T SIDE and WEST SID

[591-593, 610-12 Something, Manhattan, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click either image for a much larger view.]

I chose these photographs for the signage and for the fellow who appears to be iceskating his way into the frame. The 1940s.nyc website shows both locations on West Street, with nothing nearby that would make them identifiable. The Municipal Archives have nothing for these street numbers. The 1940 Manhattan telephone directory has nothing. Several sources in Google Books from the later 1940s give 801 Greenwich Street as an address for West Side Iron Works — perhaps that was a later address. Without placards showing block and lot numbers for these locations, I give up. As did, it would seem, the keepers of the signage.

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard)

[The Pinboard link does a search — no account needed.]

Chamois chop suey

[289, 291, 293 Church Street, Manhattan, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view, with one person at a window, another atop a fire escape..]

This tax photograph follows from last Sunday’s photograph of Needle & Thread Grill: here we see the side of the restaurant and the establishments that follow: Sidney’s Luncheonette (289), Schroeder & Tremayne Inc., Sponges–Chamois (291), and Holland Tire Distributors (293). It’s like something from the world of Julius Knipl, Real Estate Photographer.

Schroeder & Tremayne and Holland certainly had their pick of places for lunch: if they didn’t want to walk all the way to the Needle & Thread, they could have had a quick bite at Sidney’s. There’s no listing for Sidney’s in the 1940 Manhattan directory, but Holland is in it, at a different address. Maybe the food choices drew Holland to Church Street. Or drove them away.

[Click for larger sponges.]

Schroeder & Tremayne was in business in St. Louis as early in 1918 as a wholesaler of — you guessed it — sponges and chamois. The firm made a splash with a “tasty display” at the 1918 convention of the National Association of Retail Druggists.

[N.A.R.D. Journal 26, no. 27 (1918). Click for a larger view.]

Back to food: the oddest detail in this tax photograph is CHOP SUEY, the stylized (clichéd) letters squirming every which way against a giant T. (Why?) There’s no restaurant in sight other than the Needle & Thread Grill, so the grill must have been taking its menu in a new direction.

In today’s Tribeca, Sidney’s appears to be a residential property. Schroeder & Tremayne houses apexart, a not-for-profit arts organization. Holland Tire Distributors is now OD Studio, home to a personal trainer. No spare tires to be found there, I’m sure.

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard)

[The Pinboard link does a search: no account needed.]

Needle & Thread Grill

[34 White Street, Manhattan, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

Last week I chanced upon a surprising moment at nos. 36, 38, and 40 White Street. So I thought I should look at the corner, no. 34. And lookit: in the heart of the mercantile district (now Tribeca), right next to the Crown Textiles Corp., is the Needle & Thread Grill.

[Click for a larger view, and notice the spindles, spinning wheel, Rheingold Beer placard, and loom (?) in the window.]

[Listing from the 1940 Manhattan directory.]

Today no. 34 houses Petrarca Cucina e Vino. (Molto costoso!) Google Maps shows a bit of the ghostly sign still on the side of no. 36.

Needle & Thread had a payphone (note the Bell Telephone sign) and its own matchbooks. I bet Petrarca can’t say that.

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard)

Zoom!

[36, 38, 40 White Street, Manhattan, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

I found this photograph by chance (swear), closing my eyes and clicking the mouse. Was the photographer more deliberate, wanting to catch this car in motion? Or did the driver just zoom into the frame?

These White Street addresses are found between Church Street and Broadway in Lower Manhattan, in an area once devoted to trade and now known as Tribeca (Triangle Below Canal). The first floor of no. 36 today houses a neon store. The first floor of no. 38, a purveyor of axes, knives, and camping gear. No. 40? No idea. What do the lofts on the upper floors go for? You can imagine.

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard)

Kids making the scene

[1013 38th Street, Boro Park, Brooklyn, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

I always like seeing kids in these tax photographs, standing around while the WPA fellows take their pitcher. This photograph struck me because of the words written on the door: NO KIDS UNDER 16 YR ALLOW. The sign above the building reads JUNK SHOP. I can understand why a junk-shop proprietor would keep the younger set out. But that hasn’t stopped these kids from making the sidewalk scene.

What happened one day on 38th Street: those three kids followed the photographers down (or up) the block. These kids would not be denied, though I doubt that anyone was trying to deny them. Click any image for a larger view.

[1001 38th Street.]

[1003 38th Street.]

[1005 38th Street.]

[1013 38th Street.]

