The John M. Roesch House - 247 East Houston Street

 

Mary Ellison Lacour occupied the recently-built two-and-a-half story house at 247 East Houston Street in 1834.  She was the widow of Peter Lacour, who was one of the incorporators in 1801 of the French Church Du St. Esprit.  The couple had at least one child, Mary, born on December 26, 1786.

Eighteen-feet wide, Mary's Federal-style house was faced in Flemish bond brick.  The openings wore paneled brownstone lintels and the peaked attic featured two dormers.  In the rear yard was a secondary house, used as rental income.  Among Mary's tenants in 1834 included Elisha Hebbard, who ran a stables; glasscutter Philip McCready; Christian Clink, a carter; and butcher Henry Cornell.

By 1844, both houses had multiple residents.  Living in the main house were John Brown and Michael Lander, who had similar professions.  They listed themselves as "mariner" and "boatman," respectively.  Also in the front house were Henry Snyder, who ran a porterhouse; and shoemaker Abraham Willis.  The rear house was occupied by two widows, Maria Beal and Eliza Jones; Dennis Needham, a "pedler;" and James Valleau, "segarmaker."

Change came to the main house when Morton Hildebrandt converted the basement level for his candy store.  He and his family lived above the shop and were the only occupants in the building.  The Hildebrandt family was replaced by that of Xavier Vallet, who also took over the confectionery store.  Following Xavier's death in 1858, his widow, listed as "F. Vallet," lived here and ran the store at least through 1860.

For years after Mrs. Vallet left, the house was shared with two families at a time.  In 1863, for instance, Isaac Durlach, a glue manufacturer; and Joseph N. Oettinger (apparently retired) occupied it.  The former candy store became home to Meier Katz's plumbing shop, which would remain through 1877.

The main house became a single-family home again when John Roesch leased it around 1879 and opened his barbershop here.  It was possibly at this time that the attic was raised to a full floor.  Interestingly, the builder took care to mimic the Federal style lintels.  Brick dentils ran below the new cornice.

In the fall of 1882, Roesch and his wife wrote to England and invited Philomena Grainal (or Grainel) to live with them.  The 15-year-old was John Roesch's niece.  Described by the New-York Tribune as, "very pretty," she arrived in October and found work as a domestic in "a respectable family at $8 a month," according to the newspaper.  (Her pay would translate to about $253 per month in 2025.)

On Sunday morning, April 29, 1883, Philomena left home and "took along with her an extra dress," according to the family.  She never returned.  Four days later, the New York Herald reported, "An alarm was sent out last night directing the police to look for Philopena [sic] Grainel, fifteen years old, who has been missing since Sunday morning."  The Roesch family suspected foul play, since, as reported by the New-York Tribune, she "is considered to be a respectable girl."

Police found Philomena on May 4, but they withheld her location.  Police Superintendent Walling said, "she does not wish her relatives to know where she is, because she says she was ill-treated by them."  Walling investigated the circumstances and concluded, "As there is no evidence that her aunt has any lawful authority over her, I have concluded to respect the girl's wishes."

Around the time of the incident, John Roesch purchased 247 East Houston Street.

Charles Wesself lived at the address in 1892, most likely in the rear house.  On July 22, 1892, The Evening World reported that the 37-year-old, "fell down stairs at his residence at 10.30 o'clock this morning and was instantly killed."

In 1896 Roesch leased the barbershop to the Archer Mfg. Co.  It appears that, although retaining possession of the property, John Roesch and his family moved out in 1897.  That year he rented the property to Dr. Moritz Schwartz for "3 years with 2 years' privilege."

Dr. Schwartz converted the former barbershop space to his dental office.  He seems to have had trouble keeping an assistant, and repeatedly placed ads for a replacement.  On May 2, 1899, for instance, he advertised, "Dentist; good all-around man; short hours," and on August 6, 1901 sought, "Dentist--All-around dentist; short hours, well paid."

A tenant in the upper portion of the building gave a glimpse into the neighborhood in her letter to the editor of the New York Evening Journal in January 1898:

There is a family residing at No. 168 Ridge street that are in dire distress--a father, mother and seven children, and an old grandmother.  I did, and do, all I can for them, but I have my own people to look after.  Knowing what you do for the poor, I thought I would ask you to help them a little.

            Mary De Gamo, No. 247 East Houston street, New York

The Goodwin family rented rooms here in 1902.  The Evening World described their 12-year-old son, Henry, as a "venturesome youth."  Henry was celebrating New Year's Eve when he saw an automobile with well-dressed partiers break down at Houston and Essex Streets.  Despite the crowd on the sidewalks, while repairs were being made to the car, Henry "snatched a chatelaine bag Miss [May] Lewis wore and slashed at Miss Lewis's hand with a long knife."  The Sun explained, "Miss Lewis wore diamond rings.  Apparently the boy tried to cut off the ring finger on her hand."

May Lewis's finger was deeply slashed.  "The boy gave the hand a yank and then, when he failed to get the rings, ran off."  A policeman quickly caught and arrested Henry.  The Sun reported, "The whole automobile party went to the station."  The article said that while she was making the complaint, "Miss Lewis's hand was bleeding so profusely that she became faint."

In 1906, John Roesch updated the house.  He hired architect O. Reissmann to install plumbing (including toilets) and to replace windows.  The renovations cost him $500, or about $18,000 today.

