Showing posts with label west 44th street. Show all posts
Showing posts with label west 44th street. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 14, 2026

The 1933 Independent Theatre Owners Bldg - 341 West 44th Street



An article in the "Vaudeville" section of The Billboard on May 6, 1933, announced that the Independent Theatre Owners' Protective Association "expect to open their new offices soon at 341 West 44th street."  Recently formed by independent motion picture theater owners, the organization sought to protect them from the already powerful film distributors and large theater circuits.

The group's new headquarters were in a recently completed, three-story building just blocks away from the country's entertainment epicenter--Times Square.  Designed by Raymond Irrera for the 341 West 44th Street Corporation, it straddled the Art Deco and Art Moderne styles.

The ground floor was dominated by a modern arcade show window.  Its vast plate glass panels, sitting upon a polished black base, were trimmed in thin strips of chrome.  Nestled behind the storefront were two entrances, one accessing the store and the other the offices above.

Irrera sandwiched the two upper floors between matching terra cotta friezes of Art Deco zigzags and rondels.  He used starkly contrasting white and black brick to create the Art Moderne design of the second and third floors.  The resulting economy of materials during the difficult Depression years worked.  Construction cost the syndicate $15,000 to erect, or about $373,000 in 2026 terms.

The ground floor space was taken by the Amusement Supply Co., Inc.  It catered to the nearby legitimate theaters by offering set design and construction, lighting, and equipment.

The Independent Theatre Owners Association had barely settled into their new home when trouble ensued.  In June 1933, President Franklin D. Roosevelt established the National Recovery Administration to stimulate economic recovery.  On November 10, it filed a $1 million suit "on the ground of alleged violation," reported The New York Times.  Calling the Independent Theatre Owners Association and a co-defendant "an alleged 'company union,'" the suit charged that they "signed the re-employment agreement to better business conditions by hiring more men, increasing wages and cutting working house to thirty-five hours a week."  Instead, they "cut staffs in half, reduced pay and increased the working week to fifty-two hours."  The two organizations were ordered to pay "sums ranging from $1,294 to $5,499 for crews of from four to eight men."

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The drastic decline of independently owned motion picture houses at midcentury prompted the closing of the Independent Theatre Owners Association.  It was gone from 341 West 44th Street as early as 1940.  The Amusement Supply Co., Inc. still occupied the storefront that year.  A theatrical printing firm, New Process Program Corp. occupied the second floors.  It produced programs, banners on oilcloth, full-sized lobby cutouts of motion picture stars, and lobby posters.  Upstairs was Eldridge Enterprises, Inc.  Its cryptically worded help wanted ad on November 3, 1940 gave no hint of the firm or its dealings:

Attention Salesmen:  Big Commissions.  Proven Plan for Retail merchants to increase sales.  Write for particulars.  Eldridge Enterprises, Inc. 341 West 44th St., New York.

The Tops Employment Agency occupied space here as early as 1961.  On July 6 that year, Mayor Robert Wagner ordered penalties against the firm.  The New York Times reported that it was "accused of 'petty chiseling' against domestic workers they had brought to the city."

A renovation in 1991 resulted in a "eating and drinking establishment" on the second floor, and by 1996 the Trilogy Theatre Group operated downstairs.  It presented plays like Louise Page's Tissue, a drama about a woman's struggle with breast cancer, in April 1996, and Kevin Doyle's Styrofoam, about the Stampede Theater Festival, staged here in January 2004.  That production was among the group's last.  The Trilogy Theatre closed later that year.

Luthier Music Corp. replaced the theater.  It sold guitars, sheet music, and Luthier-made guitar strings, among other related goods.  The store would occupy the space for a decade, moving out in 2014.


