The Peter L. Bernhardt Saloon and Tenement - 180 First Avenue

 

A hint of the original appearance of the 4-story house-and-store can be gleaned in the building next door.   photograph by Ted Leather

Most of the houses that filled the block on the east side of First Avenue between 10th and 11th Streets in the first half of the 19th century had stores on the ground floor.  The four-story house-and-store at the southeast corner of West 11th Street was erected in 1841.  By 1851, A. T. Higbie operated a grocery in the store space.

The neighborhood was filled with Irish immigrants in the years just before the outbreak of the Civil War.  John McGuire, who came from County Fermanagh, Ireland, lived here in 1860; and the following year Bridget Brenan, a widow, and John McManus, a laborer, occupied rooms here.  In the meantime, Thomas Butler had opened a saloon in the former grocery space.

The saloon saw a succession of proprietors over the subsequent years.  Mary McLaughlin, the widow of Charles McLaughlin, not only ran this saloon, but owned another at 390 Tenth Avenue in the notorious Hell's Kitchen district.  Michael J. McCabe took over in 1867 and moved his family into the upper floors.  By then, German immigrants were changing the personality of the neighborhood.  Among the McCabes' neighbors in the building were Jacob Gebhardt, a porter; Elizabeth Phahl, a widow; and Eliza J. Purty, who ran a candy store on West 18th Street.

Change came in October 1872 when Henry Bernhardt transferred the title of 180 First Avenue to Peter Ludwig and Maria Bernhardt.  No money was exchanged in the transaction.  In return for the First Avenue house, Peter and Maria transferred title to another on East 13th Street, just east of Avenue A.

Peter L. Bernhardt converted the house to a tenement, adding an additional floor.  His architect added an ambitious cast metal corner with half-round pediment that announced the date of construction and Peter's monogram.  A single-story store was erected to the rear at 400 East 11th Street.  It doubled as the residential entrance to the tenement.

photograph by Ted Leather

Bernhardt was born in Germany in 1831.  He married Maria Geiger in New York City in 1853.  The couple had four children, Henry, Dorothea, Helena J. and Louise.  The family moved into one of the upstairs apartments.

Peter Bernhardt took over the saloon.  It was not long before trouble occurred.  On February 2, 1872, The New York Times reported, "At noon yesterday an affray occured [sic] in the oyster-saloon, No. 180 First-avenue, during which William Swezey, one of the employes [sic] of the saloon, was struck on the head by Fred[erick] Golden, and received a severe wound."

It appears that Golden was on a mid-day drunk and got out of control.  Swezey was, most likely, trying to eject his unruly customer.  It is unclear what Golden used to bonk him on the head, but it might have been a bottle, which broke.  The New York Times noted, "Philander Weeks, another employe [sic], was cut on the hands and severely injured."  Golden was arrested and jailed.

The Saul family, who lived upstairs, suffered a horrific tragedy on June 11, 1874.  The Sun reported that four-year-old Emma Saul "fell into a tub of boiling water" at 2:00 that morning.  The Daily Graphic explained, "She was rescued from the boiler almost immediately, but was terribly burned, having been completely immersed in the water, which had but just been removed from the stove."  The little girl died in the apartment that afternoon.

Peter and Maria Bernhardt would eventually own several Manhattan properties.  As early as 1879, the family moved out, although retaining possession of the building.  That year Meyer Himmelweit ran a drygoods store in the former saloon space, and Adloph T. Glunz ran a grocery in the 11th Street store.  The names of the tenants upstairs were mostly German by now, Aneshansel, Sternshorn, and Kochendoerfer among them.

Charles Euler and his wife became medical pioneers of a sort when they brought home their seven-month-old baby boy in the summer of 1895.  When born, the premature infant had little hope for survival.  But Charles Euler, Jr., "a crinkled little roseleaf of humanity," as described by The Weekly Press on June 26, was sent home inside an incubator--a relatively new invention of the Boston-based Hub company.  The article said, "He is a precocious little chap--this tenant of an incubator, for he already has begun to hold on with his little lips to the instrument which drops barley water and sterilized milk into his dot of a mouth."

Charles Euler, Jr. came home to 180 First Avenue in this incubator.  The Weekly Press, June 26, 1895 (copyright expired)

On June 10, 1910, six months before his death at the age of 79, Peter Ludwig Bernhardt sold 180 First Avenue to Lambert S. Quackenbush.  

Among the tenants Quackenbush inherited were the Porazzo family.  Carmine Anthony Porazzo and his wife, the former Maria Addonizio, moved into an apartment here around 1874.  The couple were both natives of Avellino, Italy.  Born in 1850, Carmine eventually earned the nickname the "Father of the East Side," according to the New York Telegram.  The newspaper said, "If he heard of a family about to be evicted, he hastened around with a little something to satisfy the landlord.  If somebody were out of luck, or, as often happened, got into trouble with the police, Carmine could be relied upon."

Among those who "got into trouble with the police," were Carmine, himself, and his son, Pasquale, known as Patsy.  He, his wife, Rosina Catania, and their six children also lived in the building.  Carmine and Pasquale converted the drygoods space to an illegal saloon.