With Morris Schwartz's dental office gone, the basement level became the Fly Leaf Social Club.  On December 1, 1913, The New York Call reported on illegal Manhattan gambling houses.  "Dollar John" Langer ran an operation at 248 East Houston Street and was implicated in the murder case of bookmaker Herman Rosenthal in 1912.  The article said, "Last week Deputy Commissioner Newburger raided a place across the street, at 247 East Houston street, just to convince Dollar John that the police were not joking with him."

Gangster Abraham "Little Doggie" Ginsberg lived here in the early 1920's.  In May 1923, his brother Henry, was arrested for stabbing Abraham Aadbaum.  Abe Ginsberg appeared at the courthouse for his arraignment on May 21 and got into a fistfight with Aadbaum supporters on the sidewalk.  After the arraignment, according to The New York Times, "Court had been hardly cleared...when there came sounds of another scuffle outside the building.  When the combatants, Abraham Ginsberg and Albert Aaronson, once more had been separated it was found that one of Ginsberg's eyes was badly injured."  Ginsberg was jailed for three days.

In May 1926, the Fly Leaf Social Club was raided and 18 men were arrested for illegal gambling.  Surprisingly, Magistrate Weil condemned the police officers rather than the patrons.  He said, "This is outrageous.  What right have the police to invade an old-established club and harass law abiding men?"  The patrons were released.

Among the groups that used the Fly Leaf Social Club space for their meetings during the early Depression years was the Downtown Local of the Alteration Painters Union.  They would soon have to find new accommodations.  In 1936 an alteration merged 247 East Houston Street with the corner building.  The ground floor became the showroom and office of Steinberg & Dubin monuments.

Steinberg & Dubin installed a massive blade sign on the facade and removed the cornices of both buildings.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

While the monument showroom remained at street level, a renovation in 1964 resulted in apartments on the upper floors.  

The Steinberg & Dubin showroom had its few moments of fame in 2007.  A chase scene within the episode "There's No 'We' Anymore" of The Naked City television series took place among the headstones.

photograph by Carole Teller

The scene could not have been filmed a few months later.  A large sign attached to the facade that September read, "Coming Soon.  Remedy Diner."  After decades of displaying tombstones, the space was renovated with a pseudo-Art Deco storefront.  Remedy Diner remains in the space.

non-credited photographs by the author

many thanks to Carole Teller for suggesting this post

The Isaac F. Fisher House - 249 East Houston Street

 

In the 18th century, North Street ran east-west through the lowest section of the former Petrus Stuyvesant farms.  (The street, named because it designated the northern boundary of the city, would later be renamed East Houston Street.)  The Stuyvesant heirs retained vast portions of the property as the city moved northward, encroaching into and developing their formerly verdant land.

Thomas Macfarlan was Peter Gerard Stuyvesant's long-term real estate manager.  On February 19, 1861, he advertised in the New York Herald: "To Let--The House No. 249 East Houston street.  Apply to Thos. Macfarlan, No. 180 Tenth street, near Third avenue."  Frustratingly, his succinct ad gave no details about the residence. 

No. 249 East Houston Street was 18-feet wide and one of a row of Federal-style residences.  Most likely all identical, they were faced in Flemish bond brick and rose three stories above English basements.  

Isaac F. Fisher (sometimes spelled Fischer) and his wife, Jettie, moved into the house with their son, Henry.  Fisher was most likely well-acquainted with Thomas Macfarlan, since he, too, was a real estate agent.

Young Henry enrolled in Columbia College in 1865.  His father operated his substantial real estate business from the house.  On June 7, 1866, for instance, he advertised, "For Sale--A nice property on a corner of the west side of Avenue A, being 52 feet front on the avenue by 100, with four good houses on it, having seven stores paying over 15 per cent and sold on easy terms."  The following February, in a single ad he offered, five "first class tenement houses," "four houses and lots," and "two houses on the west side of Eighth avenue; and nine houses on Third avenue."

Jettie Fisher died in the house on February 17, 1872 at the age of 46.  Her funeral was held in the parlor the next morning.  Before the end of the year, Isaac F. Fisher had moved away.

The house was purchased by a Mrs. Sheppard, who was cited for a violation from the city for having "unsafe chimneys" on September 27, 1873.  

Around 1882, the basement was converted for business purposes.  Harris and Caroline Baruch moved into rooms upstairs and Harris leased the shop for his pawn business.  Living with them was their son Benjamin Baruch, who would eventually join the business.

As with all pawn shops, Baruch regularly held auctions of items left past their due date.  On November 23, 1883, for instance, he held an auction that included, "1,000 lots fine gold and silver watches, diamonds, heavy gold chains, bracelets, jewelry."

In May 1893, Joseph Wolf (sometimes spelled Wolff) purchased the building for $12,400 (about $446,000 in 2025 terms).  He continued to lease the store to Harris Baruch, whose family remained in the upper portion.  

On April 14, 1895, The World titled an article, "Made Rich By The Poor."  It detailed an independent investigation of pawn shops that overcharged customers.  The lengthy article listed numerous infractions, including: "A young man took a banjo to H. Baruch, of No. 249 East Houston street, and was overcharged 12 cents."

At the time of the article, Caroline Baruch's health was declining.  She died here on February 23, 1895 at the age of 64.  Her active involvement in Jewish organizations was evidenced in her death notice in the New York Herald, which invited "members of the Daughters of Israel, of Cheebra Holche Zedek, of Joseph Lodge, K. S. B., and of Congregation Bnee Scholom" to her funeral.

