The 1926 1 Sutton Place South

 

photo by Justin Weiner, BWArchitects

In 1920 a startling project was begun that transformed 18 vintage brownstones on Sutton Place between 57th and 58th Street into an exclusive residential enclave around a common garden.  The quarter, previously deemed by The New York Times to be a slum, was suddenly populated by millionaires like Anne Harriman Vanderbilt, W. Seward Webb Jr., and Elisabeth Marbury.

In 1925 Henry Phipps Jr., whose father was a partner of Andrew Carnegie, bought up the block to the south of Sutton Place, from 56th to 57th Street, and commissioned the architectural firm of Cross & Cross, along with Rosario Candela, to design a high-end apartment building that would loosely follow the plan of the Sutton Place mansions--a U-shaped residential structure that embraced common manicured lawns overlooking the river.  

Faced in brown brick and trimmed in limestone, the dignified, 14-story building was intended for wealthy residents.  On the lower part of the garden was a tennis court and private dock for yachts.  A recessed porte cochere allowed automobiles to deposit their passengers directly at the entrance door, protected from weather and prying eyes.

photo by Wurts Bros, from the collection of the New York Public Library

There were 32 apartments of 12 or 13 rooms, including several duplexes, plus the massive penthouse apartment of the Frederick Guests.  The British-born Guest, a cousin of Winston Churchill, was married to Henry Phipps's daughter, Amy.  Their 6,400-square-foot apartment boasted 17 rooms, including two 40-foot drawing rooms, four bedrooms, four maids' rooms, 18th century painted door frames, and wrap-around terraces.

Also moving into apartments in the new building were Amy's brother, John S. Phipps, and their sister Helen Margaret Phipps Martin and her family.  Helen's husband, Bradley Martin Jr., was the son of one of the most visible couples in 19th century New York society.  The famous Bradley Martin Ball of February 1897 had cost the Martins around $10 million in 2023 dollars.  

Bradley Martin, Jr. (original source unknown)

Bradley Martin Jr. was a director of the Standard Trust Co., the Van Norden Trust Co., the New Jersey & Nineteenth Ward Bank, and of the Hudson Trust Co.  He and Helen had four children, Henry Bradley, Townsend Bradley, and twins Alastair Bradley and Esmond Bradley.  The family owned several estates in the United Kingdom, including Fetteresso Castle.  The New York Times commented that their country estate at Westbury, Long Island, "is one of the locality's show-places."

A typical apartment included multiple bedrooms and maids' rooms.  1926 real estate brochure.

On November 20, 1927, The New York Times reported, "Vincent Astor and Mrs. Astor have established their residence for the Winter at 1 Sutton Place South, it was learned yesterday.  This picturesque segment of Avenue A, on the banks of the East River, now harbors among its social and artistic celebrities an Astor, a Morgan and a Vanderbilt, names associated for many years with the exclusiveness of Fifth Avenue."  The Astors' residency was intended to be short-lived while the construction of their home at 130 East 80th Street was underway.

Among the other original residents were Charles Hamilton Sabin and his second wife, Pauline Morton Smith.   The couple maintained a country estate, Bayberry Land, in Southampton (interestingly, also designed by Cross & Cross), and a 1,961-acre plantation, The Oaks, in Goose Creek Carolina.  Sabin was chairman of the board of the Guaranty Trust Company.  Pauline was highly-visible for her ardent stand against Prohibition, and was the treasurer of the Association Against the Prohibition Amendment.

The Charles Sabins, from the collection of the Library of Congress

The grand entertaining in the Sabin apartment was evidenced in an article in the Albany newspaper The Times Union which reported on a dinner party on January 14, 1928.  Guests came from Rhode Island, Connecticut, Washington, D.C., Ohio, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Indiana and even Iowa.

Charles H. Sabin died at Bayberry Lane on October 11, 1933 of a cerebral hemorrhage and was buried at Southampton Cemetery.  Despite Pauline's being in mourning, five months later on March 9, 1934 the wedding of her niece, Jean Potter Sodwedel to Edmund Coffin Stout, Jr. was held in the apartment.  

When Wurts Bros. took this photograph in 1927, the parcel across Avenue A was ready for development.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

Equally prominent were Mrs. Charles Robinson Smith, her daughter Gertrude Robinson Smith, and her brother Count Vincent de Wierzbicki, who shared a large apartment.  Mrs. Smith was born Jennie Porter Steele in 1858 and married Charles Robinson Smith on April 29, 1879.  Smith, who died in 1930, was a lawyer and industrialist, the founder of the General Chemical Company of New York.  

Jennie divided her time between 1 Sutton Place, her country residence in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, and her home in Paris.  She had a sterling American pedigree.  Her ancestor Richard Mather was an early settler of Massachusetts, the father of Increase Mather, and grandfather of Cotton Mather.  Another ancestor was Robert Baily, credited with having been the first to call George Washington the "father of his country."

When Jennie was eight years old, her widowed mother Elizabeth Wadsworth Harris Steele took her to Paris.  There Elizabeth married Count Vincent de Wierzbicki.  Jennie would grow up in France, not returning to New York until 1873.  Among her friends were author Alexandre Dumas, Gustav Mahler, Edith Wharton, and Sarah Bernhardt.