On February 23, 1912, The Plattsburgh Sentinel reported on the raids of "fifty drinking places, cafes, hotels, cellars and sub-cellars that...had no licenses to sell."  The article said, "Over three hundred barrels of wine were confiscated in the place of C. A. Porazzo...which the commissioner values at about $15,000."  (The figure would translate to about $511,000 in 2025.)  The American Advance added, "Many of the joints had regular bars fitted up for business."

The following month, on March 20, The Evening World reported that Pasquale's 17-year-old son, George, was "indicted for forgery in the second degree."  Having had no previous conviction, George's charge was dismissed.

At the time, the Italian community was plagued by a terroristic group called La Mano Nera, or the Black Hand.  The Italian-American group used violence, including assassinations and bombings, to extort money from well-to-do Italians.

On June 14, 1914, the New York Herald reported on the "hundreds of bomb outrages in New York city--all directly traceable to the Black Hand" that had been committed the previous year.  On the list was the March 5, 1913 bombing at the "Carmine Porazzo wine cellar, No. 400 East Eleventh street."

Julius Regina and his wife occupied a fifth floor apartment here in 1915 with their four children, Katherine, Louis, Josphine and Lena.  The oldest was five years old and Lena was still an infant.  

On the afternoon of November 23, 1915, Mrs. Regina went shopping, leaving her the children unattended.  The Evening World reported that they, "played with matches until a curtain caught fire.  They were screaming in terror when their mother, Mrs. Julius Regina, returning from a store, heard their cries and rushed into the room."

Expectedly, other residents rushed into the hallway.  The Evening World reported that 11-year-old Modesta Taduca darted through the crowd and into the apartment.  She aided Mrs. Regina to pull all the children out of the "blazing room."  The article said that firefighters soon extinguished the fire.

Pasquale Porazzo was in trouble again in 1922.  On January 13, The New York Times reported, "The local Italian lottery business, which is said to have resulted in forty murders since 1916, finally has been broken up."  The article that six men had been arrested, including Pasquale Porazzo, "a tailor."

Carmine Porazzo's sometimes shady operations did not taint his reputation in the neighborhood.  On April 4, 1924, the New York Telegram reported on his funeral, the article's headline reading: "'Father' of East Side Buried / Huge Throngs Weep at Bier of Carmine Porazzo--Funeral of Record Size."  The article said: 

There were at least thirty carriages loaded down with flowers.  The horse-drawn procession of mourners required an hour to pass a given point.  Some said there were 300 vehicles, but as it is unlucky to count the coaches in a funeral train the exact number probably will never be known.

In 1941, a massive advertising mural was painted on the building's side.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The tenement continued to be home mostly to immigrant families throughout the subsequent years.  In the third quarter of the century, the neighborhood's demographics changed and trendy restaurants and shops redefined its personality.  In July 2018, Brazilian-born artist Eduardo Kobra painted a colorful mural of Michael Jackson on the building's side. 

Kobra's mural depicts Jackson as a youth (left) and an adult (right).  photograph by Ted Leather

There are still 16 apartments in the vintage building that Peter L. Bernhardt substantially remodeled in 1872.

photograph by Ted Leather

many thanks to reader Ted Leather for suggesting this post

Ernest Keyser's 1837 78 East 2nd Street

 

No. 78 and its mirror-image at No. 80 (seen in part at right) were originally three bays wide and two-and-a-half stories tall.  photo by Carole Teller

In 1831, the New York City Marble Cemetery was opened on the north side of Second Street, between First and Second Avenues.  There may have been contentious negotiations between its trustees and the owner of the vacant lots at 76 through 82 East 2nd Street, because the otherwise rectangular cemetery did not include those parcels, but extended behind them.

Around 1837, owner Ernest Keyser erected two mirror-image houses at 78 and 80 Second Street.  (The "East" would come later)  Two-and-a-half stories tall and 27-feet wide, they were faced in red Flemish bond brick and trimmed in brownstone.  Originally, each of their peaked roofs would have been pierced with two dormers.  Keyser's architect gave the windows especially attractive paneled lintels, their end blocks carved with leaf-backed flowers.

The complex lintels were costly and handsome additions.  photo by the author

Because the cemetery backed up to the property line, Keyser's houses were necessarily shallow and had no rear yards.  Keyser apparently solved the problem by keeping the lots at 76 and 82 vacant--providing a side yard to each house.

Keyser leased the houses.  As early as 1840, Elizabeth, the widow of Samuel A. Tatnall, occupied No. 78.  She was followed by the Thomas J. Ireland family by 1845.  The parlor was the scene of the funeral of six-year-old Thomas J. Ireland, Jr. on September 11, 1846.

The tenants were middle-class.  Living here during the Civil War years were George N. and Catherine C. Franklin and their son, Peter B.  Although Peter was 22 years old when the war broke out, he was exempt from fighting.  The Franklins were members of the Society of Friends, known as the Quakers, and were religiously bound not to engage in violence.

