The James Condie Drugstore Building - 166 Eighth Avenue

 

Around 1844, a brick-faced house and store was erected at 166 Eighth Avenue between 18th and 19th Streets.  Three stories tall, its Greek Revival design included a single-doored residential entrance flanked by pilasters and four-paned sidelights.  A commodious transom allowed natural light into the foyer.  The building's six-over-six-paned windows sat upon plain brownstone sills and wore understated stone lintels.

Archibald Donnelly operated a tavern here in 1845, but his venture was short lived.  As early as 1848 James Condie and his family lived in the upper floors.  He was a partner in the Gabaudan & Condie apothecary that now occupied the store.

The drugstore was a vehicle for an enterprising chemist in September 1848.  His ads appeared throughout the Northeast saying:

Messrs. Gabaudan & Condie, Druggists, No. 166 Eighth Avenue, state that this past summer they sold Mr. Lawrence, a Police Officer, six bottles of Dr. Roger's Liverwort and Tar.  His wife afterwards called upon them, and said that her husband had been, for some time time, lying very low with Consumption, and that the Physician and their friends had despaired of his recovery; but by the use of the above six bottles, he was restored to perfect health.  She says she has no doubt but that it was the above Medicine alone which cured him.

James Condie was born in Perthshire, Scotland.  Both he and his wife, the former Sarah Ellen Harrison, were born in 1820.  In addition to running the drugstore, he volunteered as a "laddie" at Laurel Hose Company, No. 30 on West 27th Street.  Five children would be born in the Eighth Avenue house--Sarah Ellen in 1849, Mary Catherine in 1854, Ellen Condie two years later, Samuel Harrison in 1859, and Ella Grace in 1862.

As was common, the Condies rented a room in their home.  In 1851 Jane E. Percy lived here.  She was a teacher in Colored Primary School No. 3 on West 15th Street.  The following year Underwood Montgomery rented the room.  He was a mechanist and a sexton of the West Twenty-Third Street Presbyterian Church.  Montgomery would remain with the Condies at least through 1856.

James and Sarah Ellen would suffer grief while living here.  On December 7, 1857, little Ellen died 21 days after her first birthday.  And Samuel Harrison Condie died at the age of one year and 11 months on February 2, 1861.  The miniature caskets of both children sat in the parlor until their funerals.

In 1866, Condie sold the building and the business to Robert Blackburn.  He commuted from his home in New Jersey while James Whittet, who apparently worked for Blackburn, occupied the upper portion of 166 Eighth Avenue.  Born in 1833, Whittet and his wife, Catherine Loehmert, had four children.  The Whittets' residency would be rather short-lived and by 1864 David J. Hughes, a policeman, lived here.  He was followed by Thomas Ormiston, a native of Skirling, Peebleshire, Scotland, who died in the house at the age of 57 on August 27, 1866.

Beginning about 1873, the Webster family lived above the drugstore.  William Webster was a carpenter and Charles ran a liquor store or saloon next door at 168 Eighth Avenue.  William changed profession and in 1876 was listed as a policeman.

That year Robert Blackburn and two other druggists fell victim to con artist James Nagle.  On April 21, 1876, the New York Herald said, "His trick is an old one."  Nagle would ask for five cents worth of salts and give the druggist a five dollar bill.  "When the change was given he claimed that it was $1 short and demanded $1 extra," explained the article.  Police caught up with Nagle and charged him "of swindling."

Like the Condies had done, the Websters took in a roomer.  Mary Scott House moved in with the family in November 1877.  Described by the New York Evening Express as belonging "to one of the best families in the State," Mary House was in desperate straits.  A few weeks earlier, on October 23, she had married Elijah S. House ("a member of an aristocratic family in Troy," according to the New York Evening Express).  The newlyweds checked into the New York Hotel.  The newspaper reported that House, "left the hotel on November 1st, saying he was going to get some money, and did not return.  Four or five days after she received a letter from him telling her to go back among her friends, and she then found he had abandoned her."

The Websters may have given Mary House a room out of sympathy.  The New York Evening Express said, "All the money [House] gave her since her marriage was fifty cents."  She complained to the police, who finally found and arrested Elijah S. House, who was living with Emma Scott at 186 Thompson Street.

House defended his actions saying, in part, that Mary had told him "she was worth money in her own right," but after their marriage he discovered she was "deeply in debt and wanted him to pay her debts."  Additionally, "her temper became so irritable that he could not live with her."  Surprisingly, Justice Bixby discharged House because he had lost his job and could not support his wife.  He told Mary, "that she could have her husband rearrested whenever she was able to prove he was earning any money."

In February 1878, Robert Blackburn had a more serious concern than swindling to worry about.  His clerk, Edward Wall, filled a prescription for Sophia Brown.  The 20-year-old was pregnant at the time.  Dr. Bremen later said he prescribed ten pills that contained, in total, "one-fifth of a grain of Hyoscyamus."  (Hyoscyamus is a toxic plant used in small doses to treat nervous disorders or problems with sleeping.)  Instead, Wall put one-fifth of a grain of the poisonous ingredient into each pill--ten times the prescribed amount.

Sophia Brown took one of the pills at 7:00 on the evening of February 12 and died within an hour.  Dr. Bremen went to the Blackburn drugstore and discovered Wall's mistake.  Rather astonishingly, on February 19 a coroner's jury decided that Robert Blackburn and Edward Wall were innocent of malpractice.  The New York Times reported that the jury felt that Sophia Brown died "from a miscarriage, and that they knew not whether it had been brought about in an artificial or natural manner."

