As late as 1883 J. A. Pilkington operated his saloon from the old two-and-a-half story converted house on the southeast corner of Greenwich and Hubert Streets.  But the Tribeca neighborhood had been undergoing change for two decades and that Federal-style house was soon to go.

On February 16, 1889 Architecture & Building reported that A. A. Shaw had hired architect William B. Pope to replace the vintage structure with a five-story "brick store" to cost $25,000--just under $690,000 today.  Shaw was a minor operator in real estate circles, his name only occasionally appearing in the journals.

Completed later that same year, No. 413 Greenwich Street was unapologetically utilitarian.  Pope spent no unnecessary money on embellishments and focused on the functionality of his structure.  Nevertheless, the cast iron storefront, the dignified bracketed cornice and the contrast of red brick and stone created an attractive building.

Shaw put the title of the property into his wife's name.  So when renovations were necessary in September 1890, only a few months after the building was completed, the plans listed "Mrs. A. A. Shaw" as owner.  Pope was brought to install "new elevator shaft, elevator, and boiler."  It was a pricey upgrade--more than $97,000 today.

No. 413 got an unglamorous start.  For about a decade it was used as a carpet storage facility.  Next door at Nos. 407-411 was the W. & J. Sloane Company, one of the country's preeminent carpet manufacturers.

That all changed in 1901 when William J. Morrison and Walter B. Boinest formed the Morrison & Boinest Co.  The pair had been employed for years by Frederick Akers, the proprietor of New York's oldest and best known coffee roasting establishment.  Following Akers' death that year, they formed the new company to carry on the same type of business.

Morrison & Boinest Co. roasted imported coffee beans, and ground spices.  Interestingly, it did not involve itself in merchandising the products, providing the service instead for other firms.  A 1904 advertisement noted boldly "We Do Not Buy," "We Do Not Sell" The ad stressed "We Do Not Compete With Our Customers" adding "We Roast Coffee for the Trade Only."

As was customary in the early 20th century, the building's facade became a billboard of sorts.  Signage was painted across the brickwork that announced "Morrison & Boinest," "Coffee Roasting and Spice Grinding," and "For The Trade."  Ghosts of the signage survives.

The presence of moisture could have devastating consequences to freshly-ground coffee and spices.  In 1911 Morrison & Boinest had the "coffee warehouse" waterproofed by The Bitu-Mortar Company, manufacturers of "cement waterproofing."

It was not water, but fire that threatened the building in 1913.  At around 9:35 p.m. on February 10 fire was discovered on the third floor.  Before it was extinguished the firm suffered nearly $77,000 in losses by today's standards.

Four months later Walter B. Boinest resigned.  The industry journal Simmons' Spice Mill reported "On July 1 the partnership between Wm. J. Morrison and Walter B. Boinest, as Morrison &  Boinest, coffee roasters for the trade, 413 Greenwich St., New York, was dissolved by mutual consent, and the business is continued by Mr. Boinest under the old name."

The article explained that Boinest had stepped down "upon the advise of his physician.  He has been in poor health for fully a year."  Its writer added that Boinest was "one of the best liked men in the New York coffee business."

Although its clients probably saw no immediate change following Boinest's departure; William Morrison began to branch out.  He took on two new partners in 1916, M. W. Brown and J. A. Flagg, and incorporated as Morrison-Boinest Co., Inc.  The firm was now described as "planters, merchants and brokers in coffee, tea, cocoa, etc."  (Despite the legal name-change, the firm continued to operate as Morrison & Boinest Co.)

In the decades before sexual discrimination was an issue, Morrison & Boinest Co. hired only females in its packing department.  An advertisement on September 28, 1918 sought "Girls for Packing Coffee: Experience not necessary.  Hours 8 to 5; $10 start; half day Saturday."  The starting wages would be about $163 a week today.