[1023 38th Street.]

And down at the end of the block, still-younger kids have taken over.

[1071 38th Street.]

The three stars of these photographs appear only on the north side of 38th Street. Why? No doubt because they were too young to cross the street by themselves. If they’re still around, they’d now be close to or over ninety, and perhaps too old to cross the street by themselves. Who knows? My wild hope is that someone with an older relative who lived on this block will go browsing at 1940s.nyc and see someone they know. You never know. That kind of thing does happen. More than once.

“And that's why I have a blog.”

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard)

Ladies & Gents Restaurant

[56 3rd Avenue, Manhattan, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

On the Lower East Side, another 56 3rd Avenue. I was ready to write that as in Brooklyn, a large building now bears the 56, but this Manhattan building and its neighbors are still standing. At no. 56 today (or at least recently), Saki, a “sushi restaurant in minimalist digs.” They’d be unlikely to offer the sauerkraut cocktail that William Lins, successor to L. Reinken, offered. (Look closely.)

At no. 52, Sig. Klein’s Fat Men’s Shop. Could this be where Ed Norton bought the spats he gives Ralph Kramden in the Honeymooners episode “’Twas the Night Before Christmas”?

[Click for a larger view.]

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard)

Jack’s Diner

[56 3rd Avenue, Boerum Hill, Brooklyn, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

I like seeing a diner wherever there’s space for one. Yeah, it oughta fit. See also the Loring Grill, the Tiny Diner, and the Unique Diner.

At this address today: a large building. (What did you expect?)

[From the 1940 telephone directory. Click for a larger view.]

The WPA fellow at the placard looks as if he might have time-traveled in from the Nouvelle Vague. But I could be wrong.

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard) ]

Animal house

[107 Flatbush Avenue, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

Walk down Flatbush Avenue from (what I’ve dubbed) the Leaning Tower of Brooklyn, and you woul have found The House of Pets, aka Altman’s Long Island Bird Store.

I’ll let this ad speak (at length) for itself:

[Brooklyn Times-Union, May 29, 1933.]

Do click for a larger view of the tax photograph for many choice details. The capped fellows looking at the window make me think Sam (Tom D’Andrea), the cabdriver in Dark Passage (dir. Delmar Daves, 1947) who wants to buy a pair of goldfish for his room: “It adds class to the joint.” Though these guys seem to be contemplating birds. Or maybe puppies. Different scenes attracted crowds at other times:

[“Pig-Tailed Monkey Wrecks Pet Store in Berserk Spell.” The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, January 23, 1930.]

[“Snake, Loose in Pet Shop, Crawls into Window with Pups, Kittens.” The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, November 29, 1941. Click for a larger view.]

*

October 1: A reader found evidence of further mayhem. Thanks, reader.

[Daily News, May 13, 1951.]

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard)

The Leaning Tower of Brooklyn

[113-115 Flatbush Avenue, Brooklyn, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

Some serious density of signage. The camera angle makes this corner look like the Leaning Tower of Brooklyn, but in truth it’s the tip of an triangle bounded by Flatbush Avenue (to the left), Ashland Place (to the right), and Lafayette Avenue (out of sight).

Everything in that triangle, along with the El, is gone, and there’s now an Apple Store on the corner. But the Brooklyn Academy of Music is still going, on Ashland Place, Fulton Street, and Lafayette Avenue. Elaine and I saw Twyla Tharp Dance perform at BAM in 1984. And I said hello to André Gregory in the lobby.

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard)

Just some diner?

[553 Union Street, Gowanus, Brooklyn, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

No, not just some diner. It’s Frank’s Diner. Or (look closely) Frank’s Union Diner. As in, “Say, how’s about we grab a cup o’ java while they’re changin’ th’ erl?”

Many details to notice in the photograph. The most interesting one: the advertisement for a radio show with Joe Penner (1904–1941), a comedian in vaudeville, radio, and film. His work is well represented at YouTube. You just have to watch a bit to notice a resemblance to Pee-wee Herman. You don’t even have to read his Wikipedia entry.

Thanks, Brian, who pointed me to this photograph some time ago. Now I'm there, and the java is great. The Joe (Penner), not so much.

[Click for a larger view.]

*

September 16: As jjdaddyo suggested in a comment, that appears to be an electric truck. I’d say that that’s the most interesting detail in the photograph. Strange: both a bakery and an electric vehicle company were named Ward.

