Showing posts with label maiden lane. Show all posts
Showing posts with label maiden lane. Show all posts

Monday, July 1, 2019

The Lost Gibson Restaurant Bldg - 57 Maiden Lane


The newly-remodeled building bore no resemblance to its former self.  The white lines are taped crop marks added to the photograph at some point.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Maiden Lane in the late 18th century was still lined with brick and wooden homes.  In 1790 the newly appointed Secretary of State, Thomas Jefferson, moved to New York, the new country's capital.  He wrote to a friend "My first object was to look out a house on the Broadway as being the centre of my business.  Finding none there vacant for the present, I have taken a small one in Maiden Lane, which may give me time to look about."   His residency at No. 57 Maiden Lane was short, just three months; but it was the scene of critical political events, including the dinner party during which the decision was made to move the capital to Philadelphia.

A century later things along Maiden Lane had drastically changed.  All traces of domesticity had long been erased as commercial structures replaced homes.  On the site of Thomas Jefferson's temporary home now stood a five-story office building, home to the Provident Realty Company of New-York.  But after its president, David Levy, committed suicide early in 1904, troubles ensued.  On June 26 the firm lost the property in a foreclosure auction.

It was purchased by James M. Fitzpatrick, who almost immediately resold it to James Gibson, Jr.  Gibson ran three well-known Gibson Restaurants in the area, one of them steps away at No. 51 Maiden Lane.  Now The New York Times reported that Gibson would use No. 57 "for restaurant purposes after extensive alterations have been completed."  The alterations would, indeed, be extensive.

On August 20, 1904 the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that Irish-born architect Frank H. Quinby was working on the plans.  "The entire building will be reconstructed, practically making a new structure.  There will be a new front and rear walls, new floors and partitions, new steam heating and electric lighting apparatus, and all other modern improvements."  Quinby estimated the cost of the all-encompassing project at the equivalent of $670,000 today.

Completed in just over a year, the transformation left no hint of the old business building.  Quinby had turned to the currently popular Flemish Renaissance Revival style which hearkened back to Manhattan's earliest roots.  Clad in red brick it was trimmed in limestone, including the quoins that ran up the sides and framed the openings of the fourth floor.  The obligatory, eye-catching stepped gable terminated in a sturdy brick and stone finial which held a flagpole.

The entire building was devoted to the restaurant and, perhaps surprisingly, the kitchen was on the top floor.  But now that his striking structure was ready, it appears that Gibson had a change of heart.  He never closed the restaurant at No. 51 and in 1908 traded the No. 57 to real estate operator Seth Sprague Terry for property on John Street.

On March 28 The Record & Guide reported that Terry leased "for a long term of years the building 57 Madison lane, now occupied by Gibson the restaurateur.  The new tenant is Reisenweber, who has a restaurant at 8th av and 58th st."

The uptown Reisenweber Restaurant was as well-known as Gibson's.  An advertisement in 1909 read "Remember: you can get all the famous Southern Dishes, Fried Chicken, Chicken Okra, Crab Jumbo, Boiled Rice and Candy Yams, cooked Southern style by 'Mose,' the celebrity negro cook from Dixie, at Reisenweber's."  The ad added "When downtown lunch at Downtown Reisenweber's 57 Maiden Lane."

Shortly after leasing the building Reisenweber made an advantageous arrangement with the alumni of Cornell University.  Well-to-do downtown businessmen preferred to eat at their private clubs, and on December 9, 1908 the Cornell Alumni News reported "Cornell luncheon headquarters have been established in New York city at Reisenweber's restaurant, 57 Maiden Lane.  The proprietors of the restaurant have tendered the use of all or part (depending on the daily attendance) of the third floor."  A week earlier the first group, more than 100, had gathered.  There were no dues and alumni were permitted to bring friends.

The article concluded "A good table d'hôte luncheon may be had for forty-five cents, and complete service à la carte is also provided.  Any Cornell men who visit the place during the noon hours will be sure to find a number of other Cornell men there."

The following year Reisenweber advertisements touted the Maiden Lane location as the "Most modern and up to date restaurant town down.  Cuisine and service excellent, prices moderate."  But less than two years into its lease, the restaurant left.  On February 2, 1910 the New-York Tribune reported that Ellsworth Childs had leased the building for three years.