Retirement apparently did not suit Walter B. Boinest.  The Iron Age announced on May 13, 1920 that he had partnered with P. J. Moe and K. Kiely to form The Dalyte Lamp Co. "to manufacture electric lamps, fixtures, etc."  The firm now shared space with Boinest's old firm in No. 413 Greenwich Street.

For nearly three decades the roasting kilns here had been fueled by smoke-belching coal.  In 1928 The Tea & Coffee Trade Journal announced that Morrison & Boinest had finally caught up with the times.  "One of the last wholesale roasting plants to employ coal fuel in New York City, has lately been torn out to make room for modern gas-fired roasters of the Jubilee Premix type.  The plant in question is that of Morrison & Boinest, situated at Greenwich and Hubert Streets."

Five years later Morrison & Boinest was gone, to be replaced, ironically, with a liquor firm.  Prohibition was officially repealed on December 5, 1933 and the Baltimore Club Distillers, Inc. was ready.  On November 17 The New York Times reported that firm had signed a long-term lease on the building.

Its occupancy would not be especially long, however.  By 1947 the Peerless Sample Card Co., Inc. and the Gander Printing Company were in the building.  The co-owners of Gander Printing were arrested on April 19 that year as part of what police called a massive "lottery ring" which took in $5 million a week.

The complex, illegal operation was based in Italy where the lotteries were drawn every Friday.  Saturday was "pay-off day," when the results were announced.  After weeks of investigation, the police had identified each of the locations where the winnings were distributed, and at 11:00 on that Saturday morning, 50 plainclothes officers "swooped down on earmarked establishments."  The article noted "In a raid on the Gander Printing Company at 413 Greenwich Street police took into custody seven men and confiscated 14,000 printed lottery results, plates and books."

In 1948 (possibly taking the space vacated by Gander Printing), Coignet Chemical Co., Inc. moved in.  Founded in the 1870's, it manufactured Coignet Gelatine, an emulsion used in photography.  It remained in the building at least through 1955, sharing space for part of that time with Stuart Aire, Inc., installers of air conditioning equipment,

The neighborhood after mid-century was dismal.  photograph by Edmund Vincent Gillon from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The immediate neighborhood saw significant decline; yet the last decades of the 20th century saw change once again come to Tribeca.  It arrived at No. 413 Greenwich Street in the fall of 1972.  An advertisement in New York magazine on October 23 announced:

The Front Porch invites all our friends to join us at our new restaurant in the Butter and Egg District 413 Greenwich Street at the corner of Hubert Street...Meat pies and pastries for breakfast, our regular menu for lunch plus a Trucker's Special.

The "Trucker's Special" referenced the many trucking firms that still occupied the district.  A few months after the restaurant's opening New York magazine wrote "The new restaurant occupies the street-level floor of an old manufacturing plant.  The other floors are given over to a newly-equipped kitchen and bakery that produce soups, stews, breads and desserts."

photo by Bob Falter, newyorkfeelings.com

A series of restaurants would follow.  In 1983 Manhattan South opened.  Eight months later, on June 15, 1984, The New York Times food critic remarked that it "lends respect to that much-abused term 'home-style cooking.'"  Manhattan South was followed by Il Mattone Brick Oven & Grill, and finally by Sweetgreen Tribeca, which is still here.


As is the case with so many Tribeca factory buildings, the upper floors are now residential, with one apartment per floor.  And, somewhat miraculously, the signage of Morrison & Boinest Co. is still legible after nearly 120 years.

photographs by the author

A subtle change in brick color testifies to the addition of the third floor.

Brothers Warren and Joseph B. Harriot were busy men.  They operated the grocery business of W. & J. B. Harriot at No. 717 Greenwich Street, at the corner of Charles Street, while simultaneously buying Greenwich Village real estate and erecting houses and shops.  The brothers lived near their business; Warren at No. 720 Greenwich Street and Joseph at No. 711.  Their brother, Samuel, was a mason who shared the Greenwich Street business address. It was no doubt he who was responsible for his brothers' construction projects.