John Alexander Whittet had lived above the store in 1866 as a five-year-old while his father, James Whittet, worked in the Blackburn pharmacy.  In 1882, now a young man, he purchased the drugstore.  He had inherited $10,000 from his father's estate the previous year.  (The figure would translate to a considerable $325,000 in 2026.)  Whittet was originally successful, but a failed romance led to his downfall.

Four years later, on December 15, 1886, The New York Times reported, "He was paying attentions to a young lady living in Carlton-avenue, Brooklyn, but their engagement was broken off."  According to relatives, Whittet went on a drunken, year-long spree.  The New York Times said, "He did a good business until he contracted habits of intemperance."  Under pressure from relatives, he agreed to "become an inmate of the Christian Home for Intemperate men, but he withdrew his consent." 

In order to "save him from complete destruction," as worded by the newspaper, "his relatives interposed."  On December 14, 1886, police arrested John Alexander Whittet from behind the counter of his drugstore.  His grandmother, Margaret Ormiston, had "charged him with being an habitual drunkard," said the article.

Daniel R. Woollett, a printer, obtained the property shortly afterward.  Born in London in July 1838, he came to America in 1851.  An employer of the printing firm Styles & Cash, Wollett was an active member of the Masonic Tabernacle Lodge No. 598.  He and his family moved into the upper floors of 166 Eighth Avenue.  

At the same time, the Van Valkenburgh & Rickey drugstore took over the ground floor space.  That partnership dissolved in 1889 and August Weber took over the shop for his grocery business.  He moved in with the Wollett family.

Weber was chosen as a jury member in 1899 in one of New York City's most famous murder cases.  Roland Burnham Molineux attempted to eliminate a romantic rival, Harry Seymour Cornish, by poisoning a bottle of Emerson's Bromo-Seltzer with cyanide of mercury.  Instead, Cornish's cousin, Katherine Adams, took the medicine for a headache.  She died within a few minutes.  (The court case resulted in a landmark ruling that restricted prosecutors from presenting evidence of previous crimes.)

August Weber's grocery store was pointed out by The Evening Post in July 1902 as one of the outlets within Manhattan deemed by Dr. R. A. Witthaus of Cornell University Medical College as having, "pure, wholesome, and reliable food products."

Daniel R. Woollett died on October 30, 1904 at the age of 66.  His funeral was held in the parlor of 166 Eighth Avenue two days later.

The former Weber grocery store space was leased to Daniel Reeves, Inc. in April 1915.  The name was familiar to New Yorkers and this store would be one of hundreds of Daniel Reeves groceries throughout the New York City area.

Renting a room here in 1917 was Irish-born Margaret T. J. Curley, who worked as a stenographer.  The fiery-tempered woman attended what the New-York Tribune described as "a soapbox meeting of the Friends of Irish Freedom" at Broadway and 35th Street on August 29 that year.  What started as a peaceful protest ended in anything but that.  The New-York Tribune began an article saying, "Heads were broken, women trampled and eight persons arrested last night in two riots which followed the attempts of the police to disperse a crowd of three thousand persons."

Enraged after three orators were hauled off the platform by police only minutes after starting speaking, Margaret T. J. Curley jumped into action.  The New-York Tribune reported, "A woman, madly shrieking that she was a suffragette, leaped to the platform, tore off her hat and began waving the [Irish] flag."  The article said, "Miss Curley was arrested."

The Daniel Reeves grocery store was the scene of an armed robbery on March 26, 1927.  The New York Times reported that two armed men, "forced the manager, John Cleary and a woman customer, to the rear, rifled the till of $300 and escaped in a waiting automobile."

In 1929, an Art Deco storefront composed of Vitreous enamel panels was installed.  By 1938, Freddy's Food Market had supplanted Daniel Reeves in the store.  With Prohibition repealed, in 1938 the grocery obtained a license to sell beer and wine.  

In 1941, the Greek Revival entrance, the six-over-six windows and the modest cornice were intact.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The second half of the 20th century saw a decline in the Eighth Avenue neighborhood.  But a renaissance at the turn of the century saw trendy shops and restaurants filling the storefronts.  La Chinita Linda, a Cuban-Chinese restaurant, occupied the ground floor of 166 Eighth Avenue.  Richard Laermer's 2002 Native's Guide to New York said it "has fab black beans."

Distressingly mutilated today, only the Flemish bond brickwork and now-painted brownstone lintels and sills of 166 Eighth Avenue survive to testify of the building's venerable history.

photographs by the author

A Hidden Theater District Treasure -- 690-692 Eighth Avenue

 

Only the Gothic arches and drip moldings hint at the Eighth Avenue facade's original purpose.  photograph by frog17.

On March 21, 1886, the New-York Tribune reported that Rev. Albert Benjamin Simpson, "of the Twenty-third Street Tabernacle" had signed a contract to purchase the Madison Avenue Congregational Church for $126,000.  The article said it would "become known as the Gospel Tabernacle."

Born in Canada, Simpson was ordained as a Presbyterian minister in 1865 and came to New York City in 1881.  The year after purchasing the Madison Avenue church, he founded the Christian Alliance and would be president of the organization until his death.  His ability to amass the funds necessary to purchase the Madison Avenue property--equal to $4.3 million in 2026--had much to do with Simpson's charismatic personality.  The New York Times would later comment that it was not unusual for him to raise tens of thousands of dollars at a single meeting.

Rev. Alfred Benjamin Smith, image via cmalliance.org

Just two years after moving into the Madison Avenue property, on March 9, 1888, the New-York Tribune reported, "It was said yesterday by members of the Tabernacle that...the congregation made a fatal mistake in going there."  The Gospel Tabernacle Church sold the Madison Avenue church in August and the next month Edelmann & Smith filed plans for a complex of buildings on an L-shaped plot around the southeastern corner of Eighth Avenue and 44th Street.