The cemetery behind them necessitated the shallowness of the houses.  photograph by Carole Teller

Around 1869, the Keyser family raised the attic to a full floor.  At the same time, they doubled the house by erecting a two-bay addition on the vacant lot.  Amazingly, the architect went to extraordinary pains to perfectly match the lintels at the parlor level and give the upper floor openings paneled lintels appropriate to the now-outdated Federal style.  Perplexingly, though, after taking the efforts to keep the original house and its addition architecturally congruous, he designed the addition with four floors.  Both sections were given matching, understated cornices and the stoop railings were updated.

Ernest Keyser's son, Isaiah, died in 1879.  His widow, Augusta W. Keyser, sold 78 and 80 East 2nd Street to Emilia Sauer on January 26, 1880.  Sauer paid $8,182 for both homes, or about $260,000 in 2025 terms.

As the Keyser family had done, Sauer leased the houses.  Living in No. 78 in the early 1910s was Reverend J. W. Geyer.  He was the president of the Ottilie Orphan Asylum Society of New York.  Established in March 1892 with the ungainly title The Orphan Asylum Society of the Reformed Church of Brooklyn and New York, it provided "the care, support, education, maintenance and disposal of orphan, pauper and destitute children," according to the Directories of Charities in 1912.

In 1913, Darchel Noam Talmud Torah was organized here.  The yeshiva was described by The Jewish Communal Register of New York City as a "communal school" in 1918.  That year it employed three teachers for its enrollment of 28 girls.  The school operated from 3:00 p.m. to 7:30 p.m. during the week and from 9 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. on Sundays.  In 1925, the school moved next door to 80-82 East 2nd Street.

photograph by Carole Teller

No. 78 East 2nd Street returned to rented rooms.  Then, in 1970, it was converted to a two-family residence--one apartment having three bedrooms and the other having two.  It was renovated again in 2012, resulting in an apartment in the basement and a single family home above.

many thanks to historians Bellov & Teller for suggesting this post

The 1884 Heinrich and Rosa Richter House - 52 East 80th Street

 

Terence Farley was one of the most prolific New York City developers of the late 19th century.  In 1883 he commissioned the equally busy architectural firm Thom & Wilson to design a row of upscale homes on the south side of East 80th Street between Park and Madison Avenues.  Completed early in 1884, they were a blend of neo-Grec and Queen Anne styles.  

The playful elements of No. 52 were introduced by the highly unusual brownstone stoop newels, which smacked of English letter boxes.  The double-doored entrance with its transom outlined with Queen Anne-style panes sat within a frame consisting of medieval-inspired colonettes perched upon bulbous brackets.  They upheld an intricate cornice.  The busy decorations of the parlor floor included rosettes and beaded panels.  The asymmetry of the Queen Anne style appeared in the hall windows that sat apart from the paired openings on each floor and, unlike those, wore Renaissance style pediments.  To further stress the asymmetrical design, the architects placed the cornice pediment prominently off to the side.

Three of houses sold on a single day, March 25, 1884.  No. 52 was purchased by Heinrich and Rosa Marie Richter for $42,500--about $1.4 million in 2025 terms. 

Born in Germany in 1823, Richter came to New York in 1861 and established a wholesale neckwear business.  Known by most as Henry, he also founded the Congregation Adath Israel and would serve as its president for 35 years.  He and Rosa had four adult children, Maximillian (known as Max), Marie Helene, Daniel and Bruno.  The couple maintained a summer home in Riverdale, New York.

Living with the couple were Max and his wife, Rebecca.  Max was was 25 years old when the family moved in.  He was a partner in his father's firm, which was now known as H. Richter & Sons.

In the last half of the 20th century the stoop railings were replaced.  Happily, the highly unusual brownstone newels were preserved.

Henry and Rosa's only daughter, Marie Helene, married Charles Heidenheimer in 1881 and the couple had a son, Delwyn Walter, born in 1887.  Charles worked as the general manager of H. Richter & Sons.  Whether Charles was abusive or unfaithful is unclear (although The Sun described him as having "a very violent temper"), but when Delwyn was three years old, Marie took him away to Europe.  The World reported, "While she was away, Mr. Heidenheimer quarrelled [sic] with her relatives, and they induced Marie not to write to him."  The New York Times added, "they instructed her by cable to have nothing more to do with 'the rascal.'" 

Eventually, Charles "after a tedious chase found [Marie] at Darmstadt [Germany]."  She brought Delwyn back to New York and the two moved into her parents' East 80th Street house.  On February 18, 1893, The World explained, "She refused to live with him, saying that her folks had referred to him in a letter as 'that scoundrel.'"  In the meantime, Charles was fired from H. Richter & Sons, "for neglect of business" and for his temper in the workplace.

After a contentious court battle, on March 1, 1893 Marie was given custody of Delwyn.  The New York Times reported that Charles watched the carriage carrying his wife and son away from the courthouse steps as "the tears rolled down his cheeks."  

Whimsical iron sunflowers, an important motif in Queen Anne design, guard the basement and parlor openings.

Marie's and Charles's divorce proceedings were as ugly as the custody battle--lasting for years and involving Charles's suing almost all of the Richter family members.  Finally, Marie Helene married Dr. Louis Peiser, a heart specialist associated with the German Hospital.  The newlyweds moved down the block from the Richters at 59 East 80th Street.  Dr. Peiser adopted Delwyn and in 1896 the couple had a son, Walter.

The Richters were at the Riverdale house on August 1, 1902 when Henry died.  The New York Herald said the cause was "heart disease, after several months' illness."  The Peiser family now moved into 52 East 80th Street with Rosa.

In 1901, the Peisers had hired John G. Robinson to install a copper-clad oriel at the second floor of their home.  Now, on January 3, 1903, the Record & Guide reported that Rosa had hired architect Frederick C. Zobel to do the same.  The "new bay widow" cost the family $1,500--more than $55,000 in today's money.  The handsome, bowed oriel gave a splash of France to the architecture.  Along with its intricate pressed decorations, its Parisian style windows were the height of Edwardian domestic taste.

On April 20, 1903, Dr. Peiser was awakened by a panicked servant from the house of William Prager at 129 East 74th Street.  The family's 19-year-old son, David, had shot himself in the forehead, presumably while cleaning his pistol in the middle of the night.  (Suicide was considered shameful and scandalous at the time and families often made extraordinary excuses to hide the truth.)  The New-York Tribune reported, "Dr. Piser [sic] on seeing the wound said it was a fatal one.  Half an hour after his arrival the youth died."

At the time, Delwyn Walter Peiser was attending Columbia College.  The highly educated 16-year-old had attended Jena University in Germany, prepared at the Rugby Military Academy and at the College of the City of New York.  At Columbia, he was making a mark as an athlete.  The History of the Class of Nineteen Hundred and Seven Columbia College wrote:

He played with the University Baseball Squad for two years, and in 1905 made the second University Baseball Team.  He was a member of the football Association, the Track Association, the Baseball Association, the Lacrosse Association, and the Tennis Club.

Delwyn Walter Peiser's life ended tragically.  The History of the Class of 1907, 1907 (copyright expired)

On December 11, 1911, in a tragedy strikingly similar to that of David Prager seven years earlier, Delwyn Walter Peiser died "of a pistol shot wound supposed to have been received while he was cleaning a revolver."  Like Prager, he had shot himself in the forehead.  The Sun reported, "He was alone at the time.  His father and other physicians tried to save his life, but he died in two hours."

In March 1911, title to the East 80th Street house was transferred to Marie Peiser.  Living with the family at the time was Dr. George Thomas Strodl, Louis Peiser's assistant.  

Louis and Marie traveled to Europe in the spring of 1913.  They were in Berlin that summer when The Sun reported that Louis would "attend the medical congress in London in August."  Unfortunately, he would not make the convention.

Around the time of the article, a cable was received at the German Hospital "carrying news of [Peiser's] serious illness," according to the New York Herald.  The newspaper reported, "Dr. George T. Strodl, his assistant, caught the first eastbound steamship to be with him."  Unfortunately, he arrived in Carlsbad, Germany on August 6, one day late.  The following day, the New York Herald ran the headline, "Dr. Peiser Dies Suddenly Abroad."  

Calling Peiser "one of the foremost medical men in the city, especially in the treatment of all affections of the heart," the article explained that the 54-year-old had succumbed to arterio sclerosis.  It noted, "Mrs. Peiser accompanied him abroad and was with him when he died."

Dr. Peiser's body was brought back to New York on the steamship Kaiser Wilhelm II.  It arrived on August 19 and The New York Times reported, "Max Richter, brother-in-law of Dr. Peiser, boarded the steamship at Quarantine from a revenue cutter."

Louis Peiser bequeathed his medical library to Dr. Strodl.  Other than the $500 that he left to the Society Schlaraffia (a German-language men's organization), Marie inherited his estate.

Dr. George Thomas Strodl continued to reside in the East 80th Street house.  He took over Peiser's position as chief specialist of heart disease in the German Hospital.  He had studied medicine in Berlin, Munich, Vienna and New York, receiving his medical degree from Columbia University.

 

Empire State Notables, 1914 (copyright expired)

In June 1920, Max and Rebecca Richter purchased 134 West 11th Street in Greenwich Village.  It is unclear whether Marie moved with them.  What is clear is that George T. Strodl remained at 52 East 80th Street at least through 1928.

In this 1941 photograph, the draperies throughout the house were drawn, protecting against the sun's damaging rays.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The house was converted to apartments in 1965, with a doctor's office in the basement.  Among the residents over the subsequent decades were Pilar and Vincent Downing, here in the mid- to late-1960s; Roger Denim, who operated his Silva Mind Control International, Inc. from his apartment in 1971 (he headed a "special seminar on Alpha Brain Wave Control and E.S.P. at the Tarrytown Hilton Inn that year); and Charles R. Fry, a 1965 graduate of Princeton, who lived here in the mid-1980s.