In 1828, using the firm name W. & J. B. Harriot, the brothers erected two 24-foot wide houses on the same block as their business, Nos. 703 and 705.  Two-and-a-half stories tall, they were handsome examples of Federal architecture.  Orange-red Flemish bond brick was trimmed in brownstone.  No. 703 was erected as the home and drugstore of Benjamin Quackenbush.  It is most likely that the houses were identical, each with a store at ground level.

No. 705 most likely originally matched No. 703, seen above.  The door at the left led to the upper floors.  By now a full third floor had been added to No. 705 (left) and a permanent awning erected over the sidewalk.  (The pile of bricks and the pulled-up curbstone suggest the street was being paved.).  photograph by Alfred Tennyson Beals from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

It would seem that rooms were rented in No. 705 by mid-century.  Mrs. Nott lived here in 1856 when she submitted her hand-fashioned wax fruit in the category of "Needlework, Embroidery and Fancy Articles" in the annual exhibition of the American Institute of the City of New York.  She won first prize for wax fruit, earning her a bronze medal.

Two years later the unmarried Matilda Vesey was living here.  She taught in Primary School No. 11 at No. 461 Greenwich Street.

In 1859 merchant H. M. Scoble ran the store.  His family lived upstairs, as well.  Both he and his son, Andrew W. Scoble, who was a, plumber, were volunteer firefighters.  Oddly enough they worked out of different companies--Andrew was a member of Mohawk Engine Company, No. 16 at No. 126 West Broadway, and his father was a member of Empire Engine Company, No. 42 on Murray Street.

After 190 years and numerous alterations to the house, the Federal-style doorway amazingly survives.

It is unclear if Scoble owned No. 703; but in 1860 it was lost to foreclosure after the $3,000 mortgage remained unpaid.  The Assembly of the State of New York appraised the property at $5,000--around $152,000 today.

The building was purchased by and became home to William S. Wood.  Given his visible public position, his moving into the humble structure is somewhat surprising.   He was re-appointed as the New York Commissioner of Public Buildings by the newly-elected President Abraham Lincoln in 1861.  But it appears that political infighting prompted Wood to rethink the honor.

On September 7, 1861 The New York Herald reported "He accepted the new appointment, but has now resigned, because he felt he could not in honor hold the office and at the same time comply with the requirement made upon him by those who assumed to control him and the business of his department."  The article noted "the President of the United States did not know it last night."

Like the Scobles, Wood volunteered his spare time to the Metropolitan Hook and Ladder Company No. 5, at No. 96 Charles Street.  And in the meantime he took the less impressive post of Special Inspector for the City.  He was caught up in a administrative housecleaning by the State Legislature in 1864.  A committee of three senators was charged with investigating the questionable activities of five city departments, including the City Inspector's Department.  Heads rolled.  Among the first to lose his job was Wood's supervisor, F. I. A. Boole.  Wood was not far behind.  He was discharged on December 8, 1864.

No. 705 was soon owned by Florent Feltz, who sold it on February 28, 1871 to builder Nicholas Hemerich.  He paid a handsome price for the property.  The $16,000 price tag would top $330,000 today.  It was doubtlessly Hemerich who raised the attic to full floor and added an up-to-date Italianate cornice.  It was also about this time that a broad elliptical arched opening replaced the storefront.  It accommodated Hemerich's vehicles and supplies until around 1898.  His yearly permit "for trucks" cost him $180 by 1891.

It may have been  their business connections with Hemerich which resulted in T. F. and Benjamin W. Jenkins living upstairs by 1893.  Both were real estate developers.  In January that year they separately hired architect W. H. Hoover, Jr. to design frame houses, only yards apart, on Valentine Avenue in the Bronx.

Sarah A. Blackwood was another of Hemerich's tenants around the same time.  The widow of hero police officer Sylvester Blackwood, she had lived on his $300 per year pension since January 17, 1886.  Blackwood was best remembered for breaking a sensational mail robbery case in 1877.