On September 22, 1888, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide explained that the Gospel Tabernacle would occupy a 50-foot-wide building at 690-692 Eighth Avenue.  On the 44th Street side, said the article, "there will be a college building five-stories high, 50x45, of which two stories on the first floor will be rented out, adjoining which will be a six-story home, 50x100."  Edelman & Smith projected the construction costs at "between $100,000 and $125,000."  (The figures would translate to $3.5 to $4.25 million today.)

Edelmann & Smith's rendering of the Eighth Avenue elevation was published in The Christian Alliance and Missionary Weekly in March 1890 (copyright expired)

John Herman Edelmann and Lyndon Smith gave the West 44th Street and Eighth Avenue buildings similar designs.  Eschewing the Gothic Revival style more expected in ecclesiastical structures, the architects turned to Romanesque Revival.  

The Gospel Tabernacle and Missionary Home School building on Eighth Avenue was faced in red brick and trimmed stone.  Between the entrances (the Tabernacle was entered at 692 Eighth Avenue and Missionary Home School at No. 690) was a cast-iron storefront.  The asymmetrical midsection featured paired windows, arches and a second-floor oriel.  A square tower with a pyramidal cap and steep mansard composed the top floor.  

Edelman & Smith's design gave little hint that at the back of the building was an impressive worship and meeting space that soared the full height of the building, culminating with a glorious octagonal stained glass skylight.  

The Gospel Tabernacle could be accessed by the Berachah Home at 258-260 West 44th Street.  Its design was similar to the Eighth Avenue building, with a comparable mansard, but with a rounded rather than squared corner tower.

The Berachah Home offered "a place of rest and instruction for persons coming from various parts of the country in order to attend the meetings of the Tabernacle," according to a pamphlet, which added, "It is a commodious building holding about 100 guests and specially adapted to the purposes of the work."

The lower edge of the octagonal skylight can be glimpsed in this early photo.  (original source unknown)

The pamphlet explained that the Missionary Home School at 690 Eighth Avenue provided training for missionaries.  "A short course of Bible study and missionary training lasting about six weeks is conducted in this place and students are chiefly employed in missionary work and house-to-house visitation in the neighbourhood."

On the morning of March 16, 1890, services to dedicate the Gospel Tabernacle were held.  The New-York Tribune said, "Dr. A. B. Simpson, the pastor, addressed the congregation, giving a short history of the non-sectarian movement which led to the building of the Gospel Tabernacle."  The article said that the following afternoon, "the Training College and Berachah Home, which are connected with the institution, will be dedicated."

(original source unknown)

The headquarters of the Christian Alliance was in the Eighth Avenue Building.  The Encyclopaedia Britannica said, "At the opening of the year 1890, the secretary reported having established 23 missionaries in India, China, Japan, Hayti and Congo Free State."  The Alliance also published the Christian Alliance & Missionary Weekly from the building.

Rev. Simpson's ability to generate funds for the various enterprises under his control was mind-boggling.  On October 12, 1903, for instance, the New-York Tribune reported, "Nearly $70,000 was pledged yesterday by members of the Gospel Tabernacle, Eighth-av. and Forty-fourth st., to support the foreign missions."  The article noted, "At the end of the sermon a woman in the congregation jumped to her feet, shouting, and, rushing to the platform, handed $15 to the minister.  Some amounts pledged, ranging from $1,000 to $6,000, aroused enthusiasm when they were announced."

(original source unknown)

The incident was not out of the ordinary.  Three years later, on October 15, 1906, the newspaper reported that $71,773.80 was collected during the previous morning and afternoon services.  (The amount would equal more than $2.5 million today.)  The article said, "the congregation was wrought up to an almost hysterical pitch and threw gold watches and diamonds on the stage of the tabernacle."

Around 1908, the Berachah House was converted to a residential hotel called Alliance House.  An advertisement in the New York Herald in October 1911 read: 

Quiet place for quiet people; in the very centre of the city, catering only to a respectable class; suites consisting of parlor, sleeping apartment and private bathroom; also parlor and sleeping room, with running water; single and double rooms; steam heated; elevator service; popular rates; special rates for permanent guests.

In 1916, the Christian Alliance relinquished the management of Alliance House.  On February 16, The New York Times reported that Dr. Albert B. Simpson had leased it to Arthur K. Bonta, "the proprietor of the Hotels Bonta and Narragansett."

The configuration of the Alliance Hotel and Gospel Tabernacle are clearly seen in this property map.  from the collection of the New York Public Library.

Rev. Albert Benjamin Simpson died on October 29, 1919 at the age of 74.  In reporting on his death, The New York Times remarked, "There was almost no end to Mr. Simpson's religious activities.  He was editor of the Alliance Weekly and proprietor of the Alliance Press Company."  He had written many books, including the 10-volume Christ in the Bible, The Gospel of the Kingdom and The Old Faith and the New Gospel.  Of course, Simpson's funeral on November 4 was held in the Gospel Tabernacle.

Rev. Simpson's funeral was called a "service of testimony."  New York Herald, Nov. 1, 1919 (copyright expired)

In 1925, renovations were made to the two facades.  The mansards were removed, replaced with parapets.  Edelmann & Smith's Romanesque Revival elements were totally eliminated from the Eighth Avenue elevation and Gothic arches and square-headed drip moldings installed at the ground and second levels.  On the 44th Street side, the openings on the upper three floors were squared off, but much of the original appearance of the lower levels was preserved.

