The Lost Sunshine Chapel - 550 West 40th Street

The Brickbuilder magazine, May 1909 (copyright expired)

 

On March 13, 1875, Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper published an article about the work of St. John's Guild, whose members ventured into the dangerous and impoverished Hell's Kitchen neighborhood to offer food or shelter.  In describing the conditions, the article noted,  "Another place visited was 550 West Fortieth Street, where in a tumble-down shanty a poor Frenchwoman lived with six small children."

The house at 550 West 40th Street in 1875.  Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, March 13, 1875 (copyright expired)

Another group that worked in the district was the Sunshine Mission.  It operated from rented rooms at 484 Eleventh Avenue, "under difficulties that might easily discourage the ordinary Settlement worker," according to the New-York Tribune later.  In 1886 the Marble Collegiate Church took over the struggling mission.

After it was evicted from its rooms in December 1905, a single, temporary room at 509 Tenth Avenue was rented.  The reduced space, according to the New-York Tribune, "made it necessary to disband the clubs and other work was neglected."  In response, the Marble Collegiate Church purchased the property at 550 West 40th Street, between Tenth and Eleventh Avenues, and hired the architectural firm of Werner & Windolph to design a structure that could accommodate the many works of the Sunshine Mission.

Plans were filed in January 1906 for a "two-story brick and stone parish house" which would cost $12,000 to erect.  The total expense of the project, including the property and furniture, would total $30,000 (around $932,000 in 2022).  Construction forged ahead rapidly and by November the structure was nearly completed.  The New-York Tribune called it "a handsome structure, that will be an ornament as well as a blessing to the neighborhood."

Construction was nearing completion in November 1906.  The windows and doors had not yet been installed.  The New-York Tribune, November 22, 1906 (copyright expired)

The following month, The New York Observer reported, "The lower floor contains a commodious auditorium, reading room, office and kindergarten.  On the upper floor are a large clubroom and a gymnasium."  The basement held a basketball court--a significant lure to keep young Hell's Kitchen boys away from the dangerous streets.

The Brickbuilder magazine, May 1909 (copyright expired)

Once in its new building, the name of the organization was changed to the Sunshine Chapel.  The number of groups it supported was exhausting:  a Young Men's Guild, a Martha and Mary Society, a Senior and a Junior Boys' Club, and a Sunday School.  Free classes were offered in cooking and sewing, and another in gymnastics.  The kindergarten classroom was located at the rear of the first floor.  Directors told reporters, "it is believed that the accommodations in the new building will be as pleasant and as suitable as those of any kindergarten rooms in the city."

Like other missions, in the summer the Sunshine Chapel did "fresh-air work," which took children who had never played on grass or enjoyed fresh air into the country.

On December 17, 1907 the Sunshine Chapel celebrated its first anniversary in the new building with a two-part reception.  The New York Post reported "From nine to twelve...the kindergarten will welcome visitors," and that evening, "The clubs, physical culture class, and basketball teams will be seen in operations."  The basketball teams were a major source of recreation for the neighborhood youth, and their victories and defeats were followed in the sports columns.

The auditorium of Sunshine Chapel was the scene of nearly weekly lectures throughout the fall through spring seasons.  The topics were more likely to attract a middle- or upper-class audience, rather than the impoverished and ill-educated locals.  On October 21, 1908, for instance, Rubin Goldmark discussed "Siegfried," and on February 2, 1910, Dr. Toyokichi Iyenaga spoke on "An Andean Tour."  Although the lectures were free, the affluent audiences were almost assuredly asked for donations.

Donations, after all, were essential in keeping the Sunshine Chapel in operation.  Groups around the city routinely held benefit activities to support it.  On April 30, 1915, for instance, The Sun reported that the students of the private Gardner School on Fifth Avenue had presented Robert Bridges's play Achilles in Scyros at the Bandbox Theatre.  "It was an annual effort of these pupils in aid of charity," said the article.   "The proceeds this year are for the benefit of the Sunshine Chapel, at 550 West Fortieth street, a mission which is seeking to relieve some of the conditions brought about by the hardships of the winter."

Children are corralled to either side to allow the photographer a clear shot of the building.  photo by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York. 

By 1913 the chapel operated an industrial school, as well.  Here local boys learned skills that would enable them to find work as adults--carpentry and metal working, for example.  On August 9 that year, the New York Herald reported that the school had 200 enrollees.