The Richter house draws less attention for its marvelous copper oriel than for a fragment of architectural decoration that landed, somewhat mysteriously, in the areaway.  The carved limestone head once graced the facade of the Ziegfeld Theater on Sixth Avenue and 54th Street.  According to Atlas Obscura, "Broadway folklore has it that show producer Jerome Hammer asked a friend of his who was working on the construction of the new skyscraper for one of the heads, which was one day installed by crane into his front yard."  If the urban legend is true, that would put the placement here in 1965.

photograph by Luke J. Spencer

How the fascinating relic came to become part of the history of 52 East 80th Street will, most likely, never be known.  In the meantime, the Richter house and their 1903 home improvement project demands attention.

photographs by the author

many thanks to reader Debbie Carter for requesting this post

The 1890 Adam and Matilda Keller House - 342 West 122nd Street

 

In 1889, Developers Joseph W. and A. Alonzo Teets completed the construction of eleven handsome brownstone-fronted rowhouses along the north side of West 122nd Street between Morningside and Manhattan Avenues.  Apparently pleased with the project, that year A. Alonzo Teets brought back the architect, J. A. Webster, to design a similar row of ten houses on the opposite side of the street.

This time E. H. Hammond was listed as working with Webster on the designs.  Filed in May 1889, the plans listed the construction cost of the three-story, 16-foot wide homes at $11,000 each, or about $387,000 in 2025.  Near matches to the earlier residences, they were a successful blend of Romanesque Revival, neo-Grec, and Queen Anne styles.  And, just as was the case with those across the street, while the eight middle homes were essentially identical, the two end residences stood out.  

Instead of the heavy entrance brackets and cornices of the interior homes, the architects gave these doorways dramatic hood-like arches upheld by small paired colonettes.  The tympana were filled with elaborate Renaissance inspired carvings, including a glaring face.  To further set the end homes apart, in stark contrast to those beefy cast iron railings and stoop newels, these were given whimsical, airy Queen Anne railings with sunbursts and squiggles.

The interior doors with carved panels can be seen through the well-weathered outer doors.

The developer originally leased 342 West 122nd Street to the family of retired merchant Adolph Mohle.  Living with him and his wife was his teenaged son, Paul, from Adolph's first marriage.  On September 17, 1891, the 18-year-old stole and pawned $500 worth of jewelry from his stepmother.  (The figure would translate to nearly $18,000 in 2025.)  A year later, The Press said, "The fear of arrest kept young Mohle away from his father's home ever since."  But his angry father had not stopped searching.  On September 12, 1892, Paul Mohle, now 19 years old, was captured.  The Press reported, "Mr. Mohle intends to have him committed to a reformatory."

Later that year, A. Alonzo Teets sold 342 West 122nd Street to Adam and Matilda Spoha Keller.  Born in 1840, Keller had served with the Seventh Regiment during the Civil War.  He was president of the Keller Manufacturing Company, makers of jewelry.  He and Matilda had two sons, Adam Jr. and Frank; and three daughters, Emma, Estelle and Agnes Marguerite.

The parlor was the scene of Emma's wedding to Dr. Augustine Charles McGuire on June 21, 1899.  The newlyweds would move to Pelham Manor where McGuire would make a significant mark in the medical community.

Estelle, who was Emma's maid of honor, was studying at Normal College at the time.  She received her teaching license in 1901.

The whimsical stoop railings of 342 stood in stark contrast to the muscular iron railings of the other houses along the row.

Although six adult Kellers shared 342 West 122nd Street, the family took in two boarders in 1901.  G. A. Taber was an 1894 graduate of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and worked with the Rapid Transit Commission.  He married Edna May Dearborn on October 25, 1900.  The Technology Review reported in January 1901, Mr. and Mrs. Taber will reside at 342 West 122d Street, New York.

A second wedding took place in the parlor on June 1, 1911.  Agnes Marguerite was married to Edgar Nelson Sidman that evening.  Agnes quickly slipped into the routine of society women.  Eight months later, on February 4, 1912, The New York Times reported, "Mrs. Edgar Nelson Sidman has returned from a four months' trip abroad, and is at the Sherman Square Hotel."

Adam Keller died "suddenly" in the house on the night of January 10, 1915 at the age of 75.  (The term often suggested a heart attack or stroke.)  His funeral was held in the house two days later.

Mathilda sold 342 West 122nd Street in April 1919.  It became home to Jay C. Walton, a commissioner of deeds, and his wife.  Highly involved in politics, Walton had run for Congress under the Independent League ticket in 1910.  His wife was also active and in 1921 was a member of the New York City Federation of Women's Clubs, which sought to advance civic improvements, educational interests and philanthropic work.  She was, as well, a member of the Beethoven Society.

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services

By the Depression years, 342 West 122nd Street was operated as a rooming house.  Musician Pancho Diggs listed his address here in the 1940 American Federation of Musicians Directory as "c/o I. Smith."  Pancho Diggs and His Orchestra were described in a 1938 advertisement  as "a local sensation."

Pancho Diggs and His Orchestra participated in the Grand Opening of the Jersey Savoy Ballroom in 1938.

Also rooming in the house that year was Selina Johnston, whose name was listed in the Government's roll of Communist Party voters.

