Showing posts with label west 34th street. Show all posts
Showing posts with label west 34th street. Show all posts

Monday, August 7, 2023

The Lost Alfred L. Loomis Mansion - 19 West 34th Street

 
When this photograph was taken on August 24, 1902, the mansion was surrounded by commercial buildings.  photo by Robert L. Bracklow, from the collection of Digital Culture of Metropolitan New York

Born in Germany in 1815, Rudolph A. Witthaus became a prominent merchant and banker after relocating to New York City.  A clothing importer, he was a founder of the German Savings Bank and a director of the German-American Bank.  Active in civic affairs, he was at one time a Commissioner of Emigration, a Commissioner of Education, and in 1854 was elected president of the German Society of the City of New-York.  He and his wife Marie had one son, Rudolph, Jr.

The Witthaus family is first listed at 31 West 34th Street (later renumbered 19) in 1861.  The mansion sat within what had become the most exclusive residential district in Manhattan.  Steps away, at the northwest corner of Fifth Avenue, was the large brownstone residence of Samuel P. Townsend, and engulfing the Fifth Avenue blockfront between 33rd and 34th Streets were the mansions of John Jacob and William B. Astor.

The Witthaus mansion held its own with those brownstone palaces.  Its Italianate design featured a columned portico with balcony above the centered stoop.  The arched, floor-to-ceiling parlor windows were fronted by stone balconies.  The openings of the second and third floors wore Renaissance-inspired pediments, and carved ornaments decorated the fascia below the bracketed stone cornice.

In 1866 Witthaus retired from the importing business and turned to real estate.  The family sailed to Paris in 1867 to view the International Exposition.  While there they purchased items to add to their already sumptuous furnishings.  The New York Herald described their acquisitions as "magnificent bronzes, onyx vases and clocks."

Rudolph Jr. was nearly lost at sea when he sailed alone to Europe in 1873.  He boarded the French steamship Ville du Havre in New York on November 15.  Seven days later, just before dawn on November 23, the steamer was struck mid-hull by the British ship Loch Earn.   The Ville du Havre sunk "like a stone," according to the New York Herald, which said its passengers were "summoned from sleep to eternity."  Indeed, the ship sank within 12 minutes, its 313 passengers and crew having little time to react.  

Remarkably, of the 26 passengers and 61 crew members who survived, one was Rudolph A. Witthaus, Jr.  The New York Herald reported on December 3, "Mr. Witthaus swam one hour in company with Mr. Barbanson, until picked up by French boats."  Marie, who was in Paris, was the first to receive the news.  She sent a telegram to her husband that said, "Shipwrecked!  Rudolph saved, in perfect health."

Unfortunately, things were not going well at home for Rudolph, Sr.  The New York Times later explained that when he gave up his importing business he had "a large fortune."  But, it said his real estate venture had "proved disastrous."  On March 23, 1877 the newspaper reported, "His financial troubles affected his mind to such an extent that it was deemed prudent by his family about three months ago to send him to a private lunatic asylum at Flushing."  On Monday, March 19, 1877, while his attendant was out of the room, Witthaus "obtained possession of a razor, and cut his throat in such a horrible manner that he bled to death in a few moments."

Marie and Rudolph, Jr. soon liquidated the magnificent furnishings and artwork within the mansion, including Witthaus's library of rare books.  The house was sold at auction in 1880.  Among the bidders was a representative of Dr. Alfred Lebbeus Loomis, who was authorized, according to The Evening Post, "to offer only $60,000."  Loomis's agent placed the winning bid, but at $67,000 (about $1.98 million in 2023) it surpassed Loomis's limit.  The Evening Post reported, "the doctor, it is said, was somewhat displeased when this price was exceeded."

Dr. Alfred L. Loomis, from the collection of the New York Public Library

Born in Bennington, Vermont, Loomis was a specialist in diseases of the lungs and heart.  When he purchased the West 34th Street mansion, he was a professor of medicine at the University of the City of New York, and was a visiting physician with Mount Sinai Hospital.  A widower, his children Henry Patterson and Adeline Eliza lived with him.

In April 1887, the architectural firm of J. C. Cady & Co. filed plans for a five-story laboratory on East 26th Street for Loomis.  Three months later, on July 27, he was married to Anne Maria Morris Prince, the widow of Henry D. Prince, in the Church of the Holy Communion on Sixth Avenue.  The Doctor reported, "Dr. Loomis is too well known to our readers to need any comment here.  The bride...is distinguished by her personal beauty, by her position in society, and by her works of charity."  The newlyweds spent their honeymoon at Loomis's camp "in the recesses of the Adirondacks," as described by The Doctor.

Anne quickly began entertaining.  On November 28, 1887, for instance, The Evening World reported that she "will give a reception on Dec. 7."  

Also moving into the house was Anne's 21-year-old son, John Dyneley Prince.  He was the same age as Adeline Loomis and it was not long before romance bloomed.  The couple was married in the Church of the Holy Communion on October 5, 1889.  The New York Times commented, "The mother of the groom has been Mrs. Loomis for the past two years, and Mr. Prince is now the doctor's son-in-law as well as his stepson."  The newlyweds continued to live at 19 West 34th Street.

The eminence of Dr. Loomis was apparent in 1892 when the Secretary of State, James G. Blaine became seriously ill.  In his 1893 biography Life of the Hon. James G. Blaine, James Wilson Pierce wrote that in October 1892 "Dr. A. L. Loomis, of No. 19 West thirty-fourth street...was hastily summoned to Washington."  Two months later, on December 20, The New York Press reported, "Dr. Alfred L. Loomis returned to his home, No. 19 West Thirty-fourth street, last night."  Asked about Blaine's condition, he was somewhat evasive, saying he "had nothing further to add" to his earlier report.  Loomis was fully aware of the politician's grave situation.  Blaine died four weeks later on January 27.

In the winter of 1895, Alfred Loomis contracted pneumonia.  His illness was short, and he died in the mansion at the age of 64 on January 23.  In reporting his death, the Buffalo Medical and Surgical Journal mentioned, "He served for two terms as president of the New York Academy of Medicine and has been president of the New York Pathological Society and the Medical Society of the State of New York.  His funeral was held in the Church of the Incarnation on Madison Avenue on January 26.

Loomis left an estate of $1 million (about 36 times that much in today's money).  Anne received $150,000 and "his house at No. 19 West Thirty-fourth street, and his horses, carriages, and bric-a-brac," and the summer estate in Ringwood, New Jersey.  Harry Patterson Loomis received his father's medical library.  After generous donations were made to the Loomis Laboratory and the New York Academy of Medicine, Harry and Adeline received the remainder of the estate in trust.

On February 25, 1897, The New York Press reported, "In the home of Mrs. Alfred L. Loomis, No. 19 West thirty-fourth street, the recently organized Woman's Auxiliary to the University Settlement held its first regular meeting yesterday afternoon."  It was the last gathering Anne would host in the mansion.  The University Athletic Club had already signed a two-year lease on the property effective May 1.  On February 13, the Record & Guide noted the organization "will occupy it as a club house when necessary alterations are made."