For at least a decade D. O'Farrell's furniture store was located on 10th Avenue.  Now, in 1898, he leased the store at No. 705.  His yearly rent of $139 would be equal to only $350 a month today.  When F. Donnatin took the space for his own furniture store here just two years later the rent was lower--$117.  It suggests that the Greenwich Street neighborhood was in decline.

The Hemerich family still owned the building in 1917 when the Manhattan Railway Co. sought to add a third track to the elevated railroad that now ran in front of the property.  In December John G. Hemerick gave the family's consent.

The ground floor and basement were leased in February 1919 to the Argo Manufacturing Co., makers of corn starch.

By the Depression years the Greenwich Street block was gritty and at lease one of the upstairs tenants of No. 705 was shady.  Joseph Fletcher was just 20 years old in 1935, but he had already established a criminal reputation.  He was a suspect of the hold-up of Swift & Co. on August 20.  So when he skipped town shortly afterwards he violated his parole from the Elmira Reformatory.

Fletcher and his cohort, 25-year old Stanley Wescott, traveled to the mining town of St. Michael's Pennsylvania.  They raised the suspicions of the town's postmaster after they came into the post office several times asking for mail addressed to general delivery.  The woman knew that the mine payroll was due to arrive any day, so she notified the Pennsylvania State Police.

Troopers waited in the tiny post office until the pair showed up again.  When their hotel room was searched loaded pistols were found.  Now charged with being a fugitive, a parole violator, and a suspect of attempted robbery, Fletcher would not be returning to his room on Greenwich Street.

In 1940 the newly-formed 705 Greenwich St. Corp. purchased the building.  Before the year's end it was converted to one apartment each on the upper floors and a remodeled store on the first.   In 1982 a commendable renovation updated the storefront
.

Close inspection reveals the arched brickwork of Nicholas Hemerich's shop.

The starkly improved neighborhood was evidenced in 2008 when Donna Karan's Urban Zen boutique opened in the store.

photographs by the author

When builders James Barclay and Nicholas Connor began construction on the two story structures at the corner of Christopher and Greenwich Streets for Thomas E. Broadway, Jr., in 1867, there was no architect involved.  The red brick buildings would be a simple, no-nonsense job.  Described as "vernacular" in style--essentially meaning without a definite architectural style--they shared a straightforward pressed metal cornice.

Completed in 1868, one of the structures housed a wheelwright and blacksmith's shop on Christopher Street and the other a stable, opening onto Greenwich Street (it sometimes used the address of 684 Greenwich Street).  Upstairs was a dwelling.

Thomas E. Broadway, Jr. was a partner in his father's butcher business, T. E. Broadway & Son.  Highly successful in business, he was not so fortunate in love.  His wife, Kate, obtained a divorce on March 9, 1870 and quickly married J. W. Funk.  Her new husband was enraged when Broadway told associates that it was he, not Kate, who initiated the break-up.  Funk took out an advertisement in The New York Herald in October that read in part "It having been rumored that Thomas E. Broadway, Jr., had obtained a divorce from his former wife (Kate Broadway), the attention of all whom it may concern is called to the following article."  A reprint of the New York Daily Times article followed, which said Kate had been the complainant and had won court costs.

Thomas married Martha L'Hommedieu.  She had at least one child, Charles, from a former marriage.  The birth of a granddaughter, Frances Elizabeth L'Hommedieu in 1884 would cause tremendous upheaval down the road.

In the meantime, the projected uses for the two structures seem to have never come to pass.  In 1870 Peter Hagen leased the "stable," and while the paperwork repeatedly described it as such throughout the ensuing years, Hagen ran a saloon in the space.    Behind it, John I. and William Walling operated their shoe business.  They would remain until 1872.

