The Lost Havemeyer Building -- 26 Cortlandt Street

 

The elevated train tracks can be seen running along Church Street in 1893.  from King's Handbook of New York City, 1893 (copyright expired)

William Havemeyer established one of the first sugar refineries in New York, Havemeyer & Elder.  By the last decade of the 19th century, the extended family had amassed massive personal fortunes.  In 1891, Theodore A. Havemeyer, who lived in a sumptuous Murray Hill mansion at 244 Madison Avenue, purchased the eastern blockfront of Church Street between Cortland and Dey Streets for $450,000 (about $15.5 million in 2025).  The New York Times remarked on April 22, "The site, which is 200 feet on Church Street by 60 feet front on Dey and Cortlandt Streets, is now covered with old-fashioned five-story brick buildings."

One of the tenants Havemeyer inherited posed a problem for his plans to erect a "new million-dollar, fireproof, fifteen-story office and business block," as described by The Times.  C. W. Meyer was described by the newspaper as "a young man, the son of a Brooklyn liquor dealer."  In 1889, he had signed a ten-year lease on the building at the northeast corner of Cortlandt and Church Streets for his saloon, the Three Owls.  He refused to give up his lease and close his recently opened tavern.  Eventually, Havemeyer gave him an offer he could not refuse.  Architecture and Building later reported, "he paid $40,000 to a liquor seller who had a ten years' lease on the place."  C. W. Meyer walked away with an incentive equal to more than $1 million today.

The New York Times announced, "The building which the sugar king intends to erect will be constructed according to plans which have been drawn by Mr. George B. Post."  The article noted that the cost would be "nearly a million dollars" and that it was expected to be completed within the year.

To support his 15 stories, Post turned to the "cage frame" system--a transitional process between masonry and skeleton construction.  The structural iron was embedded within self-supporting exterior walls.  Perhaps because the construction of skyscrapers was still somewhat experimental, a disaster occurred on the building site on May 5, 1892.  

At 3:15, while about 20 men were at work in the basement and sub-cellar, concrete was being poured at the second floor.  The Evening World reported, "Nearly twenty-five tons of freshly mixed mortar was piled on the firebrick floor, which gave way, burying the men who were at work in the subcellar below.  Seven laborers were in the subcellar at the time." 

Workmen scrambled to extricate the buried men.  "A dozen laborers were set to work digging away the debris," said the article.  The first body they discovered was that of 42-year-old Albert Zimmer.  Miraculously, there was only one other fatality, that of 45-year-old Charles de Sola.  Two other workers, John Hurley and Otto Pabst, were injured "by the falling debris of mortar, fire-brick and iron," said the article.

On January 28, 1893, the Record & Guide reported on the completed building, saying that among the "lofty modern office and business buildings" in New York, this was, "the most imposing and attractive of them all."  The critic praised Post's "artistic power of repetition in design, of majesty and grace in the strong perpendicular lines, of beauty and symmetry in the arches, balustrades and projecting gallery."

Post clad the Renaissance Revival structure in limestone, terra cotta, brick and stone.  The Record & Guide pointed out that modern elevator technology made the 15th story as desirable and "in some respects, more desirable," than the lower ones.  The Havemeyer Building had seven Otis hydraulic elevators, including the first express elevators in the city.  The first stop of those two elevators was the seventh floor.

The narrow proportions of the site meant that every office had windows.  At a time when electricity was unreliable, the Record & Guide noted, "Gas, of course, there is, and electric lighting by an independent system, generated on the premises and in ample supply at all hours."  In addition to innovations like mail chutes, the building offered 24-hour special police protection and watchmen's service.  

While many new structures in the Financial District held the offices of brokers and attorneys, the Havemeyer Building attracted industrial tenants.  While the building was still under construction, space was leased to tenants like the Consolidated Wire Works Company, the National Tube Works Company, the Delamater Iron Works, the Westinghouse Air Brake Company, and building contractors L. & E. Weber.

There were "arcade stores" on the ground floor and 15 stores in the basement level.  The corner store on Cortlandt Street was leased to Leon, "the celebrated caterer, late of Delmonico's and of Hollywood, who will finish and furnish it in a manner calculated in all of its appointments to rival Delmonico's and all other of the famous restaurants of this city," said the Record & Guide.  The upper floors held between 18 and 22 office suites each.  During the warm months, the rooftop was "shaded with awnings and thrown open as a promenade."

Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, June 25, 1898 (copyright expired)

The National Tube Works Company was founded by John H. Flagler.  The private lives of millionaires were fair game for the press, and on May 22, 1894, a reporter from The Evening World appeared at Flagler's office in the Havemeyer Building to get information on the industrialist's love affair.  The following day, the newspaper reported, "Millionaire John H. Flagler and Miss Alice Maudelick, the choir soprano, whose marriage engagement has been reported as broken, have both retired from public view."  

The journalist had also gone to Flagler's East 67th Street mansion, as well.  "At neither place was he to be seen."  The clerk in the office said Flagler was not expected until later in the day "if he came at all," adding that, "Mr. Flagler was in a towering rage over the publication of what he termed his private affairs and would talk to no one about them."

By 1893, the offices of the Street Railway Journal were located in the Havemeyer Building, and before 1896 the Continental Match Company, headed by Edwin Gould, was here.  A much different tenant took space in 1897, however.

In April that year, the Spanish-American War broke out.  The Department of the Navy set up an office in the Havemeyer Building in October, with Lieutenant-Commander J. D. J. Kelley, "formerly of the cruiser New York," according to the New York Journal and Advertiser, in charge.  Kelley's mission was to find merchant marine vessels that "may be quickly armed, manned and gotten ready for work."  And he was eminently successful.

The article said, "It was found that the owners were without exception patriotic, and gladly tendered the use of their vessels to the Government and also were willing to go to considerable expense that they might be properly fitted."  At the time of the article, Kelley had acquired 91 vessels that had been converted to warships.

W. Butler Duncan, Jr. worked in the Havemeyer Building.  On August 27, 1898, The Sun recalled, "When the New York naval militia was called into service by the Government last April one of the first of its officers to pass the examinations and take rank in the navy was Lieut. W. Butler Duncan, Jr."   Duncan had been assigned to the auxiliary cruiser Yankee as senior watch officer throughout the conflict.  Now, said the article, the Yankee had been ordered to New York, "and it is expected that the naval militia will be mustered out on arriving here."