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard) : 557, 561, and 571 Union Street

Neon in semi-daylight

[4920 New Utrecht Avenue, Boro Park, Brooklyn, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

“Neon in daylight is a / great pleasure”: Frank O’Hara, in “A Step Away from Them,” imagining what his friend and fellow poet Edwin Denby would write.

I chose this photograph for its neon in semi-daylight, vivid in the shadow of the El. The band of light between the El and the buildings looks itself a bit like neon, or at least like fluorescence.

A quick check of online sources shows that in 1909 the 4920 address housed a saloon. A neighborhood miscreant passed a bad check there. The construction of the El in 1914 led to lawsuits from the owner of 4920 and other property owners on the block over noise, darkness, and decreased rental value, with damages paid out in 1922. In 1933 4920 may have housed a delicatessen.

The property may have been undergoing an identity crisis when its tax photograph was taken. Was it a bar & grill? (Look closely.) A delicatessen? (Look closely.) A liquor store? (Look closely.) The 1940 telephone directory has it as a restaurant:

[Click for a larger view.]

Two brands of beer are advertised in the window, Breldt’s and Ox Head. The Peter Breldt Brewing Company was based in Elizabeth, New Jersey. During Prohibition, the Peter Breldt Company, minus the Brewing, brewed near beer that was too near. Ox Head was a product of the Wehle Brewing Company, West Haven, Connecticut.

In 1949, just days after a liquor license was issued to the Utrecht Restaurant (to a new owner?), this advertisement appeared in The Brooklyn Eagle:

[The Brooklyn Eagle, March 20, 1949.]

Someone was cleaning house.

The Utrecht Restaurant, still operating under that name, received another liquor license (for yet another owner?) in 1963. In 1964 the liquor license for this address went to the Boro Lounge. Today the first floor of 1420 is split between Emil’s Shoes and Zion Car Service.

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard) : C. O. Bigelow : Minetta Tavern : Saratoga Bar and Cafe

Empire of signs

[8 Columbus Circle, Manhattan, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

Can you spot the wingback chair?

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard)

[Post title borrowed from Roland Barthes’s book about Japan. La Marseillaise (dir. Jean Renoir) was released in 1938. I don’t know when it arrived in the States. Swanee River (dir. Sidney Lanfield) was released on December 30, 1939.]

A lost Clipper

[Doyers Street, Manhattan, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

This morning we find ourselves in Chinatown, right off the Bowery. Doyers Street has a substantial history. Here’s some more. And still more. I chose this photograph because of the strangely shallow building to the left, looking almost like a facade from a movie set. And then I noticed the sign to the right, at no. 3.

[“Real Chinese Dishes.” Click for a larger view.]

The China Clipper Restaurant has some history of its own. It was one of three restaurants owned by Wah Sun Choy, or Watson Choy, a restaurateur fascinated by aviation — more specifically, by the seaplanes or “flying boats” built in 1935 and 1936 for Pan American Airways: the China Clipper, Philippine Clipper, and Hawaii Clipper, first used for transpacific airmail service from San Francisco to Manila. Choy’s other restaurants were in Jersey City: a second China Clipper (menu included!) and the Plaza Tea Garden. It seems that the design of the Jersey City Clipper was meant to give patrons the feeling that they were aboard an airplane.

In 1938, Choy embarked on a flight from Alameda, California, headed for Honolulu, the Midway Islands, Wake Island, Guam, and Manila. Choy was — allegedly — carrying $3M in U.S. gold certificates, raised by his own efforts, to be delivered to Chiang Kai-Shek to aid China in the Second Sino-Japanese War. His plane, the Hawaii Clipper, disappeared on July 29, 1938, en route from Guam to the Philippines. No trace of the plane, its six passengers, or nine crew members was recovered. But the considerable speculation about what happened lies beyond the borders of a tax photograph.

“Distinguished Men on Board Clipper.” The New York Times, July 30, 1938.

*

A reader found a bit of film from the 1950s in which the strangely shallow building is visible, with a 7 Up advertisement on its side. Thanks, reader.

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard) : More about the flying boats : More memorabilia from Wah Sun Choy’s restaurants

A New Utrecht address

[New Utrecht Hand & Electric Shoe Repairing, 5515 New Utrecht Avenue, Boro Park, Brooklyn, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

Just another establishment in the old neighborhood, just up the avenue from Eddie’s Fish Market. The 5515 address makes several appearances in the newspapers collected at Brooklyn Newsstand. The earliest is grim:

["Wife Dies, Husband, Girl Hurt at Fire.” The Brooklyn Daily Times, June 26, 1916.]