Childs, in 1906, owned 15 casual luncheon restaurants in the downtown district.  That year his operation was consolidated into the Childs Restaurant chain, founded by his brothers Samuel and William.  The Childs restaurants targeted not only the businessmen of the surrounding firms, but the lower paid office workers and laborers.  Their lunchrooms emphasized cleanliness and hygiene at a time when such issues were not always considered important.

In July 1913 Seth S. Terry brought Frank H. Quinby back to alter the upper floors to lofts.  Terry advertised the renovated building on March 22, 1914 as being fireproof and having "steam heat and elevator."  The rent was listed at $9,000, or nearly $20,000 per month today.

The former Childs Restaurant space was leased "temporarily" to office desk manufacturer and retailer Jacob Barsky in October 1915.   Barsky's main store was at No. 1 Beaver Street and he ran another branch at No. 35 Union Square.  In July the following year he announced he would be consolidating the downtown stores into the Beaver Street location.

The next tenant would be a familiar one.  On January 27, 1917 the Record & Guide announced that Childs Co. had taken the entire building.  The article recalled "The building is four stories high, specially constructed for restaurant purposes and was originally the home of Gibson's Restaurant.  It was later occupied by Reisenweber."   But now Childs had to undo some of the latest renovations.  "After extensive alterations the Childs Co. will open there another of their famous restaurants."  This time it was architect J. C. Westervelt who made the alterations.

But if Childs moved into the renovated space at all, it was for a short time.  In June 1918 Terry leased the building to long-established wholesale jeweler Hammel, Riglander & Co.   


Hammel, Riglander & Co. announced its name in bronze letters above the first floor show windows. photo by Irving Underhill from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York 

Seth Sprague Terry must have been highly frustrated when his latest tenant, once again, left after a brief stay.  On May 3, 1922 The Jewelers' Circular reported that Hammel, Riglander & Co. had moved from Maiden Lane to 209 West 14th Street.

The quaint building survived only six more years.  In 1929 a 19-story office building designed by the architectural firm of Clinton & Russell replaced it.  That building and those around it made way in 1984 for the massive brick structure designed by Philip Johnson and John Burgee.  It was completed two years later.  A bronze plaque on that building testifies to Thomas Jefferson's residency at No. 57 two centuries ago.


photo via officespace4rent.com


Saturday, April 21, 2018

The 1898 Cushman Building - 1 Maiden Lane


A blank space and now-pointless brackets are all that remain of the stone balconies above the 8th floor on the Broadway side.  Those on Maiden Lane have been reduced to a flat slab.

As the 19th century waned, Maiden Lane became the epicenter of Manhattan's Jewelry District.  Among the commercial tenants of the Howard Hotel on Broadway at the northeast corner of Maiden Lane was Frederick William Barthman, who went by his middle name.

Barthman's was a fascinating story.  Born in Hamburg in 1840, his father fled with him to Brazil during the 1848 German revolution.  Three years later, at the age of 11, William found himself orphaned and made his way to New York working as a cabin boy in a sailing ship.  Once here, the boy found work as a jeweler's apprentice.

When civil war broke out he volunteered, attaining the rank of lieutenant under Ulysses S. Grant.  He married Eleanor M. Straat in 1864 and in 1873 formed the jewelry firm of Barthman & Straat with his in-laws.  When he struck out on his own in 1883, he moved into the Broadway hotel.

Now, in February 1896, it appeared he would have to find a new place of business.  The building was owned by the Cushman family, which had been in the real estate field for many decades.  The Cushman Estate offered the property at auction on February 21.  But bidding was tepid at best and the family withdrew the parcel when the bids stalled at $265,000--just under $8 million today.

William Barthman could not relax yet, though.  The Cushmans hired architect C. P. H. Gilbert to replace the old building.  His plans, filed in July the following year, called for a "brick and stone office building," which now took the side street address, 1 Maiden Lane.

On July 21, The Jewelers' Circular announced, "The tearing down of the old seven story brick building at the N.E. corner of Maiden Lane and Broadway, New York, will commence next week.  This building will be replaced by a magnificent 13 story structure, to be known as the Cushman building...It will be built of marble, brick and terra-cotta in the style of French Renaissance."



The Jewelers Review, April 12, 1899 (copyright expired)

Gilbert faced the building in mouse-gray brick trimmed in stone.  Expansive show windows faced Broadway.  The arched entrance on Maiden Lane, with its Beaux Arts carvings of vines and scrolls surrounding a realistic portrait face, smacked more of a hotel than a business building (as, it could be argued, did the overall design).  Stone balconies clung to the ninth floor.  The top floor took the form of a copper clad hip roof with hefty dormers.

Apparently the Cushman Estate and its long-term tenant came to an amicable agreement, for when 1 Maiden Lane was completed in the spring of 1898, William Barthman was again a visible presence.  The ground floor jewelry store drew especial attention with the clock Barthman installed in the sidewalk.

Working with employee Frank Homm, it took Barthman two years to design the $700 timepiece.  It was installed in the pavement in the fall of 1899.  Several years later, in September 1906, The Technical World Magazine remarked, "Perhaps the most novel device in time-recording instruments, its the sidewalk clock displayed in front of the store of William Barthman."  The article noted, "The works are under the pavement, and, instead of the time being indicated by a dial and hands, as in the ordinary clock, the hour and minute numbers revolve as in a panorama before an opening in the sidewalk."  The writer added, "Thousands pass this clock every day, step on it, walk over it, many in their busy rush unconscious that they are tramping on time."


The Technical World Magazine, September 1905 (copyright expired)

Advertisements for the new building carried the headline "JEWELERS" and called it the "finest location in New York."  And, indeed, jewelry firms quickly signed leases.  Among the first to were J. P. Bowden & Co., F. W. Lewis & Co., and Emil P. Angot.

.J. B. Bowden & Co. was founded in 1843 by Joseph Bowden,  His son, Joseph B. Bowden, joined the firm in 1874 and son M. L. Bowden was admitted in 1878.  Following their father's death in 1890, the younger Bowdens continued the firm, with Joseph being the senior member.  Interestingly, the firm focused on just one main item--finger rings.


The Jewelers' Circular, November 1, 1893 (copyright expired)

F. W. Lewis & Co., headed by Fred W. Lewis, cut and sold "diamonds, pearls, rubies and emeralds," according to the Jewelers Review.  The magazine described the company's offices on April 12, 1899:

This firm occupies offices on the third floor of the Cushman Building, 1 Maiden lane.  In appointments and fittings these offices are equal to any in New York, being of quartered oak, finished in fret work and antique Japanese iron work, allowing the free entrance of light as well as being very ornamental.

The offices of F. W. Lewis & Co. were described as "large and commodious."  The Jewelers Review, April 12, 1899 (copyright expired)

The article explained that the reception room was furnished with settees and the salesroom was "fitted with elegant counters and chairs."  Fred Lewis's own office was "decorated very tastefully with ancient statuary and works of art."
After The New York Times issued an editorial on November 1, 1899 entitled "Policemen at Crossings," which lambasted the traffic cop at the Cushman Building corner, Joseph B. Bowden came to his immediate defense.  In a letter to the editor that very day he said in part, "It seems to me particularly unjust that a man who tried as hard as this one to do his full duty should be accused of negligence.  He is particularly active and renders excellent service at this point.  Such criticism is calculated to discourage the best men on the force."

Diamond dealer Emil P. Angot was a partner with Hubert Lontjens.  When Angot left the office on Friday night, April 26, 1901, he headed to the notorious Tenderloin District to relax.  It was a decision he would later regret.

According to Angot the following day, he went to Casan's bowling alley in the basement of 57 West 26th Street.  The term "bowling alley" was, perhaps, a stretch--newspapers preferred to call it a "saloon."  He met James M. Elliott there, the men had a few drinks together, then Elliott left.  But he later returned.  According to Angot, "In an hour and a half he came back and asked me to do a favor for him.  We went outside where he wanted me to buy him ten grains of morphine."

And for some reason, Angot agreed.  He went to a nearby druggist, but was told they would not sell less than a dram.  He told Elliott, who replied, "It's not for me, buy the whole dram."   So Angot returned, spending the 45 cents for the dram of morphine which he handed over to Elliott.

Angot told police, "After that we went into several saloons, drinking more.  I was trying to get his address all the time, as my sole object was to get him home.  Finally, we went into the Cairo Cafe on 29th Street, where we drank with some women.  One of them accompanied us to Martin Dowling's 29th Street and Sixth Avenue, where we had a drink."

While Angot was "busy talking to the woman," Elliott poured the morphine into his glass and drank it.  Angot knew what had happened by the white residue in the glass.  Things quickly went downhill for the jeweler's night out.

He and Elliott left the saloon and Elliott told him, "I feel queer."  Angot took him to Stein's drugstore on Sixth avenue and 27th Street, where Elliott lost consciousness.  According to Angot, he nervously waited for the ambulance, then went back to the saloon after Elliott was taken away.  The following morning he read of Elliott's death.

Respectable businessmen did not need their names publicized in connection with Tenderloin District saloons, loose women, drugs and suspicious deaths.  But Emil Angot immediately went to his lawyer.  Hours after Elliott's death, Angot and attorney Bartow S. Weeks walked into Police Headquarters and reported the details.  He was arraigned for having purchased the "poison" which killed Elliott, and Edgar J. Howarth, the drugstore clerk, was arrested for selling it.

In an amazing turn of events, both men were released.  When the two men appeared before Magistrate Crane, Howarth insisted that the drugstore was not open that night.  Angot insisted it was.  Each, said The New York Times on April 29, 1901, was "equally emphatic."  The judge solved the standoff by discharging them both.

The Jewelers' Circular, November 22, 1899 (copyright expired)

P. L. Munford, a wholesale gem dealer, had space in the building by 1912.   Max Edwards walked into the shop in January that year, identifying himself as "a jewelry dealer and a member of a prominent Southern family," according to The New York Times later.  He walked out with $2,750 worth of gems on account and then promptly disappeared.

When he realized he had been duped, Munford put detectives on the case and an exhaustive chase began.  On August 20, The New York Times reported, "A general alarm was sent out for him, and detectives trailed him to Vancouver, B. C.; from there to Florida, and then to his home town, Edentown [N.C.]."  It was discovered that Edwards had "swindled many merchants out of large sums" in New York before skipping town.  He was extradited to Manhattan where he faced grand larceny and forgery charges.

On January 17, 1914, William Barthman died in his Brooklyn home.  His sons, Frederick William, Jr. and Henry, continued the business with William as senior partner.

Two months later, the Barthmans and the other tenants in the Cushman Building nearly lost everything.  A fire broke out in the boiler room early on the morning of March 30.  Policeman Harris noticed flames shooting up the elevator shaft next to Barthman's ground floor store.  Newspaper reports the following day said Harris broke in the door and "found that the fire had cracked the panels of glass in the doorway of the elevator shaft up as far as five stories."  The New York Times added that the fire had "threatened...to destroy the entire building, which is occupied for the most part by jewelers and is filled with valuable gems."

In the fall of 1920, the D. A. Cushman Realty Co. sold the Cushman Building.  The transaction prompted the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide to note, "The sale has an historic phase, as the direct ancestors of the present owners bought the parcel for 1,000 pounds sterling in the latter part of the 17th century."  The article added, "The present building was erected of particularly heavy construction for the jewelry trade."

The purchaser was long-time tenant William Barthman.  The firm placed bronze letters spelling out its name above the entrance, resulting in many New Yorkers today referring to the building as "the Barthman Building."



Jewelers continued to lease space in the Cushman Building.  At the time of the sale, Jung & Klitz had its office here.  The firm proudly recalled that among its illustrious patrons had been "Diamond Jim" Brady, who routinely acquired his namesake gems from its store.  By now the firm was headed by Charles R. Jung.

Somewhat unexpectedly, it was not the store of Jung & Klitz that was the target of burglars on April 23, 1921, but Jung's apartment.  While the family was at their country place in Lake Mahopac, New York, burglars entered the West 86th Street apartment and made off with "furs, silverware, and jewelry, valued at $9,000," according to police reports.  The heist would be equivalent to about $110,000 in today's dollars.

On November 22, 1930, three separate armed robberies resulted in the loss of $35,500 in gems and $2,500 in cash.  Two of the hold-ups took place in uptown jewelry stores and the third at 1 Maiden Lane.  But if the bandits had originally intended to hit a Cushman Building jeweler, they changed their minds to the more unlikely target of Ben Green's clothing store, instead.

Just before 6:00 three gunmen wearing handkerchiefs over their faces stormed in and held up the manager, three salesmen and four customers.  One of the thugs went to the tailoring room upstairs and brought down the eight tailors, adding them to the line-up.

One crook aimed his gun at the cashier, Lillian Larson, and ordered her to open the cash register.  The New York Times reported that she "fainted after she had handed the money over to the men."  There was $2,500 in bills in the drawer.

The manager, Louis Liebow, made a brave move by bolting away and down the stairs.  The gunmen rushed after him, but when they heard him crying for police, they turned and ran in the opposite direction.

On September 17, 1935, F. William Barthman died in his Forest Hills, New York residence at the age of 70.  Six years later his brother, Henry (who, incidentally, had achieved the rank of Brigadier General and served in the Spanish-American War), died of a stroke in Miami, Florida.  He was 73.

On April 5, 1944, The New York Times reported that the title to the Cushman Building "passed from the hands of William Barthman to the One Maiden Lane Corporation."  Around the same time, a long-standing issue with the sidewalk clock was addressed.  Frank Homm had originally maintained the clock, regulating it nearly every day.  With his death in 1917, his intimate knowledge of its workings was lost.  William C. Barthman replaced the unusual and temperamental mechanism with a standard dial-faced clock under heavy glass.

At the time of the title transfer, jewelers were migrating north, to what would become known as the Diamond District.  While some remained downtown, the Cushman building saw an increasingly diverse type of tenant, including rare stamp dealers C. I. Crowell, Inc.

Among those jewelers that did stay on with William Barthman was DeNatale Brothers, headed by Blase DeNatale.  It occupied the third floor.  That firm received an extraordinary honor in January 1952.  It had manufactured the jeweled crowns that would adorn the painting of Mary Queen of Peace in the Regina Pacis Votive Shrine in Brooklyn.  Now Blase DeNatale and his wife took the diamond-studded gold crowns to Rome where, accompanied by Monsignor Angelo R. Cioffi of the Regina Pacis Votive Shrine, they were received by Pope Pius XII.

The Pope blessed the items, which had significance beyond their religious and monetary value (they were insured for $100,000).  The New York Times reported on January 13, 1952, "The gold, diamonds and other jewels, were provided during the war by 12,000 parishioners of the Regina Pacis Votive Shrine."

William C. Barthman died on July 1, 1968, at the age of 73.   The William Barthman jewelry store, however, kept going in the corner space it had occupied for more than seven decades.

Blase DeNatale received notice from the Homes Protective Company on May 10, 1970 that a burglar alarm had been tripped.  A Holmes guard had gone to the location and found the street door to the building locked and no evidence of a break-in.  DeNatale went to the office and was no doubt initially relieved to find all four safes secured.  But when the safes were unlocked, he found about $200,000 in jewelry and precious stones missing.  "Investigators were unable to explain how the theft was accomplished," reported The New York Times.

The address had an unexpected and somewhat shocking tenant in the 1980's.  The Wall Street Sauna was one of several homosexual bathhouses throughout the city.  Because of its location, it catered mostly to a daytime business clientele, unlike its late-night counterparts further north.  When the AIDS epidemic began slaughtering Manhattan's gay population, City officials closed many of the bathhouses because of "unsafe sexual practices."  Two years after the first baths were closed, the City still had the Wall Street Sauna within its sights; but it and three others remained open.

On May 2, 1987 health officials announced, perhaps begrudgingly, that they "have found no violations to warrant their closing."  It did not stop them from, nevertheless, from publicizing the names and addresses.

When the World Trade Center Towers collapsed on the morning of September 11, 2001, the impact blew out the show windows and door of William Barthman.  Sadly, over the following three days--while most New Yorkers joined together in solidarity and mourning--thieves looted the store.  A full restoration was completed before Christmas and the store was in operation again.