A striking renovation would give the entrance a Renaissance inspired door frame.

In 1898, Benjamin Baruch was appointed a commissioner of deeds, a clerical civil service position.  The following year, his father was pulled into a sensational murder case.

In August 1899, Mrs. Nathan Kronman was murdered in her apartment at 266 West 35th Street.  Another resident passed the murderer, a "man in black," in the hallway which she described as "being swarthy and wearing a suit of dark clothes."  Police searched the pawn shops for the jewelry stolen from Mrs. Kronman's apartment.  They found one piece--an expensive diamond crescent-shaped brooch--at Harris Baruch's store.

Baruch was called to testify at William Neufeldt's trial on August 17.  He said in part:

It was coming in, two men in the afternoon, and one of those men handed me this pin and asked me $200 on it.  I make him an offer of $185.  I saw the defendant there.  That is the man that gave me the pin [indicating the defendant].  But there was two men.  One man took the $100 and the other man took the $85.

Baruch positively identified William Neufeldt as the man who handed him the pin.

The estate of Joseph Wolf sold the property to Max Schwartz around 1900.  In June 1901, Schwartz hired architect M. Bernstein to remodel the building.  Bernstein gave the vintage structure a Renaissance Revival makeover.  

Now termed a "tenement" by the Department of Buildings, it was given a veneer of running bond brick and boasted a handsome carved entrance enframement below a foliate-bracketed cornice.  The parlor and second floor openings were given splayed stone lintels with carved keystones, while the fully arched third floor windows wore brick eyebrows.  A cast metal cornice completed the re-do.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Harris had moved his family and his business, now known as H. Baruch & Son, before the renovations began.  The basement was leased for the S. & H. Levin restaurant.  In December 1912, dentist Abraham Pflantzer leased the "stoop floor" (the former parlor level).  His office would remain there for decades.

When America entered World War I, two of the residents of 249 East Houston Street, Nathan Messinger and Jack Herschkowitz, joined the army.

Jack was the son of Samuel Herschkowitz.  It appears that his mother was deceased at the time.  A member of Company C of the 308th Infantry, his battalion was near Binarville, France in September 1918.  Cut off from communication and needing ammunition and rations, he, an officer and another soldier set off for regimental headquarters.  In the dark of night they unwittingly crawled into a German camp.  They lay there three hours before being detected.  The 1919 Heroes All recounts:

Finally discovered, they made a dash to escape.  In order to protect the officer, Private Herschkowitz deliberately drew the enemy fire to himself, allowing the officer to escape.  Private Herschkowitz succeeded in getting through and delivering his message the next morning.

Jack Herschkowitz was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor "for extraordinary heroism in action."

Nathan Messinger survived the war, as well.  The 23-year-old returned to 249 East Houston Street with the rank of second lieutenant.

Prohibition ushered in an era of gangsters and violence.  On October 18, 1935, The New York Post headlined an article, "5th Gangster Is Shot Down In Policy War" and announced, "One of the underworld's bloodiest, boldest wars is on."  In reporting on the murders, it noted, "Death was to have been the lot of The Plug last night also as he stood in front of a three-story tenement at 249 East Houston Street on the lower East Side, but his assassins only wounded him."

Albert "The Plug" Schuman had an appointment with dentist Abraham Pflantzer and was climbing the stoop of 249 East Houston Street when he was attacked.  The New York Evening Post reported, "he scampered into a hallway, where he fell, groaning, a moment later."  The gangster was taken to Bellevue Hospital where he recovered.

The 21st century brought trendy bistros and shops to the neighborhood.  In 2016, the Chapter NY art gallery opened in the "stoop floor" that had been home to Dr. Pflantzer's office for decades.  There are four apartments in the building today.

many thanks to Carole Teller for suggesting this post.

photographs by the author

The Much-Altered Wm. V. Webster House - 251 East Houston Street

 

photograph by Carole Teller

North Street was so named because it marked the northern boundary of New York City in the 18th century.  Development reached this far north by the 1820s, when smart, brick-faced homes and shops began lining its sides.  By 1808, Nicholas Bayard III had cut a road through his property to the west which he called Houstoun Street.  It was named for his daughter's husband, William Houstoun, who married Mary Bayard in 1788.  Later, he extended Houstoun Street (later corrupted to Houston Street) to meet North Street, which became East Houston Street.

Typical of the houses on the block between Norfolk and Suffolk Streets was 251 East Houston Street, described in The New York Times later, as a "2-story and attic and under-cellar Brick house and lot."  Eighteen-feet-wide, it was faced in Flemish bond red brick.  Its Federal design included an arched entrance above a short stoop, stepped paneled lintels, and one or two dormers.  

By the mid-1850s, William V. and Julia Webster occupied the house.  William was listed as a clerk, a term that ranged from an office worker to a highly responsible and well-paid financial position.  Beginning around 1860, the couple shared their home with George Marshall and his family.  The house became a bit more crowded when a young couple, William H. and Susan Dukes, moved in.  The Websters were surely well acquainted with Susan.  She had lived next door with her widowed mother, Sarah Ann Vanderbeck.  Sarah died there on November 12, 1862 at the age of 51.  It was most likely shortly afterward that the Dukes moved into No. 251.

