J. F. Miller's 1889 318 through 322 West 115th Street

 

Real estate developer P. H. McManus was busy erecting rows of handsome homes in the rapidly developing Harlem district in the late 19th century.  In September 1888, his architect J. F. Miller filed plans for eleven three-story brick rowhouses on the south side of West 115th Street, between Eighth and Ninth Avenues (today's Frederick Douglass Blvd. and Manhattan Avenue, respectively).  Miller arranged them in groupings of two and three.  Nos. 318 through 322 were designed in the Queen Anne style, with Romanesque Revival influences.

Perfectly balanced in an A-B-A configuration, each of the 12-room houses featured a dog-legged box stoop.  The arched openings and terra cotta eyebrows of the second floor were Romanesque Revival touches.  The Queen Anne style, however, was dominant, appearing in terra cotta panels, tympani and band courses, and the quirky metal hoods over the third floor windows of the end houses.  The center residence, which at 17-feet-wide was an imperceptible one foot wider than its siblings, boasted a striking second floor oriel and a prominent gable that overlapped the pressed metal cornice.

The center house became home to Dr. Edwin D. Simpson.  His methods were no doubt viewed with some suspicion by main line physicians.  In announcing his joining The American School of Metaphysics in November 1897, The Metaphysical Magazine said, "Dr. Simpson is a Theosophist, with a strong occult tendency, as well as a successful physician; qualities which, it would seem, should harmoniously combine to make the true metaphysician."  

Simpson's practice had begun like that of most other doctors.  The North American Journal of Homoeopathy said he "was for many years an old school man, but became convinced of the trust of homoeopathy and affiliated with us.  He was particularly interested in psychotherapy and taught this subject and physiological drug-therapy to the students at the New York Homeopathic College."

Simpson died on June 23, 1905.  For several years he had worked closely with Dr. Wallace Belding House, who lived nearby at 203 West 113th Street.  House not only absorbed Dr. Simpson's practice, but moved into 322 West 115th Street.  In its November 1905 issue, The Homoeopathic Record reported, "Dr. Wallace Belding House announces his removal to No. 320 West 115th Street, New York City, where he will occupy the offices and succeed to the practice of the late Edwin D. Simpson, M. D."

Born in Brooklyn, Michigan in 1871, House was educated in the Midwest, and in 1902 The Medical Visitor called him "one of the shining lights in the talented Ohio colony in New York City."  In April 1903 he was appointed "examiner in lunacy" and assistant neurologist to the out-patient department of Flower Hospital.

House's intimate relationship with his former colleague's family was strengthened on October 16, 1907 when he married Edwin D. Simpson's daughter, May.  The young woman who had spent much of her youth in the house now became its mistress.

Dr. House had to make a difficult decision in 1909--one that would not be challenging at all for a physician today.  He was chairman of the annual alumni dinner of the New York Homoeopathic Medical College and Flower Hospital at the Waldorf-Astoria.  One member, Dr. Charles G. Pease objected  vociferously to the custom of after-dinner cigars.  The New-York Tribune reported that he "gave notice to the alumni that they would have to choose between him and the vile weed."  His note to Dr. House said in part:

Can you conceive of anything more monstrous and unprofessional than a roomful of doctors in an atmosphere of poisonous vapor, their lips puckered around a cigar or pipe stem, as they suck narcotic vapor from a weed?  Certainly not a picture that angels delight to look upon.

Dr. House was somewhat taciturn about the matter, the New-York Tribune saying he "did not go into the question very deeply."  He did confirm, however, that "as the majority of the physicians at the dinner desired to smoke, cigars had been provided."  And so, said the article, "Dr. Pease says he is sorry he can't attend, but he has a horror of gazing upon a roomful of doctors inhaling poison into their systems."

The Houses remained in 320 West 115th Street until 1910, when they moved into a home on West 78th Street.  In the meantime, 318 West 115th Street had been home to Civil War veteran A. Livingston Washburn and his wife, Rhoda.  Not coincidentally, Rhoda was the sister-in-law of Dr. Edwin D. Simpson.  She died in the West 115th Street house on August 13, 1907.