Hagen's 1870 rent was $1,000 per year--or about $1620 per month today.  His location only a few blocks from the Hudson River piers and his relatively low overhead no doubt combined to make a profitable business.  When he signed a new five-year lease in 1893 his rent had increased to $1,500.  By then Christopher Street had been renumbered, giving the two buildings the addresses of Nos. 143 and 145.

As would be expected, the tenants in the upper rooms were working class. There were nine occupants living here according to the voter registration list of 1874.  (There were no doubt more residents, since the list did not include those not registered to vote.)

In 1884 carpenter Henry Hartung lived here.  He attempted to improve his lifestyle by applying to the New York City Police Department.  Hartung received disappointing news in February 1885 when he received notice he had had been rejected.

The influx of immigrants into the neighborhood was evidenced in August 1895 when Rocco Luigi Letella received his permit to "keep a stand in front of 684 Greenwich street."  What Letella's business was is frustratingly vague; but his stand in front of Hagen's saloon could have been anything from a shoe shine stand to a newsstand or perhaps a fruit stand.

Thomas and Martha Broadway lived in an impressive home in Islip, Long Island.  Previous to her death she asked her husband to take care of her granddaughter, Fannie.  In 1894 Charles L'Hommedieu, who made his living as an auctioneer, moved into the Islip house with the 10-year old girl.  The Sun explained "He did so because Broadway disliked to be alone."

It was most likely also Broadway's deteriorating health that prompted L'Hommedieu and his daughter to move in.  On April 3 that year Dr. J. Z. Wild of Bayshore, Long Island, was made "the attending physician at the Broadway house," according to The Sun.  Thomas Broadway's mental facilities began to fail around the same time.

Dr. Wild later said that his patient insisted on several occasions that "his wife came back to him, that she took hold of his hand and conversed this him."  When the physician said "You don't mean that she came back to you you mean her soul came back," Broadway replied "I mean that she came back in flesh and blood.  You fellows can't understand."

Thomas E. Broadway, Jr. died in September 1897.  His six-line will left his entire estate to 13-year old Fannie L'Hommedieu.  Reaction was quick and more than 70 relatives (including his former wife Kate) contested the will.

When the trial began in March 1898, The Sun reminded its readers that the Fannie's new-found fortune was "estimated at over a million," and that her father had been made executor.  The family argued that Broadway's will was made under "undue influence and mental incapacity."

On March 17 Dr. Wild took the stand.  He told the court of Broadway's visions of his dead wife and that he "reverted to this hallucination on every visit that he made to him."  Wild said that he "never saw Mr. Broadway alone; that either L'Hommedieu or his daughter Fannie or one of the servants was present."  Seemingly adding support to the family's contentions, the only witnesses to the will were Charles L'Hommedieu and the gardener.

The trial extended for months, prompting The Sun to call it "the most interesting will case ever heard in this county."  On November 15 the will was upheld.  The Sun said "The decision of Surrogate Petty was a surprise to many who heard the case."

Included, of course, in Fannie L'Hommedieu's inheritance were the Christopher Street buildings.  The teen was less interested in the management of her real estate (that was left to her father) and more on her comforts.

On March 25, 1903 Charles L'Hommedieu was directed by Surrogate Petty (the same judge who upheld the will) to give an accounting of Fannie's spending.  Because the principal estate was held in trust for the minor, she was permitted only to spend the earnings which amounted to $12,736.30 per year (about $366,000 today).  And she did.

L'Hommedieu explained to the court that "it was impossible to support her on less than the whole income."  The New-York Tribune reported "The accounting was not contested in any way"

In 1906 the buildings were combined.  New beams, columns and girders were installed and that year John J. Coogan, who also lived upstairs, took over the saloon, which now engulfed the entire ground floor.  In 1913 his excise (or liquor) license described his operation as "hotel," suggesting he managed the entire building.

Coogan's saloon and hotel business was upset by the onset of Prohibition.  In January 1923 The New York Times reported that the Cathedral Cafeteria had been incorporated, taking over the ground floor space.  It was a somewhat ironic name choice.  Almost four decades earlier in 1884, John J. Mitty was born upstairs.  In June 1926 Pope Pius appointed him as the Bishop of Salt Lake City.