The handsome little building sat empty for years before being purchased by the Buddha's Light International Association.  The group announced plans to construct the Buddha's Light Cultural Center on the site.  But that scheme got derailed.  In May 2026, the group sold the property "to a fashion executive," according to Crain's New York.  Its fate is unknown at the time of this writing.

photographs by the author

Friday, October 2, 2026

Abortion, Murder and Kindness--347-351 West 44th Street


 
By the last quarter of the 19th century, the Hell's Kitchen district was "one of the most miserable and crime-polluted neighborhoods in this City," according to The New York Times.  On September 18, 1892, a police sergeant told the newspaper, "You were always on the defensive and carried your life in your hand if you made the streets safe for decent people.  If you chose to skulk and let the hoodlums have their own way, you were a good fellow, and never wanted for a cigar or a drink, and I have heard that some officers profited to a greater extent by being discreetly deaf, dumb, and blind."

But certain developers attempted to upgrade the neighborhood by erecting decent tenement buildings.  Five months before The New York Times article, William F. Rorack purchased the old Eagle Brewery property on West 44th Street between Eighth and Ninth Avenues.  On February 18, 1892, The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide reported that he would build eight "five-story brown stone flats"--five at 345 to 353 West 44th Street and the three others directly behind them on West 45th Street.

This photograph of the Eagle Brewery complex was taken in 1892, just before William Rorack demolished the buildings.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society.

The buildings were completed before the year's end.  Faced in brownstone and designed as a blend of R0manesque Revival and Renaissance Revival styles, they were nearly identical--their details varying only in the stone carvers' creativity.  Each entrance was flanked by layered columns, the front panels of which were decorated with elaborate Renaissance Revival carvings.  A single Corinthian capital capped the hybrid columns.

At some point, an Art Deco-style entrance door, in stark contrast to the 19th century architecture, was installed at No. 351.

The second floors were faced in vermiculated, rusticated stone.  The windows at this level were enhanced with bold, carved voussoirs.  The openings of the third and fourth floors were embraced by molded arches, each of the outer examples capped with individual mascarons, or portrait keystones.  The top floor windows were separated by paneled Corinthian piers.

Finely executed mascarons cap the outer windows of the fourth floor.

The buildings filled with working class families, their economic status reflected in position-wanted ads.  On December 4, 1892, for instance, an advertisement in The New York Times read, "Butler--By thoroughly competent, sober, and industrious man in private family; best recommendations from last employer.  Address Galbrun, 347 West 44th St."  

Among Galbrun's neighbors in the building that year was Charles H. Paulding.  The elderly man had an illustrious military background.  A veteran of the War of 1812, his maternal grandfather, Isaac F. Russell, had been aide-de-camp to Major General Morgan Lewis in the Revolutionary War.

A young unmarried woman who found herself pregnant at the time was in serious trouble.  Affluent women often slipped out of town on "pleasure trips" until the birth.  Residents of Hell's Kitchen, on the other hand, did not have that option.

Alice Whitney, who lived at 351 West 44th Street, worked as a stenographer and typist in a downtown lawyer's office.  The Evening World described her as "said to possess remarkable beauty and intelligence."  In January 1893, she sought the services of Dr. Gray-Blinn (who also practiced under the names of Blinn, Gray and Smith).  Two years earlier, in January 1891, he was arrested for performing an abortion.  Out on bail, he and his wife fled to Sweden.  Because the patient recovered, no charges were pressed and Gray-Blinn returned to New York City.

Gray-Blinn botched the abortion on Alice Whitney, leaving her in a precarious condition.  On January 20, the New York Herald reported that the physician "was arrested last Sunday, charged with performing a criminal operation."  He was released on $3,000 bail (about $110,000 in 2026).  The article said, "It is reported that Miss Whitney's condition is steadily improving."

But at a time when infection and internal injuries were less well understood than today, the 22-year-old's condition soon worsened.  On February 7, The Evening World reported that the coroner had been notified that "Miss Alice Whitney was suffering from the results of malpractice at 351 West Forty-fourth street, and would probably die before night."  

The following day, the New-York Tribune reported that Alice had died in her apartment.  The article said she had not revealed the name of "her betrayer" (the man who had impregnated her).  On the same day, The Evening World headlined an article, "Dr. Gray-Blinn Has Fled."