Today, 342 West 122nd Street, little changed on the exterior, is a two-family home.  

photographs by the author

The George Gershwin House - 316 West 103rd Street

 

photograph by Alice Lum

Born New York City in 1857, Mark Ash graduated from Columbia University Law School and co-founded Alexander & Ash in 1878.  He and his wife, Rose, had three children, Edward, Alma and Jennie.

In 1898, Ash hired architect Henri Fouchaux to design a four-story and basement house at 316 West 103rd Street.  A marriage of Beaux Arts and Renaissance Revival styles, the 25-foot wide residence was faced in limestone and parged brick.  The rusticated parlor level sat above a dog-legged stoop protected by French-inspired iron railings.  The transoms of the arched parlor openings wore handsome metal screens of wreaths and stylized vines.  The spandrels of underside of the two-story, faceted oriel directly above was intricately carved with sprays of full blown roses.  The fourth floor sat back from the blustraded cornice, nearly unseen from the street.

photograph by Alice Lum

The Ash family was highly involved in Jewish causes.  Ash was a member of the Judaeans and a supporter of the Jewish Protectory and Aid Society, and Rose was a member of the National Council of Jewish Women.  

Construction was completed in 1899 and a search for domestic help began.  On November 9, a succinct advertisement in the New York Journal and Advertiser read, "Nurse--Competent.  Call between 10 and 2, 316 West 103d st.," and six days later an advertisement sought, "Young man to care for furnace; sleep home."

Also living in the house was William Ash, Mark's unmarried brother.  William was born in 1871 and graduated from New York University and the New York Law School.  He, too, was a member of Alexander & Ash.  The brothers co-authored technical books like the 1899 The Building Code of the City of New York; and Ash's Annotated Greater New York Charter, published in 1906 and updated in 1912 and 1913.

Edward Ash graduated from the Ethical Culture School in 1909 and received his law degree from Fordham University in 1913.  Not surprisingly, he joined Alexander & Ash.  

In the meantime, his father had delved into real estate development, as well.  In 1910, for instance, he and Sonn Brothers erected The Riviera, at 790 Riverside Drive, described by the Real Estate Record & Guide as, "one of the largest and most magnificently constructed and equipped apartment houses in the city."

Alma Ash graduated from Barnard College.  The parlor was the scene of her wedding to landscape artist Alonzo Klaw on November 12, 1912.  The New York Times reported, "It was a quiet home wedding, only the relatives and a few intimate friends being present."

William Ash died of Bright's Disease on January 14, 1915.  The attorney was 43 years old.

The following year, Edward enlisted in the U.S. Army.  He trained at Plattsburg, New York.  It is unclear whether he actively served in the war, but he was back at 316 West 103rd Street on July 12, 1917 when he married Jeannette Albert in the bride's Brooklyn home.

On July 28, 1923, the Record & Guide reported that Mark Ash had sold the house to Mary E. Lane.  Two years later, on September 11, 1925, The New York Evening Post reported that Mary Lane sold the house, "to George Gershwin, the music composer."  Gershwin was just 28 years old.

Now home to the entire Gershwin family, it was creatively compartmentalized to accommodate the living arrangements of the all-adult members.  George's parents, Rose and Morris Gershwin (born in Russia as Roza Bruskina and Moishe Gershwin) took the parlor floor; George's siblings, Arthur and Frances, were on the third; brother Ira moved into the fourth floor (and a year later his bride, Leonore would be there); and George took the top floor.

George Gershwin had recently returned from Paris.  He was just seeing the glint of success in the music world, yet fame and real fortune were still a few years away.  

Part of the English basement was turned into a table tennis room and two grand pianos were lugged into the house for George.  Howard Pollack, in his George Gershwin: His Life and Work, writes, 

Observers painted a picturesque portrait of this residence, with Morris riding the elevator, Rose cooking borscht in the kitchen, Frances on her way to dance lessons, and George making occasional retreats to the nearby Whitehall Hotel to get some work done—a scene that might have sprung from the pages of the play You Can’t Take it with You (1936) by two friends of the Gershwins, George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart.  Years later, Frances remembered with some amazement how she would sometimes return home and find groups of people independently socializing on each floor of the house.

George used the top floor as living quarters, office and studio.  Shortly after moving in, he landed a $35-a-week job as a rehearsal pianist for the Bolton-Wodehouse-Kern musical Miss 1917.  Bored with playing the same tunes over and over, he gradually slipped in his own subtle versions.  The creative variations caught the attention of management and he was soon elevated to accompanist for the Century Sunday Concerts—a popular show featuring the likes of Fanny Brice, Bert Williams, Ann Pennington and Eddie Cantor.

This portrait of George Gershwin was made in 1937. from the collection of the Library of Congress

George and his brother Ira would not be staying in the 103^rd Street house with their family for long.  In 1927, flushed with success and with their plays Strike up the Band and Funny Face opening on Broadway, the brothers moved to adjoining penthouses at 33 Riverside Drive.

On November 3, 1930, The New York Sun reported on the marriage of Frances Gershwin, who was now 22 years old, to Leopold Godowsky, Jr., "son of the pianist and composer."  The wedding was held in Ira Gershwin's Riverside Drive penthouse.