By 1914 the former Washburn home was being operated as a rooming house.  Living here that year was Jerome O'Driscoll.  A stenographer with the Civil Service Commission, he earned $1,050 per year, or about $29,500 in 2023 terms.

No. 320 West 115th Street, too, became a "furnished room house" after the Houses left.  Both it and 322 West 115th Street were operated by Louis E. Bowen, who lived in 320.

In 1911, a boarder in 320 West 115th Street, Professor G. G. Simonelli, advertised "Italian instruction, translations, researches; lessons at pupils' residence; only by appointment."  And the following year a resident, Herbert Eisenberg, was hired by the city as a "Searcher," with an annual salary of $1,050.  Like his next-door neighbor Jerome O'Driscoll, in 1914 Christian A. Merz was hired by the city as a Civil Service stenographer.  The government's pay scale was nothing if not consistent.  His salary was the same as O'Driscoll's and Eisenberg's.

In December 1920 all three houses were sold to Schutter Homes, Inc., which quickly sold them separately.  They continued to be operated as rooming houses for decades.  Not all of their tenants were upstanding citizens.

Fred Small lived in 318 West 115th Street in 1921.  The 40-year-old was a glassblower who had come to New York from Lynn, Massachusetts in 1920.  He caused an upheaval within the house on the night of March 6, 1921 when he came home drunk "and created a disturbance," according to The New York Times.  His landlady called the police who arrived with a patrol wagon.  "Small had barricaded himself in the bathroom," said the article, "turned on the gas and began tearing the fixtures from the walls and ceiling."  The three responding policemen forced the door open and "overpowered him after a struggle."  When the patrol wagon reached Harlem Hospital, Small was dead.  Dr. Brandstein said his death "was due to alcoholism and gas poisoning."

Four months later, one of the roomers at 320 West 115th Street was arrested.  Robert Umstead, who was 18 years old, was caught in Buffalo with two other men in a stolen car.  They had taken the vehicle from 44th Street and Broadway on June 13, and then used it for a crime spree.  On June 28, The New York Times reported that Umstead was one of the "three young men, believed by the police to be the trio of bandits who during the last month committed many hold-ups by means of an automobile between here and Niagara Falls [who] were locked up in Police Headquarters yesterday."  When apprehended, Umstead had two loaded revolvers on him.

All three stoops were intact in 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

More respectable were Sam and Mary Young, who lived at 322 West 115th Street in the 1930s.  The young Irish-born couple ran the Old Log Cabin Grill at 103rd Street and Columbus Avenue, and the Log Cabin Hotel in Rockaway Beach.  The couple provided transportation from Manhattan to the hotel.  A 1934 advertisement said, "During the summer season buses will leave Young's Old Log Cabin Grill...every Friday."  It noted, "The Log Cabin Hotel is made up of nice, light, airy and large furnished rooms with the privilege of light housekeeping.  There is also an indoor and out-door restaurant where good home cooked meals are served at low prices."

Mary Young died on Christmas Eve, 1934.  Her wake was held in 322 West 115th Street.  Sam remained here for several more years.  

In the 1980s, a single room in 318 West 115th Street with "no cooking" cost $75 per week with two weeks' rent paid in advance and two weeks' security required.  Two doors away at 322 West 115th Street, rooms were slightly more expensive.  A well-worded advertisement in October 1983 was titled, "Is Harlem on your mind?" and offered "studios, ranging from $75 to $125 per week."  (The more expensive rent would translate to about $340 today.)

The West 115th Street neighborhood underwent significant change in the 21st century.  A renovation completed in 2012 resulted in two duplexes within 322 West 115th Street, and then in 2019 the house was reconverted to a single family home with one apartment in the basement.