At least three of the residents of the row found a less arduous way of making a living than domestic work or physical labor.  An advertisement in the New York Journal on September 17, 1896 read, "Professor Fred Carlson.  Spiritualist, medium; magnetic treatment; good helper.  351 West 44th st."  Four months later, on January 11, 1897, an advertisement in the same newspaper offered, "New Year well begun by consulting Wanetha; she is the ladies' favorite, 351 West 44th st."  And on October 15, 1899, an ad in the New York Journal and Advertiser read, "Mme. Ross, palmist, seventh daughter; naturally gifted; 25 cents.  347 West 44th st., one flight up, back."

Cora Walters, who had a former husband and two children in Philadelphia, occupied a four-room apartment at 347 West 44th Street as early as 1912.  A waitress, she rented one of her two bedrooms to James Lord and his wife.  The 44-year-old Cora had a drinking problem.  On September 26, 1912, according to The Evening World, she "had been treated for alcoholism."  

Around the same time, Raymond Murphy temporarily moved in.  (It is unclear where he slept, since the apartment had only two bedrooms.)  Now a painter, Murphy had previously been a professional pitcher with the Philadelphia National League.

At around 6:00 on the morning of October 4, 1912, Murphy and Lord told two policemen that they had just found Cora Walters's body in her bedroom.  The officers quickly became suspicious about "the many bruises on the body of the dead woman," as reported by The Evening World.  The Lords explained them, according to The New York Times, by saying that Cora "had been drinking heavily for three weeks, and the bruises were caused by falls."

Coroner Holtzhauser, however, was not so sure.  He told reporters, "The bruises on the body were not more than six hours old and do not look to me as if they could have been caused by fall."  He added that Cora was found on her back with her right hand raised "as if to ward off a blow."  The Brooklyn Daily Eagle noted, "according to the police...several suit cases and the contents, consisting of papers, were found strewn about the room."

Holtzhauser had the Lords and Murphy detained and he ordered an autopsy.  The results were apparently inconclusive and no arrests were made.

Joseph Farrell, who was a laborer, lived at 351 West 44th Street at the time of the incident.  In April 1913, he "was hit with a blackjack," according to the New-York Tribune.  After the incident he started "acting strangely."  Farrell's unusual behavior climaxed on the night of July 11.  At around 6:00, he went on a rampage, "wrecking his own apartment with a sledge hammer," then running through the hallway, smashing the doors of other apartments.  Farrell's next door neighbor, Christopher Bauer, tackled him in the hallway.

The New-York Tribune reported, "Policeman Seiffert found the two struggling, but Farrell wrenched himself free and struck Bauer and Seiffert down, and ran into his apartment and locked the door."  As Seiffert and Bauer broke in the door, they heard a horrific crash.  The article said, "Farrell had jumped through a window without raising the sash."  The frenzied man landed in the rear yard and suffered a fractured skull.

The passing decades did not lessen the problems of residents along the row.  Anita Sobotina and Sophie Pelansky, two members of a Russian ballet troupe, lived at 351 West 44th Street on June 20, 1916 when they were arrested for shoplifting items of silk lingerie in a Broadway store.  

Stephen Moniodes, a busboy in Janssen's Hofbrau restaurant, lived in the building ten years later.  On March 14 1926, he was arrested after he grabbed a carving knife and terrorized a dozen employees in the kitchen, "shouting he would kill everybody present," according to The New York Times.  Several cooks managed to force him into a closet and call the police.  The article said, "He was taken to the psychopathic ward at Bellevue suffering from temporary derangement."


Jack Gentle, who lived in No. 351, worked as a waiter in a restaurant.  Unfortunately for him, it was also a speakeasy.  On February 11, 1927, he was arrested when the basement restaurant was raided by Prohibition agents.  And on March 15, 1935, resident Fred M. Melton was arrested for "stealing government checks" and cashing them.  Secret Service agent Alan G. Straight called him, "one of the cleverest forgers in the country."

Not all the residents of the row were, of course, on the wrong side of the law.  A touching letter arrived at The New York Times's Hundred Neediest Cases Fund on December 15, 1924 from A. Perez, who lived at 349 West 44th Street.  Written in broken English, his note read:

I send.  I have nothing but this money that could save from weekly salary.  My gift will be smallest among the others but best-intentioned.  I have heartbroken for not to any more to cause because I am as poor as they are.
    Yours truly, A. Perez, 349 West Forty-fourth Street.
    Hotel Astor pantryman, this is my job.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

By the turn of the century, 351 West 44th Street was operated as a single room occupancy hotel.  Tenants reported that they paid $150 a week "for small rooms with no kitchens," according to The New York Times.  In 2004, there were several small fires in the building, according to occupants.

Another fire broke out in the fifth-floor room of Lassan Bavo on the night of January 28, 2005.  Bavo told reporters, "I took the bucket I use to wash my socks and started trying to put it out.  Then I just gathered some stuff and ran out the fire escape."

The sprinklers failed to activate and 38-year-old William Tutay, who lived two rooms away from the Bavo's, jumped from a window that opened onto the airshaft.  He landed on a "recessed area level with the basement floor," said The New York Times.  He was dead when fire fighters found him.  The fire chief remarked, "If the sprinklers worked, he would not have had to jump."

The easternmost building was demolished in 1925 and replaced later by a rather startling edifice.

No. 345 West 44th Street was demolished in 1925, and No. 353 was so drastically modernized later that it is nearly unidentifiable as one of the 1892 row.  The passing of time, however, essentially ignored the three middle buildings.  Other than replacement windows and an unexpected Art Deco entrance door at 351 West 44th Street, the exteriors of the historic tenement buildings survive nearly untouched.

many thanks to reader Tony Willging for requesting this post
photographs by the author

Thursday, March 26, 2026

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

Thursday, November 27, 2025

George G. Miller's 1931 461 West 44th Street

 

photograph by Anthony Bellov

On August 14, 1931, The New York Times reported that the New York Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church had rented the West Side Methodist Church property at 461-463 West 44th Street, just east of Tenth Avenue.  The article mentioned that the congregation, "went out of existence several years ago."  The journalist explained that the lessee, Jere Holding Corporation, "has agreed to begin the erection of a six-story apartment house within thirty days."

The West Side Methodist Church.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The syndicate organized the 461 West Forty-fourth Street Corp., and hired 38-year-old architect George Gottlieb Miller to design the structure.  Perhaps because of the ongoing Depression, his Art Deco design would rely almost exclusively on contrasting brick to create the decorative elements.

The centered, double-doored entrance was flanked with brown brick "stems" that rose to stylized cast stone unfurling ferns.  Above the geometric frame was a cast heraldic plaque.  The variegated beige brick facade of the upper floors was decorated with chevrons, diamonds, and vertical lines, all executed in brown brick.  A decorated parapet took the place of a cornice.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

The completed structure cost $100,000 to construct, or just over $2 million in 2025 terms.  The New York Society of Methodist Episcopal Church initially charged the 461 West Forty-fourth Street Corp. $4,600 per year rent.  Residents, in turn, paid rents starting at $35 per month for the small apartments with "kitchenettes."  (The least expensive monthly rent would translate to about $635 today.)

Among the early residents were newlyweds Helen and Theodore Warady, who moved into a three-room apartment following their wedding in December 1931.  Previous to her marriage, Helen worked in a dance hall.  The couple's marital bliss was extremely short lived.  Only two months later, Theodore moved out, taking a room in the Hotel Alba on West 54th Street.  On February 4, 1932, The New York Times reported that Helen, who was 27 years old, "was found dead yesterday morning in her three-room apartment at 461 West Forty-fourth Street.  She had committed suicide by gas."

Uniform canvas awnings that matched the marquee shielded damaging sunlight and heat.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The building's superintendent was German-born Anna Gunther.  Despite her gender, she was more than capable of handling problems that might arise within the still gritty neighborhood.  The New York Sun said in 1936 that she "has not quite mastered American speech but she is adept in American rough-and-tumble strong-arm methods."  Gunther's street-wise capabilities came into use on December 18, 1936.