The Alliance House facade retained much of its original, lower floor elements after the renovation. vintage postcard from the author's collection.

The Gospel Tabernacle Church welcomed touring evangelists in the 1920s.  Some of their services were almost carnival like.  On July 22, 1922, for instance, the 14-year-old preacher Mary Agnes Vitchestain appeared here.  The Gospel Tabernacle Church's advertisement said, "Miss Vitchestain preaches to the largest audiences everywhere."  And the following month The Bosworth Brothers held a service.  The announcement said, "How sinners may be forgiven and how the sick may be healed are made equally plain by the preaching of Evangelist F. F. Bosworth."  It urged, "come and bring the sick."

The 1925 renovations erased all of Edelmann & Smith's 1888 design.  An electric sign for the Gospel Tabernacle hangs over the entrance of No. 692.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

Another renovation completed in 1950 converted the former Alliance Hotel into offices for the International Christian Alliance.  Then, on January 12, 1969, The New York Times reported, "For 80 years Gospel Tabernacle Church...has stood at 690 Eighth Avenue, south of 44th Street.  A domed skylight of stained glass surmounts nine banked rows of pews and a full-immersion baptismal font on the main floor."  Now, said the article, the buildings were "up for sale."  The organization had purchased the former German Evangelical Reformed Church on East 68th Street for its new headquarters.

The complex became home to Covenant House, organized in 1968 to house homeless teenagers.  The facility remained until 1995.  On November 12 that year, The New York Times reported that Peter Castellotti and Robert Vittoria (co-owners of John's Pizzeria founded by their great uncle, John Sasso, in 1935) were "negotiating to open a fourth John's Pizzeria, in the site of the original Covenant House at 260 West 44th Street."

Seven months later, on June 26, 1996, The Times food critic Florence Fabricant announced that John's Pizzeria would indeed open in the space before the end of the year.  Astoundingly, much of the interior of the Gospel Tabernacle was preserved--the galleries, original lighting figures, and all of the stained glass, including the striking skylight.

Before the 400-seat pizzeria was opened, artist Douglas Cooper was commissioned to execute a series of three murals.  The largest--21-feet high and 30-feet wide--adorns a wall in the former worship space.  Cooper describes it in architect Andrew Tesoro's website as: 

A panoramic fly-over of Manhattan visible from the full width of a bi-level mezzanine...The foreground is set in one of the most dramatic views of Manhattan: the view from the New Jersey side of the Hudson River above the entrances to the Lincoln Midtown Tunnels.

Cooper's "Front Room Bar Mural," which is 8-feet high and 30-feet wide, pictures a scene in Times Square including identifiable theaters and throngs of pedestrians and vehicles.  Astute bar patrons can pick out figures like Theodore Roosevelt, Mickey Mantle, Salvadore Dali and Marilyn Monroe from the dozens in the crowd.  And the smallest, the "Mezzanine Mural," is 2-feet high and 28-feet wide.  The separate images, according to Cooper, "focus on the theatrical character of the District [and] illustrate a set of improbably theatrical anecdotes going back as far as the 1880s."

Elements of the 1888 and 1925 designs survive in the West 44th Street upper facade, including the stump of the rounded tower.

Easily dismissed today, the two 1888 buildings are at best unremarkable from the outside.  But inside, better known to tourists than to New Yorkers, is a hidden and remarkable gem.

non-credited photographs by the author

The 1903 Hotel Darlington - 402 Eighth Avenue

 

photograph by Anthony Bellov

In 1902, the northern edge of Manhattan's Chelsea district was just seeing the influx of industry.  That year, still eight years before the opening of the magnificent Pennsylvania Station one block to the north, Isidor H. Kempner broke ground for a hotel and saloon at the northeast corner of Eighth Avenue and 30th Street.  Designed by the well-known architectural firm of Buchman & Fox, it cost Kempner $25,000 to erect, or about $940,000 in 2026 terms.  

The architects drew inspiration from Colonial prototypes.  Faced in red brick above the ground floor, the Hotel Darlington was three stories tall and stretched 64 feet down West 30th Street.  Its turret-like upper corner was likely capped with a shallow, conical "witch's hat" roof.  The second floor openings wore Georgian-inspired splayed lintels with layered keystones, while the treatment of the top floor windows was slightly less exuberant.  

In the rear of the saloon, which was initially run by Howard Babcock, was a large meeting space, Gallagher's Hall.  It was rented to various social, political and labor groups.  The space had a separate entrance on the side street.

From the beginning, the Hotel Darlington got an unsavory reputation.  Shortly after midnight on September 11, 1904, William F. McLean, an unmarried bookkeeper, checked in with a woman named Dora Callahan.  Within a few hours, McLean was dead.

The New York Herald said flatly that McLean "is said to have been a drug fiend."  According to Dora, who was held as a "suspicious person," a little while after entering the room, "McLean took two hypodermic injections of some drug."  The New York Herald reported, "When she awoke at 4 o'clock in the morning she could not arouse her companion and a physician was called in.  McLean was dead."  The following day, The Evening World reported that the 22-year-old Dora Callahan had been released.  "The evidence failed to show her in any way responsible for the man's death," said the article.

On July 26, 1905, the Excise Board revoked Howard Babcock's liquor license "under the provisions of the Ambler Law," according to The Evening Post.  (The Ambler Law restricted the sale of liquor on Sunday.)  The revocation was short-lived, apparently, and before long Gallagher's Hall was again routinely booked.

In its June 19, 1909 issue, for example, The Moving Picture World reported, "The regular meeting of the Picture Machine Branch Local 15, I. A. T. S. E., was held at Gallagher's Hall, 402 Eighth avenue, to an overflowing attendance."  The union rented the room each Monday night.  