The architects' released this rendering in 2015.  via newyorkyimby.com

In 2015 Madison Advisory Group announced plans to combine 218 and 220 West 115th Street and add two-stories set back from the roofline.  Designed by CTA Architects, the remodeled building contains six condominium apartments.

photograph by the author

LaptrinhX.com has no authorization to reuse the content of this blog

J. F. Miller's 1889 308-312 West 115th Street

 

As the Harlem district changed from one of rural summer estates and farms to blocks of prim rowhouses and stores in the late 19th century, real estate develop P. H. McManus was a strong proponent.  He moved his family into a house on West 135th Street and erected rows of handsome homes.  In September 1888 J. F. Miller filed plans for another--11 three-story brick rowhouses on the south side of West 115th Street, between Eighth and Ninth Avenues (today's Frederick Douglass Blvd. and Manhattan Avenue, respectively).  Miller arranged them in groupings of two and three.  Nos. 308 through 312 were designed in the Queen Anne style, with Romanesque Revival influences.

Perfectly balanced in an A-B-A configuration, each of the 12-room houses was approached by a dog-legged box stoop.  Romanesque Revival appeared in the arched openings and terra cotta eyebrows of the second floor.  It was Queen Anne that took center stage, however, with terra cotta panels, tympani and band courses, and quirky metal hoods over the third floor windows of the end houses.  The center residence, which at 17-feet-wide was an imperceptible one foot wider that its siblings, boasted a striking second floor oriel and a prominent gable that overlapped the pressed metal cornice.

By 1892 the recently married H. Richard Payne and Bertha B. Payne lived at 310 West 115th Street.  Tragically, Bertha died in the house on January 19, 1893 at just 20 years of age.  H. Richard Payne remained at least through 1895.

Living next door at 312 West 115th Street was Henry Steinhardt, whose liquor store at 315 Bowery was the scene of a bizarre incident on the night of May 16, 1895.  Policeman Timothy Keyes, who was on duty that night, was described by The Evening Telegram as having a reputation "of being observant and highly intelligent."  At 10:00 he blew his whistle in front of Steinhardt's liquor store.  "Policemen in plenty and a crowd of people were soon on the scene," said the newspaper.

Keyes explained that he peered into the store and saw a juvenile burglar on his knees, working the safe.  The would-be thief looked up, saw the policeman, and bolted to the rear of the store.  The Evening Telegram reported, "Keyes says the burglar was about seven years old, of the male sex and had brown eyes, untidy hair and a pale complexion.  He wore short dark trousers, a striped shirt and a small round cap."

The police surrounded the store to prevent escape.  A messenger notified the station house and a telephone call was made to Steinhardt.  At 1:00 in the morning he and two salesmen arrived.  By then the policemen had broken in by smashing a lock.  An hour-long search of the premises were made and all the doors and windows were found to besecure.  Steinhardt and the salesmen decided to wait until daylight inside the store.  At 7:00 they gave up.  The Evening Telegram titled its article "Burglar Vanished in Air" and ended it saying that Officer Keyes was "of a sober disposition, and was not addicted to ghosts."

Living with the Steinhardts in 1896 was E. J. Saunders.  He became involved in the push to have sculptor Ernst Herter's marble monument to poet Heinrich Heine, called the Lorelei Fountain, brought to New York.  Sculpted in 1896, it had been intended to sit in Dresden, but antisemitism and the German Empire's nationalist propaganda derailed the plans.  In February 1896 Saunders signed his name with scores of other businessmen imploring the Board of Aldermen to accept the fountain.  (It was accepted and now sits in Joyce Kilmer Park.)

At the turn of the century 308 West 115th Street was occupied by F. M. Davis and his wife.  The couple ran Grangely Hall, a private school for boys and girls, within the house.   When a crime wave hit the district in the summer of 1904, the Davises were hit hard.  On September 12 the New York Herald reported that there had been 42 robberies within a 35-day period.  The article noted that on August 12 the "house of Mrs. Davis, No. 308 West 115th street, [was] entered by [a] thief and nearly everything of value taken."  It would not be until New Year's Day 1905 that the James G. Walker, alias Lawrence Macy, was captured.