Since the building's opening, Rev. Harry Williams Murphy had been in charge of the Sunshine Chapel.  His varied experiences here prompted him to write his 1931 book, Twenty-five Years in Hell's Kitchen.

When Rev. Murphy died in 1935, the West Side Improvement Project was seeking to redevelop the squalid Hell's Kitchen neighborhood.  The following year, the Sunshine Chapel along with blocks of surrounding properties, were demolished to make way for the New York Central railroad beds.

The entire block was rubble on May 1, 1936.   In the background is Sts. Cyril & Methodius, St. Raphael Croatian Catholic Church, which survives.  photo from the collection of the New York Public Library.

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

Soon to be Lost - The Rohe & Brothers Building, 527-531 West 36th Street

photograph by Renee Stanley

In 1872 the massive Manhattan Market opened on New York's West Side.  Engulfing the block between Eleventh and Twelfth Avenues, from 34th and 35th Streets, it was the largest market building in the world--offering fresh meats (a butchery was on site), fish and produce.  It was a welcomed neighbor for Rohe & Brother, which had erected its sprawling provision packing house and lard refinery at No. 533 through 541 West 36th Street two years earlier.  Simultaneously an architecturally matching warehouse and stables building had been erected on West 35th Street.

Although a block apart, the main plant (center) and the warehouse (left) were designed to match. from the collection of the Library of Congress

In 1897 The National Provisioner noted that the packing and refinery property "has been added to a number of times...The building is a substantial one of brick, and extends from 533-543 West Thirty-sixth street, to 534-540 West Thirty-seventh street.  The abattoir [butchery] is located at the foot of Fortieth Street, North River, and occupies four lots."  Charles Rohe had died in 1888 and his son, Charles, Jr., became a member of the firm.  Charles Sr.'s other son, Julius, by now supervised the packing house and the manufacturing of goods.  Florian's sons, Albert and Oswald Rohe, worked in the store and main office.

Florian Rohe as he appeared in 1897.  The National Provisioner, January 30, 1897 (copyright expired)

The National Provisioner noted that "the secret of the success of Rohe & Bro. is the splendid business ability which characterizes its movements and the bond of fraternity which exists between employees and employers."  The Rohes recognized the importance of good employee relations and a contented staff.   A separate article in the journal reported on the 11th annual employee ball.  Many, if not most, of the factory workers were German immigrants and the event was a brilliant change to their day-to-day lives.  "The entire office staff of the house of Rohe & Bro., from the office boy to their traveler and salesman, was present, while the large force of employees, numbering many hundreds, together with their wives and sweethearts, were delighted participants in the night's proceedings, all actuated by a loyal regard for the interests of the firm."

On January 19, 1898, The Butchers' Advocate and Market Journal reported that year's ball, held in the Lexington Avenue Opera House.  "When the orchestra, led by Professor Rode, started the grand march, about 300 couples were on the floor, and these quickly fell in behind Mr. Albert Rohe and wife, who led the army of gay marchers through a series of evolutions more beautiful than any ever seen before in this city."

Two months later, on March 5, the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that George D. Bogert had sold the "old buildings" at Nos. 527 through 531 West 36th Street to Rohe & Brother for $24,750; just under $860,000 today.  The property abutted the main lard refinery and packing plant and The New York Times noted "the buyer will erect a factory on the site."

That would not happen, however, until 1902.  On March 29 that year The National Provisioner reported "Rohe & Brother now have their specifications in for their new packing house at 527-531 West 36th Street."  The firm had hired the architectural firm of Werner & Windolph to design the structure, which was projected to cost about $1.8 million in today's money.

Somewhat surprising was the architectural style of the new two-story addition.  It may have been that Charles Rohe (his uncle, Florian, was deceased by now) directed Werner & Windolph to match the old factory; or perhaps the architects themselves chose to meld the two.  Either way, the design, out of style for years, seamlessly carried on the design of the 1870 Rohe & Brother building.  Only the delicate corbel table that ran below the cornice broke ranks with the original structure.

Upon the building's completion the Rohes incorporated "the packinghouse firm of Rohe & Brothers," as reported in Industrial Refrigeration in April 1903.  The article mentioned "The company will do a general meat packing business."  It was an interesting and unusual move.  By 1908 there were three corporation names.  Charles was listed as head of Rohe & Brother;  Albert as head of Rohe Bros.; and William of Rohe & Bro.  All three, legally separate firms, were listed as "large refiners and provisions."