The following year, on September 19, 1931, The New York Times reported, "George Gershwin, the composer, sold his brownstone [sic] residence at 316 West 103d after an ownership of many years."  Only two months later, the buyer, Mary S. Drain resold it to Isidor and Rose Becker "for alteration into small suites," as reported by The Times on December 24.  "This is a four-story house containing sixteen rooms, four baths and an electric elevator," said the article.

The Beckers leased rooms to a variety of tenants including conductor Jasha Horenstein, who entertained visitors like Artur Rubenstein here.  It was a frightening time for German Americans and, especially, German Jews.  Across the street from 316 West 103rd Street, at the corner of Riverside Drive, was the Masters Apartments where Congressman Sol Bloom lived.  The Jewish chairman of the House Committee on Foreign Relations opposed isolationism and on Sunday afternoons for two years—between 1939 and 1941—the sidewalk outside saw pro-Nazi demonstrators.

No. 316 West 103^rd was not immune to political intrigue.  One resident, a waiter at the Astor Hotel, was blatant about his pro-Nazi sympathies.  One day in 1940, five FBI agents came to the house and arrested him as a member of an espionage ring centered at the Astor Hotel.  He was soon deported.

The unusual stoop can be seen in this 1941 photograph.   The original fourth floor can been glimpsed behind the balustrade above the cornice.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

In 1947, the house was converted to apartments, two per floor.  The stoop was shaved off and the entrance moved to the former English basement.  The original railings were reinstalled as the areaway fencing.   

A fascinating tenant in 1952 was Gordon Langley Hall.  Born in England in 1922, Hall was society editor of the Port Chester Daily Item.  On March 15 that year, The New York Age reported, "A reception honoring the baritone [John Fleming] followed his recital and was given at the home of Gordon Langley Hall, 316 West 103rd Street."  Hall would later live as a female, changing her name to Dawn Langley Pepita Hall.  She claimed to have been born with an unusual medical condition that swelled her genitals and caused the misidentification of her sex.  And, indeed, she married John-Paul Simmons in 1969 and had a daughter.

photograph by Alice Lum

In 1998, the top floor was raised and given a grossly architecturally incompatible facade.  Despite that and the unfortunate loss of the stoop, Henri Fouchaux's handsome and unusual design stands out along the block.

The Lost Jotham Force House - 305 Bowery

 

image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

As early as 1821, Jotham Force occupied the two-and-and-half story house-and-store at the northeast corner of the Bowery and First Street.  The Federal-style building was one of at least two brick-faced, nearly identical structures.  Two bays wide and two-and-a-half stories tall, its gambrel roof harkened to the Dutch residences generations earlier.  The commodious attic was illuminated by two dormers each on the back and front, and an arched window flanked by quarter-round openings on the side.

Born in 1791 in Bergen, New Jersey, Force could trace his American roots to Benjamin Force, who arrived in Massachusetts before 1689.  He married Catherine Earl on April 20, 1811.  Force was a cordwainer, or a maker of new leather shoes (as opposed to a shoemaker, who sometimes repaired or refashioned used footwear).  It is likely that he operated his business in the ground floor shop.

The store and its upstairs rooms saw a rapid turnover of occupants.  In 1830 James S. Smith, who lived on Cherry Street, ran a grocery store here while David Marsh, Jr. lived upstairs.  Joshua Moore and his family lived here in 1835 when he joined neighbors applauding streetcar service on the Bowery.  A letter to the Common Council said in part that they, "do not consider the single track of rails, nor the running of the cars any way injurious to our interest; but think the conveyance in Rail Road Cars a great public convenience."

In 1842, Samuel Riker and his wife, Helena, purchased 305 Bowery and took over the grocery.  Around this time, a small addition was placed at the rear to access the upper floors.  It took the address of 2 First Street.  The alteration made possible a second commercial space.  The Rikers now shared the upper floors with the family of Isaiah Valleau, a shoemaker, who opened his business in the new shop.

Samuel Riker died early in 1850.  Helena J. Riker leased the grocery to Vanbergen & Browning, run by William Browning and Nicholas Vanbergen.  Browning and his family moved into the upper floors with Helena Riker.  (Valleau, his family, and his shoe store had left by then.)  Two years later, on April 7, 1852, Helena sold the "2 story brick house and lot of ground No. 305 Bowery," at auction.  It was purchased by Heinrich Martens (who sometimes listed his name as Henry).

Martens made changes.  While still listed as a "grocer," he converted part of the ground floor to a beer saloon.  When summoned to testify about a murder case in January 1861, he identified himself to the court saying, "I live at No. 305 Bowery, and keep a grocery and liquor store there."  

The murder involved two patrons, Edward Doyle, a young butcher, and John Sexton, a 26-year-old Irish immigrant.  The two entered the saloon between 5:00 and 6:00 on the evening of January 14, 1861.  According to Martens, "Doyle seemed to be under the influence of liquor, but [Sexton] did not appear to be greatly affected; he asked for a glass of beer and invited those present to drink with him."  Martens said, "they had no quarrel while at my house; it was about 6 o'clock when they left."  Less than an hour later, John Sexton was found dead on the stoop of 205 Bowery.  Doyle was acquitted and, although Sexton's death was listed as a homicide, the case was dropped.