At the turn of the century, 310 West 115th Street became the fraternity house of Columbia University's Beta Theta Pi chapter.  A member wrote in the 1900 Convention Minutes:

We rent a very comfortable house five minutes walk from college at 310 West 115th street.  A colored man and his wife take care of it and do the cooking.  We own all the furniture in the house, including a pool table.  As yet we have not started to think of building, but that is merely a question of time.  Land and building are expensive in New York, but we hope that some plan will present itself that will enable us to own a house before many years...Four men live in the house.  We can accommodate seven or eight.

Among the members living here in 1903 was A. E. Thurber, who also served as secretary of the Intercollegiate Lawn Tennis Association.  The chapter continue to rent the house for several years.  Upon its departure, 310 West 115th Street was operated as a rooming house.  (Rooming houses differed from boarding houses in that there were no meals provided.)  It was offered for rent in March 1918, the advertisement reading, "Furnished rooming house, $300 cash; all rooms rented; in good order."

No. 312 was also a rooming house by 1912.  Two of its tenants were well-known criminals--"Red" Walker and "Jew" Baylies.  They were spotted by Detectives James and Gus Reilly and James Fiman on a westbound crosstown 116th Street streetcar on September 6 that year.  The pair was unwilling to be arrested and a "hard fight" resulted.  "The fight in the car," said the New York Herald, "caused intense excitement in 116th street and alarmed the many passengers in the car."  That "excitement" was no doubt intensified when the detectives determined "it was necessary to subdue their opponents with drawn revolvers."

At the station house they were charged with having "jimmies" and other burglar tools on them.  Detectives escorted the pair to their rooms at 312 West 115th Street, "where a large quantity of silverware, jewelry and men's and women's articles of apparel were found."

Following World War I 308 West 115th Street was also operated as a rooming house.  Truck driver Joseph Giordano lived here in 1922.  He was driving along Skillman Street in Brooklyn on July 14 that year, the sign on his truck reading "Carpets and rugs cleaned, dyed, washed and repaired."  During the Prohibition Era, random stops of trucks was common and that afternoon Giordano was pulled over.  Police Lieutenant Patrick Sheridan asked the 21-year-old, "What have you got in there, son?"

Giordano was unexpectedly candid.  "Whisky," he said.

The truck was searched and detectives found 110 burlap bags of 660 bottles of rye.  They also discovered that the license plates were fake.  Not surprisingly, Giordano was taken in.  Police believed the illegal liquor was "cached in the harbor."  The New York Times explained, "The burlap bags were dripping wet and the corks showed the effects of immersion.  Smugglers are suspected of bring contraband up the harbor and hiding it under water in bags attached to a buoy until the coast is clear for delivery to trucks."

The decline in the neighborhood was reflected in the death of Leonard Mastromanaco, who lived at 312 West 115th Street in 1933.  The 18-year-old was playing cards on the night of October 12 when two men called him into the hallway.  The Yonkers Statesman reported, "They held a whispered conversation in the hallway and suddenly one of the strangers fired at Mastromonaco."  The bullet entered his left temple and he died at the Harlem Hospital later that night.  Police told reporters the argument was "over a young woman."

At the time of the incident, 308 West 115th Street was owned by Jacques Danielson and his wife Fannie, who was better known by her penname, Fannie Hurst.  The novelist's Imitation of Life was published that year.  It is doubtful that the Danielsons lived in the 115th Street house, and most likely rented it.  They sold it in November 1934.

All three houses suffered in the subsequent decades.  No. 310 was converted to furnished rooms in 1937.  By the last quarter of the 20th century, at least one of the homes had been acquired by the city in a valiant, but failed, rehabilitation effort.  On February 8, 1988 The New York Times wrote, "The city had hoped to stem the decay of the housing by seizing it from tax-delinquent landlords and by quickly turning it over to new managers.  But the buildings, often in the poorest neighborhoods and in need of major repairs, proved unattractive to investors."  

The article pointed out 308 West 115th Street, where it said the single-room occupancy building had been redesigned into apartments by the city, "creating some that were windowless."  It noted, "One apartment did have an 8-by-10, single pane skylight, but it had been nailed shut and had been covered with a glass dome."