Established in 1891, the University Athletic Club's members were almost all members of the University Club, as well.  Its objects were stated as:

The particular business and object of said Society or Club shall be the furnishing of property apparatus and facilities for athletic and social enjoyment and recreation to the members thereof, and for the encouragement of amateur sport.

Membership was limited to 1,000.  Appleton's Dictionary of New York and Its Vicinity noted, "Only persons holding collegiate degrees, and graduates of the United States Military and Naval Academies are eligible for membership."  The annual dues were $50, or about $1,800 in 2023 terms.

In 1915, club historian James Waddel Alexander explained, "Its membership was composed, as was natural from the very character of its constitution, of men who were younger on the average than those in the University Club."  The new clubhouse was officially opened on May 16, 1897.  The Evening Post noted, "The lower floors will be fitted for the accommodation of the members' bicycles, locker-rooms, baths, kitchens, etc."  On the main floor was the secretary's office, reception rooms, a billiard room, and a café and "lounging-room."  The second floor held the banquet/meeting room and the library, and the upper floors contained members' bedrooms.

The Evening Post wrote, "The entire house is furnished in mahogany and black walnut, the rooms are all lofty, well-lighted, and richly decorated.  The rear windows of the billiard-room and café open upon an open court with shade trees, which will be used during the summer months."

The club did not renew its lease, and in 1899 the former mansion became home to the City Club.   On May 19, The Evening Post reported that Governor Theodore Roosevelt would be the guest of honor at the housewarming dinner that evening.

In addition to the City Club's own activities, the house was the scene of meetings of various civic-minded organizations, like the Woman's Municipal League.  But its residency, too, would be short-lived.  On December 21, 1903, The Evening Post reported, "Arrangements have been made for the razing of the Loomis house at No. 19 West Thirty-fourth Street, and the erection on the site of a twelve-story business building.  The whole will be occupied under lease by Revillon Freres, furriers."  The article mentioned, "The Loomis house is one of the most conspicuous properties on Thirty-fourth Street.  In the gala days of that thoroughfare as a residential street, no house was better known."

photograph by the author

Construction of F. A. Minuth's Revillon Freres Building began on the site of the Loomis mansion in the spring of 1904.

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Friday, October 28, 2022

The Transformed Manhattan Opera House (Manhattan Center) 311-321 West 34th Street

 

photo by Jim Henderson

Theater manager and impresario Oscar Hammerstein branched into grand opera when he erected his Manhattan Opera on Eighth Avenue near Broadway on November 14, 1892.  The critic of The New York Times was taken with its size.  "The new theatre is very large.  The stage was obviously designed for grand opera," he wrote.  But the cavernous auditorium had a drawback.  "The auditorium must be 100 feet deep...Last night, in the centre of the house, beyond the first four or five rows of seats, it was difficult to follow the speech on the stage," he wrote.

Eleven years later, Hammerstein sought to improve the situation.  In April 1901, his architect, William E. Mowbray, filed plans for a "five-story brick and stone theatre" three blocks away on West 34th Street, just west of Eighth Avenue.  Mowbray projected the construction cost at $300,00o--or about $10 million in 2022.

Oscar Hammerstein I, from Who's Who on the Stage, 1906 (copyright expired)

The new Manhattan Opera House would take five years to complete.  Hammerstein took advantage of the time to recruit the most talented and famous musicians and vocalists in the world.  Upon his return from Europe on April 29, 1906, he told reporters, "When I left New York eight weeks ago I concluded that if I could not create for my Manhattan Opera House an ensemble of such magnitude, artistically, as would eclipse every effort ever made in this direction since grand opera found a foothold in this country, I would abandon my project and give up the idea of giving grand opera for once and all."  The New York Times titled its article, "Hammerstein Declares War In Grand Opera."

Hammerstein had signed contracts with some of the most famous opera singers in the world for his opening season.  Among them were sopranos Nellie Melba and Gabrielle Lejeune-Gilibert, baritone Maurice Renaud, and tenors Alessandro Bonci and Amedeo Bassi.

The approaching opening of the Manhattan Opera House could not have come at a worse time for Hammerstein's rival, Heinrich Conreid of the Metropolitan Opera House.  The Metropolitan chorus singers had unionized, and on November 1, 1906, The Sun ran the headline "Conried Defies The Union."  It reported that he refused to sign an agreement.  The article ended saying, "Fifteen [singers] applied the other day to Oscar Hammerstein for engagements at the new Manhattan Opera House."

Construction was completed early in December 1906.  Mowbray's neo-Classical structure featured five double-doored entrances beneath a glass-and-iron marquee that stretched to the curb.  The seven mid-section bays were separated by Scamozzi pilasters, each window fronted by a stone balcony.  A classical pediment topped by a anthemion fronted the balustraded fifth floor.

from the collection of the Library of Congress

The Manhattan Opera House opened on December 3, 1906 with I, Puritani, although the finishing touches on the building were not yet complete.  The New York Times reported, "Yesterday afternoon, Bonci, the new tenor, and Mme. Pinkert, the soprano, rehearsed with chorus and orchestra while some shifters set scenery and carpenters pounded the last nails.  The din was terrifying."  When Hammerstein held up a finger to stop the work, the foreman told him "We can't get this theater done unless we have every minute, and if we don't get the theater done, you can't give the opera."  And so the workmen continued.  "Bonci sang the rest of his high notes to a hammer accompaniment."

Architects' and Builders' magazine, February 1907 (copyright expired)

The New-York Tribune noted, "To Mr. Hammerstein alone the public is indebted for this new addition to its places of amusement.  He has no board of directors nor opera company.  He is the board of directors, impresario, real estate company, manager, treasurer.  Under his famous hat the affairs of the house will be entirely decided."

At the end of December, The New York Times critic Richard Aldrich deemed the Manhattan Opera "worthy of support," praising the excellence of Hammerstein's productions.  The problems of the former house had been corrected.  Aldrich noted, "Its acoustics are remarkably good.  Notwithstanding its size, it is so built that the audience as a whole is brought nearer the stage and into more intimate relations with what goes on upon it than is the case in the older houses."  The "older houses," of course, included the Metropolitan Opera.

A postcard pictured the venue shortly after its opening.

The international fame of Nellie Melba was such that her debut here on January 11, 1907 caused a near riot.  That evening she appeared with Bonci in RigolettoThe New York Times reported, "The crowd was so large at the Manhattan Opera House last night...that it was necessary for Mr. Hammerstein to telephone to Police Headquarters at 7 o'clock for a squad to control the mob of people in the lobby."  The efforts were not enough.  The "crowd surged up the gallery stairs, breaking away the side railing.  At 7:15 the box office closed, and no more standing-room tickets were sold...In the course of the second act a woman fainted and was carried out."  The carriage man (the uniformed employee who met and opened the doors of arriving carriages) counted 510 vehicles that pulled up to the marquee that evening.