In anticipation of his return, Duncan's co-workers went into action.  The Sun reported, 

The employees in his offices at the Havemeyer building have elaborately decorated the place.  American flags are tastefully draped on the walls and over the Lieutenant's desk, while on the south side of the rooms is a large shield bearing the words, "Victory, Yankee." "Welcome Home" appears immediately below in large gilt letters.  In one corner stands an easel entirely covered with flags.  On this are arranged five photographs of the Yankee, showing the cruiser from different points of view.  The decorations can be plainly seen from the elevated road, which runs on a level with the office windows.

The elevated railroad mentioned in the article (which predated the Havemeyer Building) was an annoyance to the structure's management.  Theodore A. Havemeyer had died in 1897 and ownership of the building passed to the Havemeyer Real Estate Company.  The firm's festering vexation came to a climax two decades after the building opened.

In what might have been viewed by some as astounding hubris on the part of the Havemeyer Real Estate Company, on April 1, 1912 it filed suit against the Interborough Rapid Transit Company, demanding it discontinue operating the elevated line and petitioned "for an order for the tearing down of the station and structure in front of the building."  The allegations were that the tracks "deprived tenants of light and air" and that the passing trains were an annoyance.  "Also it was alleged that the vibrations had impaired and weakened the building," reported the New-York Tribune.  Not unexpectedly, the suit was not successful and the elevated train survived until the late 1930s, longer than the Havemeyer building.

The Navy once again rented offices here as the country poised to enter World War I.  On March 22, 1917, The Evening World posted a list of "Where to Enlist in the U. S. Navy," which included 26 Cortlandt Street.  An accompanying article said, "An entire floor of the Havemeyer building at No. 26 Cordlandt Street has been rented for recruiting headquarters for the Naval Coast Defense Reserve.  There millionaire owners of fast yachts and husky men from harbor tugs line up side by side to enter Uncle Sam's service."  The article noted that the offices, "were crowded to-day, with sturdy men eager to enlist for services afloat."

On May 3, 1917, The Evening World reported that orders had been received at the Third Naval District of the United States Naval Reserve Force here for the "enrolling [of] at least 200 aviators at once."  The article said, "These men need not necessarily be experienced airmen, but they must have a knowledge of gasolene [sic] engines and general mechanics."

The Havemeyer Building survived through 1930.  It was demolished the following year to make way for the East River Savings Bank building, designed by Walker & Gillette, which survives.

image by Tdorante10

Geo. F. Pelham's 1926 310 West 106th Street

 

image via corcoran.com

Born in Canada, George Frederick Pelham was eight years old when his architect father, George Brown Pelham, moved the family to New York City and opened his office in 1875.  The boy learned in his father's office, eventually becoming a draftsman.  In 1890, he struck out and opened his own architectural practice.  (He abbreviated his name professionally, always being listed as Geo. F. Pelham, or Geo. Fred. Pelham.)  Pelham became known for his apartment building designs that drew from historical prototypes.  And that would be the case in 1926 when he was hired by the Harrod Construction Corporation to design a 15-story and penthouse apartment building at 310-316 West 106th Street.

Completed in 1927, Pelham's restrained Renaissance Revival design was faced in gray brick and trimmed in limestone and terra cotta.  The entablature of the noble entrance enframement was carved with foliate decorations that flanked a blank cartouche.  Its cornice supported a broken pediment from which rose a stone framing with swirling volutes that embraced two openings.  The 11-story midsection was relatively unadorned, save for stone quoins that ran up the sides, and a handsome stone balconette at the 13th floor.  Interestingly, Pelham executed the terminal cornice in cream-colored terra cotta.

image via streeteasy.com

The apartments of three or four rooms were described as having "excellent closets" and "modern kitchens."  The commodious living rooms measured 18 by 21 feet.  Rents started at $70 for a three-room apartment and $90 for the larger suites.  (The more expensive base rent would translate to about $1,860 per month in 2024.)

Among the initial residents were Sam Leavin and his wife.  Sam's brother, William, shared the apartment.  The brothers, who worked in the apparel industry, had started out humbly, but were now earning respectable incomes.  And in the summer of 1928, their fortunes seemed to be about to swell.

A decade before the DuPont company would invent nylon hose, American women dealt with expensive silk hosiery that easily snagged and ran.  And so, in 1923, the Leavin brothers had begun working on a machine that would repair runs in silk stockings.  They put their life savings into the project, which no doubt explains why they shared living space.  Now, five years later, they had a prototype.

The investment had been a substantial risk, especially for Sam and his wife, whose first baby was born that summer.  Sam's wife told the Yonkers Statesman, "Just before the baby was born we had our worst days, too.  I thought surely the baby would be sickly and sad, as a result of all our worries."

In August 1928, the Leavin brothers received an offer on their invention--$1 million, the equivalent of $17.8 million today.  But, somewhat surprisingly, on August 13, the Yonkers Statesman began an article saying, "They know what it is to be hungry, but William and Sam Leavin, brothers, of 310 West 106th Street, today had waved aside $1,000,000."  The article said the men decided their machine "is worth more than that.  So the $1,000,000 was given the go-by."  Sam told reporters, "We felt after we worked five years on this thing we couldn't part with it too easily.  There's a certain amount of pride, you know, and wisdom mixed with it."

Sam's wife stood by their decision.  "Sam staked his future on the idea," she said.  "If I hadn't had so much confidence in him, then life wouldn't have been tolerable.  But I was sure it would be successful."  The Yonkers Statesman said, "She suffered with her husband and his brother through the lean days and now she joins in their hope of making financial connections for marketing the invention."  In the meantime, the new baby was blissfully unaware of the passed-up fortune.  Mrs. Leavin said, "she's the best, smiliest baby ever born.  Maybe she realizes our good fortune."

Marcus and Florence Loeb were also early residents.  Born in 1892, Loeb had started out as a salesman with the Reich-Ash Corporation, makers of toilet articles in 1910.  His rise within the firm was swift and on January 1, 1931 he was elected president.  Tragically, his professional triumph would be short lived.  Five months later, the 39-year-old entered Mount Sinai Hospital for an operation.  He died there on June 1.

Not all the residents were so upstanding.  Pete Balitzer, a.k.a. Pete Harris, and his wife lived in the penthouse here in 1936.  They also rented another apartment for business purposes.  Baltizer was described by the Forth Worth Star-Telegram as the, "biggest 'booker' of prostitutes in the city," on May 29, 1936.  The article added, "Mrs. Baltizer [is] a link in the vice chain herself, (madame of a bordello beneath her penthouse)."