Prohibition ended in December 1933 and it did not take the Cathedral Cafeteria long to re-invent itself as the Cathedral Bar & Grill.  But its location, directly next to the rectory of St. Veronica's Roman Catholic Church caused problems.  Its pastor, Father Delaney, went to court on July 11, 1934 to have the bar closed.  The New York Times reported that he testified "that the bar stood against the wall in a building between the cafeteria and the church.  He said that frequently 'loud language' could be heard in the restaurant at 6 A. M."

But the Cathedral Bar & Grill had a legal loophole.  The Times explained "even though it was less than 200 feet from a church, because the premises had been occupied for the past nine years" it was immune from that law and could not be closed.  The judge's Solomon-like decision ordered that the bar be moved from the wall next to the rectory and to the front of the restaurant.

When Fannie L'Hommedieu died, she passed the Christopher Street building to her aunt, Mary Brown King, who died in 1936.  The King family retained possession until 1959, when it was purchased by Empire Equities, Inc.  The New York Times noted it was the first sale of the property (since it's title had previously passed through inheritance) since 1865.

Tenants in the upper floor rooms continued, of course, to be blue collar and not always respectable.  Among the later was James Napole, aka Jimmy Napp, who lived here in 1965 when he was charged with tax evasion.  Although the 53-year old listed himself as "unemployed," he and five cronies were accused of not paying taxes on income of more than $450,000 between 1958 and 1961.  (The gross income would equal just over $1 million today.)

The Cathedral Bar & Grill made way for the Ballybay Pub in 1973.  By now the Christopher Street neighborhood had become the epicenter of the gay community.   In 1982 a gay bar, Two Potato, moved in and would be a destination spot for years.

The AIDS epidemic decimated the gay population in the 1980's and the neighborhood around Two Potato declined drastically, drawing a seedy and often dangerous element.

At around 1 a.m. on April 1, 1988 Colin L. Brown, who lived in New Jersey, was standing out front of the bar with friends when a group of Queens teenagers passed them.  One, a 14-year old girl, called them faggots.  A fist fight broke out during which Brown was stabbed in the liver.  Oddly enough, Police Captain Barbara Sicilia would not describe the incident as a bias attack.  She said since the stabber had not made the remark, and was defending the girl, it could not be defined as such.

Four months later a Two Potato regular, Fitzroy Green, left the bar with two men.  He was found the following day in a pool of blood in his nearby apartment.  He had been stabbed to death.  It was the second murder in the vicinity in less than a week.

When the liquor license for Two Potato came up for renewal in August 2001, residents revolted, sparking a heated controversy.  The New York Times reported on December 23 "Two Potato, a dingy gay bar at Christopher and Greenwich Streets, is in the middle of a dispute that pits accusations of gay-identity politics against claims of racism.

"The 15-year-old tavern, once at the center of New York gay life, now attracts a mostly gay, black and Latino crowd.  Neighbors say it is frequented by drug dealers and prostitutes who spill onto the sidewalk and cause trouble."

The State Liquor Authority suspended the license for 30 days, beginning November 26, and fined the bar $5,000.  Its owner said it would hopefully reopen in January under the name Chances Are.

The renaming took place and Chances Are lasted until 2005.  In the meantime, locals did not relent on their insistence that the Christopher Street neighborhood--filled with prostitutes and drug users--be cleaned up.  On January 19, 2001 Chairwoman of Community Board 2, Aubrey Lees, said "People are really fed up and disgusted."




Increased police presence and enforcement did turn the neighborhood around.  In 2005 Chances Are was replaced with Bar Nocetti, and today is home to an Italian restaurant.  Upstairs there are four apartments.

The little building survives, a bit careworn.  Its past, never glamorous, has been unarguably fascinating.

photographs by the author