Nellie Melba in the role of Ophelia.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

In 1911 Hammerstein leased the venue to Metropolitan Opera House chairman Otto Kahn.  The contract came with a massive $1.2 million bribe that Hammerstein not be involved in opera in New York City for ten years.  He used the money to erect the London Opera House, in London.  By 1916, the Manhattan Opera House was being managed by the Managing & Producing Co., Inc., headed by Alexander Kahn.  That summer the venue was "lavishly renovated," and it may have been at this time that a sixth floor was added.

The upward enlargement created a bulky, disproportionate appearance.

Oscar Hammerstein died on August 1, 1919.  His wife Emma Swift Hammerstein inherited the Manhattan Opera House.  The venue continued to offer grand opera, opening with Aida that season, followed by La Boheme.  In 1921 Emma sold the building to her daughters, Stella H. Pope and Rose H. Tostevin.

Massive change came the following year.  On March 11, 1922, the Record & Guide reported that the sisters had sold the structure to the New York Consistory, Scottish Rite Masons, "who will use it as a temple after a few structural changes."  The New-York Tribune placed the price at $600,000--or about $9.7 million today.  The newspaper said, "It is the plan of the Scottish Rite Masons to leave the auditorium as it is and hold assemblies and ceremonies there.  Upstairs will be constructed rooms for a library, lounging quarters, banquet hall and kitchen."

If the organization's initial plans called for "a few structural changes," the board soon changed its mind.  On July 30, 1922 The New York Times reported that the Scottish Rite had hired architects Harrison G. Wiseman and Hugo Taussig to renovate the structure.  The "entire Thirty-fourth Street facade will be remodeled and stores added," said the article.  "A large assembly hall and banquet room will be constructed on the present roof."  The article said the assembly hall would be one of the largest in the city, capable of holding 1,200 diners.   The architects placed the cost of renovations at $250,000.

The architects' rendering showed a hipped roof.  The New York Times, July 30, 1922 (copyright expired)

The use of the renovated building as a Masonic temple was relatively short-lived.  In 1927 Warner Brothers leased the auditorium space as a sound stage, and in 1940 it was converted to a meeting hall and multi-purpose venue, called the Manhattan Center.

The meeting hall was a favorite venue for political meetings.  A two-day mass meeting was held here on in 1942 to pressure the Government to release Communist leader Earl Browder from an Atlanta prison.  An announcement in The New York Age on March 28 urged, "Trade unions, fraternal societies, religious and young peoples organizations, send delegates to the National Free Browder Congress at Manhattan Center, 311 West 34th street, Saturday and Sunday, March 28-29."

A banner at this National Communist Party meeting reads, "Communism is 20th Century Americanism."  original source unknown.

A somewhat surprising meeting was held here following the end of World War II.  On January 26, 1946, The New York Age reported on the "Rally for Democratic Japan" to be held on January 24, 1946.  It was sponsored by the Japanese American Committee for Democracy, which stressed, "Japanese who are sympathetic to American ideals must be used in reconstructing a democratic Japan."

The use of the Manhattan Center continued to morph over the decades.  The Manhattan Center Studios was organized in 1986 for multimedia events.  The group opened Studio 4 in 1993, with a cutting edge control room for recordings and live ballroom events.  Other studios followed, all connected to the Ballrooms and capable of recording the events there.

The Hammerstein Ballroom, photo by aconson

The Hammerstein Ballroom was the venue of "WWF Monday Night Raw" airings beginning in January 1993.  Episodes of the "Impact Wrestling" television program were taped here in 2014, and several seasons of "America's Got Talent" took place here.

photo by Tdorante10

The Manhattan Center continues to be house event, production and performance spaces.  And those passing by or even entering the building, can hardly imagine that it was once one of New York City's premier opera houses.

Many thanks to reader Rich Conrad for requesting this post
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Monday, November 5, 2018

The Lost Broadway Tabernacle - Sixth Avenue and 34th Street



At the turn of the last century, the neighborhood around the church was no longer quietly residential. from the collection of the New York Public Library

By the time evangelist Charles Gradison Finney preached his first sermon in New York City around August 1829, he was renowned.  Affiliated with no church, his no-nonsense sermons struck home to many among his audiences.  In 1900 church historian Susan Hayes Ward wrote "The hearer at the time felt that Mr. Finney was talking to him personally rather than preaching before an audience...He did not speak about sinners in the abstract, but he talked to the individual sinners before him."

In December 1831 a congregation was organized especially for the preacher, and on February 14, 1832 the Second Free Presbyterian Church was constituted with a membership of 41. It initially operated from Broadway Hall, just north of Canal Street, and then from the former Chatham Garden Theatre, renamed the Chatham Street Chapel. 

From its inception the church embraced Finney's passionate anti-slavery stance.  Black worshipers were welcomed (albeit in a separated section)--a policy which, coupled with Finney's outspoken abolitionist sermons, did not sit well with many outsiders and newspapers.  During the riots of 1833, a mob broke into the church and attacked black members.  On July 8 the Courier and Enquirer spat "Another of those disgraceful negro-outrages &c., occurred last night at that common focus of pollution, Chatham Street Chapel."

The congregation moved into a new structure in 1836, the Broadway Tabernacle on Broadway between Worth and Catherine Lane.  The following year Finney left to teach theology in Ohio.  But he left his congregation a strong abolitionist legacy.  On July 6, 1840 the church was reorganized under David Hale; but it still held fast to its motto "Slavery and Christianity cannot live together."

The Congregational Quarterly later explained "the encroachment of business compelling families to remove up town, made it difficult, if not impossible, longer to sustain a church in that locality; and, in 1857, the Tabernacle was sold, and the last religious service was held within its walls on the 26th of April in that year."

The congregation paid a total of $78,500 for eight lots on 34th Street at the northeast corner of 34th Street and Sixth Avenue, facing what would later be named Herald Square.  It later sold the northern portion for $33,000, making the net cost of the land about $1.3 million today.

In her 1901 The History of the Broadway Tabernacle Church, Susan Hayes Ward noted "In selecting an architect for the new structure the choice of the Building Committee lay between Mr. Upjohn, the architect of Trinity Church, New York, and of Dr. Storrs's Church in Brooklyn, and Mr. Leopold Eidlitz."  They chose Eidlitz, whose plans were accepted on July 17, 1857 "on the condition that the church could be  built for $73,000."  On Christmas Day 1857 the cornerstone was laid "in the presence of some hundreds of spectators, many of whom were ladies," according to The New York Times.  Inside the cornerstone was a Holy Bible, Church Psalmist, copies of the church manuals, and other documents.  A copper plate read:

The Broadway Tabernacle Church and Society,
Organized July 6, 1840,
after the Congregational order of New England, erect this their second house of worship
A.D. 1857-8
Leopold Eidlitz-Architect

As Upjohn most likely would have done, Leopold Eidlitz turned to the Gothic Revival style.  He faced the church in field stone (described as Little Falls rubble) and trimmed it in light-colored sandstone. Its 89-foot front faced Sixth Avenue and it stretched back along 34th Street 150 feet.  The Congregational Quarterly reported "The style of the building is perpendicular Gothic, carried out with a chaste and almost severe simplicity, which imparts an air of grandeur and beauty to the whole structure."  The corner tower rose 135 feet, dominating the neighboring brick and brownstone residences.