The couple's names would become known nationwide when the Federal government set out to break up the crime syndicate of Italian-born mobster Lucky Luciano.  The Balitzers realized that things were getting heated when, according to William Donati in his Lucky Luciano, The Rise and Fall of a Mob Boss, "Thelma Jordan was arrested as she walked toward 310 West 106th Street, the apartment where Pete Balizer lived."  The arrests came swiftly after that and both Pete and his wife turned against the mob boss. 

Even before the jury in his case could be selected, Balitzer "pleaded guilty to compulsory prostitution," reported The  Courier-Journal of Louisville, Kentucky.  And Mrs. Balitzer testified against Luciano at his trial on May 28, 1936.  The Fort Worth Star-Telegram said she:

...looked the swarthy Luciano right in the eye as she told how he had been introduced to her as "the boss" by her husband.

She went further.  She told how Luciano had forced her husband to stay in the racket.  She said when she begged Luciano to let Balitzer go straight, the cobra-eyed gangster coldly dismissed her with, "You know he can't get out unless he pays the money he owes us."

The defense turned on Mrs. Balitzer, going after her "hammer and tongs," according to the newspaper.  The article said she was "soon forced...to admit that she had been married three times, that she started taking drugs in 1932, [and] that she had a daughter."

Understandably, two apartments in 310 West 106th Street became available soon afterward.

In 1952, newlyweds Stanley Zabar and Judith Segal moved in.  Zabar's father, Louis, was the founder of the well-known Zabar's grocery store, which by now had several branches.  Their daughter, Lori, who was born on July 16, 1954, noted in her 2022 book Zabar's, A Family Story, with Recipes, "my parents rented a one-bedroom apartment at 310 West 106th Street...and furnished it in the prevailing Danish modern style."  The couple had had to cut their honeymoon short, to be back in New York "for the opening of a new Zabar's supermarket at Ninety-Sixth Street and Broadway."

Among the Zabars' neighbors were David J. Dallin and his wife, the former Lilia Estrin.  Born in Rogachev in the Russian Empire in 1889, Dallin was arrested in 1909 while he was studying at the University of St. Petersburg.  He was imprisoned for anti-tsarist political activity.  In 1911, he fled to Germany where he received his Ph.D. in economics from the University of Heidelberg two years later.

Dallin's history of conflict with political powers continued when he returned to Russian following the February Revolution of 1917.  He was elected to the central committee of a group within the Russian Social Democratic Labour Party.  He was arrested by the Bosheviks in 1920, and once again fled to Germany in 1922.  When the Nazis came to power, he and his wife, Eugenia, escaped to Poland in 1935.  He divorced Eugenia before relocating to the United States in 1939 with the outbreak of World War II.

He and Lilia lived together before marrying in 1944.  Dallin joined the staff of the anti-communist magazine, The New Leader, a position he would hold for two decades.  While living at 310 West 106th Street, he published ten important works on the Soviet Union.  Soviet defector Igor Gouzenko described his 1955 Soviet Espionage as "undoubtedly the major work on Soviet spy activities."

Dallin died in the couple's apartment on February 21, 1962 at the age of 72.  In reporting his death, The New York Times described him as, "an authority on Soviet affairs and an anti-Communist leader in Russia, after the Bolshevik revolution."

An interesting resident in 1970 was Constantin Antonovici.  Born in Romania in 1911, he studied sculpture at the Academy of Fine Arts in Jassy and the Akademie der Bildenden Kunste in Vienna, Austria.  Before arriving in America, Antonovici worked in Paris, Northern Italy and Austria.

Among Antonovici's works was the tomb of William Thomas Manning, Bishop of New York, for the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.  (Antonovici said during testimony in 1970 that it was "sculpted out of a four ton block of Carrara marble.)  Other works were a wooden statue of St. Luke for St. Luke's hospital, and a marble bas-relief, the Praying Madonna, which was commissioned by the Vatican .

Bernard G. Richards lived here at the time.  The Jewish leader and author, born in 1877, had an astounding career.  He was a member of the American Jewish delegation to the Versailles Peace Conference after World War I, and in 1936 founded the Jewish Information Bureau.  His two-room office on West 57th Street "made a business of supplying instant information," according to The New York Times.  People could call or write in with questions like, "Where can Nazi victims register claims?"  Hoping to educate youngsters on Judaism, he published a series of leaflets, explaining that better Jews become better Americans.  Richards died in St. Luke's Hospital while still living here on June 26, 1971 at the age of 94.

image via streeteasy.com

A century after the first resident moved in, the exterior of Geo. F. Pelham's restrained, Renaissance-inspired building is greatly unchanged.

The 1897 Elbridge J. and Agnes H. Moore House - 268 West 91st Street

 

Agnes H. Moore took out an $18,000 mortgage on 268 West 91st Street in 1897.  The recently completed house was one of a row of seven begun the previous year by developer James Frame and designed by Alexander Welch.  Agnes was the wife of Elbridge J. Moore, and it was common at the time for the title of real estate to be placed in the name of the wives of well-to-do couples.

The Moores' new home was four stories tall and 18-feet wide.  It was faced in gray Roman brick above the planar limestone base.  The entrance was tucked behind two square columns that upheld a two-story bowfront culminating in a stone balustrade.  Doric pilasters separated the three windows on the fourth floor.  

Born in Minneapolis, Minnesota, Agnes Lawrence Hall Moore was the widow of John T. Walker.  Moving in with her and Elbridge were her daughter from her previous marriage, Florence Le Baron Walker; and her mother, Urania Lawrence Hall.  (Urania spoke proudly of having been the first person married at the newly built First Presbyterian Church on Fifth Avenue in 1846.)

Agnes and Florence often appeared in the society columns together.  On January 7, 1900, for instance, the New York Herald reported that Agnes "will be at home to her friends on Wednesdays throughout January.  She will be assisted in receiving by Miss Walker."  

Later that summer, on August 4, Brooklyn Life reported, "Mrs. Elbridge J. Moore and her daughter, Miss Florence H. Le Baron Walker, of West Ninety-first street, Manhattan, sail for Europe next Wednesday on the Oceanic, accompanied by Miss Walker's uncle, Bishop Walker...After traveling through England, they intend to visit the Paris Exposition and the Passion Play at Oberammergau."