Gertrude Robinson Smith, who never married, was prominent in the Berkshire summer social colony.  The Smiths' country home, Dugway, was in Stockbridge, Massachusetts.  Gertrude was a founder of the Berkshire Symphonic Festival, later named Tanglewood.

Jennie and her brother spent much time together. On April 28, 1934, for instance, The New York Sun reported, "Mrs. Charles Robinson Smith and her brother, Count Vincent de Wierzbicki of 1 Sutton Place, South, will pass the summer in Paris, and their place, the Dugway at Stockbridge, will be occupied by Mrs. Smith's son-in-law and daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Lyman Beecher Stowe...Miss Gertrude Robinson Smith and Miss Miriam Oliver also will arrive [at Stockbridge] on May 1 at their log cabin."

Bradley and Helen Martin escaped the New York cold in 1933 with their son Townsend by going to the Huntington Hotel in Pasadena, California for the winter.  Helen was rushed to the Pasadena Hospital on March 11, 1934 with a ruptured appendix.  Following an operation, peritonitis developed and she died on March 16.   Her body was transported back to New York for burial in Westbury, Long Island.

In December 1937 the engagement of Alastair Bradley Martin to Edith Park was announced.  The New York Sun reported, "Their wedding will take place in June, following Mr. Martin's graduation from Princeton University."

 

Charlotte Goodridge Morton died in her apartment at the age of 80 on December 28, 1938.  Her husband, Paul Morton, who had died 21 years earlier, had been U.S. Secretary of the Navy under President Theodore Roosevelt.  His brother, Joy Sterling Morton, founded the Morton Salt Company.  His father had been Secretary of Agriculture under President Grover Cleveland, and founded Arbor Day.  

The socially-visible Hamilton family lived in 1 Sutton Place South at the time.  Juliet Pierpont Morgan Hamilton was the widow of William Pierson Hamilton.  She lived with her son, Alexander Morgan Hamilton and his wife, the former Elizabeth Malcolm Peltz.   Juliet's father was millionaire banker J. Pierpont Morgan, and Alexander's great-great-grandfather was founding father Alexander Hamilton.

On April 7, 1945, Jennie Porter Steele Robinson Smith died in her apartment at the age of 87.  Gertrude Robinson Smith remained in the apartment. 

By mid-century attorney and yachtsman Walbridge Smith Taft and his family were residents of 1 Sutton Place South.  Taft, who was appointed chairman of the Salvation Army Association in 1940, was a nephew of former President William Howard Taft.  Walbridge and his wife, the former Elizabeth Clark, had three children, Henry Waters, Elizabeth, and Lucie Clark.  Their summer home was in Pelham Manor, New York.

Walbridge Smith Taft (original source unknown)

Lucie was married to S. Willets Meyer in the Church of the Heavenly Rest on November 10, 1950.  Less than two months later, on January 2, 1951, Walbridge Smith Taft died in the apartment age the age of 66.  He had suffered a heart attack three years earlier and had never fully recovered.

Two views of the Mrs. Samuel Welldon apartment in 1953.  from the collection of the Library of Congress.

The following decade saw the Russell family living at 1 Sutton Place South.  Lieutenant Edwin Fairman Russell was with the U.S. Navy, and his wife, Lady Sarah Consuelo Spencer Churchill, was the daughter of the 10th Duke of Marlborough and the former Alexandra Mary Hilda Cadogan.  She grew up in Blenheim Palace.  Her grandmother was Consuelo Vanderbilt, daughter of William Kissam and Alva Vanderbilt, and wife of the 9th Duke of Marlborough.  Sarah's cousin was British Prime Minister Winston Churchill.  

The Russells had four daughters, Serena; Consuelo Sarah, known familiarly as Mimi; Jacqueline; and Alexandra.  The family's country home was in Old Lyme, Connecticut.

Mimi Russell found herself in trouble in 1963.  Although debutante entertainments were customarily held during the winter social season, a party was held in Southampton that summer to which she was invited.  It did not end well.  Police arrested 13 young men and one girl--17-year-old Mimi Russell.  They were "accused of wrecking a Southampton beach house after a debutante's party," according to The New York Times.  The discussions that ensued behind closed doors at 1 Sutton Place South can only be imagined.  Happily for Mimi, half a year later, in February 1964, the charges against her were dropped for "lack of proof."

In June that year the London Daily Express reported that Mimi's sister, Serena, was engaged to Broadway producer Michael Santangelo.  The couple was married that summer on the Southampton estate of Serena's grandmother, Consuelo Vanderbilt-Balsan (former Duchess of Marlborough).

Frederick Guest died in 1937 and Amy Phipps Guest died in 1959.  Their son Winston and his wife, garden columnist C. Z. Guest remained in their massive penthouse.  They retained the antique pine boiserie imported by Amy Guest, the Georgian paneled library, and the Queen Anne style dining room.

In 1963 the couple sold the penthouse, described by Winston Guest as "the most magnificent [apartment] in New York City" to heiress and philanthropist Janet Annenberg Hooker.  She was the sister of communications mogul Walter Annenberg.  A month after Hooker's death at the age of 93 in December 1997, the penthouse was placed on the market for $15 million.

Among the well-known residents of 1 Sutton Place South in the early 21st century were Patricia Kennedy Lawford and her son Christopher.  She was the widow of actor Peter Lawford and sister to President John F. Kennedy.  

Designer Caroline Roehm owned a duplex at the time.  The New York Times journalist Dan Shaw described her apartment on October 15, 2006.   He said that portraits "of aristocrats by Louise-Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun, Sir Joshua Reynolds and Franz Xaver Winterhalter "gaze down upon an assortment of mostly 18th-century furniture from England, France, Italy, Russia and Sweden, including a 19th-century neo-Classical piano."  Roehm told him the piano was "an Erand, which is what Chopin preferred to play on."

This apartment has a tiled entrance hall with elegant Georgian doorways. image via elliman.com

While the preponderance of early 20th century apartment buildings eventually fell from favor, 1 Sutton Place South did not.  It continues to be one of the most distinguished addresses in Manhattan.

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The 1930 Hangar Club - 34-36 East 63rd Street

On August 16, 1929 The New York Times reported on the "development of a new club for men interested in aviation."  On the previous day the architectural firm of Cross & Cross had filed plans for a five-story clubhouse at Nos. 34 and 36 East 63rd Street to replace two upscale dwellings--one of them designed in 1901 by the mansion architect C. P. H. Gilbert.  The article noted "John W. Cutler of the banking firm of Edward B. Smith & Co...was named as the owner, but it is understood that Mr. Cutler has associated with him several men prominent in aviation."

Indeed, the Hangar Club would be initially composed of "aviation executives, bankers and others interested in the financing and development of aviation," according to the newspaper a month later.  Among them were some of the wealthiest men in the city, including stockbroker Hugh Baker; James G. Blaine, president of Fidelity Trust Company; W. A. Harriman; banker John Hay Whitney; and aviation heads like C. V. Whitney of the Aviation Corporation of America; F. B. Rentschler, president of United Aircraft & Transport Corporation; and G. B. Grosvenor, president of Aviation Corporation.

The choice of architects was not surprising.  Eliot Cross was a member and governor of the new club.  He and his brother, John Walter Cross, produced a dignified neo-Georgian style clubhouse that slipped quietly into the exclusive residential block.  Centered in the rusticated limestone base, its arched doorway was sheltered by a columned portico.  A three-story rounded bay terminated in exquisite iron railings.

The upper stories were clad in Flemish-bond brick and trimmed in stone.  The keystone of the tall, central window of the second floor was carved with the face of Mercury, the wing-footed Roman god and emblem of the club.  That window was crowned by a triangular pediment.  The fifth floor took the form of a slate-shingled mansard.

When construction was completed in 1930 its cost was $200,000--over $3 million today.  Despite the stock market crash on October 24, 1929, just after ground had been broken, the millionaire members forged on with the expensive furnishings in keeping with the 18th century architecture. 

photo by Wurts Bros, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The original 200 members enjoyed what The Times called "all the comforts of a well-appointed home."  The first floor contained cloak, shower and lounge rooms.  On the second floor were a large lounge at the front of the building and a game room and bar at the rear.  Prohibition would not end for another three years so the paneling of the bar room cleverly hid lockable cubicles "in which members could keep their individual liquor supply," said The Times years later.

A large dining room and two private dining rooms took up the third floor.  Four "attractively appointed bedrooms" for out-of-town members were on the fourth, and servants' quarters filled the top floor.

The club was furnished with 18th century English furniture and modern reproductions.  Two antique Hepplewhite mahogany wheel-back armchairs owned by the club were copied for the 72 dining rooms chairs.  There were several antique Sheraton pieces, including a sideboard.  The silver-plated flatware and serving pieces were inscribed with the head of Mercury.  The candelabra were not plated, but were sterling silver.

The Hangar Club quickly became a favorite of publishers and writers, as well.  On October 19, 1931 syndicated columnist Charles Hanson Towne reported on a luncheon given by Nelson Doubleday for H. G. Wells to which he had been invited.  "It was at the Hanger Club, of which I had never even heard of, so rapidly do new organizations spring up in New York," he said.  At the event Doubleday told Towne "that Maugham's Of Human Bondage goes right on selling."  William Somerset Maugham was also a Hangar Club member.

Soon men of politics and civic positions joined the initial group.  During his run for governor of New York in October 1934 reporters caught Robert Moses on the sidewalk after his breakfast in the club.  Although he lost the election, he is forever remembered for his massive public works.

The dining room was often the scene of political and business luncheons.  A somewhat surprising event was the luncheon for the film trade press hosted by Earle G. Hines, president of General Theaters Equipment Corp. on April 15, 1938.  The Film Daily reported that he used the event to announce the release of the new "Four Star Simplex Sound System."  

It was emblematic of the changes within the Hangar Club.  By now the fervor over airplanes had calmed and social clubs based on aviation were losing momentum.  Within a year of that luncheon the club had disbanded.

A two-day auction on October 22 and 23, 1941 liquidated the furnishings.  Along with the leather club furniture, according to The Sun, were "the club's complete Reed & Barton silver-plated table service, aeronautical prints, books, table linens, Oriental rugs and lamps, mantel clocks, small bronze and marble busts, paintings and hearth fittings."

Along with the 18th century antiques, the 72 dining rooms chairs were sold in lots of six and twelve.  Included in the silverware were six tea services.  The New York Times mentioned "Some of this silverware has not been removed from its original packages."

In reporting on the upcoming sale of the "luxurious furnishings," The Times explained "Within a short time this five-story brick and stone structure, which formerly housed a club of wealthy New Yorkers, will take on the austere simplicity of a religious institution devoted to teaching girls and will be known as The Assisium."

The clubhouse had been purchased by the Missionary Sisters of the Third Order of St. Francis as a business school for girls.  Renovations completed in 1941 resulted in offices, a lounge and one classroom on the first floor.  The second floor barroom ironically made way for a chapel and two classrooms.  There were now classrooms and the dining room on the third, and bedrooms on the top two floors for the nuns.

The Assisium Secretarial School remained in the building into the 1980's when it was closed by the Archdiocese.  It became home to a variety of offices before being sold in 2003 for just under $20 million and converted to a private residence.

photographs by the author

The Lewis S. Morris House - 116 East 80th Street

The fanlight above the main entrance and the window above the service entrance continue the pattern of arches set by the ground floor openings. 

Lewis Spencer Morris could claim a long and dignified American pedigree.  His wealthy ancestor Richard Morris, arrived in New York around 1670.  He purchased a 500-acre farm in what is now the Bronx (the family name survives in the Morris Heights and Morrisania neighborhoods).  Another ancestor,  Lewis Morris III, signed the Declaration of Independence.

The son of Henry Lewis Morris and the former Anna Rutherfurd, Lewis was born on August 21, 1884,  He attended the exclusive Browning School before going on to Princeton University, graduating in 1906.  The following year, on April 6, he married Emily Pell Coster, the daughter of Charles Henry Coster, a partner of J. P. Morgan.  Morris joined his father's law firm, Morris & McVeigh in 1917.

He and Emily were living at No. 182 East 64th Street when, on June 5, 1921, The New York Herald reported that he had purchased the old three-story brownstone houses at Nos. 116 and 118 East 80th Street from Mary U. Hoffman.  The article noted that Morris "plans to improve the site with a modern residence."  Indeed he did.

The architectural firm of Cross & Cross evoked the Morris family's august heritage with brick and stone.   The 36-foot wide residence was designed in the neo-Federal style; its Flemish bond brickwork and 18th century design elements displaying dignified refinement.  The projecting central bay provided dimension; while a brick and stone pediment above the cornice disguised the fact that the house was four stories high.  Within the pediment were terra cotta festoons which draped over a large bas relief medallion--the portrait of which is possibly Lewis Morris III.

Historians speculate on the identity of the likeness; possibly Lewis Morris III.

Completed in 1922, the interiors were designed by Elsie Cobb Wilson, who deftly blended the 18th with the 20th century.  Furnishings and other details echoed the designs of Sheraton and Adam, yet managed to embody the bright, sleek taste of the 1920's.

Certain spaces, like the stair hall and library, were traditional.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

Like other wealthy couples, Lewis and Emily were on the move.  On September 26, 1932, for instance, the Rockland County Evening Journal noted "Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Spencer Morris are expected in Tuxedo Park September 28.  They Summered at Southampton, L. I. at Villa Marla."

Along with his legal practice, Lewis was chairman of the board of the Fulton Trust Company of New York.  He was chairman of the New York Society Library, and a director of the Northern Insurance Company.  Morris held memberships in the exclusive Knickerbocker, Down Town, Racquet and Tennis, Tuxedo, Princeton and Brook Clubs.

Other spaces, like the dining room, melded 19th century designs with 1920's domestic taste.  photos by Samuel H. Gottscho from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York 

As war broke in Europe, Emily became involved in relief projects.  In 1940 she was president of the American branch of the French Red Cross.  Among its efforts was a benefit dinner and entertainment entitled "A Night in Trouville" on June 25 that year at the Cafe Trouville to benefit the Mobile Surgical Unit, Inc.

Another conflict was brewing much closer to home at the time.  On December 20, 1941 The New York Times reported that Emily "obtained a divorce today from Lewis Spencer Morris."  The grounds, said the article, were cruelty.

In fact, Lewis had fallen in love with another woman.  Five weeks later, on January 21, he married Louise Stephanie Stewart Trevor Lord.  The Times noted the following day that "No announcement had been made of the engagement."

Morris sold the 80th Street house later that year.  His life with Louise would not be long.  His health soon failed, and after an extended illness he died in Roosevelt Hospital on November 28, 1944.

No. 116 East 80th Street continued life as a private residence.  It sold in 1988 for $11 million (more than twice that amount today) setting the record for the highest price paid for a single-family residence.  The purchaser was financier Sir James Goldsmith.

Goldsmith's reputation for corporate raiding (his attempted hostile take over of the Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company in 1986 which reaped his company's $90 million) resulted in his being the inspiration for character Sir Larry Wildman in the 1987 film Wall Street.

