyons to add two more stories.  While he laudably attempted to carry on Cleverdon & Putzel's original design, the new proportions could not disguise the fact that the upper portion is an afterthought.  

Lyons attempted, somewhat successfully, to meld the addition with the original design.  The cornice was initially crowned by ornate cresting.

Banner targeted the apparel industry in his advertisements.  And it worked.  In 1899 his tenants included Goldberg, Solomon & Co. (deemed by themselves "The Overcoat Kings"); Cohen & Levy, clothing makers; The National Neckwear Company; and Harris Samilson.

The Clothiers' and Haberdashers' Weekly, December 15, 1899 (copyright expired)

It looked for a time in 1906 that Peter Banner might lose not only the Banner Building, where he still maintained his offices, but other properties like the opulent St. Urban apartment building at No. 285 Central Park West.   At the end of February that year he became ill and was bed-ridden.   Despite the fact that, according to The New York Times on March 18, "In December last he was reputed to be worth $1,000,0000 clear" (nearly 30 times that much today), his creditors panicked.

The newspaper explained, "Mr. Banner has been ill for three weeks, and some of the material men among the creditors heard that he had a stroke of apoplexy three weeks ago.  Payments on the work had been made up to the time he was stricken."  Creditors filed claims totaling $450,000 against his estate.  Banner recovered, resumed payment of his contracts, and things returned to normal.

At the time, the ground floor store was home to the Knickerbocker Drugstore.  It installed a novel addition around 1905, the Cranitonic Hair Clinic.  Here customers could buy a bottle of Cranitonic Hair Food, touted as "The only real microbicide among hair preparations, and therefore, the only preventer of baldness and destroyer of dandruff."  The could also undergo a "microscopic examination of your hair" in the clinic for free.  One presumes that the examinations most often resulted in the recommendation of Cranitonic Hair Food.

The Evening World, January 18, 1905 (copyright expired)

Among the tenants in 1909 were Henry B. Loewenstein and Sol Solomon, both men's accessories merchants.  Their insurance companies became understandably suspicious when, as reported by The Indicator on August 5, "twelve burglaries had been reported recently from the building at 648 Broadway."  One of the latest had occurred on July 2 when Henry B. Loewenstein told police that his showroom had been broken into and "that $7,000 worth of kid and silk gloves had been stolen."  When detectives searched the premises, they found a checkbook with a stub made out to M. Trotsky, "a person well known to them, and in the Rogues' Gallery as a professional burglar."

Rather than question Loewenstein about the payment and tip their hand, they tracked his movements.  The Indicator reported "They soon found that he was very chummy with a man named Sol Solomon, who had a business on the same floor at 648 Broadway."  And so undercover detectives began shadowing him, as well.  During the last week of September Solomon sent an expressman with a load of silk and kid gloves to a Lafayette Street saloon.  Before he could file a police report on the "burglary," he was arrested, along with the wagon driver.  Both Solomon and Loewenstein were charged with "burglary insurance swindle."

In 1910 the former Knickerbocker Drugstore became one of the city's first cafeterias, the Capitol Lunch.  It was an innovative idea aimed at office workers. There were no waiters (reducing the cost of a lunch).  Customers purchased their meals at a counter.  They then took their trays to "one arm" chairs lined up along the wall.  There were no tables; instead customers ate at what was similar to turn-of-the-century school desks.

The interior of the Capitol Lunch would have looked much like this one.  original source unknown.

Peter Banner retained ownership of No. 648 Broadway until 1916.  On April 16 that year The New York Times reported on an "interesting mid-Broadway deal."  It was the "purchased by Duke de Moro of Essex, England, of the ten-story commercial building at 648 Broadway."

The building was the scene of a terrifying and fatal incident on May 6, 1921 when an elevator plummeted five stories, killing two passengers.  The 26-year old operator, Harold Jackson, was arrested on homicide charges.  Fortunately for him, he was freed on May 27.

No. 648 Broadway continued to house apparel and millinery firms throughout the first half of the 20th century.  In 1928 the millinery firms of Teitler Bros. and the Biltmore Hat Company operated here, for instance.  A more surprising tenant came in 1929 when the office of the American Association of Plumbers Helpers moved in.

Mid-century saw a new type of tenant in the building as the garment district moved northward.  The end of World War II sparked the emergence of Army-Navy stores across the nation which sold off military surplus.  In 1950 Drucker Surplus Co., Inc. was in the building, offering Army mackinaws for $4.99 and regulation "50% wool shirt and drawers" for $.98 each.   A pair of chino work pants could be had for $1.99--about $20 today.

Drucker Surplus was replaced in the early 1960's by Jay-Man, which described itself as "New York's first and only office equipment Supermarket."  By then a renaissance of sorts was overtaking the Broadway neighborhood.  By 1977 the off-off-Broadway theater Relativity Media Lab was here; and in 1980 the nightclub Isaiah's opened.  On July 3 that year The Villager noted that the $5 cover charge on Fridays "includes Reggae dancing all night."

In the meantime, several of the former lofts and offices upstairs were being used by artists and others as residential spaces--under the radar of city buildings officials.  



In 1981 the Jazz Forum opened.  The featured acts were routinely covered by The New York Times, which reported on April 4, 1982, "The tap choreographer Gail Conrad will present 'tap-dance shorts' for herself and her six dancers and five musicians at the Jazz Forum."

Upstairs was The Gay and Lesbian Switchboard, an all-volunteer "counseling, referral and information service for gay people and those interested in gay people."  Founded in 1972 and supported solely by donations, it was staffed from noon to midnight.  The telephone operators answered 30,000 questions a year from people want to to "talk about everything from the suicide of a gay friend to where to find a gay dentist," according to Douglas Martin's article in The New York Times on May 2, 1990.

The Village Independent Democrats moved its offices into the building in November 1992 after having been just off Sheridan Square for three decades.  

In June 1995 the president and treasure of The Gay and Lesbian Switchboard stepped down after six years service.  An acting treasurer briefly took his spot.  When the permanent treasurer, who was selected within a few months, contacted the bank he was shocked to find a balance of $69.  It seemed that the acting treasurer had absconded with the group's $14,000 operating funds and surplus reserves.

With the threat of shutting down looming, the rent three months in arrears and the telephone company unpaid, president Raymond Wadkins wrote to donors on September 23, "After 23 scandal-free years of serving our community, the switchboard is in real danger of closing."  Within a week $11,000 was received, allowing the service to continue.

From the mid-1990's to around 2007 the ground floor was home to F.A.T. Jeans & Shoes, affiliated with the Yellow Rat Bastard, the flagship store of which was further south on Broadway in Soho.  


A renovation to the building completed in 2015 resulted in offices throughout and a carefully restored façade.  Unfortunately the iron cresting above the cornice was removed sometime before 1938. But other than that and the expected replacement windows, the Banner Building appears nearly unchanged since 1899 Robert T. Lyons added the two upper floors.

photographs by the author
many thanks to reader Rich Gombar for suggesting this post