The year 1863 was significant for all three families.  On April 30, Susan Dukes died here at the age of 23.  Her funeral was held in the parlor.  On August 25, R. Marshall was drafted into the Union Army, and on September 10 Julia Webster died at the age of 86.  The house was offered for sale that year.  The advertisement noted that "gas and Croton water" had been introduced, a significant upgrade.

Isabella White, the widow of Thomas White, and John C. Devoe and his family shared the house at least through 1865.  By 1867, it was home to the Alexander D. Farrell family.  Farrell and his wife, the former Mary A. Hendricksen, had a son, Alexander Washington Farrell, born in 1848.

Farrell operated Alexander D. Farrell & Co., a mattress firm, on 283 Canal Street.  The younger Alexander is listed in 1868 as being in the hardware business (he was 20 years old at the time).

The social and financial status of the Farrells was reflected in an advertisement in the New York Herald on March 24, 1868:

251 East Houston St.--[Needed] A Competent girl to do plain cooking, washing and ironing.

In more affluent households, those job descriptions would have been clearly defined.  To ask the cook in a wealthy family to do laundry would have been highly insulting and grounds for leaving.

The Farrells left 251 East Houston Street in 1871.  Their former home became a boarding house.  Its residents the following year were highly varied.  Mary E. Everett worked as a binder, William Glaser was a clerk in the Custom House, Moritz Selig was listed as a "pedlar," Andrew Senges was a machinist, and George Walker was a clerk.

Around 1873, the basement level was converted for business.  Herman Hirschfield, who lived nearby at 257 East Houston Street, ran his shoe shop here.  That year he advertised, "Wanted--A female operator, American, on ladies' shoes; Howe's machine; must understand fitting."

Change came in 1879 when the Virginia Day Nursery moved into "a few rooms" on the lower floors.  Founded in February that year, it was run by the City Mission.  The facility took in children under six years old whose mothers needed to work during the day.  The toddlers were taken care of for "a nominal charge of 5 to 10 cents a day," according to the Directory to the Charitable and Beneficent Societies and Institutions of the City of New York in 1883.  The most expensive charge would translate to about $3.25 in 2025.

The Virginia Day Nursery moved to 632 East 5th Street in 1886.  It continued to grow and in 1894, Mrs. A. M. Dodge described the Virginia Day Nursery in the Handbook of Sociological Information saying, in part, "The total of number of children cared for in the past three months was seven thousand." 

In the meantime, a permit was issued in 1886 to conduct the upper floors of 251 East Houston Street as a lodging house.  Lodging houses were the lowest form of accommodations, after boarding and rooming houses.  Their transient residents paid on a nightly basis and received no other services.

The former nursery space was converted to a meeting space, Mayer's Hall.  On August 17, 1888, for instance, the New York Herald reported, "At No. 251 East Houston street yesterday evening the James Munroe [sic] Club, of the Tenth Assembly district, organized as a Cleveland campaign club."  The Evening World added that at the, "overflow meeting of the James Monroe Independent Citizens' Association...Mr. Julius Harburger delivered an address, showing the benefits to be derived by the people in another term of Democratic rule with Cleveland and Thurman."

Construction worker Jacob Schwenk was renting a room here on September 26, 1888.  He was working on a new building on Willet Street that day when three men "annoyed" him," as described by The Evening World.  "He picked up a stone and threw it," said the article.  Tragically, it missed the men and struck and seriously injured five-year-old Benjamin Frinz.  Schwenk was arrested for the incident.

In April 1894, apparel trimmings merchant and parttime real estate operator Max Schwartz purchased the building.  He and his wife (who was highly involved in the Ladies' Hungarian Aid Society) moved in, and he converted Mayer's Hall to a saloon-restaurant.  

Policeman Conrad Schillenberger was indicted on October 26, 1894 "for assaulting Thomas J. Stanton" on August 8, as reported by The Sun.  The officer's bail was fixed at $2,000 and he offered "as bondsman Max Schwartz, a liquor dealer, of 251 East Houston street," said the article.  "Schwartz was not considered satisfactory for some reason which was not given," reported The Sun and Schillenberger remained in jail.

In March 1897, Schwartz hired architect Louis F. Heinecke to remodel the interiors and to raise the attic to a full floor.  The renovations cost Schwartz the equivalent of $78,000 today.  Heinecke matched the proportions of the second-floor openings and gave them cast metal cornices.  The bracketed terminal cornice was crowned with a triangular pediment.  

In 1941, the first floor wore a veneer of marble to accommodate a synagogue.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Among the tenants in 1897 were the Smith and Miller families.  A year earlier, gold had been discovered in the Yukon Territory in Canada, sparking the Klondike Gold Rush.  Thousands of prospectors flooded into the territory.  Among those hoping to find their fortunes were 17-year-old William Miller and 19-year-old John Smith.  On July 27, they and two other stalwart adventurers--brothers John and Robert Thomas, 18 and 17 years old respectively--struck out.  They did not get far.

At 4:00 the following morning, Patrolman Glock, "picked up four boys, who were drenched to the skin and shivering from the cold, on the Newark Plank Road near Glendale Woods," reported the Jersey City News.  The would-be prospectors were taken to the station house where they were warmed and dried out.  The article said, "They had among the four of them $2.06, a razor and two pocket knives."

Max Schwartz brought back Louis F. Heinecke in November 1899 to make minor renovations.  They most likely had to do with the converting of the former saloon space to a cleaning establishment.