In 2004, what The New York Daily News called a "gay sex club" here was shut down by the City.  Bad news coverage came again in October 2012 when undercover detectives uncovered a brothel operating from an upper floor.




Despite its few bouts with unflattering publicity, C. P. H. Gilbert's French Renaissance-style Cushman Building still commands attention on the highly visible corner.  And the Barthman sidewalk clock still ticks out the time under the feet of unnoticing tourists and brokers.

photographs by the author

Monday, May 11, 2015

The Lost John Wolfe Building -- 80-82 William Street


photo Architectural Studies May 1899 (copyright expired)

On March 17, 1894 the Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide reported that the old buildings on William Street, from Liberty Street to Maiden Lane would be demolished beginning May 1.   One of the buildings on the site was called the Wolfe Building; named for the family who had owned the land for a century and a half.

Now the estate of John Wolfe had commissioned respected architect Henry J. Hardenbergh, who had recently completed the hulking Waldorf Hotel, to design the new office building.   Hardenbergh was given the task of creating a 12-story structure on a rather thin plot of land—essentially what would later be termed a “sliver building.”  He drew his inspiration from the site—a section of what had once been New Amsterdam.

The Record and Guide reported “The materials to be used are Baltimore brick and terra cotta, and the style of architecture the ‘Dutch.’”  Hardenbergh had submitted a sketch to the Architectural League of New York three months earlier which depicted the skyscraper towering over the surrounding structures.

The thin brick and stone structure featured all the elements expected in an Amsterdam guild hall—ornate stepped gables and dormers, carved ornamentation and the stark contrast of red brick and white stone—stretched to towering proportions.  In January 1895 The Brickbuilder commented “here at the corner of Maiden Lane and William Street, on a lot only about twenty-five by seventy-five feet, at a guess, a really picturesque building, the John Wolfe Building, has been built…Twelve stories, all of red brick, and a great abundance of stone trimmings throughout, quoins, voussoirs, beltcourses, colonnettes, copings, towering upward with crownstepped gables and dormers, and balconies and bays; all most skillfully and logically worked out.”

Architectural Studies wrote “This building…has the merit, very unusual in a modern city building, of being picturesque in a thoroughly intelligent way.”  The critic added “It is interesting to see how this awkward shape of the ground was overcome and used to beautify the design.”

The John Wolfe Building was named in honor of the recently deceased hardware merchant.  The family’s wealth was reflected in son Christopher’s inheritance which included, according to The New York Times “his vast estates in the Thousand Islands” and Manhattan real estate. 

The Brickbuilder applauded Hardenbergh’s “successive retreating steps where the stories set back,” explaining that he successfully relieved the box-like appearance of such a tall structure.  “There is not a better studied piece of design in New York, nor one that shows better results.”

The John Wolfe Building sat squarely in the midst of the fire insurance district and, indeed, related firms moved in—like the Globe Fire Insurance Company which was here by 1897.  But a surprising number of construction-related companies took space here--like the Johnwhit Metal Company which moved from No. 62 William Street to the Wolfe Building in 1896.

In 1898 there were at least three cement and cement-related firms in the building.  The January 6 issue of Engineering News-Record ran advertisements for the Standard Silica Cement Co.; George M. Newcomer, Porland cement sales agent; and for F. L. Smidth & Co., “designers and builders of cement works” and “dealers in cement-manufacturing machinery.”   By 1901 at least two others would join them—Charles Warner Company, manufactures of lime products; and Curtin & Ver Valen, cement dealers.


 
Two of the building's cement-related firms were Standard Silica Cement and F. L. Smidth & Co.  (top, Real Estate Record & Guide, 1902; bottom, Directory of American Cement Industries, 1901 copyrights expired)
Both William and Liberty Streets ran downhill.  Loose wagons posed a potential problem for the brick façade of the John Wolfe Building.   On February 13, 1901 the City Council gave the John Wolfe estate permission “to erect at its own expense, on the line of the curb on the east side of William street, north of and near Liberty street, two iron posts to protect the John Wolfe Building from damage from vehicles in consequent of the steep incline of William and Liberty streets approaching that point.”  They would be an early example of the protective bollards that sprout throughout the city in front of major buildings today.