Time and a rediscovery of the neighborhood changed all that.  In 2003 308 West 115th Street was reconverted to a single family home with a basement apartment.  Plans were filed for interior renovation of 310 West 115th Street in 2017.   The trio creates a charming architectural ensemble on the ever-changing block.

photographs by the author

LaptrinhX.com has no authorization to reuse the content of this blog

The Matthew M. Looram House - 316 West 115th Street

 

A stoop originally led to the entrance within the larger opening at the left.

In September 1888 architect J. F. Miller filed plans for an ambitious row of homes on the south side of West 115th Street between Eighth and Ninth Avenues (later renamed Frederick Douglass Boulevard and Manhattan Avenue, respectively).  Developer P. H. McManus was active in the developing Harlem district, and these eleven three-story and basement houses would nearly fill the blockfront.  Each of the high-end residences cost him $10,000 to construct--approximately $295,000 in 2023.

Miller designed the row in groupings of two and three.  One mirror-image pair, 314 and 316 West 115th Street, stood out because rather than the red brick and brownstone facades on either side, he clad them in light, cream-colored sandstone.  His take on the Venetian Gothic Revival style was understated.  Instead of the expected, bold voussoirs of alternating colors almost obligatory in the style, these melted into the facade.  Each level of the 16-foot-wide houses was marked by a projecting stone course, and a prominent corbel table upheld the cornice.  

No. 316 West 115th Street became home to Matthew M. Looram, the principal in the brokerage firm of M. M. Looram & Co. at 20 Broadway, of which Albert Biddle was his partner.  

Matthew Looram's brother and sister, James P. and Catharine, lived with their mother, Mary, at 351 East 39th Street.  The three siblings had inherited the house in equal portions upon the death of their father.  In 1889 they transferred title to the 39th Street house to their mother.

James P. Looram died there on January 17, 1890.  The following year, in July, Mary transferred title to Catherine and moved into 316 West 115th Street with Matthew.  Her residency would be short lived.  She died on May 21, 1892 at the age of 71.  Interestingly, Matthew did not hold her funeral in the parlor, as would have been customary, but at the Church of St. Thomas the Apostle on 118th Street.

Looram drew nationwide attention when he sued the Western Union Telegraph Company.  Looram had leased stock tickers from the Gold & Stock Telegraph Company, which he used in his Broadway office.  In June 1897, after acquiring the Gold & Stock Telegraph Company, Western Union canceled his contract and removed the machines.  An irate Looram demanded the tickers back, protesting that "he would use the tickers only in the business conducted by him and not to run a so called bucket shop."  (A bucket shop was an illegal gambling operation that took bets on the rise and fall of stocks.)  After a long-fought legal battle, Looram lost his suit in August 1899.

In 1902 Matthew M. Looram erected a 22-room house in New Rochelle, spending over $1 million on the land and building.  His former Manhattan residence was now operated as a high-end boarding house run by Mrs. K. L. Reton.  Her boarders that year were Frank George White, a member of the American Society of Civil Engineers, and Henry Moore, Jr.  Moore was a graduate of the University of Virginia and a member of the New York Southern Society.

Mrs. Reton sub-let the boarding house in 1912.  Her advertisement read, "Furnished 10 room house, first class condition, good lease; rent $75; reasonable; going South."  The monthly rent was, indeed, reasonable, equal to about $2,000 today.

Eugene Geary moved in around that time.  Born in Kilderny, County Cork, Ireland in 1862, he was a journalist, serving sporadically on the editorial staff of different New York newspapers.  In 1911 he became editor-in-chief of Beverages, a trade journal.

A proud member of the American Irish Historical Society, Geary was best known for his poetry.  His poems were a regular feature of The Evening World and the New-York Tribune.  His humorous verse was typified by his "The New Romance," published in The Evening World on May 17, 1913, which poked fun a modern relationships.  It began with a couple's marriage ceremony and traced their eroding romance.  The ending stanza read:

Now he's gone afar,

Future's full of freckles--

She? Oh, she's a star--

Lots of fame and shekels.

Broken was Love's shaft,

Once a peacherino,

Till the wedded craft

Landed out in Reno.