“Unknown cause,” “empty store”: as the article says, the fire was deemed suspicious. Mary Fenis dropped her three children from the third floor to her husband George, who had jumped to the sidewalk. She then jumped, falling on her head and grievously injuring her husband. George Fenis or Feneis wrote to a civic group later in the year to plead for fire escapes on what he called “two-family firetraps”:

[“Women Ask for Fire Protection: Man's Story Leads to Request for New Laws.” The Brooklyn Daily Times, October 5, 1916.]

By 1925, the first floor was a shoe-repair business:

[The Brooklyn Daily Times, November 27, 1925.]

And in 1945 the building was for sale:

[The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, January 28, 1945.]

By 1951, the first floor had become a liquor store:

[“Lone Thug Robs 2 Liquor Stores of $600 Total.” The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, November 10, 1951.]

In 1965, there’s another owner:

[Coney Island Times, February 12, 1965.]

After 1965 the newspapers go dark. Today 5515 is a real estate agency, Gold Realty: “List with Gold and have it sold.”

I chose this tax photograph for the “Ladies & Gents” sign. I wonder if anyone who isn’t reading this post knows of the tragedy that visited this address just over a century ago.

[“Ladies & Gents.”]

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard)

Schrafft’s, plural

Two weeks ago I posted a tax photograph of a Childs restaurant. I realized after the fact that next to that Childs stood a Schrafft’s. You can see both restaurants, albeit at distance, in this tax photograph:

[Schrafft’s, 291-293 Broadway, Manhattan, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

Like Childs, Schrafft’s restaurants were once ubiquitous in Manhattan: the 1940 telephone directory lists twenty-nine of them. When my mom and dad, not yet parents, worked in Manhattan, they would sometimes meet for lunch at a Schrafft’s. Noticing this Broadway outlet made me want to look for the Schrafft’s where my mom and dad may have eaten lunch.

So I called the Paul Drake Detective Agency and told what I know: my mom would walk from American Cyanamid (30 Rockefeller Plaza); my dad would walk from Johns Manville (22 E. 40th Street). Drake’s conclusion is that they must have met at the Schrafft’s at 556 Fifth Avenue: an eight-minute walk from Rockefeller Plaza, a ten-minute walk from 22 E. 40th. (Paul Drake is never wrong.)

[Schrafft’s, 556 Fifth Avenue, Manhattan, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

Wikipedia has a brief history of the chain. Vanishing New York has some good photographs. The New York Public Library has menus that take forever to load. Here’s one from 1955, when my parents, not yet my parents, may have been Schrafft’s-ing. And here’s a description of Schrafft’s from a 1964 guide to New York.

There’s a website for a revived Schrafft’s whose tone — “Where the Forward Thinkers and Life Seizers, the Night Owls and the Morning Dealmakers banter amongst the Famous and soon-to-be Famous, the Old Guard and their Tiny Titans to be” — and spelling — “fashionable not fadish” — leave me cold. The revival as yet seems to be more idea than reality.

Related reading
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard)

30-D, three letters

A clue in this past Saturday’s Newsday Saturday Stumper, 30-D, three letters, “____ king,” made me think of a food from childhood. The answer: ALA, as in Chicken à la King. I’ve always thought of Chicken à la King as a mid-century convenience food, a TV Dinner in a can, but Wikipedia tells me that the dish has a longer and more interesting history.

I found this two-page spread, which jibes with my memory of Chicken à la King — something served with crackers.

[Life, March 18, 1957.]

You can click either image for a larger view. Do click: you won’t be disappointed, though you may become nauseated. It’s always difficult to photograph (and colorize?) food.

The bakery with a thousand windows? Here’s an artist’s rendering. And a tax photograph:

[2902 Thomson Avenue, Long Island City, Queens, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

Louis Armstrong’s house

[34-56 107th Street, Queens, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

Louis Armstrong was born on August 4, 1901. He and his wife Lucille bought this house in Corona, Queens, in 1943. It was Armstrong’s home for the rest of his life. Here he is on the front steps, after the house had been sided. And here are many more photographs of the exterior and interior.

Today 34-56 is the Louis Armstrong House, whose virtual exhibits are many. One remarkable moment: Armstrong on a 1951 home recording, playing along with the King Oliver Creole Jazz Band’s 1923 recording of “Tears” — featuring Louis Armstrong.

Related reading
All OCA Louis Armstrong posts : More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard)