The 1892 Hugo E. F. Jaekel House - 121 West 79th Street

In the first years of the 1890's one building project along the block of West 79th Street between Columbus and Amsterdam Avenues stood apart.  Unlike the rows of speculative houses that were being constructed, No. 121 was a "one-of," commissioned by wealthy furrier Hugh E. F. Jaekel for his own residence.

In 1891 he hired the architectural firm of William Schickel & Co. to design the 25-foot wide four story and basement home.  The construction costs were projected at $30,000--or around $870,000 in today's money.  Completed the following year, the architects had deftly blended beige Roman brick with brownstone in creating the Renaissance Revival house.

A brownstone stoop led to the double-doored entrance below an impressive wrought iron fanlight.  Carved Celtic-inspired braid framed the doorway.  A two-story angled bay supported a third-floor balcony which was protected by a creative pierced brownstone railing.  The panels below the bay's second floor windows morphed into a solid-walled balcony over the entrance.

Converted to a window today, the doorway retains its original wrought iron fanlight and delicate carving.

Each of the three arched windows of the third floor were trimmed in brownstone with a scrolled keystone.  The fourth floor openings, arranged as an arcade, sat upon a  wave-crest carved cornice and were separated by engaged fluted Ionic columns.  An ornate pressed metal cornice completed the design.

Hugo Jaekel was a partner in the furrier business of Asch & Jaeckel at No. 22 Waverly Place.  He and his wife, Elizabeth, were married in 1874 and had five sons.  In 1898 Jaekel broke ties with Asch and organized Jaeckel & Sons furrier business at No. 37 Union Square with a branch office in Leipsig, Germany.  Three of his sons were involved in the business.   The other two were still attending Williams College.  (Interestingly, his former partner, Joseph Asch, erected the Asch Building near Washington Square which would be the scene of the horrific Triangle Shirtwaist fire in 1911.)

In the first weeks of 1904 the family should have been focused on the upcoming wedding of Hugo Francis, Jr.  But domestic troubles between his parents took center stage instead.  Hugo, Sr. had moved out of the 79th Street house and now Elizabeth sued for divorce.  On January 6 The Evening World ran a headline: "Wealthy Furrier Sued By His Wife."  The article detailed Elizabeth's charges, saying that "on certain dates in September the defendant lived with another woman at the St. George apartments, No. 226 West Fiftieth street.  The defendant's answer does not dispute the charge."

The newspaper reported that Hugo was "worth $250,000," nearly $7.5 million today.  He confided to a reporter that he wished the issue would simply go away.  "I am in hopes that this will go no further, and I have been informed by my three sons, who work with me, that their mother may drop the proceedings."

Hugo, Jr.'s marriage went on as scheduled.    On May 3, 1904 the New-York Tribune reported "About four hundred guests attended the wedding of Hugo Francis Jaeckel, jr., and Miss Ethel Colden Trady, which took place last Saturday in All Angels' Church."  The article avoided the socially-uncomfortable elephant in the room by making no mention of either Hugo or Elizabeth.

The following month Elizabeth was granted her divorce, which came with $80 a week in alimony (about $28,500 per year today).  Interestingly, the title to the 79th Street house was not in Elizabeth's name, as would have been expected.  Hugo retained possession and in 1906 leased it the Rev. James W. Putnam for five years at $3,000 rent.  The lease had a 15-year renewal option at $3,500 per year.

Putnam operated No. 121 as an upscale boarding house.  His advertisement in April that year read "High class private boarding; newly furnished; summer rates."

Rev. Putnam was now retired from religious life.  He had served as the pastor of the First Baptist Church in Cortland, New York from 1880 to 1885, and upon arriving in New York City was made pastor of Trinity Baptist Church on 57th Street near Lexington Avenue.

In 1907 Putnam leased rooms to Civil War veteran Colonel Joseph Ernest Dye and his wife.  The apparently respectable couple lived in the house for three years.  Reverend Putnam found himself in court on November 13, 1911 where lawyers and a judge hoped his testimony could shed some light onto the Colonel's tangled romantic affairs.

Mrs. Susan Elson Dye had applied for a divorce--however she was not the wife Dye had been living with in the 79th Street house.  According to the 75-year old woman, she had married Colonel Dye in 1865, two years after her first husband, William H. Dukehart, had divorced her.  She married Dye, she said, despite a stipulation in the divorce decree that "she was forbidden to marry again."  According to her, they lived together for more than 40 years, separating in 1907, just before Dye moved into No. 121 with his new wife.

To make things more complicated there was yet a third Mrs. Dye.  The New-York Tribune added "In 1910 the Appellate Division declared the marriage void on the ground that Colonel Dye had a wife living when he married Mrs. Dukehart."  That wife was Martha Spencer.  A witness testified that in 1863 "Colonel dye, while on furlough from the war, married Martha Spencer...Colonel Dye never returned to his wife after the war, and she was killed in a railroad accident in 1883."  

As for the third woman, Susan alleged that "her aged husband 'fell under the charms of another woman,' and a boarding house keeper testified to the fact," as reported in the South Dakota newspaper, The Sisseton Weekly Standard.  On November 14 the jury ruled that, indeed, Susan was Dye's rightful wife and granted her a divorce.  They did not support her charges that "the elderly soldier was guilty of misconduct" with the other woman who lived with him in the 79th Street house, according to the East Oregonian.

On June 9, 1917 the 73-year old former pastor died in the 79th Street residence from acute gastritis.  The house continued to draw high-end boarders, like Charles F. Brinkerhoff, described by the Brooklyn newspaper the Times Union as "an importer and widely recognized as an authority on furs."  The furrier had also flexed his dramatic skills.  "As an amateur he played leading roles with Clara Louise Kellogg when the Brooklyn Philomathian Society was famous."  The 63-year old died of a heart attack in the house on December 21 that year.

The Jaekel family sold No. 121 West 79th Street in June 1920 to the Iona Home Construction Co.  "The buyer is a builder, who will remodel the structure," reported the Record & Guide.  And, indeed, before the end of the year the house had been renovated into apartments.

The renovation resulted in the loss of the stoop.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

Among the early tenants was silent movie producer Herbert Brennon.  At the time the motion picture industry was split between the East Coast and Hollywood.  The West Coast community was earning a reputation of loose living, booze-fueled parties and scandal.  Following the murder of actor and director William Desmond Taylor in 1922, not long after the highly publicized scandal involving Fatty Arbuckle and the rape and manslaughter of actress Virginia Rappe, reporters visited Brennon in his apartment to get his thoughts.

Silent film director and actor Herbert Brennon lived at No. 121 in the early 1920's.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

His opinion was clear-cut.  Calling Hollywood "notorious as a center of vice," he declared "I think it would be a good thing if Hollywood were abolished."  The scandals in Hollywood, he felt, gave the entire industry a bad reputation.  But, he insisted, "Hollywood is not representative.  You don't hear of those things happening at the studios or places in the East where the motion picture people are."

Herbert Brennon's notable films were the 1924 Peter Pan, the 1926 Beau Geste, and Sorrell and Son for which he was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Director in the first Award ceremony.

Not all of the residents were as upstanding as Brennon.  In 1924 George Laruvar-Ugarte worked at the New York Public Library.  The 25-year old was a native of Ecuador.  On December 20 he was arrested for stealing rare books, some dating to the 15th century.  The book dealer he had had sold them to had become suspicious and notified police.  The crime caused them to connect him to earlier thefts from the National Geographic Society, where Laruvar-Ugarte had previously been employed.  In his room at No. 121 West 79th Street investigators found "oil paintings that had been removed from their frames, etchings and engravings."

Living here at the same time were Francis J. Ryan and his wife, Virginia.  The couple had fled to New York in 1924 from San Francisco where Francis was charged with robbery.  The Daily News reported that a "San Francisco circular described the woman who fled with him as having one wooden leg."

On Saturday night, December 5, 1925 Francis was fatally shot "in a resort" on First Avenue--a Prohibition era term that referred most likely to a speakeasy.  Two nights later a woman was pulled over for being in possession of a stolen automobile.  No one at police headquarters initially suspected that the 26-year old, who identified herself as Jean Bady, was the wanted Virginia Ryan.

"Mrs. Ryan wore a short skirt, sheer silk stockings and pumps.  She walked with the merest suggestion of a limp."  And so when she "confessed that her left leg was cork, Detective Tully of the auto squad almost collapsed."  Virginia Ryan was arrested and The Daily News entitled its article "A Poem In Wood, 'Tis World's Most Beauteous Limb!"

Despite the renovations, the stained and leaded transoms of the parlor windows survive.

Equally bizarre was the incident involving resident Saul Fernandez two years later.  On the night of January 28, 1927 the 35-year old invited a friend, Jacques Juan, and two women to his apartment.  According to Saul, at some point Jacques insulted one of the women and a fight ensued.

Before the fight was over Saul had bitten off the nose of his friend.  Juan was taken to the Knickerbocker Hospital where his condition was deemed serious.  Saul Fernandez was arrested, "accused of biting off the nose of Jacques Juan," according to the Daily News, and held on $5,000 bond "on a charge of mayhem."

Another outlandish incident happened on September 2, 1929 when Elmer Potter could not sleep.  He decided that a swim across the Hudson River and back would cure his insomnia.  The Daily News reported that "He went to the river at 79th st. took off his clothes and plopped in."  But he over-estimated his athletic prowess.  When he finally reached the New Jersey shore an hour and a half later, he was suffering with cramps in the stomach and legs.  

A watchman at the coal wharf there fished out the naked 20-year old "and he was taken to the hoosegow in a patrol wagon until clothes arrived from Manhattan."  The Daily News concluded its article saying "Elmer will try a powder the next time he has insomnia."

In 1935 Rev. Hozen Seki was sent from Los Angeles to New York City to establish the New York Buddhist Church of the Jōdo Shinshū sect.  He moved into No. 121 West 79th Street with his wife, Satomi, and their newborn son Hoken.

On June 3, 1938 The New York Post reported "The Buddhist Church, which has about 100 members here, will open its first New York temple early next month."  The article noted "Hozen Seki, who has been conducting Buddhist services at his home, 121 West Seventy-ninth Street, will be minister of the church."

Among the tenants in 1979 were actor Raphael F. Petruna.  When he was selected to sit on the highly publicized trial of patrolman William R. Phillips, accused of killing two people and attempting to kill a third in an East Side brothel that year, The New York Times noted the irony that he "once played the part of a judge."

Much of William Schickel's 1892 interior elements survive.  photos via streeteasy.com

A renovation completed in 1984 resulted in a total of 14 apartments.  Surprisingly, much of the interior details survive after nearly 120 years.

photographs by the author

The 1894 Lexington Building - 151 East 25th Street (aka 152 East 26th Street)

photograph by Beyond My Ken

New Yorkers were served by a mélange of transportation options in the 19th century--horse-drawn street cars, cable and traction cars, and elevated trains.  As the century drew to a close the numerous small firms were being rapidly consolidated as they were gobbled up by larger companies or merging.

On December 12, 1893 the Houston, the Broadway Railway and the South Ferry Railroad merged to form the Metropolitan Street Railway Company.  Five months later the Lexington Avenue, the Pavonia Ferry Railroad and the Metropolitan Cross-Town Railway were added; and later in 1895 so was the Columbus and Ninth Avenue Railroad.

By then work was well underway for a power house to serve the firm's gargantuan needs.  The site engulfed nearly the entire block between East 25th and 26th Streets, between Lexington and Third Avenues.  The well-known architectural firm of William Schicken & Co. had been commissioned to design what would be called the Lexington Building, completed early in 1896.

The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, December 14, 1895 (copyright expired)

The architects created a dignified building that looked as much like a commercial structure as a power house.   The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide called it "a monument of strength and beauty [which] marks the era of a new departure in modern and progressive building for that vicinity."  It described the "inviting facade" as being "as nearly perfect as the combination of stone, brick, steel and other fire-proof material would permit."

The Renaissance Revival style structure was clad in speckled "Pompeiian" brick and trimmed in limestone and terra cotta.  The 25th and 26th Street elevations were essentially identical, with massive arched openings at the ground floor, four-story arcades at the third through sixth floors, and regimented, symmetrical balance throughout.

Close inspection reveals exquisite details, like the thin terra cotta bands between courses of brick.

To provide interior light and ventilation the building engulfed a large court paved in white bricks.  The steam power plant itself took up only the basement and first floor levels; the upper floors were always intended to be leased as office and factory space.  And it appears that printing firms had always been anticipated as tenants.  The floors were constructed to uphold 325 pounds per square foot; easily strong enough to accommodate heavy printing presses.

And, indeed, printing and publishing firms quickly moved in.  Among the first were two bookbinding firms, Robert Rutter & Son, and William Launder.  Publisher The S. S. McClure Co. also moved its gigantic operation into the building.

New-York Tribune, December 8, 1897 (copyright expired)

Founded by Samuel Sidney McClure in 1893, McClure's Magazine was a favorite in American households.  It was noted for serializing works by respected authors like Rudyard Kipling, Robert Louis Stevenson, Willa Cather, Jack London and many others.

McClure partnered with Frank Nelson Double to form the publishing firm Doubleday & McClure, which also took space in the Lexington Building.

New-York Tribune, September 30, 1898 (copyright expired)

The tenants were not all from the publishing field.  The Hygiene Manufacturing Company made caps.  An advertisement in The World on May 23, 1897 touted the waterproof "Common-Sense" wool cap.  

Wheelmen [i.e., bicyclists], equestrians, lovers of outdoor sports, the tens of thousands who prefer to wear a cap all or a part of the time, and who have suffered from headaches, profuse perspiration and the debilitating effects of exercise under a torrid sun, will welcome with joy the announcement that inventive skill has at last come to their relief.

And in the first months of 1897 The Sterling Supply & Manufacturing Company moved its factory onto the third floor of the Lexington Building.  The firm manufactured street railway supplies like insulators, brakes, indicators and such.

By 1908 The Magazine of History was published in the building.  Its editor, William Abbott, made the newspapers in July that year when he caused an uproar on the uptown Madison Avenue street car line.  The New York Times described the elderly, bearded man as "wearing a linen jacket and carrying a Bible" when a young stock broker named John E. Irwin got on board smoking a cigarette.

Abbott commanded the conductor to expel him from the car and when he did not, the two men got into "a heated argument."  The Times said that "the whole car soon joined."  Before it was over the offending smoker had spent fifteen minutes in a patrol wagon with other prisoners, two hours in a jail cell, and another hour in the West Side Court.

The Literary Collector, October 1901 (copyright expired)

In January 1906 the New York Interborough Railway and the Metropolitan Street Railway consolidated to form the Interborough-Metropolitan Company.  A few days before, on December 30, 1905, the Record & Guide shrugged "The incident affords one more illustration of the often-repeated statement that this kind of service is a natural monopoly."

The Financial Panic of 1907 devastated the public transportation system and the company and its subsidiaries went into receivership until 1912 when they were turned over to the control of the Interborough Consolidated Corporation.

The changes were being seen within the Lexington Building.  On April 21, 1909 The Horseless Age reported on the establishment of The Lexington Garage which "occupies part of the ground floor of the Lexington Building...The balance of the building is used for lofts and as an electric power station, which formerly occupied the entire ground floor."  The Lexington Garage was used "only for the storage of electric commercial vehicles, and is operated by the New York Transportation Company in connection with its taxicab garage."

In the meantime, printing and related firms continued to operate from the upper floors.  Lithographers Seiter & Kappes were in the building by 1900 and The Schweinler Press was here by 1904.  Pfister Book Binding Co. was listed in the Lexington Building as early as 1912.

Giant terra cotta roundels fill the spandrels between the ground floor arches.

The year 1913 saw major tenants move in, including The Publishers' Weekly and printing firm Andrew H. Kellogg Company.  The Publishers' Weekly had been at the same location downtown for around 40 years.   Now an agreement between the two firms meant that Kellogg would be doing the printing of Publishers' Weekly.  The two firms shared the sixth floor of the Lexington Building.

Also moving in that year was the embossing firm Walcutt Brothers, which took the third floor, and Stuart Specialty Co., which took the fourth.  Another large publishing and printing house to take space was Frank A. Munsey, publisher of the New York Press, Argosy Magazine and inexpensive novels.

At the time New York City, along with nearby areas like Brooklyn and northern New Jersey, was the center of the silent film industry.  In August 1918 the Famous Players-Lasky Corp. leased the fifth floor of the Lexington Building.  The Record & Guide noted it "will use the premises as headquarters for the distribution of advertising matter."

The New York Herald, January 8, 1922 (copyright expired)

In 1925 Charles Schweisler Press purchased the building.  Among the tenants it inherited was the Walker Engraving Company which had occupied the seventh floor for years.  In 1915 Walker Engraving Company had employed a staff of 85 men.  The shop was the scene of a terrifying accident on April 13, 1926.

The New York Sun reported "One workman was slightly injured and some 500 employees of various firms in the building were sent scurrying to the street to-day when acid exploded in the chemical room of the Walker Engraving Company."  Luckily David Levin only suffered burns on his left hand and the fire which resulted from the explosion was quickly put out.  

The former loading dock on East 25th Street still bears the name The Lexington Building.  photograph by Tdorante10

The Walker Engraving Company would remain in the building into the 1940's.  Another firm occupying space in the building in the Depression years was the Ever Ready Label Corporation.  Its president, Sidney Hollander, made a kind gesture to the employees in December 1936 when, according to the New York Post, he announced "that the company would make each employee a Christmas gift of his share of the society security tax for the coming year."

Telecom Plus operated from the Lexington Building following its formation in 1983.  Its tenancy would be short-lived, however.  On September 12, 1986 The New York Times announced that Baruch College would acquire "the historic Lexington Building" among other property purchases.  Baruch's director of campus planning and facilities said that $50 million would be spent "to renovate the Lexington Building, which is to house the college's library, computer center and administrative offices for student groups."

The initial report developed by architects Davis Brody & Associates alarmed some because of its mention of possible "additional stories."  Jack Taylor, in a letter to the editor of The New York Times on May 14, 1989 warned that adding additional stories would "rob the building of its architectural and historic significance."  If that part of the report was ever seriously considered, it was soon dropped.

The 26th Street elevation is essentially a duplicate of the 25th.

William Schickel & Co.'s handsome 1894 power plant is today home to the Baruch's William and Anita Newman Library.  Its facade has been gently restored and the conversion from commercial to educational use sympathetically executed.

non-credited photographs by the author

non-credited photographs by the author

The Nicholas and Agnes Benziger House - 345 Edgecombe Avenue

In the late 1880's a cable street railway along Tenth Avenue (later Amsterdam Avenue) was extended past 125th Street as far as 155th Street.  Already popular for its refreshing air and bucolic scenery, the district was now much more convenient to the downtown commercial district.  Real estate values soared around 1890 as mansions and villas rose along the tree-lined streets of what would be called Sugar Hill.

On March 5, 1890 Nicholas C. Benziger and his wife, the former Agnes Stoffel, purchased the large lot (62 by 100 feet) at the northwest corner of West 150th Street and Edgecombe Avenue from James and Ella Montieth.  The price was $32,000--a substantial $911,000 today.  And there were conditions attached to the deal:  not only did the Benzigers have to make improvements like installing curbs and sidewalks, but a deed restriction required that only a "first class dwelling" be erected on the site and it could be used only as a private residence for no less than 20 years.

The Benzigers chose German-born architect William Schickel to design their home.  His plans, filed on June 13, 1890, called for a two-story  and attic brick dwelling to cost $25,000; bringing the couple's total outlay for the project up to $1.62 million in today's dollars.

Benziger could well afford it.  He was the head of the New York office of the Swiss-based Benziger Brothers, established in the United States in 1853.  Beginning solely as a Catholic publishing house, the firm additionally began manufacturing and importing church furniture and "sacred vessels," like chalices, in 1864 .

Nicholas had arrived in New York in 1880 at the age of 21 following the death of his cousin, J. N. Adelrich, who had run the New York operation.  He briefly returned to Switzerland in 1883 to marry Agnes.   By now the company had an office in Cincinnati and another in Chicago.

Construction on the residence began in September 1890 and was completed within nine months.  Schickel's eclectic design made ample use of color and shapes--like the variegated ironspot brick trimmed in warm brownstone, an unusual flared mansard roof shingled in clay tiles, and pointy-gabled dormers.  The first floor openings were filled with leaded and stained glass.  A nearly full-width porch, supported by granite pillars, provided awe-inspiring views to the east.

original source unknown

Nicholas and Agnes moved in with their two-year old son, Xavier.  The family would increase within the house with the addition of Anna, Bernard, Rosalie and Alfred.

In the meantime, Benziger continued to grow the family's business.  In 1894 he moved the factory to Brooklyn, and according to the Catalogue of All Catholic Books in English, "There, with greater facilities, they began the production of large goods, such as pulpits, altar-rails, gas and electric fixtures, etc., etc."

With subway service scheduled to reach the area in 1904, plans for apartment buildings were being laid.  It may have been these anticipated changes that prompted Benziger to march into the office of the Tax Commissioners on January 20, 1903 to demand a reduction in his property assessment.  He left disappointed.  The New-York Tribune reported that his "personal assessment of $60,000 remained after his talk with one of the commissioners,  Mr. Benziger not being able to satisfy the commissioner that he should be relieved of any part of it."  

The changes in the neighborhood did not prompt the family to leave; at least not right away.  In 1905 there were four servants living in the house--an egalitarian spread of one American, one French-born, and two Germans.  

But as plans were laid for six-story apartment buildings in the immediate vicinity of the Benziger house, it became too much.  Although they retained possession of the Edgecombe Avenue property, the family relocated to Summit, New Jersey.  The house was initially leased to German-born machinist William Buchler, his wife and three sons.

When a "trifling" fire occurred in the house on January 17, 1909, the occupant was listed by the New York Herald as Joseph P. McHugh.  He shared the house with his business partner, James Slater.  Real estate operators, they were routinely listed as erecting or renovating properties either together, as J. P. McHugh & Co., or individually.

By 1917, when illustrator and cartoonist Harry Grant Dart first appears at the address, the Benzigers may have had more than one tenant--albeit all respectable and well-established.  Dart, who was born in Williamsport, Pennsylvania in 1868, was well-known in artistic circles by now.  He is perhaps best known for his fantastic depictions of flying machines and futuristic scenes.  He lived at No. 345 at least through 1918.

Dart created this cover for All Story magazine sometime before 1910.  from the collection of the Library of Congress.

The family of Harold Nunes was here by February 1919 when the engagement of daughter Edna was announced.  And five months later another resident, Samuel Fletcher declared voluntary bankruptcy.

They were the last of the Benziger tenants.  In August 1920 the property was sold to Dr. Henry W. Lloyd who had operated Dr. Lloyd's Sanitarium a block to the west at No. 8 St. Nicholas Place since 1911.  Lloyd converted the residence as an annex to the hospital, purchasing the abutting lot to the north, erecting five single-story garages in the rear and building a driveway.

Lloyd specialized in treating patients afflicted with "nervous, mental, drug and alcohol" conditions.   While he oversaw the St. Nicholas Place facility, his physician-in-charge of the annex was Dr. Henry W. Rogers.  

Operating both facilities may have proved too cumbersome for Lloyd, and in 1927 he sold No. 345 to Rogers, who promptly renamed it the Dr. Henry Rogers Sanitarium.  By 1932 the name was changed to the Rogers Hospital.

Rogers's mentally-ill patients were, at times, violent and dangerous.  Such was the case in the summer of 1938 when Samuel Kreitzner was transferred here from the Pilgrim State Hospital in Brentwood, Long Island--except he did not make it.

On June 7 the New York Post ran a headline "Mental Patient Still At Large" and explained that when Kreitzner arrived at Pennsylvania Station during the previous evening's rush hour, he escape from his guard.  Police warned citizens that the 24-year old was "believed to be dangerous."

An advertisement in the New York Evening Post in 1939 described the treatments and amenities.  "Mild mental, nervous cases; elderly difficult people; gardens, sun porches, medical and nursing care."

The hospital took on a case in 1940 that was alien to most psychologists and psychiatrists at the time--gender identity.  Anna Pauline, or "Pauli," Murray was 30-years old and an activist in the equal rights movement.  Earlier that year she and a friend sat in the whites-only section of a Virginia bus and were arrested for violating the state's segregation laws.  She would go on to become involved with the socialist Workers' Defense League and to pursue a career as a civil rights lawyer.

But that was not what landed her at the Roberts Hospital.

When she was arrested for hitchhiking she was wearing the clothing she was most comfortable in--men's apparel.  Murray told the jail matron that she was homosexual and was taking testosterone.  (It was an unusual admittance, for she almost always denied being a lesbian, insisting that she was, in fact, a man.)  It was enough for officials to take her to Bellevue Hospital.

The psychiatrist who interviewed her diagnosed her with schizophrenia and explained her delusion: she believed she was a man.  Allowed one phone call, she contacted a friend who checked her out of Bellevue and brought her to Dr. Rogers's Hospital.  But in the 1940's there was little hope for a sympathetic diagnosis.

According to Murray's biographer, Roslind Rosenberg in her Jane Crow: The Life of Pauli Murray, "Doctors at the Rogers hospital proved no more willing to cooperate in Murray's efforts to become the man she knew herself to be than those elsewhere.  When they released her in mid-March, she had nothing to show for her stay beyond a medical bill for $80, which she could not pay."

The Depression had dealt the hospital a serious blow.  In 1934 the mortgage was refinanced and, finally, in 1942 the Manhattan Savings Bank foreclosed.  Initially converted to a nursery school and kindergarten, early in 1950 it became the Edgecombe Hotel.

An advertisement in The New York Age, one of the city's leading Black community newspapers, described the hotel on April 8, 1950 as "Beautifully decorated, new modern furniture.  Complete hotel service.  Radio and Telephone in every room.  Suburban Atmosphere on Sugar Hill."  The ad noted "special rates to permanents."

But the once-refined neighborhood suffered in the second half of the 20th century.  The hotel was the scene of a terrifying incident on the night of January 28, 1976.  The New York Times reported "Police Officer Edward Calderone interrupted an attempted holdup of a desk clerk at the Edgecombe Hotel, 345 Edgecombe Avenue.  After one of two armed men fired two shots at him that missed, the officer returning the fire, hit one suspect twice in the right leg."  Neither of the suspects were seriously injured and both were arrested.

The advertisement for the hotel in the N.Y. Amsterdam News on December 5, 1980 no longer boasted of beautiful decorations and modern furniture.  Instead it merely touted "air conditioning, TV, ice cubes."  Six years later another attraction had been added:  adult movies.

Change came in 1989 when the Broadway Housing Development Fund Company purchased the property.  A not-for-profit organization, it converted the residence to permanent housing for the homeless.  The unique tiled mansard and the copper dormers were restored in 1998 with private and public funds.  The meticulous restoration won a Victorian Society in America preservation award in 2002.

photographs by the author

The 1891 Max Nathan Carriage House - 180 East 73rd Street

Max Nathan was born in Germany in 1829.  While he was still a boy his family traveled to American.  Unlike many German immigrants who settled in the Lower East Side, the Nathans continued on to the Midwest choosing Cincinnati as their new home.  In 1870, at the age of 41, Max relocated to New York City where he established the Nathan Manufacturing Company which made railroad equipment.  Within the next two decades he also headed The Sieberg Clinder Oil Cup Co. and had amassed a significant personal fortune.

Nathan erected a mansion at No. 32 East 72nd Street in the fashionable neighborhood steps from Fifth Avenue.  Wealthy home owners required private carriage houses for their vehicles and horses, and while a few erected them directly behind or next to their mansions, separated by lawns or gardens, the odors and noises were offensive to most.  As a result, "stable blocks" cropped up nearby--close enough to be convenient yet remote enough to be unobtrusive.  One such block was East 73rd Street between Lexington and Third Avenues.

The block had been lined with modest homes erected in the 1860's and '70s.  The one at No. 180 East 73rd Street was described as a "two-story frame (brick front) dwelling."  But that house, like almost all the others on the block, would not survive to the end of the century.  They were rapidly demolished to be replaced by handsome private stables as millionaires moved onto the blocks to the west.

On June 27, 1889 Max Nathan purchased No. 180 from John Vesey for $27,000.  The high price--around $742,000 today--reflected the value of the plot rather than the house itself as the block gained popularity for stables.

Nathan commissioned the prolific architectural firm William Schickel & Co. to design his carriage house.  Schickel, too, was a German immigrant (who arrived in New York City the same year as Nathan) and was responsible for scores of churches, business buildings and homes.

The stable, completed in 1891, was a handsome utilitarian take on Renaissance Revival, with a splash of Romanesque Revival at the ground floor.  Schickel faced the base in undressed granite  blocks.  It took on the expected stable configuration--a large carriage bay flanked by a doorway and window.  Above the bay an unfurled limestone banner was carved with the owner's initials.

Two floors clad in brick sat atop a molded stone cornice.  The architect deftly used three shades of brick to create dimension and architectural detailing--like the window surrounds and the quoin-like boarders of the facade.  The openings were trimmed terra cotta--leafy border tiles and graceful scrolled keystones.

Terra cotta was again used for the bracketed cornice.  The frieze directly below featured stylized anthemia, looking from the street almost like seashells.  They sat against a flame-like pattern of wavy lines.  Above it all sat a pyramidal brick parapet.

While the vehicles and horses were housed on the ground floor, the second floor would have been used partly as storage--for hay and tackle, for instance.  The rest of the second floor and all of the third would have held living accommodations for stable staff.  Behind the building was the manure pit, an odious but necessary element.

Carriages from the East 73rd Street building quite possibly took the Nathans to their country estate, Fairlawn, in Yonkers.  The family also maintained a summer residence in Long Branch, New Jersey.

Nathan was highly involved in charitable works.  He sat on the building committee of Mt. Sinai Hospital and was one of its trustees for three decades, and was a major benefactor of the Trudeau Sanitarium in Saranac, New York.

In 1912 Nathan retired.  He died at the age of 93 on April 19, 1922.  Four months later, on August 14, the New-York Tribune reported that that Nathan estate had sold what was now described as a "three-story private garage."  The article noted that the buyer was "a well known New Yorker."

Indeed he was.  George Dunton Widener, Jr. was born into a massively wealthy and prominent Philadelphia family,  He inherited a fortune through tragedy.

In February 1912 Widener's father sailed to England on business.  George's mother, the former Eleanor Elkins, accompanied him, partially to attend the opening of the London Museum.  She had presented to the museum 30 silver plates once owned by Nell Gwyn.  Along on the trip was George's older brother, Harry Elkins Widener.

When their purposes complete, the Wideners booked passage back to New York on the recently christened R.M.S. Titanic.  On the night the ship hit the iceberg, the Wideners gathered on deck with the other panicked passengers.  George Sr. helped his wife and her maid onto a life boat and watched as it was lowered into the icy waters.  Then he and Harry stood on deck and awaited the inevitable.  Their bodies were never identified.

George, Jr. married the divorcee Jessie Sloane Dodge--daughter of Henry T. and Jessie Sloane--in 1917.  Like Nathan, the couple lived nearby in a mansion at No. 5 East 70th Street, directly behind the palatial Henry C. Frick residence facing Fifth Avenue.

In 1923 Widener had "renovations" done on the 73rd Street building.  Although the plans are vague, the alterations most likely made the former stable more car-friendly.  But while the Wideners got around town in automobiles, George in no way turned his back on horses.

George Widener was less known for his business interests than for his passion for horse racing.  He maintained a 446-acre estate, Erdenheim Farm, outside of Philadelphia where his stable of thoroughbreds were housed and bred.

Widener's horses raced in the most illustrious events.   He was dealt a severe blow in the spring of 1924.  The New York Times reported "George D. Widener's St. James, three-year-old son of Ambassador IV. and Bobolink II. and the hope of the East for the Preakness Stakes and the Kentucky Golden Jubilee Derby, pulled up lame after his Preakness workout at the Belmont Park track yesterday morning and will not be shipped to Baltimore for the Pimlico classic."

The setback could not dampen Widener's love for the sport.  Later that year, in August, he attended the annual yearling auction at Saratoga Springs in order to add to his stable.  On the fourth day of the sale he purchased Calamint for $5,200, nearly $75,000 in today's money.

Jockeys in the 1920's were, for the most part, teen-aged boys who did not weigh as much as even slender adults.  But work on a horse farm got in the way of schooling.  As The New York Times explained on October 14, 1925, "Horses must be exercised and cared for in the morning, which unfortunately happens to be school time."

To remedy the conflict, Widener established a school on the property of Erdenheim Farm.  Now, after the boys had completed their tasks with stable foreman Bert Muholland, "Mrs. Clinton Aldred occupies their afternoons with training in every subject from arithmetic and English to current events and civics."  There were seven boys in the original class, ranging from 14- to 17-years-old, several of whom came from Long Island.

While George concentrated on racing, Jessie mingled among the top echelon of New York socialites.  She worked with Mrs. Vincent Astor for more than a month on preparations for a recital in the Astor's ballroom to benefit the Mental Hygiene Committee of the State Charities Aid Association on January 7, 1926.

By the 1960's the Wideners had moved permanently to Erdenheim Farm.  (Their 70th Street mansion was later demolished for an extension to the Frick Collection.)  In 1965 at least three tenants were living in the former grooms' apartments above the East 73rd Street stables.  Marion A. Dexter, and Marie and Marion Martin were listed at No. 180.

Change came in 1976 when J. H. Guttmann converted the former carriage house for his picture framing shop on the ground floor and part of the second.  A "private art gallery" shared part of the second floor.  The top floor housed a single apartment, presumably home to owner Jakob Guttmann.  The only noticeable exterior change was the carriage bay, now converted to a show window.

The J. H. Guttmann Picture Frame Corp. was no run-of-the-mill frame store.  Its patrons were, according to The New York Times on September 16, 1979 "museums, fine-art dealers and collectors, as well as the average customer."  The article called Guttman one of the three top framing houses in New York and noted it maintained a stock of antique frames "generally ranging fro early Renaissance to 19th-century American."

Guttman's clients include art museums in Los Angeles, Cleveland, St. Louis, Fort Worth and New York.  His services included restoring and regilding frames, and shortening or enlarging them to fit paintings.  Although J. H. Guttman remained in the building at least through the 1980's, it was sold in December 1981, and then again in March 2002.

The Nathan carriage house was put on the market in 2018 for $16,750,000.  Like several of the amazingly-surviving private stable buildings on the block, a private residence is most likely in the building's future.

photographs by the author