In 1904 the Wolfe family offered the building at auction.  The Real Estate Record & Guide noted “This is a very unusual opportunity, as the building is in the midst of the financial district, in one of the choicest business locations in the city.”

At noon on March 30 it was sold to Lorena R. Jones for $325,000 (about $8.75 million today).  The New York Times noted she “is said to have made the purchase in the interest of a syndicate which has also secured options on the remaining parcels in the block.”  If the group of investors intended to demolished the John Wolfe Building in order to erect a massive, block-encompassing structure, it was not to be.

In 1903 the building was still the tallest in the district - King's Photographic Views of New York City (copyright expired)

As a matter of fact, on March 11, 1906 The Times opined “The Wolfe Building…bought at auction by its present owners two years ago for $325,000, is said to be beyond the reach of any scheme for the improvement of the entire block.  Ten [sic] stories in height and built only twelve or fifteen years ago, it falls within the category of those structures which are not modern in the light of present-day standards, yet which are not old enough to be consigned to the scrap heap.”

In 1910 the syndicate of owners was in financial trouble and foreclosure resulted in another auction sale on April 20.  Shocking to the Wolfe family, no doubt, was the headline in The New York Times the following day.  “No Bids for Wolfe Building.”

The property was offered at auction again in May, and again on January 27, 1911.   Surprisingly, the Wolfe heirs purchased the building for $251,000; then resold it within the week to the Liverpool and London and Globe Insurance Company.  “The new owner, it is understood, pays a substantial advance,” said The Times.

The insurance company prepared plans for “extensive improvements” and issued evacuation orders to the tenants.  In October 1911 the firm announced it would take over all 12 floors and “the building will be renamed.”

George H. McFalls was one of the firm’s employees.  The wealthy broker was married with three children and lived in Brooklyn.  A member of the Gravesend Yacht Club, he took his 35-foot cruiser, the Vera onto the Great South Bay off Bellport, Long Island, on August 14, 1912.  With him were his 16-year old daughter Marion, and 4-year old Geraldine.  It was their last day of vacation.

While a few miles offshore from Amityville, the Vera broke down.  After trying for at least an hour to fix the engine, McFalls signaled a passing motorboat for a tow.  The 22-foot launch, the Pan, tossed a line and began towing the craft to land.

George McFalls went back below deck to continue fiddling with the engine.  Marion was standing up watching the approaching shoreline when a sudden jerk on the tow line caused her to lose her balance and fall overboard.  Her father heard her screams and hurriedly launched a small rowboat.  The attention of men in the motorboat was focused ahead and they did not notice the impending tragedy.

As McFalls desperately rowed toward Marion, she sank below the waves twice.  It was impossible to grab her and pull her into the boat, so he jumped into the water.  The Times reported “He reached her as she was sinking again.  She locked her arms about his neck in a death grip, making it almost impossible for him to swim.”

The motorboat had nearly reached shore when its occupants finally heard little Geraldine’s calls.  “Far behind them they saw the empty rowboat and the two figures struggling in the water.”  Although the boaters attempted to return in time to rescue the pair, they were too late.

“They circled round as rapidly as it could be done,” said the newspaper, “but while they were speeding back they saw that the father’s strength was gone, and while they were still a long distance away father and daughter, locked in each other’s arms, disappeared from sight.”

The men attempted to find the bodies for half an hour and finally gave up.  Geraldine’s uncle, S. J. McFalls, came by automobile from Brooklyn to take her home.

As the century progressed and the Wolfe Building was diminished by taller modern skyscrapers, it managed to survive.  The building continued to house insurance and banking offices well into the second half of the century.  Then on April 4, 1973 the massive World Trade Center towers were opened.  The event would signal the end of the line for the John Wolfe Building.

A project to widen the downtown streets to improve traffic flow to the towers meant the demolition of some structures—including the Wolfe Building.  The Landmarks Preservation Commission had been created in 1965; but its focus at the time was on more obvious structures.  Although protests were raised by certain groups and individuals, Hardenbergh’s remarkable Dutch skyscraper was demolished in 1974.


Today the Louise Nevelson Plaza sits on a section of the left-over land.