The following year, the 91st Street house buzzed with the excitement of wedding plans.  On October 26, 1901, Brooklyn Life reported that Florence would be married to Ernest Sayre Emanuel in fashionable St. Thomas's Church on Fifth Avenue on October 30.

Elbridge J. Moore walked his step-daughter down the aisle of the church that had been the scene of notable society weddings.  The New York Times reported, "A reception followed at the home of the bride's mother, 268 West Ninety-first street."

At the time of the wedding, Agnes was vice-president of the Eclectic Club, founded in 1896.  Club Women of New York described the club's broad interests, saying, "In all movements, whether literary, social, ethical, altruistic or philanthropic the interest and influence of the Eclectic Club will be found active.  Although concerning itself with grave social problems and broadly active charities, yet the club does not neglect questions of literature and language, of taste and manners, while it prides itself also upon the high order of its musical entertainments."

In 1903, Agnes and Elbridge Moore moved to the Ansonia Apartments and sold 268 West 91st Street to Leo J. and Mary C. O'Donovan.  Leo was a partner in the consulting engineering firm Reis & O'Donovan.

Living behind the O'Donovans at 271 West 90th Street in 1906 was another consulting engineer, Clinton H. Fletcher.  At about 4:00 on the morning of June 1, he was awakened by a noise in the backyard.  Looking out the window, he saw a man climbing over the fence into the O'Donovans' yard.  He phoned police, then went back to the window to see the crook at his neighbor's basement window.

"There were heavy iron bars over the window," reported the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, "and the burglar had to pick out the lead, in which they were set, before he could bend apart two of them and squeeze through."  The man disappeared into the dark house.  Police arrived just as the 30-year-old James Thompson was exiting the window carrying a sack of the O'Donovans' silver.  A struggle ensued, during which one policeman was stabbed in the hand with a silver carving fork.  The article said, "The burglar was well marked for identification by the nightsticks of the two officers, when they were through with him."

By 1911, the O'Donovans leased the West 91st Street house to George Washington Hill and his wife.  Hill was an executive with the American Tobacco Co.  (He would eventually become its president and chairman.)  

George Washington Hill, from "Sold American!" The First Fifth Years, 1904-1954

While his wife was visibly social, perhaps none of her entertainments was more high-profile than the theater party and supper she hosted for Mary Lillian Duke, the daughter of Hill's multimillionaire employer, Benjamin N. Duke, and her fiancé, Anthony J. Drexel Biddle, Jr. on May 17, 1915.  The Newark, New Jersey Evening Star reported,

The Tapestry Room at Sherry's was reserved for the party.  The decorations were entirely of white, relieved only by a gilded cage containing cooing turtledoves, which was hung near the entrance.  The guests sat at a large open table and in the centre was a huge cake decorated with tiny electric lights and topped with a miniature bride and bridegroom.  During the supper a travesty on the Biddle-Duke nuptials was shown in moving pictures, giving the humorous details of the preparation for the wedding and those who are to participate, much to the surprise of the guests.

That would be the last substantial entertainment given by the Hills while living here.  On September 19, 1915, Mary O'Donovan placed an advertisement in The New York Times offering the house for rent (emphasizing three bathrooms) at $2,500 per year, or about $6,500 per month by 2024 conversion.  The ad was answered by Geza D. Berko.

Berko was the founder and editor of the Hungarian-language newspaper Amerikai Magyar Nepszava and a leading figure in the Hungarian community.  He and his wife had at least two daughters, Marguerite and Olga.  The family had just moved in when Marguerite's engagement to Dr. Nicholas Galdonyi was announced.  The following year, on October 13, 1920, the Berkos announced Olga's engagement to Peter Fleischer.

The family's affluence was reflected in Geza Berko's detailed wish-list for a country house on April 15, 1921:

Country Property wanted--9-10 room house, 2-3 baths, and garage, in good residential section, with some ground; must be in first-class condition; at most 40 minutes from New York; no seashore; state price.  Berko.  268 West 91st st.

The O'Donovans' last tenant in the 91st Street house would be the Dugans.  Emaline Dugan signed a lease in October 1922.  By 1927, it was owned by doctors Emma Selkin-Aronson and Louis Aronson.  The couple had two children, Arthur, who was 11 years old in 1927, and Agnes, who was four.

Born in 1888, Emma graduated from Woman's Medical College of Pennsylvania in 1910, and was Attending Surgeon and Gynecologist at the New York Infirmary for Women and Children, and Associate Gynecologist at Bronx Hospital.  

A psychiatrist and specialist in diseases of the brain and spinal cord, Louis Aronson was the adjutant neurologist at Mt. Sinai Hospital and attending neurologist at the Vanderbilt Clinic and the Bronx General Hospital.  He, as well, instructed in neurology at Columbia University.  Born in St. Petersburg, Russia, he graduated from the College of Physicians and Surgeons of Columbia University in 1904.

Around 1929, Louis Aronson took up sculpture as a pastime and became adept at portraiture.  The New York Times said, "He was regarded as a good amateur and had exhibited his work at the New York Academy of Medicine.  He was a member of the Physician's Art Club."

Dr. Louis Aronson suffered a fatal heart attack in the house on February 1, 1934.  He was 52 years old. His funeral was held the following day at the Riverside Memorial Chapel on Amsterdam Avenue.  Nine months later, Emma sold 268 West 91st Street to Frank J. Reineske for $26,000 (about $592,000 today), $7,000 less than its assessed value.

Reineske, who lived in Glen Rock, New Jersey, converted the house to apartments.  It was renovated again in 1964, resulting in two apartments per floor and one in the new penthouse level, unseen from the street.

photographs by the author

The 1907 66th Street Studio Building - 131-135 East 66th Street

 

photograph by Gryffindor

The first studio building in America--a structure designed especially as working spaces and residences of artists--was the 1858 Tenth Street Studios in Greenwich Village.  The concept gained traction at the turn of the century, when upscale buildings were erected with soaring studio spaces flooded with natural light from vast windows.  In 1905, a syndicate including artist Walter Russell laid plans for a sumptuous studio building at the northeast corner of 66th Street and Lexington Avenue.