The sons of the firm's founders never abandoned its interest in employee contentedness.  On June 29, 1904 The Butchers' Advocate and Market Journal reported on the employee summer outing at Bachmann's Pavilion on Staten Island.  "How those Rohe & Brothers' employees did enjoy themselves!  They danced and bowled and ran races and absorbed the product of Mr. Bachmann with a strenuousness that would make a lazy man tired just to look at."

The two-story building at Nos. 527-531 held the company's offices.  Working past nightfall could be risky, given the sketchy Hell's Kitchen location and that threat came to pass on the night of January 22, 1913.  The Elmira Star-Gazette reported "Five men dashed up to Rohe & Brothers' wholesale meats, provisions and oils plant at 527-531 West 36th street, between Tenth and Eleventh avenues, last night in a taxicab and at the point of revolvers held back two inside and two outside employees of the firm."  The Morning Call of Patterson, New Jersey entitled its article "Wild West Game in New York" and began "The west side of Manhattan, where automobile holdups and robberies are not by any means unknown, experienced last night its most spectacular Wild West holdup and robbery about 7:30 o'clock."

Charles Rohe, Jr. was the principal of the firm following Florian Rohe's death. Empire State Notables, 1914 (copyright expired) 

While the employees were held at gunpoint, one of the robbers jumped over the wire cashier's cage and snatched up $700 in cash, a considerable $18,300 today.  The gang escape in the waiting taxicab and although the four employees rushed out in pursuit, they were unable to get the license plate number in the darkness.  The Elmira Star-Gazette said "None of the employees could give much of a description of the robbers, further than that all were 'tough looking,' and all wore caps."

In 1914 Rohe & Brother was, according to Chicago's The Day Book, the "largest New York provision packer."  The firm was, for instance, the major United States exporter of lard to Venezuela.  

In 1930 the Rohes sold off all the firm's property in the Hell's Kitchen neighborhood except for Nos. 527-531 West 36th Street.  The Sun explained on May 6 that year that the building was still used as Rohe & Brother's executive offices.  But that would not last long, either.

Architect William H. Fuhrer renovated the building in 1936 for the bottling plant of milk dealer Hershey Farms, Inc.   It was run by Max Doner, who chose not to use union employees for its delivery drivers.  It was a daring decision at a time when unions used strong-arm tactics to force businesses to comply with their demands.

A 1940 tax photograph reveals the ground floor changes for Hersey Farms, including an architecturally disparate pedimented entrance.  The main Rohe & Brother plant has been demolished.  photo via NYC Department of Records & Information Services.

On March 19, 1942 nine labor leaders, involved with the International Brotherhood of Teamsters, Chauffeurs, Warehousemen & Helpers of America, Local 445, were indicted on extortion.   The New York State prosecutor charged that between December 1935 and November 1940 the defendants "feloniously, wrongfully, willfully and extorsively obtained the sum of $7,125.00" from Max Doner "by the wrongful use of force and fear induced by threats" to injure both him personally and the property of Hershey Farms, and to induce strikes.

Hershey Farms remained here until 1959 when the building was once again renovated, this time for a storage warehouse.  In 1970 it was converted for use by Scheuman Lumber.   A later occupant was Steven & Francine's Complete Automotive Repair Inc. who shared the building with its owner, the Convention Center Hardware & Supplies, LLC. 

By 2012 the once gritty district had been discovered by developers and the upscale Hudson Yards project, formerly unthinkable, was on the table.   The old Rohe & Brother  building sat within the four-acre Hudson Park and Boulevard project--Phase II of the larger Hudson Yards development.

The buildings at the right of this photo have all been demolished, stranding the Rohe & Brothers building as in a wasteland.  photo via Commercial Observer, November 2012.

Faced with eventual eminent domain Convention Center Hardware and Supplies placed it on the market in November 2012 for $10 million.

Any architectural historian who might pass the vacant and boarded up building today would date its construction at around 1870; not knowing that its anachronistic design was based on its 32-year old next-door neighbor.  But they would have to be quick.  The unlikely survivor has a short life expectancy.

many thanks to Renee Stanley for prompting this post

The West 60th Street "Interior Baths" -- No. 232 West 60th Street

As the 19^th century drew to a close and the city’s poor crowded into cramped tenements, the problem of bathing was increasingly serious.  In the Lower East Side in 1896 there was one bathtub for every 79 families.

Half a century earlier the public had demanded action by the city.  By the time of the Civil War middle- and upper-class families in New York had begun bathing regularly, as the Europeans did.  But the lower classes had no means to bathe.  By 1858 the Committee for Free Public Baths had been formed, but nothing would be done about the situation for decades.

Even after the New York Senate passed a law on April 21, 1895 requiring that all first and second class cities create free public bathing facilities, Manhattan's citizens would continue using the "floating baths" at the river banks.  The city's first "interior bath" did not open until 1901; governmental red tape miring the process.  

New Yorkers at a typical floating bath.  Domestic Engineer, October 19, 1912 (copyright expired)

Following the opening of the Rivington Street baths on the Lower East Side that year, the project gained momentum.  On November 24, 1903 plans were filed for two new interior baths at Nos. 538 and 430 East 11th Street, and Nos. 232 and 234 West 60th Street.  Both would cost the city $115,000 to build--more than $3 million in 2017 dollars. 

While the Upper West Side above the 60s was still a relatively new district with, mostly, fine homes and modern amenities; the neighborhood chosen for the baths was decidedly gritty.  Known as San Juan Hill (the origin of the nickname is unclear), it was a dangerous and crime-ridden area  mostly populated by poverty-stricken blacks.

Architects Werner & Windolph designed the structure, which reminded the visitor of the ancient Roman history of public baths.  Essentially Beaux Arts, the facade was splashed with ancient Roman elements.  Classical entrances--one for men and the other for women--were capped by triangular pediments.  The large arched openings exhibited Roman-style cross-hatching, and ancient boats overflowing with gruesome sea beasts carved from limestone protruded at the top of the rusticated brick piers.

Men entered on the left, women on the right.  Domestic Engineer, October 19, 1912 (copyright expired)

Perhaps surprisingly, given the seamy neighborhood, extra expense went into the elaborate brickwork--Flemish bond on the first floor, herringbone panels below the openings, and intricate diapering that resulted in a diamond pattern effect.

When the building was later extended through the block to West 59th Street, Werner & Windolf gave that elevation a starkly-different neo-Tudor facade that smacked of a firehouse.

The West 60th Street Interior Baths was remarkably different than its predecessors--it contained a plunge, or what today would be called a swimming pool.  Earlier, bathtubs and plunges had been prohibited for health purposes.

The pool here measured 66 feet by 25 feet with a sloping bottom that ran from three feet deep to seven.  Even more remarkable, according to Domestic Engineering, it was heated to a temperature of between 70 and 75 degrees.  It was open to men and women on alternating nights.

Although the atmosphere of the "plunge" was rather utilitarian, it was nonetheless an innovation.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The Christian Advocate, in remarking on the trend of public baths on July 25, 1912 reported "This bath is noted for its great swimming pool, the tank of which holds 85,000 gallons of water, every drop of which is filtered, and no bather is permitted to enter the plunge without first taking a precautionary shower.  Thus there is small danger of contamination, and it is as clean as any private bath tub."  The water was completely changed three times a day.

The West 60th Street Interior Baths became, because of the pool, not merely a place for bathing, but for fun and athletics.  "The pool is largely patronized by the boys from neighboring schools," said The Christian Advocate, "who enter into all manner of water contests, and perform some truly remarkable 'stunts,' as, seated upon imaginary horses, which are in reality barrels having wooden heads attached, and gaily decked out in colored calico trappings, they dash back and forth in the water, using long poles to steady themselves, evading attacks and thrust, and boy who remains longest upon his mount of course winning the contest."

Patrons entered directly into waiting rooms where they sat on long benches awaiting their turn.  Also on the first floor were "bath cabinets," or showers.  Tiny dressing rooms contained hooks for clothing and a small marble seat.  Originally, soap and towels were provided "at a minimal charge;" but when  housewives made a habit of pinning the towels inside their skirts and spiriting them home, the practice was halted.

The Sun reported on the success of the interior baths project on July 15, 1906.  Its description of the West 60th Street facility can only be described today as shockingly racist.   "Best of all the present interior bathhouses is that at West Sixtieth street between Amsterdam and Eleventh avenues.  It is the newest of the half dozen in operation, and when it was opened the public bath officials thought it would prove a resort for the colored population that congregates thereabouts.

"Instead of that, it is rare to see one person of color there.  The bath is patronized principally by Hebrews and Italians, with the former in the lead.  Bath records show the Hebrew to be the best patron of the New York public baths, with the Italian a fairly good second."

Operating the baths was not inexpensive.  The City paid a total of $21,825 in salaries and wages for the 60th Street staff in 1910--more than half a million dollars in 2017.  But the outlay paid for more than public cleanliness and boys having a good time.  For years the pool would be the venue for public school swimming meets and for money-producing exhibitions.

One of those exhibitions caused extreme disappointment.  On April 29, 1907 Annette Kellermann, the world championship Australian swimmer, was to appear here.  But she was a no-show.

The New York Times reported "A large number of spectators, among whom were many women, had assembled and they waited patiently until nearly 11 o'clock, when the announcement that Miss Kellerman had apparently changed her plans ended their weary waiting around the tank."

To mollify the crowd, an impromptu 60-yard swimming race had been put on, and Paul Roetger, former fancy diving champion of Germany showed off his talents.  In an unexpected breach of Edwardian deportment, the restless crowd "amused itself by jeering the swimmers."

Annette Kellermann made up for the offense by appearing a month later.  Making a point that she "will give exhibitions in only four or five American cities," she appeared on May 4.  The Times announced the day before that a "special programme has been arranged for the evening."

Annette Kellerman attempted to swim the English Channel in 1905, two years before appearing here.  from the collection of the State Library of New South Wales.

In 1912 at least 1,400 bathers, "mostly young boys," according to The Sun, went to the pool daily.  The open dressing rooms with the exposed hooks for clothing proved easy pickings for thieves.  On July 16 the newspaper noted that thefts "have become so common that the attendants make no attempt to keep count of them."

A. B. Carman, a teacher in the Y.M.C.A. on West 125th Street returned to his compartment to find that not only had his $95 been taken, so had his trousers.  The Sun complained "If there is no money they take a garment or a pair of shoes."

The City was aware of the problem and that same month the Record and Guide announced that bids were being taken for "construction and erection of new doors to all shower rooms, tub rooms and dressing compartments."

The baths continued to host swimming contests for years.  On January 25, 1920, for instance, The Sun reported "The 100 yard metropolitan swimming championship for women, scheduled to be held in the Interior Bath at Sixtieth street" would launch the 1920 season "in water sports for mermaids."

Another champion to visit was Hungarian-born American swimmer Johnny Weissmuller.  In announcing the Municipal Athletic Activities' swimming meet scheduled for March 31, 1922, The New York Herald promised "One of the features of the occasion will be the appearance of John Weissmuller, the season's swimming marvel and world's title holder."

Despite his astonishing career as a championship swimmer, Weissmuller would be remembered as Tarzan. from the collection of the Library of Congress.

Although he was one of the world's fastest swimmers in the 1920s, earning five Olympic gold medals; he would be better remembered for his screen role as Tarzan, starting in 1932.

Another Olympic champion who had no doubt used the pool was Gertrude Ederle.  Born nearby, her father ran a butcher shop on Amsterdam Avenue, according to her biography America's Girl.  Following her successful swim across the English Channel in 1926 (a feat which eluded Annette Kellermann 11 years earlier), the girl from a humble Upper West Side home was given a ticker tape parade on Broadway.

Gertrude Ederle, the "Queen of the Waves," received a parade down the Canyon of Heroes on August 27, 1926.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

By the time of the Great Depression the West 60th Street Interior Bath had suffered from constant use.  The Works Progress Administration closed the building in June 1938 for renovations.  The project not only provided necessary updating and repair, but gave jobs to unemployed workers.  It was most likely at this time that the Men's entrance was removed; its scar seamlessly hidden.

The renovated pool was used for a combined effort by the Department of Parks, the United Merchant Seamen's Service, and the Seamen's Church Institute in 1943.  The New York Times reported on February 20, "A learn-to-swim campaign for merchant seamen will be started tomorrow," and noted "The three agencies urged every seaman to learn this live-saving art, and pointed out there would be no charge for admission...or for instruction."

In 2013 the West 60th Street bath building opened after extensive renovations as the Gertrude Ederle Recreation Center, including an addition to the east designed by Belmont Freeman.  The last relic of early 20th century architecture on the block, the original facade survives handsomely intact.

photographs by the author