The Congregational Quarterly, January 1860 (copyright expired

The church was dedicated on April 24, 1859.  The New York Times reported that long before they were opened, "crowds were pressing in at the doors."  The Congregational Quarterly said "The interior effect is rich and imposing.  Entering from the Avenue, one sees before him a nave 90 feet in length, 34 feet wide, and nearly 70 feet high--a large church of itself...Through the rich oak-hued case of the organ, there are glimpses of the groined ceiling...Standing at the door of the nave, one is struck with the perfect proportions of the house, the admirable simplicity and taste of its details, and the solidity of the whole structure."
 
Keeping the project within the family, Eidlitz's builder brother, Marc, had constructed the church.  The stained glass windows were executed by Henry E. Sharp (whose "Faith and Hope" window from the demolished St. Ann's Episcopal Church in Brooklyn now resides in the Metropolitan Museum of Art), and the organ was built by R. M. Ferris.


from The History of the Broadway Tabernacle Church, 1901 (copyright expired)

A magnificent new venue, of course, in no way changed the political and social stance of the Broadway Tabernacle.   When the Rev. J. A. R. Rogers was "expelled from Kentucky by a mob," as described by The New York Times on February 25, 1860, for his anti-slavery opinions, he was welcomed as a speaker at the Broadway Tabernacle.  He spoke "upon Southern Christianity, the prospects of Freedom there, and the incidents connected with the expulsion of himself and his brethren from their field of labor."

Later that year, on October 8, pastor Rev. Dr. Joseph P. Thompson spoke about the hypocrisy of some New Yorkers.  "Yet now men calling themselves Christians, who gave largely for foreign missions, pretended to doubt whether it was wise, and safe, and patriotic to talk against Slavery as a system of iniquity, and to vote against its extension."  He told the congregation that returning missionaries told him "that they saw men flourishing here in Broadway who at Gaboon had been engaged in the Slave-trade."

from King's Handbook of New York City, 1893 (copyright expired)

Following the outbreak of Civil War, Thompson was even more energized in his sermons.  On September 26, 1861 he said in part "It is necessary to wipe out Slavery, from the South...It is prying upon our vitals, and must be cut out with the sharp edge of the sword."

As had been the case for decades, the Broadway Tabernacle's outspoken abolitionist policy sometimes made it a target, no more so than during the violent Draft Riots of 1863.  The three-day reign of terror resulted in the murders of black citizens, the burning of the homes and businesses of known abolitionists--even the Colored Orphan Asylum on Fifth Avenue where children barely escaped with their lives.  Christian Work recalled on January 24, 1901 "Union services were so frequent in the Tabernacle...that during the riots of July, 1863, the mob was with difficulty prevented from burning the building."

The incident merely steeled Rev. Thompson's resolve.  He later recalled "During the draft, and when treason lurked at the North, your pastor came into the pulpit and said that we must not give it up.  After the sermon, a meeting was held, and funds were subscribed to raise a church regiment."

Thompson realized that declaration of peace could not wipe out racism.  In his sermon of December 7, 1865 he acknowledged "A gigantic system is slow to die; and when injustice has been sanctioned by custom, legalized by the State, shielded by the church; when wealth and family distinction have been founded upon it, and children trained to practice it, and woman has devoted all the passionate energy of her nature to its support, it is not possible that the spirit of justice will die in an instant."  He concluded "One thing was certain--that the people of the South should recognize the negro as being come at last, and they might as well at once make up their minds to it"

More than 2,000 people filed into the church on December 10, 1865 for a memorial service for the 360,000 Union soldiers who had perished.  In his discourse, Thompson detailed both the number of black and while soldiers who had died in the hospitals, on the battlefields, and in the "prison pens."

The neighborhood around the Broadway Tabernacle was highly affluent.  At the eastern end of the block stood the marble palace of Alexander T. Stewart and the brownstone mansions of the Astors.  The wealth of the congregation was evidenced in 1871 when Thompson announced his retirement.

On October 25 The New York Times reported that the congregation had accepted his resignation.  Following the meeting it was agreed to present him with a gift of $52,000, slightly over $1 million today.

The Broadway Tabernacle continued its policy of outreach.  An annual event within the church was the anniversary exercises of the Deaf and Dumb Asylum.  Citizens could see the fruits of the instruction received by the children, who one-by-one got up before the assembly and performed feats like writing on a blackboard or demonstrating sign language.


In 1878 the Sixth Avenue Elevated was erected directly in the face of the church.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

The church supported a number of organizations like the Seamen's Friend Society, the Home Missionary Society, and the Female Guardian Society.  Equally important was the issue of Temperance and the auditorium was frequently the meeting place of the National Temperance Society.    As was common with the Tabernacle it approached the subject differently than most.

It organized the New-York Christian Home for Intemperate Men at No. 48 East 78th Street in 1877.  The goal of the facility was, according to its president William T. Booth, "to save men who were rendered homeless and had lost everything by their appetite for drink."  Once the men were made sober, they were helped to find employment.

The congregation's concern for and inclusion of minorities extended to the highly discriminated against Asian population.  On May 13, 1884 The New York Times reported "About 900 Mongolians, varying in ages from 12 to 30, sat in the Broadway Tabernacle last evening, and took part in the first anniversary entertainment of Chinese Sunday-schools connected with the churches of New-York and Brooklyn...The Tabernacle was red with flags."

By now commerce had encroached on the formerly-exclusive neighborhood.  The Metropolitan Elevated Railway had extended its tracks directly in front of the Broadway Tabernacle in 1878.  With it came stores and other businesses.


from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

Finally, on December 28, 1901 The Outlook reported that the Tabernacle had sold its property a week earlier for $1.3 million.  "The purchasers expect to build a gigantic hotel on the Tabernacle lot and adjoining property," it said.  The article noted "in the sale of the Broadway Tabernacle the end is seen of a structure of National significance."

The change in the neighborhood is evidenced in 1901 as Macy's department store rises in the background on Herald Square.  from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

In reporting on the last service held in the church on April 27, 1902 The Outlook recalled Joseph P. Thompson.  "Under Dr. Thompson the Tabernacle occupied its most conspicuous place in our history  It had already been known as a place for the oppressed."