Around midnight on March 28, 1904, burglars broke into the Metropolitan Cleaning and Dyeing Company space.  They dragged the safe to the rear of the store and drilled "an eight-inch hole in the inner metal wall," as described by The New York Times.  They extracted the $65 in cash and started work on the inner compartment when Max Schwartz, who had been wakened by the noise, banged on the door.  "The burglars got out by a rear window and ran away," said the article.  Happily for the cleaner's manager, named Bruckner, Schwartz had arrived just in time.  Bruckner had put his wife's $1,000 worth of diamonds in the inner compartment.

Max Schwartz retained possession of 251 East Houston Street at least through 1921.  Shortly afterward, the basement and parlor floors became home to the Hellman Funeral Chapel, run by Moe Hellman and his wife, Bertha.  It was likely during this renovation that the parlor windows were replaced with three arched openings.

A funeral that captivated the public's attention was that of Police Officer Edward Winger, who was fatally shot at the corner of Rivington and Norfolk Streets on July 18, 1929.  During his funeral two days later, undercover officers surveyed the "crowd of sightseers" on the street, said The New York Times, who were "seeking Winger's murderer mingled with the mourners."

What could have been a tragic and macabre incident was averted by one of the Hellmans' quick-thinking hearse drivers on October 15, 1933.  A New York City resident died in Saratoga, New York and Harry Pomper drove there to bring the body back to the Hellman Funeral Chapel.  He was on the Bronx River Road at around 6 a.m. when the carburetor "sputtered."  Pomper said, "flames suddenly shot out from beneath the hood."  He pulled over, removed the corpse and pulled a nearby fire alarm.  Four fire engine companies responded.  "After repairs were made, the hearse continued its trip to New York City," said the Yonkers Herald Statesman.  The fire caused $75 of damage to the vehicle.

The Hellman Funeral Chapel was replaced by the East Side Branch of the Socialist Workers' Party headquarters in the late 1940s.  Then a renovation in 1949 resulted in a synagogue in the basement and former parlor floors, two apartments on the second floor and one on the third.  

 

On July 15, 1988, Newsday reported that Cafe Bustelo, "recently moved from Avenue B in the East Village to a former synagogue at 251 E. Houston St. on the Lower East Side."  The article said it "features stream-of-consciousness monologues, post-punk folk musicians and a 'preponderance of poets.'"  

NOoSphere Gallery, a "nonprofit storefront," as described by The New York Times, opened in 2011 "as a showcase for Norwegian artists."  It was replaced by Gaia Italian Cafe, which recently closed.

photograph by the author

The original stoop has been replaced by a metal version and a stucco-like material covers the first floor facade, which now has a show window.  At some point the metal cornices of the second floor windows were removed, revealing the forms of the Federal lintels.  Two Stars of David remain on the facade as relics of the synagogue period of the venerable structure.

many thanks to Carole Teller for prompting this post

McKim, Mead & White's 1893 Cable Building - Broadway and Houston Street

photograph by Beyond My Ken

The rapid-fire development in the decades following the Civil War opened new neighborhoods to the east and west of Central Park.   The various street car companies rushed to add tracks and expand their services.  But with extended routes and more cars there came a problem.   The horses were often overworked and stifling summer heat took its toll.  One passenger wrote that the trip from Manhattan to Harlem could take an hour and twenty minutes providing that “no horse balked or fell dead across the tracks.”

The Chicago City Railroad Company found a solution to the problem when it opened its cable traction system in January 1882.   New York City firms took notice, among them the Broadway Cable Railroad Co., which joined other street railroad companies in converting from horse to cable power.

It was no small process, and in addition to the laying of miles of cable was the erection of facilities to power the system and pull the streetcars.   John D. Crimmins, a director in the Broadway Cable Railroad, Co. remarked on the grueling process during an on October 21, 1892.  He was interviewed by George Alfred Townsend "about the cable railroad system which he has been so largely instrumental in constructing on Broadway," as reported in the Record & Guide.  

"When will the Broadway Cable railroad be opened?" he was asked.

"I think not before December next.  It is the hardest job of the kind that has been done in this country."

The laying of the cable was especially difficult at corners and turns.  The "shive pit" at the corner of Houston Street and Broadway alone was 20-feet deep.  It was at this intersection that the company's massive headquarters building, sitting atop its powerhouse, was already rising.

The neighborhood had been among Manhattan's most exclusive residential districts in the 1830s.  No. 621 Broadway, for instance, had long been the home of Gerard Stuyvesant, son of Nicholas Stuyvesant and nephew of Peter Gerard Stuyvesant.  He fought commercial encroachment until his death in 1859.

But now Broadway was lined not with two- and three-story brick houses, but modern lofts and stores.  The Broadway Cable Railroad Co. had commissioned McKim, Mead & White to design its new structure, which would be given the obvious name The Cable Building.   The plot engulfed much of the block with 127.6 feet fronting Broadway, 200 feet along Houston Street, and another 128.8 feet on Mercer Street.   It would take nearly three years to complete construction.

The architects faced the challenge of housing mammoth equipment below ground--the four wheels pulling the steel cables were 32-feet in diameter--without disturbing the commercial and business tenants above.  The New York Times explained the solution:  "The foundations are entirely distinct and separate from those of the power room, containing the engines and machinery of the cable railway. As a consequent, not the slightest tremor or vibration can be felt in any part of the building."