Actress Louise Marsh occupied an apartment on the second floor.  While the 22-year-old was trying on a dress in a shop on West 46th Street at around 7:30 that evening, her purse disappeared.  The New York Sun reported, "The saleswoman said a strange girl had been in the shop a few minutes before."  Inside the purse were Louise's keys and "a check bearing her name and address."  Concerned that the thief would ransack her apartment, she borrowed $1 and sped home in a cab.

Sure enough, when she arrived, Anna Gunther said a young woman had gone into her apartment with a key.  Explaining the situation, Marsh ran to find a policeman and "Mrs. Gunther guarded the door."  Dorothy McBride came down the stairs to confront a formidable roadblock.  Gunther told reporters,

She had been taking all things, but then she say to let her out and I tell her no, she is bad girl and must wait for police, and she say she go down fire escape.  So I grab her by both arms and then hit her.  She then run to fire escape and almost jump, but I hold her by arms with her legs dangling.  It seem like half hour before Miss Marsh come with cop, but she say is only ten minutes.

The New York Sun humorously remarked, "The G men can quell a Brunette with tear-gas bombs and sub-machine guns, but thirty-eight-year-old Mrs. Anna Gunther, superintendent at 461 West Forty-fourth street, can subdue a brunette, or even a blonde, with her brawny arms."  Anna explained, "I don't smoke or drink so I'm strong.  I got to be for my work.  I carry out the ashcans when my husband is away.  I would even go after man burglar."

At the station house, Dorothy McBride (who had gathered up  "property worth several hundred dollars") initially said her name was Leisa Dean, before confessing her real name.  The New York Times said the 22-year-old was from Canada and she, "said she had been in this country but a few months."  

While it could be argued that the Depression led Dorothy McBride to a life of crime, Charlotte Hayden could not use that excuse during the World War II years.  The 28-year-old occupied an apartment here on November 19, 1944 when she was arrested for running a bookmaking operation.  As she was taken away, she told police, "I don't mind being arrested, but please don't take out my telephone."  The New York Times reported, "she used the telephone in her apartment at 461 West Forty-fourth Street to receive bets."  

photograph by Anthony Bellov

At the time of Hayden's arrest, 461 West 44th Street had been a cooperative for two years.  There are still 43 apartments in the building, although the Depression year occupants would not recognize its modern updates like laundry facilities and video security.  And despite necessary replacement windows and architecturally sympathetic security doors, George G. Miller's 1931 design survives essentially intact.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post

Wednesday, October 29, 2025

The Alexander Grant House - 426 West 44th Street

 

photograph by Anthony Bellov

Around 1860, a trio of brick-faced, Italianate style houses were erected at 274 through 278 West 44th Street.  (They would be renumbered 426 through 430 in 1865.) 
 Three bays wide and three stories tall above a brownstone basement, their elliptically arched entrances were capped with shallow pediments.  The windows wore molded cornices and miniature brackets upheld the sills.  Especially handsome cornices incorporated ornate foliate brackets and leafy fascia decorations.  The heavy Italianate ironwork included a surprising areaway gate that took the form of a giant daisy or cartwheel.

photograph by Anthony Bellov

Although the residences sat perilously close to the notorious Hell's Kitchen district, the block between Ninth and Tenth Avenues was respectable and populated with upper-middle class families.  The easternmost house, No. 274, appears to have been originally rented, based on the rapid-fire turnover of occupants.  In 1861 and '62, it was home to William Armstrong, a carpenter; coal merchant Peter Connelly; and Charlotte Pollock, who taught in the Primary Department of Public School No. 33 on West 28th Street.  (Charlotte earned $300 a year in 1862, or about $9,650 in 2025.)

In 1864, the house was home to Thomas White, who ran a slaughterhouse at 13 Abbatoir Place.  His family was followed in 1868 by Jacob Brower, a carpenter; James Avent, a driver; and Joseph Burns, who worked as a clerk.  Finally, in 1870, No. 426 received long-term residents when Alexander Grant purchased it.