The proposed "gigantic hotel" did not come to pass.  Instead the 11-story Beaux Arts style Marbridge Building replaced the church.  Designed by Townsend, Steinle & Haskell, it survives.


from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

Monday, April 3, 2017

The Lost St. Mary's Free Hospital for Children - 407 W 34th St



Traces of the original three-story house remain in the parlor and basement levels.  King's Handbook of New York, 1893. (copyright expired)
In 1870 the Sisters of St. Mary organized a free hospital in a rented house at No. 407 West 34th Street, near Ninth Avenue.  It sat on the southern edge of the notorious and impoverished Hell's Kitchen neighborhood.  Their ambitious and praise-worthy project was part of a trend that had first appeared in the years before the outbreak of Civil War--providing medical care to the children of impoverished families.   The sisters explained later "The hospital is intended for the exclusive reception of children, and it is always to be entirely free to the helpless little ones."

On February 23, 1876 The New York Times reported "St. Mary's Free Hospital for Children, which is now in the sixth year of its existence, has been deemed by its founders so successful as to justify their purchasing the building which they now occupy, together with the open ground adjacent."  The house and the vacant lot were priced at $30,000--nearly $685,000 today--and deemed "as low a figure, it is thought, as it will ever reach."  (In fact, the final price was reduced to $27,000.)

The Sisters of St. Mary's set out to remodel the old house while seamlessly melding its architecture with a new building on the lot next door, creating a modern hospital and nurses' training school.  Having spent a considerable amount of money on the property; a remarkable scheme of fund-raising was hatched.  The Episcopal Church would "sell" bricks to Sunday School children.

The New York Times explained "The cost of the brick when in position is estimated at ten cents, and it is desired to have 350,000, equivalent to $35,000...Although this plan has been originated quite recently, 10,000 bricks have been subscribed, and the popularity of the scheme with the Sunday-school children is such that no fears are entertained of its ultimate success."

In return for his dime, the child received an "illuminated card" signed by Bishop Henry C. Potter, stating that the donor "has placed one brick in St. Mary's Free Hospital for Children."

Despite the Church's optimism, fund raising lasted more than two years.  But on January 5, 1878 The American Architect and Building News reported that Henry M. Congdon had been chosen as architect.  He supplied the journal with a preliminary sketch.  "This design contemplates the alteration and enlargement of the present building, which is an ordinary city dwelling," said the article.

Congdon's water-color rendering appeared in The American Architect and Building News on January 5, 1878 (copyright expired)

Construction began a few months later and was not completed until December 1880.  The Sisters of St. Mary's had a new building, and a major debt; a fact that newspapers were quick to point out to possible donors.  The New-York Tribune, on December 24, wrote "St. Mary's Free Hospital for Children, which has erected a new building at large expense, is one of these well-considered efforts for the amelioration of the condition of poor children."  The article noted "The new building...has entailed a heavy debt, and the Society needs aid."

Congdon's 50-foot wide Queen Anne-style structure was faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone and terra cotta.  Touches of Ruskinian Gothic appeared in the alternating stone and brick treatment of the arches; most notably the Moorish-influenced arch of the entrance.

Taking note of that entrance, The Times wrote "A broad, arched entrance, handsomely embellished with carved stone-work and massive doors ornamented with stained glass, leads to a wide vestibule, in the centre of which is the main staircase."

Polished ash woodwork complemented the pine floors.  The basement level contained the reception room, the drug storeroom, kitchen, and laundry.  The visitors' waiting room was on the first floor, along with a dining room, office and one ward.  The second floor contained the common wards; while the third floor was designated for the nuns.  Here were a chapel, a linen room and the Sisters' sleeping rooms.  The top floor housed a playroom, the operating room, the isolation ward, and servants' sleeping rooms.  The new hospital could accommodate 75 children, between the ages of two and thirteen.

Oddly, at least by today's viewpoint, special pride was taken in the fact that all the plumbing pipes, including those for the steam heat, were exposed.  The Times explained that should a leak occur, "the defect can be readily detected and remedied."

The "handsome new building," as described by The Times, was formally dedicated on December 30, 1880 with a service in the chapel conducted by Bishop Potter.  Among those attending were some of the wealthiest women in Manhattan--names like Livingston, Archibald, Harriman, Miller, Breese and De Forest--a favorable sign for the hospital's finances. 

The directors of St. Mary's Free Hospital for Children, perhaps remembering the success of the brick-selling project, targeted young people for donations.  In the "Our Letter Box" column of Harper's Young People magazine on July 26, 1881 was a letter from Miss E. A. Fanshaw.  In it she played on the Victorian children's sympathies, saying in part:

In the city of New York, as most of you know, there are a great many little children who, when they are sick, or meet with an accident, have no one to take care of them, or if they have, are compelled to stay in a small close room, where there are a great many people, a great deal of noise, which makes it very hard for them to get well.  Knowing this, some kind people have built a house, called "St. Mary's Free Hospital for Children"...under the care of some kind women.  They take in any child, black or white, of any creed under fourteen years old, who has no disease which other little ones might take, so long as they have space and money to take care of them.

Fanshaw suggested that rather than spend their allowances on candy, they might sent it to the Hospital.  "When you buy candy, it is soon eaten, and that is the end of both candy and money; but in this case the good of your money will last always, and the self-denial it costs will help you to grow stronger to 'fight for the right."  And then, to drive her point home, she added "Jesus will know it."

Although today we might question the ethics of targeting children, the urgency of raising funds was always an issue.  In 1893 the hospital was treating 400 in-patient cases and "5,000 suffering children" through the free dispensary.  The yearly costs were $14,000--more than $381,000 today, with no assured income.

Children of the tenements and streets arrived with often debilitating diseases, such as tuberculosis.  On July 16, 1892 the New York Medical Journal reported on operations performed at St. Mary's Hospital for Children by its surgeon, Dr. Charles T. Poore "upon tuberculous hip joints."

The statistics in the article reflected how risky the procedure was in the 1890s.  Of the 65 operations, 32 children were discharged as "cured," 25 died, three were discharged as "relieved," two were discharged with no change in their conditions, and four remained in the hospital.

Before the first guest checked in to William Astor's lavish new Waldorf Hotel in the spring of 1893 a glittering charity event was held in its ballroom.   The Times reported on March 15 "Sweet and gentle Charity was the honored guest at the formal opening of the sumptuous new Hotel Waldorf...The hand of Society greeted cordially all persons who entered the portals of that regal establishment and led them, not only into a realm of splendor and luxury, but into a genial atmosphere of restful enjoyment."

The "sweet and gentle charity" to which the article referred was St. Mary's Free Hospital for Children.  The benefit concert, organized by Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt, Mrs. Richard Irvin and Mrs. Arthur Welman, drew the leading members of New York society.  The one glaringly absent figure was Caroline Astor, who was still fuming over her nephew's erection of a hotel next door to her mansion.

When Harper's Weekly published Congdon's rendering on February 9, 1878, it took the liberty of adding well-dressed New Yorkers--none of whom in fact would have been present in the seedy neighborhood. (copyright expired)

In 1903 the number of admitted children had more than doubled since 1893 to 843; and the dispensary that year treated 14,194 patients.