Completed in September 1893, the Cable Building rose eight floors above street level.  A two-story limestone base supported beige brick embellished with Beaux Arts terra cotta decorations.  The tripartite design featured regimented arches at each of the three levels.  A chamfered corner at Broadway and Houston Street provided additional sunlight to the upper floors and allowed for an extra shop window at sidewalk level.

The arched motif ended, for some reason, abruptly above the Broadway entrance portico. The architects made certain to include Broadway Cable Railroad Co. cablecars in their rendering.  Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, November 12, 1892 (copyright expired)

On December 19, 1893 The New York Times wrote "The massive appearance of the structure is relieved by the graceful sweep of its broad arches, the tasteful ornamentation of caps and bases of piers, the mullions, the pillared entrance, and the magnificent cornice, which gives a sightly sky line."

The "pillared entrance" pointed out by the article was enhanced by 11-foot high bas reliefs of two classically-clad women on either side of a round opening containing a clock.  They were executed by sculptor J. Massey Rhind.

The striking entrance was featured in The American Architect and Building News on June 16, 1894 (copyright expired)

The offices and factories within the building received natural light not only from the exposed three sides; but from a 3,000 square foot interior light court.   Tenants could get from one side of the building to another by using the "glass-enclosed galleries" on each floor that straddled the light court.  

There were two passenger elevators and two freight elevators.  The freight entrance was on Mercer Street and the architects prevented the possibility of trucks jamming the street by included a "delivery room."   "Here trucks can drive in and load and unload under cover on a platform alongside the elevators," explained The Times.

The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide called the structure "magnificent" and said "its architecture expresses distinctly the highest achievement of the art in this country at this time."  

The Broadway Cable Railroad Co., which became the Metropolitan Traction Co. a year later, took up most of the eighth floor, along with its related companies.  The entire ground floor retail space was taken by William Vogel & Son.    Until now the firm had limited itself to manufacturing men's and boys' clothing for other retailers in its factory at No. 10 White Street .  Now it opened its own massive retail store.

The Evening World, September 20, 1893 (copyright expired)

On September 17, 1893 The New York Times remarked on the imposing new emporium.  “If the spacious ceiling were of a blue tint, its 1,200 electric lights would make it look like a couple of acres of the firmament dragged down and anchored in Broadway for the special benefit of William Vogel & Son’s imposing enterprise.”  

On April 17, 1895 The Evening World (no doubt prompted by a monetary inducement) offered a glowing review.  "Every man who wears substantial, stylish clothes and furnishing goods should visit the great store of William Vogel & Son, 611 to 621 Broadway...This firm manufactures its stock, and every garment is tested and sold at reasonable prices."

The article pointed out the sporting apparel.  "Wheelmen may find bicycle suits here in many styles, including the League pattern, and breeches in the bloomer and golf patterns, made of twills, chevlots and fancy tweeds.  Such 50-cent pretty neckwear is seldom seen in a Broadway house for the same money."

The upper floors filled with a wide variety of tenants, including architect Louis Korn; the building materials dealers Livingston & Nesbit; J. L. Walker & Co., makers of neckwear; the Pacific Rubber Company; real estate operators Lalor & Beringer; Knickerbocker Silver Company; the Royal American Enamel Company; and D. M. Schoenfeld, jewelry, among many others.

Less than three years after its opening, a fire broke out on the third floor of the Cable Building at about 6:00 on the evening of April 22, 1896.  The building was still heavily occupied.  Despite its fireproof design, The New York Time reported "It burned rapidly, and soon spread through three offices.

In the panic that ensued, there was a shocking absence of manly gallantry.  "There was a general rush for the elevators by those still in the building," reported the newspaper, "and it was reported that the men in their anxiety to reach the street crowded out the women, who took to the freight elevators."

While businessmen rushed to safety, the wife of the janitor, Mrs. Charles Kammerer, took control of a freight elevator.  She "did not hesitate to return to the floors above after carrying down the first lot of passengers."

The building suffered $5,000 damage (about $147,000 today); while the total loss to tenants, much of it from water damage, was about $20,000.

The Cable Building was the scene of tragedy on January 16, 1897.   Charles Rothchild had worked for the cloak manufacturer Benjamin & Caspary until 1896 when he struck out on his own.  His timing was bad, however.   The country was still suffering the effects of the Financial Panic of 1893 and, according to The New York Times on January 17, 1897, "The season...was disastrous, and, after spending most of his savings, Rothchild gave up the business three weeks ago."

When he left his Brooklyn home that morning he was despondent and his wife, fearing the worst, followed him to the Cable Building.

The Times reported "Just before 10:30 o'clock, Edward Lynch, an employe[e] of the Metropolitan Traction Company, was looking into the lightshaft from the east side, when he saw Rothchild at the western window.  The man cast aside his black derby and then looked down the shaft."  Lynch next noticed him on one of the shaft bridges.  "Rothschild raised the window, and, without looking out, jumped through the opening.  Lynch cried out.  Many persons who have offices abutting the shaft were attracted by the yells of Lynch, and saw Rothchild falling."

Among those who heard the screams was Mrs. Rothchild.  Running to the hallway she exclaimed "It is my husband!" and tried to reach a window.  She was held back by several tenants, one of which tried to convince her it was a "Mr. Smith," not her husband.  She broke away and saw her dead husband on the pavement below.

"She became violently hysterical, and finally started to climb out of the window to kill herself," said The Times.  She was subdued by tenants and taken to St. Vincent's Hospital.

In November that year a one-room office was leased to Charles G. Willoughby.  While growing up on a farm he had become fascinated with cameras.   Now he tried his hand at selling cameras and related products.  While he did well from the start, he became among the first to offer roll film, which was replacing the difficult glass plates.  It turned Willoughby's adequately-successful business into a booming enterprise.  It quickly outgrew the one-room operation in the Cable Building and by mid-century was among the largest camera dealers in America.

Just eight years after the building was completed, the cable car system for which it was erected was obsolete.  On May 25, 1901 the last of Metropolitan Railway Company's cables was taken up.   The Times reported "Nearly a thousand of the Metropolitan Street Railway Company's men last night removed the cable from Broadway to prepare for the installation of electricity on that thoroughfare."

Old street car men watched the process with nostalgia.  "When the end was passing by them over the wheels fully twenty of them clustered about that spot touched, each in turn, the departing steel rope, with the audible: 'Good-bye, cable.'"

The Art Metal Works was producing decorative home items here in 1906  Notions and Fancy Goods, January 1907 (copyright expired)

The building continued to be home to a variety of firms.  Among the tenants in 1906 were A. F. O'Connor, "atomizers and toilet novelties;" paper dealers White & Wickhoff Mfg. Co.; and the the Kelsey-Herbert Company, makers of "toilet mirrors and French stag ware."

Notions and Fancy Goods, July 1907 (copyright expired)

Little by little more millinery firms moved into the Cable Building, including the Florence Hat Company, headed by Jonas F. Durlacher.   He and his wife were delighted when his daughter, Adah, caught the eye of a double-titled French nobleman, the Marquis de Fauconcourt and Count d'Ollone.  The Times reported that he explained to Adah "he had inherited the titles of Marquis and Count, an that he had much wealth."

The couple was on their honeymoon in Atlantic City on November 3, 1909 when a telegram arrived at The New York Times Paris office.  A suspicious reporter had been digging into the Count's story.  The cable came from the Vicomte d'Ollone who said flatly that the bridegroom was an imposter.

With a copy of the message in hand, a reporter rushed to the Durlacher house in Brooklyn.  Jonas Durlacher was offended, saying "I don't believe a word of it" and insisted that his new son-in-law had produced passports to prove his pedigree.  "When he asked me for permission to marry my daughter a few weeks ago I told him that I would not consent to it unless he proved beyond doubt that he was all that he represented himself to be.  You see, I did not propose to have any bogus titles going into my family."

Durlacher marched to the telephone and demanded that the couple return to Brooklyn.   When they arrived the following day the Count responded "Preposterous!" to the accusations.

But later, in private, Henry Marie Gustave d'Ollone was forced to admit he had made up the story.  Although shocked and humiliated, Adah told reporters "that she still dearly loved her husband, and would not think of giving him up.  She had married him for love, she said, and not for titles or money."

The revelation caused problems for her father, however.   On October 20 Durlacher had been arrested on larceny charges.  Walter Schmidt of the Weideler Feather Company accused him of getting money "under false pretenses."  The Times reported "Mr. Durlacher publicly stated in police court that if Mr. Schmidt would not press the charge he would soon have plenty of money to pay, as his daughter was about to marry a wealthy French nobleman."

The day after d'Ollone's confession Durlacher was back in jail, held on $1,000 bail.

In 1926 Joseph Ruff ran his merchandising export business, Joseph Ruff & Co. from the Cable Building.  He was married to the daughter of the well-known merchant Jacob Rosenthal.  When Ruff went to Mexico City on August 23 that year, his father-in-law came along.

Rose Ruff received a frightening telegram on September 13 from her husband that read "Pappa kidnapped.  No danger.  Expect release today."  

On Sunday, September 12 Rosenthal, Ruff, and two friends, Mr. and Mrs. Jack Zahler, were in an automobile, traveling from Cuernavaca to Mexico City, when it was overtaken by bandits.  Everyone but Rosenthall was released.  Ruff waited nervously in his hotel room for three days before a letter arrived, demanding that 20,000 pesos be delivered by horseback to a spot on the road near where Rosenthal had been kidnapped.

Ruff told officials at the American Embassy and the local police, and asked permission to delivery the ransom.  But the Mexican authorities refused and sent two under-cover soldiers in hopes of capturing the gang.  It was a fatal move.

On September 15 the bandits recognized the approaching men as troops.  Not wanting to be captured with their hostage, they brutally murdered the elderly American with machetes.

A year later, almost to the day, Joseph Ruff died in his Woodmere, Long Island home.  The Times noted "Mr. Ruff was much shaken by the experience [of Rosenthal's murder], but his family said last night that his death was due to other causes."

In 1929 17-year old Helen Protovin initiated a surprisingly early example of sexual harassment charges against Henry Kahn.  The 41-year old was a resident buyer with offices in the Cable Building.  She went to his office in February answering a want-ad for a stenographer.  She was hired on the spot; but the next day "he made improper advances to her."  The teen rushed out and went to the police.  Kahn was arrested for disorderly conduct.

Although by now the greatest percentage of tenants were in the millinery business, there were at least two publishers here.  Fairchild Publishing had moved in around the turn of the century.  The publisher of journals related to the apparel, textile and home furnishings industries, its Women's Wear Daily, Daily News Record and The Retailing Daily became essential within the industries, and remain so into the 21st century.

The International Confectioner, founded by T. F. Harvey, was a trade journal for the candy and baking industries.  It remained in the Cable Building for decades, until Harvey's son, George U. Harvey, was forced to sell in June 1931.

By the Depression years the building had sprouted fire escapes.  photo from the collection of the New York Public Library

Things were hard for the owners of the Cable Building, as well, at the time.  On January 12, 1930 The New York Times had reported "The eight-story commercial structure known as the Cable Building...will be sold at foreclosure proceedings on Jan. 30."

In the 1930s the United States saw a rise in Socialist and Communist organizations; one which sparked a backlash by conservative citizens.  On September 1937 a newly formed group, the Knights of Progress, opened its headquarters in the Cable Building,

Lewis B. Smith, the head of the group, said it was "dedicated to Americanism" and intended to combat "any subversive activities, schemes or plans aimed at the sanctity and security of these United States of America."   Among those targeted was President Franklin D. Roosevelt.   In reporting on the opening of the headquarters on September 14, 1937, The New York Times wrote "Assailing the Communists in particular, Mr. Smith asserted that his organization would "definitely show a direct tie-up between the Communist party and the present New Deal Administration."

The change in the Noho neighborhood in the last half of the 20th century was perhaps best exemplified when the cavernous former machine rooms below ground were converted to the Angelika Film Center in 1989.   Indicative of the trendy new neighborhood, the theater continues to screen independent and foreign films.

The ambitious 1893 copper cornice, somewhat surprisingly, survives.  photograph by the author

The McKim, Mead & White structure survives nearly intact--an imposing presence on the Broadway and Houston Street corner after 125 years.

many thanks to reader Peter Alsen for suggesting this post.

The Vladimir Lenin Statue -- 250 East Houston Street

In the 1980s Soviet sculptor Yuri Gerasimov received what must have been a gratifying commission—the order for larger-than-life bronze statue of Vladimir Ilyich Lenin from the USSR Government.  A personality cult had been built around Lenin—one that depicted him as the champion of the working people.   It was a portrait that ignored his dictatorship and human rights abuses.  The memorial statue would depict Lenin as a triumphant yet charismatic leader.

Exactly where Yuri Gerasimov came from and what he had accomplished is unclear.  An obviously accomplished artist, there is little (or no) record of his other works.  Nevertheless, as the decade drew to a close, his 18-foot statue was cast.   Gerasimov’s Lenin stood slightly astride, his left foot a step behind his right.  Staring out at an invisible throng, his left arm hung to his side, its fist tightly clenched.  His right arm stretched into the air, the hand opened in a gesture of greeting.

But the impressive statue would never be unveiled; it would never be put in place.  At 7:32 p.m. on the evening of December 26, 1991 the Soviet flag was lowered for the last time in Red Square.  The Soviet Union had collapsed.

Across the former U.S.S.R. citizens of its now-independent countries attacked their Lenin monuments and statues.  In the Ukraine alone, more than 100 statues to the leader were destroyed.  Gerasmiov’s work was removed to a country home—or dacha—where it was placed in the rear yard.

In the meantime, former New York University sociology professor Michael Rosen and his partner, Michael Shaoul, were embarking on a real estate project in Manhattan’s East Village.   In 1989, about the time the Lenin statue was headed to the foundry, they began construction on an upscale apartment building at No. 250 Houston Street, between Avenues A. and B.

The historic neighborhood had undergone a variety of incarnations in 400 years.  In the early 17^th century it was undeveloped and rural, sitting less than a mile south of Peter Stuyvesant’s 62-acre “farm,” or Bouwerie.   In the 1820s and ‘30s Federal-style brick homes appeared along the newly-cut streets; and by the end of that century tenement buildings were crowded with immigrant families.  The East Village became the icon of the 20^th century Beatnik movement; later becoming the center of Manhattan’s counterculture—the birthplace of punk rock and the Nuyorican literary movement.

Rosen and Shaoul’s blocky red brick building was dubbed Red Square as a comment on the changing political conditions in Eastern Europe.  They intended their apartment house to be, in keeping with the neighborhood, just a bit quirky while reflecting the artistic East Village tone.   Completed in 1991, the 13-story building included a sculpture by Johnny Swing, sidewalk patterns executed by Ken Hatsukara, and sculptural lobby panels by Julie Dermansky.  Hiding the water tower was a large clock with its numbers out of order.  A huge, functional work of art, it is based on the 1984 watch by Tibor Kalman, founder of M&Co, in the collection of the Museum of Modern Art.

But Rosen had one other detail in mind.  He wanted a statue of Vladimir Lenin for Red Square’s rooftop.   When the art firm of WUM, with locations in both Manhattan and Russia, approached him regarding an investment, he included the condition of acquiring a Lenin statue.  And they did.

The three partners located the Gerasimov statue in the dacha yard.   The bronze Lenin was brought to New York and installed on the top of Red Square.  In what could be purposeful symbolism, the former leader of the Communist state looks to the south, his arm hailing Wall Street, the symbol of Capitalism.

Viewed from East Houston Street, Lenin seems to be waving to the pedestrians.

In a city of hundreds of monuments, fountains and statues, the figure of Vladimir Lenin in the East Village could be the least expected.

photographs by the author