Grant was born in Granton, Scotland in 1811.  He came to America as a young engineer with the United States Coast Survey Service.  (Formed in 1807 as the Survey of the Coast, the agency was renamed Coast Survey in 1836.   Today, as the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey, it is part of NOAA.)  By the time Grant purchased 426 West 44th Street, he operated an iron foundry, specializing in the manufacturing of railings.

The Grants had two children, a son and daughter.  By 1879, Charles A. Grant had a job as an "agent," and on January 6, 1881, was appointed a clerk in the Police Department.  He rapidly rose within the force and within three years was the private secretary to Police Commissioner Joel W. Mason.

On April 14, 1884, The New York Times reported, "Alexander Grant, an old business man of this city, and an active Republican worker in the Seventeenth Assembly District, died yesterday of paralysis of the heart, at his residence, No. 426 West Forty-fourth-street."  His funeral was held in the parlor on April 15.

The original entrance doors survive.  Originally they most likely held acid-etched glass.  photograph by Anthony Bellov

The Grants sold 426 West 44th Street to John Crawford and his wife, the former Rachel Rylie.  Born in 1825 and 1834 respectively, he and his wife had two daughters, Elizabeth J. and Matilda A.  Elizabeth was a teacher in the primary department of Grammar School No. 17 on West 47th Street in 1892.  

Sharing the house with the Crawfords starting around 1895 was Rev. Homer H. Wallace.  Born in 1854, Wallace graduated from Princeton University in 1881.  Living with the Crawford family was highly convenient, since he was pastor of the West Forty-Fourth St. United Presbyterian Church just steps away to the west.  

John Crawford died in the house on October 30, 1903 at the age of 78, and his funeral was held in the parlor on November 2nd.  

Rachel took in additional boarders, apparently only one at a time.  They were often elderly widows, some remaining with the family until their deaths.  On March 3, 1911, for instance, Mary A. Mains, the widow of Robert Mains, died at the age of 85; and on February 14, 1914, Isabelle Josephine Simon died.  Their funerals were held in the Crawfords' parlor.

After living here for three decades, Rachel Rylie Crawford died on May 6, 1921 at the age of 87.  Her funeral (nearly a week later on May 12) would be the last to be held in the house.  About this time, Rev. Wallace was taken to a private nursing home in Washington, Connecticut, where he died at the age of 84 on July 13, 1938.

Two decades after her mother's death, on May 28, 1941, The New York Times reported that Matilda A. Crawford had sold 426 West 44th Street.  The article noted, "This is the first sale of the property in fifty-four years.

The original ironwork was intact in 1941.  Close inspection reveals the marvelous, giant daisy gate.  Rev. Wallace's church is at the right.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The new owner, described by the newspaper as "an investor," operated the house as rented rooms.  Among the residents in 1941 were Frank W. Kerr, who received his insurance brokage license that year; and the Prosser family.  

On the night of November 15, The New York Times reported, 

Two boys, found cowering in a clump of bushes in back of 65-83 Fitchett Street, West Forest Hills, Queens, last night were arrested as the burglars who had broken in the home of Mrs. Wilhelmina Smith...shortly before, and had fled with jewelry after they had been surprised in the house.  

In their pockets, police found "rings, jewelry, a watch and some unset diamonds."  The items were identified by Mrs. Smith as having been taken from her dresser.  Sixteen-year-old Frederick Prosser was one of the teens arrested.  The Times noted, "The boys said they escaped three months ago from the Parental Home at Bayonne, N. J."

Oddly, every other oval balustrade has been removed, and the hand railing replaced. photograph by Anthony Bellov

The house was sold on August 11, 1961 to Joseph L. Ennis & Co., real estate operators.  It was converted to a two-family home.  Although the masonry is painted and the once-striking ironwork mutilated (or totally replaced, in the case of the areaway fencing), the Grant house greatly retains its pre-Civil War appearance.

many thanks to historian Anthony Bellov for suggesting this post