A few years earlier Dexter Fellowes had been hospitalized with the measles.  He was devastated as his "imprisonment" occurred just as the circus was due to arrive in town.  "He got over them just in time to go down to 'the lot' and see where The Show had been," reported the New-York Tribune years later.  The newspaper wrote "He never forgot that he had lost three hours of Heaven and peanuts."

And so in 1908 when the circus returned to Manhattan, Fellowes, now grown and successful, made sure that no other little boy would miss it.  He arranged to have the circus come to St. Mary's Hospital for Children on April 4.

Remarkably, the baby elephant named Abe Lincoln led the procession, right up the stairs (aided by handlers pushing his broad rear end) and into the hospital.  "Then he paddled down the aisle between the beds, with his little trunk reaching out to grasp the hands of all the boys and girls," reported the Tribune.

The newspaper's report shed light on the sad conditions of some patients.  "It was a pathetically queer little group that sought to grasp Abe's trunk.  Some...had been strapped pappoose-wise to big ironing boards for months, and others were harnessed in steel cages, which keep the soft or brittle bones from giving way.  Some of the little ones could sit up, but there were not many of them."

For an hour the cares of the children were washed away as clowns cavorted with their dogs "and showed how to quiet a squealing piglet."  The writer said "the most intelligent monkey in captivity showed how the 'Merry Widow Waltz' really should be danced."

Fellowes's thoughtful gesture provided more good than he could have imagined.  "In the medical ward the convalescents laughed until the Sisters said that they gained more weight in an hour than they had been expected to do in a week.  The nurses, catching the contagion from the children, displayed more dimples than an ordinary man would think existed in all New York."

Throughout the years socialites hosted charity events in their mansions for the hospital.  On November 18, 1913 Mrs. J. Woodward Haven held a sale of articles "suitable for Christmas gifts" in her home at No. 18 East 79th StreetThe Sun mentioned "Many women prominent in society have donated fancy and useful articles, pieces of wearing apparel and other objects to be sold."

Another sale was held in the mansion of a neighbor, Mrs. John S. Rogers at No. 53 East 79th Street, in March 1918.  The Sun reported "There will be on sale articles suitable for country houses, garden aprons, candle shades, travelling sets of cretonne, patriotic workbags, table covers and other useful articles."

Perhaps most notable of these mansion-based benefits occurred on Tuesday afternoon, January 15, 1924.  The New York Times announced "Mrs. Vincent Astor will open her house, 840 Fifth Avenue...for a concert to be given for the benefit of St. Mary's Free Hospital for Children.  Mme. Bori will sing."

By 1930 the four-story hospital was not only outdated, but too small.  On July 2 that year plans were filed for a $1.5 million, 12-story facility to be replace the Victorian building.  That building was demolished in 1953 to make way for a sprawling warehouse building which was in turn remodeled to office space, known at 441 Ninth Avenue, in the 1980s.

photo via cpexecutive.com

Friday, October 7, 2016

The 1909 Harris Building -- No. 11 West 34th Street



The 25-foot wide home of Warren Ackerman was erected in one of the most exclusive residential neighborhoods of Manhattan.  At No. 11 West 34th Street, it sat only half a block from the brownstone mansion of William B. Astor at the corner of Fifth Avenue.  Four stories tall above an English basement, it was designed in the Gothic Revival style--somewhat unusual for New York residential architecture. 

A land-owner and cement manufacturer, the vastness of Ackerman's fortune was evidenced in his donation of $50,000 to the Marble Collegiate Church.  At the time of the 1889 Johnstown Flood residents worried about the stability of the Feltville Dam, owned by Ackerman.  The Evening World reported on August 2, "Warren Ackerman, who owns nearly all of Scotch Plains and the mountain back of it, has a gang of men working night and day strengthening the great dam."

The Ackermans' residency on West 34th Street was drawing to a close at the time.  The following year Caroline Astor's nephew, William, demolished his mansion at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 33rd Street and began construction of the Waldorf Hotel.  It was the first major incursion of commerce into the neighborhood.

By the time the Waldorf opened in 1893, the Warren Ackerman and his wife had moved on, now leasing their home to high-end boarders.  Among them were Dr. Edwin G. Freligh and Captain William G. Winans, described by The Evening World in 1893 as "the well-known and wealthy clubman and ex-National Guardsman."

In 1898 real estate operator William J. Roome leased the house from Ackerman's widow.  On July 2 The Estate Record & Builders' Guide noted "The building will be altered for store office and bachelor apartments, and when completed Mr. Roome will occupy the store floor as a real estate office."

Roome removed the brownstone stoop and installed commercial space at the ground and former parlor floors.  Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, January 7, 1899 (copyright expired)

The Guide described the newly-converted structure in January 1899.  "The three upper floors of this building have been divided into bachelor apartments of differing sizes, though all possessing those accommodations and conveniences that are now considered necessary in apartments of this class...The rooms are tastefully decorated, and contain mirrors, mantels, open fire-places, hard-wood floors, electric bells, speaking-tubes, gas and electric light fixtures, etc."

William J. Roome, whose father started his real estate business in 1852, stayed on in his renovated building until 1907 while the block continued to change.  By now it was hemmed in by the Samuel Green department store building to the west, and James McCreery's massive department store to the east.

That year American Architect and Architecture announced that Benjamin W. Levitan "will make plans for the erection of a fireproof, iron-front six-story business building" on the site, with an estimated cost of $400,000.   Those plans never came to fruition, however.

Captured just before its demolition, the old Ackerman mansion (left) was dwarfed by the new McCreery Department Store.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

On August 26, 1908 The American Architect and Building News announced a change in plans.  The Eleven West Thirty-fourth Street Company, headed by Frances A. Harris, had hired architect David M. Ach to design a six-story commercial building to replace the old Ackerman mansion.

Ach designed the skinny brick and stone emporium building with expanses of glass which would provide the selling floors with natural light.   The restrained Beaux Arts design featured carved swags and wreaths, and a delicate draping of bellflowers which outlined the upper portion of the gentle, three story arch in the central section.


The building was completed in the spring of 1909 and quickly found a tenant.  On April 10 The New York Times announced that Frances Harris had leased the new structure to "the suit and gown concern known as 'Schreiber's.'"  The aggregate rent of the 20-year lease was $800,000, described by the news paper a "a new high record for Thirty-fourth Street."

The retailer of expensive women's apparel, however, may have been overly optimistic in its ability to meet the high rent.  Just two years later, in March 1911, the store held its going-out-of-business sale.  Schreiber's advertised "Afternoon and Street Dresses" described as "Foulard, French Challies, Organdies, Gingham and all over Embroidered Marquisetts dresses with Cluny lace trimming" which had formerly been priced at $22.50 for just $8.90.  Even at the cut-rate sale price, the customer was paying about $230 in 2016 dollars.

Frances Harris moved his offices into the building, renaming it the Harris Building.  He now leased it to several tenants, the most important being La Resista Corset which took the second floor in 1912.  The firm announced that the space "is to be used, after extensive alterations, as a wholesale and retail showroom."

Joining La Resista Corset in the building that same year were the Eureka Vacuum Cleaning Company's store and the Schrafft Company, which took the store and basement.  Schrafft's restaurant paid Harris $21,000 a year for the space; more than $44,000 per month in 2016.

La Resista Corset Co. remained in the building into the 1920s.  (copyright expired)

The irony of sharing the building with a corset retailer apparently did not occur to the New York County Woman Suffrage Association when it rented offices in 1914.   Other tenants in the World War I years included the Rosenbach Shoe store and A. Morton Oppenheim women's clothing store, both doing business here by 1917.  Among Oppenheim's expensive clothing line in its "four upstairs salesrooms" were "seal plush coats," in 1921.

Schrafft's restaurant was still at street level as late as 1922.  During the Great Depression Henry Tannenbaum's leather goods business took space, and on February 1, 1937 The Wise Shoe Company opened a new store in the building.  Before moving in the shoe retailer remodeled
Edwardian storefront.  The Times noted "It is air-conditioned and has an exterior of modern design in stainless steel and bronze."

The 1937 renovation was not the last; but none would so far-reaching as the 2011 make-over for Foot Locker.  The ground and second floor facades were removed to accommodate a modernistic glass fronted atrium-type retail space; and an expansive window replaced the upper floor openings within the shallow arch.  The opening announcement noted that the second floor, once home to a corset company, would now feature "a House of Hoops shop."

Nevertheless, David M. Ach's squashed-in design still shines through; a relic of a period of extraordinary change on West 34th Street.

photographs by the author

Thursday, November 19, 2015

The Oppenheim, Collins & Co. Bldg -- No. 31 West 34th Street





In 1871, the year that Albert D. Oppenhein and his son, Charles J., went into the skirt manufacturing business in New York City, the block of West 34th Street between Fifth and Sixth Avenues was lined with upscale brownstone residences.  The tone of the neighborhood was set by the imposing mansions of John J. Astor and his brother, William B. Astor, on Fifth Avenue between 33rd and 34th Streets.   The socially-prominent families on West 34th included that of A. R. Van Nest, living at No. 31.  The Van Nest family was among the oldest of New York society.

By the turn of the century, however, things had changed.  The Astor mansions had been replaced by the hulking Waldorf-Astoria Hotel; and many of the 34th Street homes had been converted for business purposes, or razed entirely.  When the National Arts Club was organized in 1898, it took over the home at No. 37 West 34th as its clubhouse.  Here it exhibited paintings, sculptures, pottery, and other works of art.  Two years later it expanded into No. 39; the International Year Book noted “the improvements include a second gallery for exhibitions, which can be thrown together with the old gallery to form a single large hall, and a new art library.”

Although they had lost their stoops, Nos. 37 and 39 W 34th St were otherwise little changed at the turn of the century --Club Women of New York, 1904 (copyright expired)

In the meantime, Oppenheim, Collins & Co. ran its skirt factory at No. 58 Greene Street, employing 400 workers.  And it would have continued contentedly in the wholesale business had it not been for an ambitious young suit buyer from the Meyer, Jonasson & Co. dry goods store.  Isaac Levy had wanted to go into the retail business for some time; and he talked to Charles Oppenheim about expanding his business.

Later The New York Times would recall “Mr. Oppenheim considered the matter, and despite advice from friends who thought he should not branch out into an unfamiliar field, he decided to back Mr. Levy.”

By 1905 the National Arts Club had outgrown its headquarters on West 34th Street.  On Friday March 24 the Tribune reported that the club had purchased the former Samuel J. Tilden residence on Gramercy Park.   Charles Oppenheim wasted little time in acquiring the old houses which the club vacated.

On April 19, 1906 The New York Times reported the Oppenheim, Collins & Co. had purchased the land and “two old dwellings, at 33 and 35 West Thirty-fourth Street.”  The new retail firm had paid a staggering $1 million for the plots, which extended through to 35th Street.  “They will erect a building on the site,” said the newspaper.

Isaac Levy showed tremendous foresight in urging Oppenheim to choose the 34th Street location.  Although The New York Times said it was “quite outside of the retail shopping district;” only one block to the east was the new R. H. Macy & Co. store; and to the west, on Fifth Avenue, Benjamin Altman’s massive Italian Renaissance emporium was under construction. 

Oppenheim, Collins & Co. commissioned the well-known architectural firm of Buchman & Fox to design its new structure.  The fashionable location so near the Waldorf-Astoria meant that Oppenheim, Collins could spare no expense.  The estimated cost of half a million dollars would be equal to about $13 million in 2015.  The Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide pointed out on January 26, 1907, “The façade will be almost entirely of limestone.”  The New York Times chimed in the same day, remarking that it “will embody the latest devices in store construction.”

The completion of the 11-story edifice in September 1907 sparked interest in the block.  The Real Estate Record & Guide pointed out “Since the opening of the cloak and suit house of Oppenheim, Collins & Co., a marked change was immediately noticeable for demand of space in this block, and several large firms are seeking to obtain quarters in this section.”

Buchman & Fox had produced a stately Beaux Arts structure three bays wide.  Sitting on a two-story cast iron base, the somewhat restrained design of the upper floors sprouted carved cartouches, hefty scrolled brackets upholding a sumptuous copper-clad cornice above the ninth floor, and garlands and fruits in the spandrels.  The date of construction was proudly carved into the parapet.

Oppenheim, Collins & Co. initially took the two lowers floors as its retail space; while leasing out the upper floors.  But the astonishing success of the new department store soon proved that arrangement inadequate.

In May 1910 the firm purchased the two adjoining properties at Nos. 37 and 39.  The New York Times reported “Oppenheim, Collins & Co. intend immediately to improve the entire plot to correspond with their present eleven-story building.”   Buchman & Fox was called back to design the $300,000 addition.

The matching facades differed only in the two dates carved into the parapets.

The completed addition was a mirror-image of the original structure.  The sole difference was the new date carved into the matching parapet.  Oppenheim, Collins & Co. not only expanded along the sidewalk level, but took up four full floors of the addition.

The addition doubled the size of the building.  Next door (right) is the North River Savings Bank at No. 31 West 34th --photo by Irving Underhill, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The upper floors continued to be leased to firms like the Haas, Strauss & Co. cloak and suit manufacturers, who took the 7th floor in January 1913.  Also in the building was the showroom of the Royal Worcester and Bon Ton corset company.  That firm’s January showing of its spring 1915 line necessitated invitations.

Prices for these evening coats in 1915 would range from $1000 to $2400 (copyright expired)
In January 1915 The Corset and Underwear Review reported “Demonstrations of all the new models on living models which have been so successful a feature in the past, will be continued, supplemented by lectures on the characteristic features of the new Spring line by competent corset authorities.  Handsomely engraved invitations have been issued.”