When the Civil War broke out, Heinrich Martens's son, Henry, joined the Union Army.  Unlike many soldiers, he safely returned home after the conflict.

In 1869, Martens sold the property to Albert B. and Ann B. Dill.  Living upstairs with them was John Phillips, who was involved in the saloon with them.  Surprisingly for the time, Ann B. Dill was listed as a co-owner of the establishment.

The saloon was taken over by McNulty & Hennessy in 1873.  William Hennessy, who lived at 83 East 1st Street, divided his time between the tavern and his plumbing business on East 5th Street.

By then, the Bowery neighborhood had changed from one of refined private homes to a boisterous district of saloons and music halls.  The upper floors of 305 Bowery were converted to rented rooms which McNulty & Hennessy operated as the Clinton House.

Among the roomers in 1875 was Irish-born James H. McKenny.  He got into a fight with John Riley on Saturday night, November 6 that year.  The New York Herald reported that it "resulted in McKenney receiving a stab wound in the left side.  Riley was arrested."

The disrespectable tenor of the neighborhood was reflected the following year when two roomers were arrested.  The New York Herald reported on August 22, 1876 that "Thomas Varley and Thomas Nolan, of the Clinton House, No. 305 Bowery, [had been] charged with drugging and robbing Celestine Peuzler, a brewer, of Plymouth, Ohio, of $220 and checks for $2,000."

Daniel W. Patterson complained to police that on March 18, 1878 that he, Alexander Darragh, John M. Asbe, "together with several others," engaged in a game of faro at 305 Bowery.  The New York Herald reported, "The complainant alleged he lost $1 on the game and that [Darragh and Asbe] acted as dealers."  The pair were arrested, but Patterson's story quickly fell apart.  The article said, "When the prisoners were brought forward, Mr. Patterson at first said he lost his money during the hours of eleven and two o'clock of the day named, and then asserted it was between six and ten o'clock in the evening.  Finally his story became so contradictory that the Judge dismissed the complaint."

Eugene L. Armbruster photographed the corner in 1924.  from the collection of the Library of Congress

Simon Bower leased the saloon in 1879 and would continue to operate it through the turn of the century.  Under his management, in 1896 the Clinton House became what police called a Raines hotel.  The Raines Law, enacted on March 23, 1896, intended to curb the consumption of alcohol.  It included an exception to the Sunday liquor laws: patrons could be served alcohol with a meal.  Saloon owners circumvented the rules by giving customers a sandwich and, supposedly, a room. 

A disturbing incident occurred here on July 30, 1897.  The New-York Tribune reported, "A man about twenty-three years old, fairly well-dressed, yesterday afternoon shot himself dead in the toilet room of a Raines law hotel at No. 305 Bowery."  There was nothing on the body by which to identify him.

Raines hotels often doubled as brothels.  In 1900, the Annual Report of the State Superintendent of Elections described 305 Bowery as "being maintained for immoral purposes."  And in 1902, Francis V. Greene was removed from the Police Department for patronizing the saloon.  His charges said, "common prostitutes did solicit men for the purpose of sexual intercourse," adding that, "evil disposed persons and common prostitutes did commit whoredom and fornication to the great damage and common nuisance of all good people of the State of New York."

As early as 1908, Thomas (aka Bart) O'Connor and James  Brown, ran the saloon as O'Connor & Brown.  In its May 8 issue that year, Collier's ran an exposé on disreputable dives.  A problem, said the article, "is that certain of the most disreputable places are protected by certain of the prominent politicians."  Among them, it said, was "Bart" O'Connor's saloon at 305 Bowery.  O'Connor, it seems, was well-connected with Tammany Hall officials.

Despite signage that obscures the dormers of 305 and 307 Bowery in 1941, the 1820s appearance was apparent.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The less-than-respectable tenor of the Bowery neighborhood did not improve in the post-World War I years.  On the night of January 19, 1925, for instance, Patrolman Raymond E. McCarthy attempted to arrest a man in the restaurant at 46 East 1st Street whom he suspected had a jug of wine.  Martin Smith, who lived at 305 Bowery, was there.  He and several other men attacked Officer McCarthy and "beat him [and] took his hat and policeman's stick from him, after throwing him out of the place," reported The New York Times.  Smith was charged with felonious assault.

Against all odds, 305 Bowery and its near twin at 307 Bowery, survived while other vintage structures were replaced with apartment and commercial buildings.  On February 24, 1966, The Villager reported that 305 Bowery was on the Landmark Preservation Commission's list of structures proposed for individual landmark status.  Four years later, on January 29, 1970, the newspaper reported on urban renewal plans, noting "Site 2 was approved on condition the structure at 305 Bowery, under consideration for landmark designation, not be demolished."

It and 307 Bowery survived the redevelopment until 2009 when they were demolished for a residential building called Extra Place Apartments.

image via apartmentfinder.com