In December 11, 1912 Geary died at the Harlem Hospital at the age of 52.  The Evening World said he "was one of the last of the old-time lyricists of the Tom Moore school.  His verse had a swing and a music that was irresistible."

In 1917 engineer Cevat Eyüp Tasman, who went by Djevad Eyoub, and his wife Mehlika moved into 316 West 115th Street.  Born in Bolu, Turkey on December 26, 1893, he earned his degrees in mining engineering from Columbia University.  After graduation he took a job as a mining geologist in New Mexico with the Anaconda Copper Company.  It was the beginning of a life-long career in oil exploration.  Years later he would help found the Petroleum Administration in Turkey.

The West 115th Street house was offered for sale in 1920 for $18,000, after which Djevad and Mehlika moved to Brooklyn.  The Harlem neighborhood at the time was quickly transforming into the center of Manhattan's Black community.

Not all the residents of the former Looram house were upstanding citizens during the Depression years.  When William Newman was arrested as a pickpocket on July 19, 1933, The New York Sun reported that his "record includes only nine arrests since 1923."

Carmemn Weeks, the only sister of poet Ricardo Weeks, lived here in the early 1940s.  He was a contributor to the Associated Negro Press.  In December 1941, Carmemn contracted walking pneumonia.  Three months later she was still confined to her bed.  Then, on March 7, 1942, The New York Age wrote, "It had been reported that the twenty-four year old girl was improving satisfactorily, until Thursday evening, without permission, she left her bed and went to the bathroom where she collapsed and died of a heart attack."

The mirror-imagine houses retained their stoops in 1941.  via the NYC Dept of Records  Information Services.

In 1965 315 West 115th Street was converted to apartments, two per floor.  The stoop was removed and the entrance lowered to the former basement level.

Then, in 1981, it was purchased by Raven Chanticleer, who began to return it to a private home.  Chanticleer was a colorful figure.  Born James Watson on September 13, 1928, his parents were sharecroppers in Woodruff, South Carolina.  With dreams of becoming an artist and fashion designer, he attended the Fashion Institute of Technology and the Sorbonne in Paris.  While in Europe, he took an excursion to London and visited Madam Tussaud's wax museum.  He later told a reporter:

I was captivated by this wonderous, vibrant art form.  But I was also upset that there weren't any black personalities represented.  It was then that I decided that one day I would have my own wax museum.  Why?  I don't know, just craziness, you know.

Chanticleer returned to New York in 1965 and became one of the first Black clothing designers for Bergdorf Goodman.  He founded the Raven Chanticleer Dancers, who performed in nightclubs around Manhattan and wore costumes designed by him.

One of the reasons he purchased the Harlem house was so he could work on his wax museum.  But there would be problems.  By now the neighborhood was derelict.  There was a crack den in the neighboring house and the occupants broke his windows, vandalized his automobile, and set fire to his trash cans.  But he persevered.  

Eight years later, after spending more than $60,000 on renovations and working on his figures, he opened the Harlem African-American Wax Museum.  He told The New York Times, "I created these was figures to keep alive their words and their deeds at a time when too many African-Americans think we have no heroes."  Among those heroes memorialized in wax were Malcolm X, Martin Luther King Jr., Adam Clayton Powell Jr., Joseph Baker and Fannie Lou Hamer.

And Raven Chanticleer.

During a radio interview in 2001, Chanticleer explained that he included himself "just in case something should happen to me, if they didn't carry out my wishes and my dreams of this wax museum, I would come back and haunt the hell out of them."

Raven Chanticleer posed between his figures of Malcolm X and Mayor David N. Dinkins in 1993.  photo by Chester Higgins, Jr., The New York Times, November 5, 1993.

Something did happen to Raven Chanticleer.  He died at the age of 72 on April 7, 2002.  A niece told Andy Newman of The New York Times, "We are hopefully, once we get through all the legalities, going to try to see if we can keep it going.  That was something he wanted us to do."

But, instead, the figures were reportedly destroyed in 2005.  Three years later the house was renovated and today is a single family home above a basement apartment.

photographs by the author

no permission to reuse the content of this blog has been granted to LaptrinhX.com