In 1918 Maher & Kessler, manufacturers of girls’ clothing, moved in.  The American Cloak and Suit Review noted in December that year “They make a wonderful line of children’s dresses, including the well-known ‘Little Mary Mix-Up Dress.”

Oppenheim, Collins & Co. utilized a clever method of combating the shoplifting of its high-priced merchandise.  Among the throngs of shoppers were plain clothed female store detectives.  One of them, May Boyler, had almost more than she could handle when she approached two thieves on Christmas Eve 1914.

As May watched, Edward Greiner took three silk gowns from a counter and hand them to his accomplice, Mabel Hall.  Mabel stuffed the $400 dresses under her coat and the pair rapidly left the store.  May Boyler caught up with them at the corner of Fifth Avenue and asked for the gowns back; and then tried to take them.

“There was a fight, which attracted a crowd of Christmas shoppers,” reported The New York Times the following morning.  In the scuffle, May’s blouse was ripped off “and she was being severely handled when City Detectives McMann and Faylan arrested Greiner and Miss Hall,” said the newspaper.  Unable to post bail, both were locked up.

The firm's aggressive marketing including what today would be termed "plus sizes."  1923 advertisement (copyright expired)

For years the property next door to Oppenheim, Collins at No. 31 West 34th Street had been home to the North River Savings Bank.  But the classically-inspired one-story building eventually proved too small.  On July 28, 1921 The New York Times reported that the bank had outgrown the old building and purchased property at Nos. 202 to 212 West 34th Street.  “It is understood that the property now occupied by the bank…will be placed on the market for sale.”

Oppenheim, Collins & Co. was about to expand once again.  In December 1921 the bank property was sold for a remarkable $500,000.  The New York Times called it “a price which creates a record price for inside lots in the Herald Square section.”  Within the year a matching, six-story addition was completed.  The Oppenheim, Collins & Co, building now stretched from No. 31 to 39 West 34th Street.

A banner across the front of the bank building in 1921 announced the move.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The store had suffered a daring robbery earlier that year, on the night of October 1, 1921.  In the show windows was a display of valuable fur coats, a tempting target for burglars.  That night, while a terrific thunderstorm raged, a team of three crooks and two taxi drivers acting as accomplices waited until the street lights had been extinguished.  At around 5:30 in the morning they went into action.

A night watchman in the rear of the store heard a shop window crash.  He told detectives later that he fired shots from the center of the store as he ran to the front, “but it took no effect.”  By the time he reached the front of the store, the burglars had made off with two mink coats.  Witness said they saw the men grab the furs and escape in the waiting cabs.

The New York Times reported “Examination of the show window disclosed that one of the burglars had been an expert glass cutter.”  The heist netted the men $5,000 in stolen goods—equal to about $66,000 in 2015.

Theft, as with all department stores, would continue to be a problem for Oppenheim, Collins & Co.  A rather remarkable instance occurred on November 1, 1926; not so much because of the incident, but because of the unlikely pair of shoplifters.

Two weeks earlier 19-year old Mrs. J. Erickson, who lived at No. 471 Central Park West, quarreled with her husband and stormed off to a cabaret.  There she ran into a 70-year old “stooped man,” Arthur Murray, who lived just steps away from the woman, at No. 468 Central Park West.

The little old man was well-known to law enforcement.  He was first arrested in 1875 for petty larceny in Boston and to date had been convicted 15 times.  He recognized in the young, fashionably-dressed young woman an excellent partner in crime.

As was the case a dozen years earlier, female store detectives blended in with the shoppers.  On November 1 Katherine Schimick and Jean Smith were working as a team.  They watched Mrs. Erickson casually take a pair of silk stockings and pass them to an elderly man nearby.  He put them in his overcoat.  She moved on to the perfume counter where the operation was repeated.

When the pair was searched, other articles were found on them.   The teen-aged crook told police “that Murray had taught her to be a shoplifter.”  The New York Times reported “Mrs. Erickson had not notified her husband last night and bail had not been furnished.”

Even the Great Depression had little effect on the growth and the profits of the high-end department store.  When Isaac D. Levy died on September 9, 1934, Oppenheim, Collins & Co. had branched into several other cities and was recognized as a leader in the industry.  The New York Times said “he became known as ‘The prince of merchant princes in the realm of ready-to-wear.’”

The store continued to innovate.  As the opening of the New York World’s Fair neared in 1939, Oppenheim’s new president, Robert D. Levy, announced plans for air conditioning the store.  The system was scheduled to “be in operation soon after June 1, for the convenience of customers during the World’s Fair period,” he said.

Other merchandising ideas included a 50-voice choral group that gave free concerts during the Christmas season of 1943; and regular live fashion shows every season open to the public.

Women who had enjoyed undisturbed shopping for decades were no doubt shocked when in June 1948 the 34th Street sidewalk was blocked by hundreds of union picketers.  Oppenheim, Collins & Co.'s management was infuriated.  On July 1 Gordon Greenfield, secretary-treasurer of the firm, called the union committee members “card-carrying” communists when appearing before a Congressional hearing.  “Mr. Greenfield called Mr. Carnes, president of Local 1250…’a notorious Communist.’” reported The Times.

Despite the disruption outside, nearly all of the store’s employees reported for work during the three-month picketing.  In response, Oppenheim, Collins posted large placards in the store windows “The Issue is Communism.”

In 1950 Oppenheim, Collins & Co. was taken over by City Stores Company.  Simultaneously, that firm acquired another well known department store, Franklin Simon & Co.  Despite a $1 million upgrade to the 34th Street building in 1958; Oppenheim, Collins & Co. was struggling for the first time in its existence.   On December 23, 1960 it was announced that the store had operated in the red during the 39 weeks ending the previous October.

The 1960 renovation resulted in updated show windows and store front.  photo from the collection of the Library of Congress

City Stores Company tried to resuscitate the two divisions by merging Franklin Simon and Oppenheim, Collins in December 1961.   The Franklin Simon store was closed and the firm moved into the Oppenheim building.  Within two years the Oppenheim, Collins & Co. name ceased to be used.

Finally, on March 9, 1977 Morton Siegenfeld, President of Franklin Simon, announced that the 34th Street store would close.   In June 1978 brothers Howard and Yair Levy announced a $1 million remodeling and furnishing of the building to accommodate the women’s apparel specialty store, Extaza 34.  The New York Times reported that “Herman’s World of Sporting Goods will also open its largest Manhattan store in a section of the Franklin Simon building.”

When the Levy brothers’ 10-year lease was up, the building was broken up with four retail stores at ground level and small offices in the upper floors.  Another renovation in 2011 resulted an expansive retail store space on the first three floors, with offices and showrooms above.

Close inspection of the 35th Street facade reveals the Oppenheim Collins & Co. name still visible where the bronze letters were removed.
Buchman & Fox’s two-story storefront was lost decades ago.  The stark white modern front today is a result of the 2011 renovation.  But the upper floors are remarkably intact, looking as they did when a fledgling department store changed the complexion of West 34th Street forever.

photographs by the author