And on February 11, 1911, the Irish American Advocate reported on the "third annual social and dance" of the Ancient Order of Hibernians the previous week.  "The affair was one continual round of pleasure from 8 p.m. to 4 a.m.," said the article.

Meanwhile, residents upstairs continued to draw unwanted publicity.  On May 16, 1911, The New York Times reported that the Secret Service had broken a counterfeiting ring that "had for its object the flooding of Alaska with counterfeit money."  The Federal agents had seized a printing plant in Hoboken where the fake bills were being made.  The newspaper said, "The plot started six weeks ago, when some of those under arrest lived at 402 Eighth Avenue."

Despite the often nefarious goings on upstairs, the meetings in the rear of the saloon were respectable--at least for the time being.  On July 10, 1913, Building and Engineering News reported that the "Park-Presidio District Senator Scott Club" was formed here; and four months later, on November 7, The Evening Telegram reported, "Seven hundred and fifty members of the [Chauffeurs and Taxicab Drivers Local No. 267] attended a meeting held in Gallagher's Hall, No. 402 Eighth avenue."  Taxicab drivers had been on strike and the meeting was held to consider the owners' offer.

Renting a room here beginning in 1925 was Russian-born Sam Hysso.  The 32-year-old came to New York City to study art at the National Academy of Design.  Unfortunately, things were not working out for him.  Three years later, The New York Times said he still "spoke English badly," adding, "It was said at the school that he seemed to be unhappy."  

Provincetown, Massachusetts was a summer art colony at the time.  In the summer of 1928, Hysso traveled there, but his solitude and unhappiness continued.  The New York Times said his only confidant there was "a small boy."  Hysso, said the article, was known as the "loneliest artist in Provincetown."  That boy told the town's police chief that Hysso complained that he was "tired out and sick of life."  As a storm was brewing on the afternoon of August 5, the artist told someone he was going out to "study the cloud effects."  He wandered out into the sand dunes and was never seen again.

Towering business buildings provided the ground floor business a constant supply of patrons. via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In 1933, with Prohibition in effect, Michael F. O'Day signed a lease on the former saloon and meeting hall.  He installed an eatery, O'Day's Restaurant, in the front and a dining room in the rear.  By then, the neighborhood had filled with factory and office buildings, resulting in a brisk business.  In 1953, O'Day testified that he served 300 persons each day.  

That year, while O'Day was ostensibly at home and sick, five of his seven employees were arrested for running a gambling joint in the dining room area.  Under questioning, O'Day insisted he was ignorant of the operation.  "Well, it is a cinch I wouldn't sacrifice my livelihood, a good business," by allowing illegal activities, he insisted.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

The building was sold in 1952 and 12 years later a renovation resulted in an "eating and drinking" establishment on the ground floor and four apartments each in the second and third.  At some point the brick facade was painted mint green and the brownstone trim a rosy-pink.  Forty-six years after it opened here in 1980, the Molly Wee Pub and Restaurant continues to serve the busy Penn Station community.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post.

The Augustus Reiner Grocery Building - 196 Eighth Avenue

 

As early as 1842, Augustus Reiner owned the three-story house and store at the northeast corner of Eighth Avenue and West 20th Street.  Abutting the building to the rear was a two-story stable.  Reiner and his wife Catherine Ann had at least one son, Augustus Jr., and two daughters, Catherine Ann and Leona Ira.  Born in Stuttgart, Germany, Reiner operated a grocery store from the ground floor.  He was also active in civic affairs and in 1842 was nominated for City Assessor.

Around 1849, the Reiners moved slightly north, to 225 Eighth Avenue.  Catherine Ann died there at the age of 78 on April 1, and Augustus died six months later on October 26.  He was 80.

In the meantime, the grocery had been taken over by John H. Eden in 1849.  Like the Reiners, his family lived above the store, and in 1857 Isaac J. Eden, presumably John's son, was working in the store as well. 

Isaac was no longer listed as either working or living at the address in 1860.  John H. Eden took Henry J. Reichers into the business, who moved his family into the upper portion of the attached stable.  Reichers was born in Germany in 1831.  He and his wife Eliza had four children, Charles, William, Frederick, and Elizabeth.  

The Richers nearly lost their lives and the Edens their home in 1861 when the stable was attacked by arsonists.   On December 15, The New York Times reported, "Between 2 and 3 o'clock Friday morning a fire occurred in a building occupied by Henry Reichers as a stable, and dwelling-house, situated in the rear of No. 196 Eighth-avenue."  Reichers escaped, but sadly "a valuable horse belonging to Mr. Reichers was burned to death."  Two men, James Johnson and John Leary, were arrested on suspicion of setting the fire.

Eden and Reicher worked together through 1863, after which Reicher took over the grocery.  (Expectedly, at that point he moved his family into the Eighth Avenue building.) 

William McTaggart and Patrick Henry McGowan, sons of Irish immigrants and both 16 years old, lived on the 20th Street block in 1865.  On August 7, they faced Henry Reichers in the Jefferson Market Court.  The New York Times reported that Reichers accused them of "entering his store and stealing $65.05 from the money-drawer."  Both teens confessed and were jailed.

Henry Riechers ran his grocery store until 1868 when he moved his family to Brooklyn.  Peter McDonald converted the store to a saloon and moved into the upper portion.  Also living there in 1870 were Patrick Mullaney, a bartender, and Frederick Gille, who was a dyer.

On August 6, 1870 Peter McDonald was arrested for "violating the Excise law by not keeping closed on Sunday."  His $300 bail would translate to around $7,000 today.

Amazingly, the grocery-turned-saloon would continued to flip-flop between the two types of operations over the next decades.  In 1872 it became the butcher shop of John W. Jones, and in 1876 it was reconverted to a saloon, run by James McCartell and William O'Connor.  (McCartell lived on West 33rd Street and O'Connor lived upstairs here.)  Three years later it was outfitted as the Harms Brothers butcher store, operated by Frederick D. and Henry J. F. Farms.

Harms Brothers remained in the space into the late 1890s, after which the ground floor was once again a saloon.   It was the scene of a shooting on March 2, 1914.  James Courtney and William O'Connor (apparently no relation to the former proprietor) were standing at the bar that afternoon talking to a patron known as Billy.  An argument ensued which became heated, and Billy stormed out.

The Evening Telegram reported, "About half an hour later he again appeared at the side door with a revolver and opened fire.  One bullet struck Courtney in the shoulder, another took effect in O'Connor's leg, while a third smashed the large mirror behind the bar."  Billy fled and the wounded men were taken to Bellevue Hospital.  Police were still searching for the assailant that evening.

The end of the saloon days came with the advent of Prohibition.  The building was renovated as Reilley Brother's Hotel, with rented rooms upstairs and a restaurant in the former tavern space.  John Kenny was a waiter here in 1921 when he was arrested for violating Prohibition laws.  Somewhat surprisingly, the crime did not take place in the restaurant, as would have been expected, but at Kenny's home.

Rooftop pediments announce Reilly Bros. Hotel in 1928.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The New York-Tribune reported on May 23 that he was arrested for possessing several bottles of whisky "in the rear sitting room of his home address."  The article explained, "Policemen testified that a pull on a rope end disclosed and opened a secret panel in the wall where the alleged liquor was stored."

A variety store occupied the ground floor in 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The Chelsea neighborhood had greatly changed by the last quarter of the 20th century.  In the late 1980s the Italian restaurant Twigs occupied the store space, and on December 24, 1997 Tazza, a Mediterranean restaurant, opened here and would remain into the early 2020s.  It was supplanted by Lasagna Restaurant.

The venerable building got a make-over in 2001 when the facade was renovated and the upper floors were converted to apartments.  The configuration of the openings on the Eighth Avenue side was changed, splayed lintels and keystones were installed above the windows, and the facade was scored to simulate stone blocks.  The two-story structure to the rear was incorporated into the building at the time.  

photographs by the author

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The John W. Conklin Tailor Shop - 155 Eighth Avenue

 

In 1790 George Rapelje, the son of an early Dutch settler, purchased land south of Chelsea from James Rivington.  The farm stretched roughly from what is today 18^th Street to the north to 16^th Street, and from Tenth Avenue to Seventh Avenue.  As was the case with several other farm and estate owners north of the city, Rapelje had at least two slaves on the property.

Like Clement Moore, whose family's summer estate abutted the farm to the north, the Rapelje family clearly saw the coming end of rural life above 14^th Street.  In 1811 the Commissioners’ Plan laid out on paper the streets and avenues above Greenwich Village, and that became reality in 1816 when Eighth Avenue was cut through the farm.  Nine years later, in May 1825, George Rapelje’s grandson and his wife Susanna began the process of selling off the land as building plots.

Around 1840 a three-story house and store was erected at 155 Eighth Avenue, between 17th and 18th Streets.  Faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone, its full-height third floor reflected the relatively new Italianate style, while its understated wooden cornice hung on to the Greek Revival tradition.

John W. Conklin moved his family into the upper floors and his shop into the ground space.  Working with him was his son, William H. Conklin.  A year after the Civil War broke out, Conklin moved his operation to the East Village.  His advertisement in February 1862 read:

To Let--The old established merchant tailoring and clothing store 155 Eighth avenue, and occupied as such for the last twenty years; is fitted up in good style, with a showy front, and is 72 feet deep.  Will be let reasonable, and possession immediately if required.  Apply on the premises, or to J. W. Conklin, 18 Fourth Av.

The space became home to J. & T. Melenfy's grocery and tea shop, operated by James and Theodore Melenfy.  Like many merchants at the time, the brothers were soon victims of a dishonest employee.

Martin V. B. Everson worked as a clerk in 1865.  The New York Times described him as "a young man of good address and about twenty-five years of age."  Theodore Melenfy became suspicious when he noticed what today would be called inventory shrinkage.  On the evening of June 3, 1865 Melenfy pretended to be otherwise occupied while closely watching Everson interact with a customer, James Reese, who was also Everson's friend.  Reese paid for his groceries and Everson pretended to make change, handing Reese his money back.  Melenfy summoned Patrolman Wood and had his clerk arrested.

J. & T. Melenfy closed in 1867, replaced by Joseph McDonald's haberdashery.  While he mainly sold men's hats, he also dealt in "gent's furnishing goods [and] ladies' and gent's furs."

As John W. Conklin had done, he moved his family into the upper floors.  McDonald and his wife, Anna, would have two sons and four daughters, but sadly on September 25, 1873, their youngest daughter, one-year-old Lauretta Gerldun, died.  Her funeral was held in the upper rooms the following afternoon.

McDonald was active in civic affairs and in 1876 served as a Board of Elections inspector for the district.  On November 7 he proved his steadfast unwillingness to make exceptions to the voting regulations.  William P. Hall and his son Eugene A. Hall explained that they were temporarily employed in Washington DC, "but being in the service of the government considered they were privileged to vote here," as reported by the New York Herald.  All of the inspectors but McDonald agreed to allow the men to register and to vote.  The 70-year-old Hall and his son registered and left.  The New York Herald said, "When they did vote, McDonald caused their arrest."

By 1881 25-year-old John J. McDonald worked with his father in the store.  The family was apparently extremely close, since the upper floors were well-populated.  Anna A. McDonald testified that year that living in the house were "my husband, two sons, three daughters, a son-in-law, daughter-in-law and myself and all the young ones."

On March 19, 1882, the family nearly lost their business and their home.  The newspaper Truth reported, "The three story brick building at No. 155 Eighth Avenue, occupied by James [sic] McDonald as a dry goods store, took fire yesterday morning from a defective flue."  Quick action by someone in the store put the fire out with an extinguisher before fire fighters arrived.  Nevertheless, damages of more than $8,000 in today's money was done.

The McDonald family was gone from 155 Eighth Avenue by the mid-1890s, replaced by 1896 by the Lazarus family.  On November 13 that year The Jewish Messenger reported, "On Thursday evening, Nov. 5th, the Misses Lazarus, of 155 Eighth avenue, tendered a reception to their friends in honor of their cousin, Miss Rae Joseph, of Cincinnati O., who has been visiting relatives and friends...Callers to the number of fifty came and quite an enjoyable evening was passed in singing and dancing.  A collation was served."

In 1941 the six-over-six windows and brownstone sills and lintels were intact.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

There was little change to the structure through much of the 20th century.  At mid-century the store was home to a stationery and greeting card store.  Then a renovation begun in 1966 changed the building's appearance.  A modern storefront was installed, the windows were replaced and, oddly enough, a brick veneer was applied over the original brick facade.  

In 2009 the upper floors still retained their 19th century appearance.

For years 155 Eighth Avenue was occupied by a hardware store, supplanted in 1986 by the Demartino fish market.  The ground floor became home to the Bombay Grill in the early 21st century, while the second floor was discreetly operated as Tino of New York.  In her 2002 A Guide to New York's Fetish Underground, Claudia Varrin said, "Leather-uniform lovers will be in heaven here.  Tino, a handsome fellow with beautiful eyes, specializes in men's leather uniforms, especially police uniforms, in the most outrageous colors."

Another renovation, completed in 2016, resulted in show windows on the second floor for Sexy Boutique, described by The New York Post as an "erotic emporium."  The shop was hit with a $2 million lawsuit by lawyer and playwright Susan Haar in February 2019.  Haar owned the townhouse around the corner at 304 West 18th Street, which, it turned out, shared sewage drains with 155 Eighth Avenue.  Just after she placed her property for sale, she discovered her basement flooded with six inches of sewage.  DEP inspectors discovered that the Sexy Boutique had been flushing "tubs of condoms and rubber gloves" into the plumbing.

Despite the recent carnage to the facade of the venerable building, its wooden Greek Revival cornice survives as does the overall domestic 19th century appearance.

 photographs by the author

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The William Menck Bakery Building - 163 Eighth Avenue

 

Originally a short attic level, the third floor was raised to full height in 1908.

In the late 18th century, George Rapelje's farm abutted Chelsea, the country estate of the Moore family.  The boundary between the properties ran approximately along what would become West 18th Street.  The end of bucolic life in the district came when Eighth Avenue was extended northward in 1816.  Two years later Clement Clarke Moore began selling building plots, and Rapelje's grandson and his wife, Susannah, followed suit in 1825.  

By 1842 a 25-foot-wide, two-and-half-story house-and-store stood at 163 Eighth Avenue.  Faced in red brick, its Greek Revival design included a squat attic level below what would have been a plain wooden cornice on block corbels.

The district known today as Chelsea was already a vibrant neighborhood.  William Menck purchased 163 Eighth Avenue, opening his bakery in the ground floor and moving his family into the upper portion.  The success of his business prompted an urgent-sounding advertisement in The Sun on April 12, 1842: "Wanted--An apprentice to the baking business.  Inquire 163 8th avenue immediately."

The bakery seems to have been a popular gathering spot for locals.  The city assessors annually published property assessments and for several years an identical notice appeared in the newspapers in the fall reading "a copy thereof is left with Wm. Menck, at 163 eighth avenue, where the same may be seen and examined by any of the inhabitants."

The Mencks apparently took in a highly-educated boarder in 1845.  His advertisement that year read:

A Gentleman lately arrived from France, is desirous of procuring a situation, being fully qualified as Teacher in a seminary or private family, or would have no objection to a situation in a mercantile house, being perfect master of the French and German languages, also, Spanish.  Understands book keeping by single and double entry.  Address A. B. care of Mr. Menck, 163 Eighth Avenue, New York.

In 1851 William Menck and his wife relocated to another developing area--Bloomingdale--far to the north in today's Upper West Side.  In 1852 he was the vice president of the newly-formed Bloomingdale Building Association, which provided building loans to urban pioneers in the district.

Louis Solomon moved his family into the upper floors of 163 Eighth Avenue.  The former bakery was divided into two store spaces, one of which became Solomon's clothing store.  The other half was leased to George Harvey and Williams Timms, who ran their fish store and oyster restaurant in the space.

Harvey and Timms did not survive here long.  On October 12, 1854, an advertisement touted, "A Good Opportunity--For Sale, a valuable oyster cellar, an old stand and doing a good business; also a dining saloon, in a business part of the city, for sale cheap for cash.  Inquire at No. 163 Eighth avenue, after 11 o'clock A. M."

Louis Solomon seems to have been struggling, as well.  By 1855 he had moved his family to 429 Eighth Avenue, and within two years his store was gone.  In 1858 one of the stores was home to George Clarendon's shoe and boot shop, and the other to Mark Leipziger's fancygoods store.  A fancygoods store was different from a general or drygoods store in that it sold a range of items like ribbons, buttons, ceramic figurines and such.

The relatively rapid turnover of stores continued.  On January 24, 1861 Clarendon advertised, "For Sale--Boot and Shoe Store, 163 Eighth avenue; Lease, Stock and Fixtures, or Lease and Fixtures without stock if required; the best stand in the avenue; low rent and fitted up in good style."  And the following year Mark Leipziger's fancygoods store became home to Sarah Shuman's millinery shop.

Sarah and her husband, Benjamin, moved into the upper floors of 163 Eighth Avenue.  The pair had barely settled in when near disaster struck.  On March 24, 1862, the New-York Daily Tribune reported that around 2 a.m., "the millinery store of S. Shannon [sic], No. 163 Eighth avenue, was discovered to be on fire."  Before the blaze could be extinguished, the Shumans incurred $500 in damaged, "principally by water," according to the article.  Happily the loss (around $14,000 in 2023 money) was fully covered by insurance.

Boarding with the Shumans in 1865 was Michael Kennedy, who volunteered with Hose Company No. 37 on West 29th Street.  He was on duty there on July 31 and, according to The New York Herald, "while there [he] fell asleep; while thus enjoying himself his watch was taken from his pocket."  Another fire fighter witnessed 22-year-old James McKegney "fumbling about the complainant's pockets while he was asleep."  Despite the evidence against him, McKegney, who worked as a barkeeper, "denies his guilt," said the article.

In a bizarre case of deja vu, on March 17, 1874, The New York Times reported, "James C. Kline, residing at No. 267 West Twenty-fifth street, was...charged with stealing a watch and umbrella from Thomas Seacock, of No. 168 Eighth avenue, while he was asleep."

By then Louis Weinheimer's "gentlemen's furnishing goods" shop had occupied one of the stores for at least six years.  The haberdashery would remain through 1880.  The other shop held Leopole Veith's drygoods store.

In 1889 Frank J. Berlin opened what he described as a "china and house furnishing goods" store, around the time that Louis Lowenstein purchased the building.  Louis and Albert Lowenstein (presumably brothers) opened their clothing store, L. Lowenstein's, in the second store.

In 1902 Louis Lowenstein hired architect John B. Mooney to renovate 163 Eighth Avenue.  The renovations cost him the equivalent of just under $16,500 in 2023 money.  The following year the Lowensteins signed a petition to the Board of Alderman to provide "flagging" (or sidewalks) along Eighth Avenue from 13th street to 59th Street.

A major change to the venerable building came in 1908, after Lowenstein sold the property to C. Fisture.  On July 16, The  Evening Post reported that plans had been filed "for enlarging and modernizing the two-story and attic dwelling and store."  The attic was raised to a full floor and an Italianate cornice, somewhat out of date, was installed. 

It appears Fisture rented rooms in the renovated upper floors.  Among the residents in 1911 was William C. Dodge.  He met a sudden death on November 28 that year.  The Standard Union reported, "William C. Dodge, a member of De Long Council, Royal Arcanum, was taken suddenly ill at the corner of Fifteenth street and Eighth avenue, Manhattan, last night and died before he could be attended by a doctor."  Dodge's affluence was reflected in the $624.24 check found in his pocket--a significant $18,400 by today's conversion.

Resident George Martin worked as a deckhand on the steam-powered barge, or lighter, the Jessica in 1922.  The vessel was owned by the Kehoe Lighterage & Coal Company in Flatbush.  With Prohibition in effect, the Government operated "rum chasers"--fast boats that checked ships for bootleg liquor.

On the night of September 20, customs inspectors from the rum chaser Newberry boarded the Jessica when its captain believed "Ambrose Channel, off Ambrose Lightship, [was] an unusual place for a steam lighter to be cruising in the early dawn," according to The Evening Telegram.  The men "were welcomed aboard courteously" by the Jessica's captain.

The article said, "Through every nook of the engine room and empty hold the customs men say they searched without result.  At the same time, they say, the unmistakable odor of high grade liquor assailed their nostrils."  They were about to abandon their search, when false panels "in, behind and under pieces of cabinet furniture" were discovered.  Inside were 2,112 cases of Scotch and rye whiskey.  The contraband was valued "by current bootleg rates at $211,200," said the article.  The entire crew, including George Martin, was arrested.

In 1937 the ground floors of 163 and 165 Eighth Avenue were combined as a single store, home to Newman's 5, 10, and 25 cent store.  The second floor of 163 Eighth Avenue was renovated as a dentists office, the third floor now had an apartment.

The first floors of 163 and 165 Eighth Avenue were combined in 1937.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

The configuration lasted until 1967, when the ground floor stores were again separated.  The store in 163 became home to The Book Stop, which remained for years, followed by Phases, a vintage housewares shop.

The Village, December 10, 1981

Writing in The New York Times on January 16, 1981, Eleanor Blau called Phases, "a roomy and elegant shop near 18th Street [where] you can find items from the turn of the century to the 1950's, including art pottery, crystal, chrome ware, old household appliances, Depression glassware (what they gave as gifts at movie houses to lure the customers in), and Art Deco."

For years starting around 1996, the ground floor was home to Allstate Private Car & Limo, a forerunner of car services like Uber and Lyft.  The firm remained at least through 2003, replaced by a men's day spa and more recently by a cannabis shop.

Much has changed in the Chelsea neighborhood in the more than 180 years after William Menck moved his bakery and family into 163 Eighth Avenue.  Yet, above the ground floor, the building looks much as it did following the 1908 renovations.  

photographs by the author

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