Interestingly, the group, called the East 66th Street Studio Building, hired the architectural firm of Pollard & Steinam and B. Hustace Simonson to prepare the plans.  But at some point, Charles A. Platt took over the project.  And he was much more than a hired architect; he was an investor.  Upon the building's completion, an announcement in The New York Times on December 5, 1907, noted that the corporate name of the East 66th Street Studio Building had been changed to Nos. 131-135 East 66th Street.  It was signed by "Charles A. Platt, President."

from Monograph of the Work of Charles A. Platt, 1913 (copyright expired)

The 11-story, Renaissance Revival style structure was faced in limestone.  An urban palazzo, it featured two bold and elegant entrances with imposing broken pediments atop double-height Scamozzi columns.  Divided into four horizonal sections by bandcourses and intermediate cornices, the building is crowned by a dentiled and modillioned cornice that the Landmarks Preservation Commission has called, "one of the finest in the city."

from Monograph of the Work of Charles A. Platt, 1913 (copyright expired)

An advertisement called the 10- and 12-room suites, "houses within [an] apartment house."  The ad described the "smaller 4 and 7 room suites" as being "quite as desirable in their own way."  The building had both cooperative apartments and rentals.  Among the initial residents of 131 East 66th Street were its designer, Charles A. Platt, and his second wife, Eleanor Hardy Bunker.  The couple's summer home was in Cornish, New Hampshire.

The soaring studios with their nearly double-height windows were on the north side of the building, unseen from the street.  They attracted artists like Elizabeth Gowdy Baker, who held an exhibition of "portraits in aquarelle," as described by The New York Times on April 1, 1914, in her studio through April 4 that year.  Resident Henriette A. Clark exhibited at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts the following year.

Two views of Charles A. Platt's studio.  from Monograph of the Work of Charles A. Platt, 1913 (copyright expired)

The bachelor artist William Howard Hart was an early resident.  The 50-year-old landscape artist hosted a "soiree Francaise" in his studio on the night of January 27, 1913.  The Sun reported that Le Peril Jaune "was acted by Mme. Henri Goiran, wife of the French Consul in New York; Mlle. de Sombreuil, Reginald Francklyn and Rene Wildenstein."  Additionally, "Mlle. Regnier and Gerald Onativia gave Louis XV dances in costume, and afterward there was general dancing."

Platt was not the only architect in 131 East 66th Street.  William Emerson was here by 1913 when he and the recently widowed Frances Hillard White Moffat surprised society by marrying.  George Barclay Moffat, who was a Harvard classmate of Emerson, died on December 4, 1911.  The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, on January 15, 1913, said that Frances "had been a widow only a little more than a year" and explained, "the marriage is the culmination of a friendship of more than ten years' standing."

William Emerson, from the Century Association Archives.

Pianist, conductor and composer Ernest Henry Schelling and his wife, Lucie Howe Draper, lived here at the time.  Born in New Jersey in 1876, Schelling was a child prodigy, making his debut at the Academy of Music in Philadelphia at the age of four.  In 1896, at the age of 20, he began studying with Ignace Paderewski.  The teacher-pupil relationship grew to a life-long friendship.

On April 29, 1915, The Sun reported, "Mr. and Mrs. Ernest Schelling gave a dinner and reception last evening at their home, 131 East Sixty-sixth street, for Ignace Paderewski, the pianist."  The guest list included not only figures from the musical world, but from Manhattan's social elite, including the Harry Harkness Flaglers, Mrs. Henry A. Alexander, and Alessandro Fabbri.

Artist and dealer Alice Creelman and her husband, journalist James Creelman, were also residents of 131 East 66th Street.  On the afternoon of December 14, 1916, Alice hosted a "private benefit entertainment" in her apartment at which Augusta C. Gaynor sang.  Her appearance was notable.  The previous day she had announced, according to The New York Times, that she, "is shortly to make her debut as a professional concert singer."  She was the widow of assassinated New York City Mayor William J. Gaynor, who had died three years earlier.

Interestingly, four years later Augusta Gaynor moved temporarily into the Creelman's 131 East 66th Street suite.  She announced the engagement of the youngest of her seven children, Ruth Merritt Gaynor, here on December 9, 1920.  

And the following month, on January 15, 1921, Brooklyn Life reported, "The marriage of Mrs. Helen Gaynor Bedford, daughter of Mrs. William J. Gaynor and the late Mayor Gaynor, and Mr. Whitney Kernochan, son of Mr. and Mrs. J. Frederick Kernochan...took place Friday afternoon, January seventh, at the home of Mr. and Mrs. James Creelman."

The Platts' library featured herringbone floors, an antique mantel and a stenciled, beamed ceiling.  from Monograph of the Work of Charles A. Platt, 1913 (copyright expired)

In the meantime, on February 24, 1918, the New York Herald reported, "Mr. and Mrs. Chandler P. Anderson have returned to 135 East Sixty-sixth street from a visit to the Spanish Ambassador and Mme. Riano in Washington, D.C."  Chandler Parsons Anderson was the first Counselor of the United States Department of State and his wife was the former Harriet S. Ward.  During World War I, he served as special counsel on international affairs within the War Industries Board.  The couple's summer home was in York Harbor, Maine. 

Chandler Parsons Anderson, from the collection of the Library of Congress

A prominent couple in 135 East 66th Street were historian Henry Osborn Taylor and his wife, the former Julia Isham.  Born in 1857, Taylor was an authority on ancient literature and culture.  He and Julia were married in 1905.  Their apartment included architectural pieces imported from Europe, including "a pair of old Italian doors of bronze and wood, and an old Italian stone mantelpiece," as later mentioned by The New York Times.

Henry Osborn Taylor, from the 1917 Harvard College Class of 1878 Secretary's Report (copyright expired)

When Julia's brother, artist and writer Samuel Isham, died in 1914, leaving an estate equal to more than $15.7 million in 2024, he bequeathed all his "paintings, family silver, plate and bric-a-brac to his sister," as reported by The Sun on June 21.  She also received "$250,000 outright."  That amount would translate to $7.86 million today.  Included in the artwork was a collection of Japanese prints that Julia donated to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  In appreciation, she was made a Fellow in Perpetuity.

And when she inherited what a century earlier had been the Isham family's country estate at 212th Street and Broadway, she donated it to the city.  It became Isham Park.

Julia Isham Taylor died in the apartment on March 6, 1939 at the age of 74.  Henry Osborn Taylor survived her by two years, dying here on April 11, 1941 at the age of 84.  He left the bulk of his estate to Harvard College "to help increase the salaries of the professors, teachers and instructors."

On September 8, 1939, The New York Times reported that T. G. MacKenzie and his wife, Ethel Maude, had taken "a nine-room duplex apartment."  The couple's quiet life here would be a welcomed change.  Thomas George MacKenzie was a mining engineer.  Born in Nova Scotia in 1882, his career had taken him from Cape Breton, Canada to Mexico in 1912.  In 1924, he was taken hostage by Hipolito Villa, brother of Pancho Villa.  He was held for three months before escaping.  Maude had worked tirelessly in the meantime to try to achieve his release.

In 1924, Charles A. Platt was selected to design the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C.  It would be one of his last major commissions.  He died at the Cornish, New Hampshire estate on September 12, 1933 at the age of 71.  Eleanor Hardy Platt survived him by two decades, dying in Cornish on November 26, 1953 at the age of 84.

Hildreth Meière lived here at mid-century.  The most prominent muralist of her day, she was highly instrumental in introducing Art Deco to America.  She was responsible for, among other important works, the striking red mosaic walls at One Wall Street, the colorful figurative roundels of Radio City Music Hall, and The Pillars of Hercules, now in the Center of Hellenic Studies in Washington, D.C.

A fascinating resident was Gretchen Green, whose 1936 autobiography The Whole World and Company chronicled her astounding career.  The daughter of an itinerant preacher, she studied at the College Settlement in Philadelphia and the New York School of Philanthropy.  Her varied positions included a police officer and welfare director in Boise, Idaho, and a worker at Ellis Island helping incoming immigrants.  She worked in Moracco, ran a women's clinic at Tagore University in India, and operated tea houses in Venice.

During World War II, Green ran a Camel Corps in Africa for General Archibald Wavell, and worked in Royal Air Force Clubs in Britain and in Bahrein.  In New York, she opened Miss Green's Canteen for servicemen and furnished the Lady Halifax Club at 587 Fifth Avenue, for British servicewomen stationed here.  Following the war, her work in helping Britain rebuild earned her membership into the Order of the British Empire.  She was, as well, a founder of the School for Seeing-Eye Dogs.  

At the beginning of the 21st century, Robert and Blaine Trump purchased and combined three units--a duplex and two one-bedroom apartments--into a 6,500-square-foot residence.  They hired designer Greg Jordan to plan the space.  In addition to the $8 million they spent on the apartments, by May 2006 they had spent an additional $1.5 million in design and construction costs.  Then, with the apartments gutted, they separated after two decades of marriage.  They put the "far-from-finished triplex," as described by William Neuman of The New York Times on May 14, 2006, on the market for $17 million.

image via compass.com

Henry Hope Reed of the Municipal Art Society testified during the Landmark Preservation Commission's hearings in 1970 regarding the designating of 131-135 East 66th Street as an individual landmark.  He described the structure as "one of the finest" of the New York apartment houses of "the American Renaissance."

The Richmond - 153 East 88th Street

 

The extended Rhinelander family traced its American roots to Philip J. Rhinelander, who arrived in 1689.  William Rhinelander established a "summer seat" on the Upper East Side in 1798 and the family's holdings were augmented over the decades.  In the 1880s, individual family members began developing the properties they had inherited along East 88th and 89th Streets.  Laura V. Rhinelander owned the land at 153 East 88th Street as early as 1887.  Within three years she had replaced the stable on the site with a four-story flat building.

Called The Richmond, the Renaissance Revival structure was faced in sandy-colored brick.  The arched openings of the first floor contrasted with the flat-headed windows of the upper stories.  Brick piers at the top floor were capped with ornate terra cotta capitals.  A parapet sat atop the understated, dentiled cornice.  The heavy, ornamental railings guarded the short stoop were nearly outdone by the intricately scrolled fire escape railings.

Close inspection reveals the ornate ironwork that still survived in 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

There were two apartments per floor, each with a bathroom and steam heat.  An advertisement in The Evening Post on April 30, 1892 read:

"The Richmond," 153 East 88th St.--Cosey unfurnished apartments to rent to small families of adults; good management; rents, $31 to $33; very genteel; only eight apartments in house.

The more expensive rent would translate to about $1,140 per month in 2024.  The management was intent that the Richmond remained respectable.  Three years after the above ad intimated that no children were allowed, another in The New York Times offered apartments, "to let to clerks, salesmen, bookkeepers and genteel families."

Stockbroker William Hubbard and his wife lived here in 1899 and took in a boarder, E. Fox Leonard.  Leonard did not come home on July 1 that year and the following day The New York Morning Telegraph reported, "The young man found in a Thirty-ninth street flat, stupid from the effects of opium, died at 1:30 o'clock last night at Roosevelt Hospital."  Leonard had gone to an opium den run by two women.  The article said, "In the flat where the young man was found was an elaborate layout such as is used by opium smokers."

The residents of The Richmond were comfortably middle-class and owning a motorcar--an expensive luxury at the turn of the century--was not out of the question.  But one resident may have been operating a scam of sorts.  On November 14, 1908, an advertisement in The New York Times read:

Because I am going abroad I must sell at once my two fine 3-0 H. P. Studebaker touring cars. These are great bargains and in splendid condition.  An excellent opportunity to get a high-grade car cheap.  For further particulars address V. A. Villard, 153 East 88th Street, city.

Why Villard would have two touring cars or how he could afford such an expense is suspect.

Laura Perring lived here at the time.  Her apartment doubled as her studio where she taught voice and piano.  An ad in January 1909 offered, "The art of ballad and song singing correctly taught.  Also piano.  Special attention given to beginners.  Church singers coached.  Accompanying."

John Downing lived here and was the building's janitor by 1911 when he got himself in serious trouble with Mrs. Kate Bedingfield, who lived on Lexington Avenue.  There was a fenced lot next to 153 East 88th Street.  On April 11, 1911, The Evening World suggested, "A vacant lot, surrounded by a high fence, holds out its allurements next to the flat house.  Small boys have made bold to climb the fence and play."  Downing, described by the newspaper as "six feet tall, forty-five years of age," seems to have appointed himself custodian of the lot, as well.

Downing had caught a group of boys, including Kate Bedingfield's 11-year-old son, George, clambering over the fence.  He struck George on the back and legs with a broomstick.  George ran home and told his mother, who had John Downing arrested for disorderly conduct.

Kate and George Bedingfield faced off with Downing in Magistrate Steinert's courtroom on April 10.  It did not go well for Downing.  Steinert said to him:

You are a brute.  A man like you and as old as you are ought to know better.  You ought to know that we have to put up with a good many things from these little fellows nowadays.  They have few places to play, and when they see a vacant lot they are going to take charge of it.

Downing was fined $300.  The Evening World reported, "And now the small boy population of the upper east side is ready to make Steinert President or let him carry the bats for the Giants."

A fascinating resident was archeologist Ambrose Lansing.  Born in Cairo, Egypt in 1891, his wife was the former Caroline Cox.  Although he was just 28 years old in 1919, Lansing had made an important mark in Egyptian archeology.  On August 14 that year, the New York Herald began an article saying, "Important additions to the treasures of Egyptian art in the Metropolitan Museum will be made as soon as the material excavated by Ambrose Lansing, of the Museum's archaeological staff, reaches this country from the banks of the Nile."  During his four-year expedition, Lansing had discovered the tomb of Pedu Bost, "ruler of Thebes, then the capital of Egypt, about 700 B. C.," as well as that of a high priest in Luxor.

Ambrose Lansing, original source unknown

Lansing, who arrived home on August 13, had packed up 30 cases of artifacts for shipment to the museum.  The New York Herald noted, "An interesting feature of the work done by Mr. Lansing at Thebes was the discovery of inscriptions showing definitely that the reigning queen of upper Egypt at the time was Amenirdis."

Equally interesting was Anna L. Fisher, who lived here in 1927. In 1918, she was sent by the Red Cross Commission to Palestine, and in 1920 worked with the American Red Cross in Damascus.  Because of her work there, "Mrs. Fisher was appointed a Captain in the Arabian Cavalry, and with her rank she received a beautiful Arabian mare, the personal gift of Emir Feisal," reported The New York Times. 

In 1922, Fisher took on a new role, becoming manager of the restaurant at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  Now, in the fall of 1927, she was packing up her apartment in preparation for a move to the Middle East.  On November 27, The New York Times reported she, "has been appointed by the Iraq Government to be an attaché of the Ministry of Education in that country, and to engage in social work among the Arabs."

Fisher told a reporter from The Times, "I am very much attached to King Feisal.  He is a great man, exceptionally broadminded, and he has vision.  The Arabs are very fine people and I enjoy my work with them."

In June 1933, Philip Rhinelander sold 153 East 88th Street to Louise M. Clews.  A renovation completed in 1966 resulted in a doctor's office suite on the first floor.  It may have been at this time that the ornate Victorian fire escapes and stoop railings were replaced with less interesting examples.  There are still two apartments per floor above the first floor.

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The Lost Elberon Hall - 385-386 Central Park West

photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In an article titled, "The Apartment House Work of Central Park," on February 15, 1902, the Record & Guide described Leon A. Liebeskind as one of New York City's most successful builders of apartment houses.  The article noted he "has now been in the building business in New York City for some fifteen or sixteen years, during which he has erected many apartments."

A year after that article, on April 15, 1903, the journal reported that Liebeskind had purchased a 55-foot wide plot on Central Park West between 98th and 99th Streets.  The article said he, "will erect an apartment house on the site."

Completed in 1904, the Renaissance Revival style structure featured a handsome portico with paired, Scamozzi columns.  Above the two-story, rusticated stone base were seven stories of beige brick.  Intermittent stone bays within the central section were flanked by gently rounded bays.  A tiara-like stone balustrade crowned the cornice.

There were two eight-room apartments with two baths per floor--north and south.  "Nothing will be found wanting which would tend to make these the most desirable housekeeping apartments in the city," said an advertisement in The New York Times on August 28, 1904.  Each had a "butler's pantry and reception and private halls which open upon every room."  Because Elberon Hall was intended for affluent tenants, the apartments included an "extra large fireproof jewelry safe" and a silver safe.  "There is liveried hall and elevator attendance day and night," said the ad, and "long distance telephone in every apartment, etc."

Tenants of Elberon Hall would enjoy a unique amenity.  "A special feature of the bathrooms is the Russian and Turkish Bath attachments, something heretofore unknown in private apartments," explained an advertisement.

The New York Times, August 28, 1904 (copyright expired)

Although the sons of Elberon Hall families certainly did not need to resort to crime for money, two brought unwanted publicity when they were arrested in separate incidents.  The first was 19-year-old Robert Turner.  On September 6, 1907, The New York Times reported, "In the arrest of three youths yesterday afternoon, detectives of the Central Office believe they have caught the burglars that for ten days have been ransacking flats in the Harlem district."  Turner and his cohorts were seen breaking into an apartment on West 112th Street.  Two were captured as they carried bundles out of the building.  Turner rushed back to the apartment.  The New York Times reported, "lowering himself through the window, [he] dropped to the bottom of the air shaft.  His cry of pain told the waiting policemen where to look for him."  The teen had badly fractured his right leg.  The three were charged with attempted burglary.

Ferdinand Herrman was the son of Morris Herrman, who the New York Press said was, "reported to be a millionaire and is president of the Herrman Realty Company."  Like Robert Turner, he broke into Harlem apartments.  On May 17, 1909, the 22-year-old was charged with grand larceny for having burglarized the St. Nicholas Avenue apartment of Charlotte Harris 13 days earlier.  He and his female accomplice were tracked down after they pawned some of the $1,300 worth of jewelry and silverware.

Young Herrman tried desperately to avoid publicity.  When arrested he said his name was Ferdinand Ladau.  At Police Headquarters, he gave his address as 437 Central Park West, and in court as 473 Central Park West.  Morris Herrman provided the $1,500 bail (equal to nearly $52,000 in 2024).  Shortly afterward, Mrs. Harris dropped her complaint, prompting strong suspicions that Herrman had paid her handsomely.

Nevertheless, the Herrman family stuck to the story that the accused burglar was the concocted Ladau, not Herrman.  A reporter from the New York Press who went to the Herrman's Elberon Hall apartment was told that Morris Herrman "had gone out of town."  A "young man who said he is a brother of Ferdinand Herrman, explained that Ferdinand Herrman had been absent in the West for six months," said the article.  As to the Ferdinand Ladau case, the young man said "he could not discuss that nor explain his father's interest in the case." 

As the reporter left, he stopped a hallboy and asked if Ferdinand Herrman was home.  "No," he answered, "he went out about ten minutes before you came.  He told me that if any one asked for him to say he did not live here."

Joseph M. Kahn and his family were victims of a brazen burglar on January 28, 1912.  Six burglaries had recently been committed in the section of Central Park West between 95th and 100th Street.  Police surmised the thief used a rope and iron hook to access the apartments--tossing the hook up to the fire escape, then pulling himself up.

That evening, between 7:00 and 8:00, Kahn and his wife were entertaining Kahn's brother-in-law, David Roth, and two nieces of Mrs. Kahn, "Miss Largman and Miss Denitz," in the drawing room.  The Kahns' small son was also there.  While they chatted, the burglar was at work.  The New York Times reported, 

...after reaching the fire escape [he] entered the window of the bathroom, which was not locked, and took most of his loot from two bedrooms...All told he got away with about $1,500 worth of things, among them a pony coat, a silver mesh bag, a set of red fox furs, a polo coat, a handbag containing clothing worth $150, another set of furs, a pocketbook in which was $50, a gold and ruby and a gold and emerald bracelet, several chains, and rings and several gowns.

Living here at the time were Frank C. Van der Veer and his wife.  The couple had two adult sons, Thomas C., who was an attorney, and Willard, an actor.  Thomas, who lived elsewhere, died at the age of 42 on May 7, 1913.  Willard, who was an actor, lived here with his parents.  Born in 1894, he made his stage debut in The Bad Samaritan at the age of 10.  He had appeared with stars of the day--John Griffith in Richard III, with Mabel Taliaferro in Polly of the Circus and in The Sign of the Four, and with Ben Greet in Macbeth, for instance.

As motion pictures developed, Willard Van der Veer switched course, first becoming a cameraman with studios like Vitagraph and Edison.  He remained in the Elberon Hall apartment as late as 1918.  Later, he would accompany Admiral Richard E. Byrd's expeditions to the Artic and Antarctic, earning an Academy Award for his cinematography of polar scenes released in a Paramount documentary in 1930.  (Interestingly, his son, Frank, would also win an Academy Award for his special effects work in the 1976 King Kong.  Frank Van der Veer also did special effects for hit films like The Towering Inferno, the 1977 Star Wars, and Clash of the Titans in 1981.)

Another early tenant was Brigadier General James Nicholls Allison.  Born on September 4, 1848 in Catlettsburg, Kentucky, he had served in the Civil War from 1863 to 1865.  He was active until his retirement from the U.S. Army in 1912.

Elberon Hall was well known as a luxury building at the time.  In 1913, an eight-room apartment with two baths rented for $1,600 per year--about $4,250 a month in 2024 terms.

The building was owned by Herman Auerbach, who lived in the northern apartment on the seventh floor with his wife, Claire, and their three children, Beatrice, Daisy and Lester.  Herman was the head of the Auerbach Realty Company.  

On February 1, 1915, the New-York Tribune said the 49-year-old had "accumulated a fortune in the candy business, in which he had been associated with his father and brother."  He had withdrawn from the family firm a little over five years earlier to establish his real estate firm.  Now, said the newspaper, "He lost that fortune speculating in real estate."

The Auerbach children had been reared in privilege.  Both daughters "intended to go to college," according to the article.  As Auerbach's financial condition worsened, he first mortgaged Elberon Hall, then sold it.  Secretly, Daisy and Beatrice schemed to take stenography courses to help out.  Despite their parents' insistence that they give up their business studies, they continued and eventually got jobs.  Auerbach refused to allow Lester to drop out of De Witt Clinton High School to follow his sisters' lead.  

On February 1, 1915, The New York Times reported that a nephew of Herman Auerbach had arrived at Elberon Hall at 9:00 the previous morning to take Beatrice skating.  The telephone operator rang the apartment and the maid, Lattie Schliep, said none of the family was up yet. 

"Then call Lester," said the nephew.  Lester, who was 14, came to the phone, took the message, and told his cousin to call back at about noon.  He then decided to wake Beatrice and tell her of the invitation.

He walked down the corridor to the sleeping room of Beatrice, 18 years old, and her sister Daisy, 16, knocked at the door, and receiving no response, opened the door and looked in.  The two girls lay motionless, with their pillows stained crimson.

Lester shut the door and ran down the hall to his parents' room.  When no one answered his "frantic pounding," he went in.  "He saw his father and mother lying dead, with bullet wounds in their heads."  

Herman Auerbach had purchased a rifle and a silencer a few days earlier.  He had shot his 34-year-old wife and two daughters in the back of the head while they slept, then turned the rifle on himself.  As Lester ran to tell the maid, he noticed a note on his bedroom door from his father.  "When you wake up," it said, "telephone to Uncles Joe and Leo and grandpa."

The New-York Tribune traced Auerbach's movements.  February 1, 1915 (copyright expired)

The Evening World said the coroner felt the triple murder and suicide "was due to temporary insanity, brought on by imminent poverty after a life of prosperity that at one time put him in the millionaire class."  It was surmised that Lester was spared because "he was a boy" and could fend for himself.

Colonel John W. Schultz de Brun and his family lived here at the time of the tragedy.  Son Harry C. W. Schultz de Brun was exceptionally well-educated.  He was a graduate of New York University, Fordham University and the University at Bordeaux, France.  When American entered World War I, he joined the Army, serving as a surgeon with the allied forces and with the American Expeditionary Forces.  

Harry C. W. Schultz de Brun would eventually be promoted to the rank of major.  Amid the horrors of war, he found love.  Mathilde Dolmetsch, who lived on West End Avenue, was in Europe as an ambulance driver for the National League for Women's Service.  At the end of the war, on October 11, 1919, her parents announced her engagement to Schultz de Brun.  The couple was married in the Collegiate Reformed Church on June 12, 1920.

Elberon Hall was sold to an investor on April 23, 1929.  It was "entirely renovated" in 1937, according to court papers later.  The sprawling apartments were divided into 3-1/2 room suites.  The renovations included bathrooms with, "tile floor, tile wainscot, plaster walls and ceiling, pedestal basin, toilet with flushometer, built-in tub with shower."

photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

By then, Elberon Hall was an anachronism.  The other turn-of-the-century apartment buildings along Central Park West had been replaced during the 1920s with high-rise Art Deco structures.  Unlike those buildings, it was not the change in fashion that doomed Elberon Hall, it was the mid-century urban renewal trend.

On April 10, 1958, the New York Post reported, "The building is in good physical condition but is to be demolished soon under the redevelopment plan."  The Urban Relocation Management, Inc. had been hired to find housing for the tenants.  A month earlier, on March 3, after 17 residents did not immediately accept the option, the elevator suddenly stopped working.  Since then, said the article, "elderly persons and mothers with small children have been forced to walk up and down."

Eventually, all the tenants were evicted and moved to new housing.  The site of Elberon Hall is now part of a vast parking lot for the resultant apartment houses, completed in 1961.