Goldsmith died on July 18, 1997.  The 80th Street house was placed on the market the following year for $16 million.  The handsome mansion remains a single family home.

photographs by the author

The City Bank-Farmers' Trust Company Bldg - 20 Exchange Place

photo by Edmund Vincent Gillon from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

On November 23, 1929 the Perth, Australia newspaper The West Australian, no doubt caused its readers to gasp when it published a rendering by New York architects Cross & Cross of a 71-story building projected for Lower Manhattan.  "When completed this will be the world's tallest building, 925ft. high, and consisting of 71 storeys.  It is being erected by the City Bank Farmer Trust Co. in New York.  The foundations will be completed early next year, and the building is expected to be ready for occupation in 1931."

The rendering released by Cross & Cross depicted a towering structure.  The Western Australian, Nov. 23, 1929 (copyright expired)

Only seven months earlier National City Bank, whose offices were at No. 55 Wall Street, directly opposite the building site to the rear, had merged the trust portion of its business with the Farmers' Loan Trust Company.  While National City Bank continued to operate under that name, its trust functions and that of its new partner became the City Bank Farmers' Trust Company.

The architects filed preliminary plans on October 2, 1929.  The $9.5 million building would fill the block bounded by Exchange Place, Hanover Street, William Street and Beaver Street.  It would replace three older buildings occupied by the Canadian Bank of Commerce, the Farmers' Loan and Trust, and the Delaware, Lackawanna & Western Railroad Co.  In reporting on the filing, The New York Times made special note that "provision for twenty-seven elevators has been made."

At the time the newly-formed City Bank Farmers' Trust Company was in negotiations to acquire the Corn Exchange Bank.  That merger would have created the wealthiest bank in the world.  But the Stock Market crash, just three weeks after the building plans were filed, aborted that scheme.

Quickly Cross & Cross were sent back to the drawing board.  The revised plans chopped 240 feet off the tower and reduced the number of floors to 59.   The architects were intentionally vague about their style.  The Architectural Forum in July 1931 wrote "The architects hold no brief for any particular architectural style."  Instead, said the article, they "have been at some pains" to make both the materials and designs an expression of the location of the building--the financial center of New York--and the "mechanical and economic forces" of the day.

Contemporary critics called the style "Modern Classic;" while it is more often given the blanket description of Art Deco today.  Yet the striking skyscraper had none of the zig-zagging lightning bolts and other decorations that distinguished many of the Jazz Age Art Deco buildings rising throughout the city.  Instead, Cross & Cross relied on high-end materials (the entire structure was faced in stone, and nickel-silver, a modern white colored alloy used for details) and clever sculptured symbols of the banking industry.

Modes of transportation are depicted in the panels of the doors.

Construction on the towering skyscraper was completed within a year.  Even as it rose and despite the economic conditions, financial and legal firms signed leases.  On December 22, 1930, for instance, attorneys Conklin & Bentley took space, the same day that the legal firm of Van Doren, Dreyer & Cotton took most of the 30th floor.  The Canadian Bank of Commerce, which lost its building to this one, was a major tenant from its conception.

The Exchange Place entrance is surrounded by sculptures of coins from around the world.  At bottom left, for instance, is a buffalo head nickel.

Following the close of banking hours on Friday, February 20, 1931 "the task of moving the billions of dollars of money and securities, together with other property," into the new building (connected to No. 55 Wall Street by a pedestrian bridge) began.  The process, under heavy guard, took the entire weekend.  And then the skyscraper was ready for business.

On Tuesday morning, February 24, the doors were opened.  The New York Times reported "Visitors thronged the building all day, an hourly average of 3,851 guests passing into the new quarters through the two main entrances during business hours."

The Times called the building "magnificent" and critic Parker Chase said "The building throughout is the very last word in all that spells DELUXE."  While the skyscraper had to relinquish its earlier hoped-for title of "tallest building in the world," its owners could take solace in that it was the "tallest building with a predominantly stone facade."  The Times noted "With the exception of the first story, which is made of Mohegan granite, the building is constructed of white Rockwood Alabama stone."

The main banking room was paneled in walnut and surmounted by a dome.  The cavernous space was decorated for the opening.  "On all side were masses of flowers that had been sent by banks and business firms in all parts of the world," said The Times.

The newly-completed building towered over its nearest neighbors.  photo by Irving Underhill from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

It was not necessarily the stone cladding or the lavish interiors that caught the attention of newspapers internationally, but the infrastructure necessary to service the skyscraper.   The Australian newspaper The Recorder reported on May 16, 1931, "The largest private telephone exchange in the world, with 800 trunk lines, 8,000 extensions and 800 tie-line" had been installed.  "Forty men worked for eighteen months planning and constructing the great exchange and 200 workmen cut the lines over and placed them in operation."

It would not be long before the building was the scene of an exciting police sting.  On Saturday, February 25, 1932 two men, 32-year old C. J. Williams and 38-year old Arnold Nichols, entered the 9th floor offices of City Bank-Farmers' Trust and presented a $9.670 check.  It was signed by an official of a large chain store.  The men expressed that they wanted to use the check to buy $5,000 worth of municipal bonds.

The clerk explained that the check would have to clear before the bonds and balance of cash could be turned over.  He told them to come back on Wednesday.  And they did.

But the staff was on to their scheme by now.  While one clerk kept them busy, another called the police.  The check, it had turned out, was a forgery.  Unfortunately for Williams and Nichols, the New York City Police Department had initiated its new "radio system" the day before.  Certain police cars, called "motor patrols," were now equipped with radios.

A patrol car with officers Timothy O'Donohue and Andrew Kerrigan was nearby and responded.  "The car swerved sharply and, with siren going, headed for 20 Exchange Place.  A few seconds later the gun squad car with five plain-clothes men in it, also pulled up at the door," reported The Times.

The newspaper noted "The were the first prisoners taken in this city with the aid of the radio system."  Both professed their innocence.  While Nichols denied any involvement at all, Williams admitted he had presented the check "but maintained that he had won it in a dice game."

The iconography of the decoration is sometimes puzzling.  Here a woman pours water, surrounded by a stork, a swan, a wolf and a squirrel; while above two owls stand rigidly at attention.

A trip to No. 20 Exchange Place would change the life of 22-year old Albert Correri on September 23, 1935. The son of immigrants, the Depression had dealt a hard blow to his family, who lived on Government relief in Brooklyn.

Correri was a high school graduate and had studied one year at Columbia, hoping for a career as a journalist.  But when money ran out, he had to drop out.  Now he worked as a deliveryman for a coffee shop, making a weekly salary of $3.15 ($55 in today's dollars).

Just after noon that day his boss handed him a bag of sandwiches, saying "Rush order for 20 Exchange Place."   As he threaded his way among the crowd on Pearl Street, he noticed a package on the sidewalk between Pine and Wall Streets.  While no one else took notice of it, he picked it up.

The Times said the following day "Albert is small, Latin and unobtrusive; he is certain that no one paid any attention to this commonplace gesture."  Aware that his delivery was a rush order, he tucked the small packet into his coat pocket and delivered the lunch.

On his way out, he paused in the foyer of 20 Exchange Place and peeked inside the wrappings of the bundle. He saw a $10,000 bond.  Then, flicking through the stack, he realized he was holding $150,000 in negotiable bonds.  But he still had work to do.  "Albert kept his feet on the ground.  He went right ahead and delivered a second batch of sandwiches to 15 Broad Street.  Ham and swiss cheese on rye, he thinks there were," reported The Times.

Correri went back to the restaurant and turned the bonds over to his employer.  Before long five men, including a vice president, from C. F. Childs & Co. were in the coffee shop, "by now quite frantic," to retrieve their bonds.  They promised Correri a reward.  "Now he dreams of going on with his study of journalist," said the newspaper, "He said it had to be journalism."

In the meantime, National City Bank's president, Charles E. Mitchell, had suffered intense criticism.  His aggressive and, some would say, questionable policies are blamed by historical economists as major influences in the stock market crash of 1929.  In 1933 the Pecora Commission was formed; a Senate committee set up to investigate Mitchell.  Committee member Senator Carter Glass reported that “Mitchell, more than any 50 men is responsible for this stock crash.”

On February that year Mitchell resigned, his place taken by the James H. Perkins, president of the City Bank Farmers' Trust Company.

It was not the crime, but the circumstances surrounding that were more startling in 1937.  In November that year a well-dressed man opened an account under the name of F. W. Blackstone.  He deposited a check signed by George Workmaster for $3,000 and later another for $4,576.  The combined amount would be about $130,000 today.  When Workmaster got his statement at the end of the month he was shocked and notified authorities.

Bank staff was on the lookout for the 49-year old Blackstone, described as "245 pounds with gray hair and mustache."  When stockbroker Bertram M. Campbell walked in, he was arrested and charged with forgery.  During his trial, according to The New York Times, "a number of bank employes and others [identified him] as the man who deposited the forged checks and drew on them."  Campbell was sent to Sing Sing with a sentence of five to ten years. 

But he was innocent.

Bertram M. Campbell was a dead ringer for Alexander D. L, Thiel, also 49 years old, also 245 pounds with gray hair and mustache.   Unlike the law-abiding broker, Thiel was a professional criminal, later described by Government agents as "one of the smoothest big-time crooks and forgers in the United States."

Thiel did have a conscience, however.  Years later Assistant U.S. Attorney John J. Donovan Jr., explained "wanting to help Mr. Campbell, he determined to commit another forgery, hoping that the police would recognize that Mr. Campbell could not have forged the checks...The attempt to help Mr. Campbell failed, but the transaction netted Thiel a profit of $15,000."

Amazingly, Thiel avoided capture for nearly a decade.  Donovan said in 1945 his "forgeries were so artistic they fooled bank experts and enabled him to steal $480,000 since 1930 in various parts of the country."  $200,000 of that came from New York City banks.

As a matter of fact, Thiel never was apprehended for his forgeries.  He was arrested as a drug addict in Lexington, Kentucky in March 1945.  A suspicious FBI agent started delving into his background, undercovering one crime, then another, then another.  Finally Thiel confessed to the long list of forgeries, including the ones for which Bertram M. Campbell had been incarcerated.

Even eight years later, said The New York Times, Campbell "resembles Thiel in a remarkable degree."  He asked Governor Dewey for a full and complete pardon and his lawyers began work "to sue the State for recovery for false imprisonment."

Coincidentally, Governor Thomas E. Dewey had operated his legal practice in 20 Exchange Place before his election in 1941.  Following his victory reporters had swarmed the hallways for months.  Finally, on December 7, 1942 he held a press conference in his offices to lay out his inauguration day plans.  His ceremony, he said, would be very simple, because during wartime "we should save as much of expenses as possible."

A Spanish coin sits above this Exchange Place window; its bronze  railing including a lion-faced fasces flanked by a woman holding a sphere and a man with chisel and pick-ax.

Early 20th century skyscrapers did not have the safety procedures in place--like non-opening windows--which we are accustomed to today.  That proved tragic in the fall of 1951.   Robert A. Roth was a member of the law firm of Erich, Stock, Leighton & Holland which had offices on the 37th floor.  The 30-year old attorney went to the men's room just before 9:00 on the evening of October 24.  He opened the window and jumped out.

By now the City Bank Farmers' Trust Company had dissolved and No. 20 was a branch office of the First National City Bank.   The institution was known for providing extra benefits for its employees, like its in-house art classes.   Of the after-hours art students, an instructor said "They just slug it out in class and sometimes surprise themselves by the way it turns out."

The banking room was the scene of an employee art show of 164 oils and watercolors in September 1956.  The Times commented "A girl who cuts coupons in a vault has painted 'When Day is Done,' a scene far removed from the financial district.  A credit men is showing pictures of 'Old Trunk' and 'Discarded Guitar.'"

The architects included decidedly American motifs in the rear service door--a bison head and two coiled rattlesnakes.

In 1961 significant interior construction was taking place within the skyscraper when fire broke out on the 7th floor on November 16.  It started in a pile of construction materials just after noon causing the evacuation of about 4,000 terrified employees.  But 25 persons, mostly women, were on a three elevators when they short-circuited and jolted to a stop.  They were rescued by firefighters and only two, both elevator operators, suffered injuries.  Overcome with smoke they were taken to Beekman-Downtown Hospital and released.  The fire was extinguished after about 30 minutes.

When the now-historic building was sold in late 1997 to a partnership of Witkoff Group and Kamran Hakim, real estate operators and preservationists wondered about the new owner's plans.  There were possibilities of conversation to residential use, adapting part of the building as a hotel, or simply remodeling it for continued office purposes.  The answer came when the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation signed a lease for 130,000 square feet--about four full floors.  Offices it would be.  And in January 1999 the owners announced a $25 million "improvement program to restore it to a status in keeping with its history."

But that idea was short-lived.  Just five years later the building was sold to developers Nathan Berman and Ronny Bruckner.  Although the skyscraper was almost fully occupied, Berman told The New York Times on March 20, 2004 "the vision is to retain the base of the 57-story structure for commercial use and over time transform the tower to 250 condominiums."

On this sunlit day the upper floors, seen from Beaver Street, seem to disappear into the atmosphere

The conversion preserved the banking hall and, of course, the landmarked facade.  Known as Twenty Exchange Place, in contains 350 residential spaces.   The distinctive tower with its striking sculptural details is among the most prominent structures in the Financial District, an icon of 1930s skyscraper design.

photographs by the author
many thanks to reader Peter Alsen for suggesting this post

A Tiny Surprise-- No. 407 Park Avenue

photograph by the author

In May 1906 Alice E. Schoenberger purchased the brownstone fronted house at No. 18 East 62^nd Street from George W. Jacobs.  The widow of John Hobson Schoenberger had inherited an estate of several million dollars.   Her carriages and horses were stabled in her private carriage house at No. 407 Park Avenue, between 54^th and 55^th Streets.

It was common for private stables to be located a few blocks away from the mansions of New York’s wealthy.  The unpleasant odors and noises were better kept at arm’s length.  What was surprising about Alice Schoenberger’s two-story brick carriage house was its location on Park Avenue rather than a side street.   The train tracks that had run down the middle of the avenue to Grand Central had been covered over in 1902 and the boulevard landscaped.  Now Park Avenue was changing from one of small buildings to a high-end residential thoroughfare.

In November 1910 Alice modernized her stable for the convenience of the stable boys or grooms who lived in the second floor.  She commissioned architect M. J. Callahan to do $1,000 in improvements, including a bath and pump house.

In 1912 a 12-story apartment building was completed at the northeast corner of Park Avenue and 54^th Street.  The new structure edged up against the south wall of Alice’s carriage house.  The architects had optimistically included openings along the northern wall, over the little stable building.  To protect the sunlight and air flooding those rooms, the owners, Swan Brown Company, purchased the stable from Alice Schoenberger in March, that same year.

The little carriage house had not been altered when this photo was taken.  Architectural Record (copyright expired)

The owners immediately renovated the stable as an upscale business building.  Later that year it was leased to Charles Duveen, owner of the Charles of London art gallery at No. 718 Fifth Avenue.   The opening of Duveen’s branch gallery here reflected the high-end tenor of Park Avenue by now.

The survival of the two-story building was ensured in April 1914 when Swan Brown Company accumulated the remainder of the block—Nos. 409, 411 and 413—and laid plans for another 12-story apartment building.  The Sun reported on April 7, 1914, “In order to insure light and air for both of these apartment houses the two story structure at 407…separating the present and proposed buildings, will remain as it is, except that the front will be remodeled.”

American Architect and Architecture, December 1916 (copyright expired)

And remodeled it was.  The architectural firm Cross & Cross (the architects of the new building next door) was hired to transform the carriage house to a modern garage.  The result was a limestone-clad neo-Classical structure that melded with the fashionable residences on the avenue.  A stone balustrade, carved panels of swags, and handsome bay and entrance doors provided an elegant air.  The second floor, where hay was once stored and stable boys lived, was converted to an upscale apartment.

A second-story apartment (below) was above the large garage area.  American Architect and Architecture, December 1916 (copyright expired)

The Park Avenue location was apparently far too valuable for the mere convenience of a garage.  In 1921 architect Alexander M. Bing of Bing & Bing converted the first floor to a store.  In doing so he simplified the Cross & Cross façade.   Show windows and a single doorway now sat within a rusticated base.  The second floor openings were replaced with Renaissance-inspired windows and a balconette.  Only the rooftop balustrade survived from the Cross & Cross design.

Interior decorators for the wealthy, Wood, Edey & Slater, moved into the building in June; and architect Charles K. Slayter moved his offices onto the second floor.

The string of renovations was not over.  In 1931 both floors became store space after the lingerie shop of Mlle. Marie leased the building.  The well-known boutique had been located at the corner of Madison Avenue and 55^th Street for a decade.

Only three years later the building was transformed again.  Traabert & Hoeffler, Inc., manufacturing jewelers, had signed a long-term lease on No. 407.  They hired architect J. M. Berlinger to renovate the interiors to accommodate the exclusive shop.

The New York Times, on October 26, 1934, announced “The main floor salon will be octagonal in shape and will have an overhanging balcony.  A skylight ten feet in diameter is another feature.”  The show windows were equipped with “invisible glass” to highlight the expensive merchandise.

Trabert & Hoeffer was founded in 1926 by former Metropolitan Opera singer William Howard Hoeffer and Duane Trabert.  Trabert died one year later and the firm continued under Hoeffer.  The Park Avenue store, like the upscale jewelers of Paris and London, had no counters.  Patrons entered a sitting room with small tables and pale blue velvet chairs on pale blue carpeting within pale blue walls.

During its first year on Park Avenue Trabert & Hoeffer acquired the Star of India sapphire.  The 563.35-carat gem was one of the largest in the world and nearly flawless.  In 1935 silent film star Douglas Fairbanks purchased it as a gift to Mary Pickford.  The jewel would later make international news when it was stolen from the American Museum of Natural History.

In the early hours of May 5, 1941 the “invisible glass” of the show windows proved to be an unexpected problem.  The New York Times reported “The trouble with the ‘invisible’ window of the jewelry display at 407 Park Avenue was that it was too invisible.”

At 4:30 that morning a pedestrian saw an “intoxicated man teetering” on Park Avenue, who stopped in front of the Trabert & Hoeffer display.  “He stuck his hand through the window and was last seen staggering north with an expensive clock hugged against his chest,” said the newspaper.  The drunk and the clock were not seen again.

William Howard Hoeffer retired in 1956 at the age of 64.  Paul Russo, who had been with the firm since 1935, purchased the business.  By now the store had had branches in Paris, Chicago, Beverly Hills, Palm Beach, Miami Beach and Atlantic City.  It was not the change in ownership that affected the jewelry store, it was the change in the neighborhood.

Many of the stylish apartment buildings along Park Avenue had given way to office buildings.  Even the building next door, on the southern corner, was renovated to offices in 1957.  Russo explained to a reporter in 1971 “When everything along here was apartment houses, we would have only three or four customers a day, but they would buy expensive pieces.”  Now he received 20 or more customers a day, workers in the banks and offices buildings, but they did not have the funds to purchase costly items.

Russo responded by offering small items like zodiac charms for as little at $15, and tie bars and other small items for about $30.  But the small sales, although there were many of them, were of little help when the new owner raised Trabert & Hoeffer’s rent from $33,000 a year, with taxes included, to $75,000 plus about $19,000 in real estate taxes.  Unable to cover the rent, Trabert & Hoeffer closed at the end of 1971, after 37 years in the little building.

The two-story shop where Park Avenue socialites had purchased diamonds and emeralds was converted to the Chicago Restaurant.  The eatery remained in the space for several decades until it was, once again, renovated.  In September 2005 Stefano Ricco, Italian men’s wear designer, opened a high-end boutique here.  In announcing the opening The Times said the store was “brimming with high-end silks.”

No. 407 hides between its much taller neighbors.  photo by The Real Deal

But the little building that started its life as a private carriage house survives, nestled between the two tall structures that saved it 100 years ago.

photo by the author