Open House New York 2011

St. Paul's Chapel circa 1905 (the pews have since been removed).

The hotel in 1932 (note the massive gas tank in the back).

The pulpit of St. Paul's Chapel.

The gazebo in the back of the Mount Vernon Hotel.

The front yard of the Mount Vernon Hotel.

The back of the hotel.

Another shot of the back garden of the Mount Vernon Hotel.

A bench and gazebo in the back garden of the hotel.

Another sitting area in the back of the hotel.

The 1909 Queensboro Bridge towers over the front yard of the hotel.

The sign out front of the hotel.

The front of the hotel.

A small bridge leading from the second floor to a neighboring garden next to the hotel.

A fireman's coat from 9/11 on display in St. Paul's Chapel.

An 1785 painting of the Governor's seal above his box in the chapel.

Chairs in the Governor's box in the chapel.

Looking up the main isle of the chapel.

One of the first paintings of the Presidential seal, hanging over his box in the chapel.

President Washington's chair in the chapel.

A painting of St. Paul's in 1799.

The Mount Vernon Hotel today.

One of the sitting rooms in the hotel.

The hotel in 1924, its last year as Con Ed's headquarters (note the large gas tank in back).

An aerial view of the hotel from the '40s.

The Mount Vernon Hotel Museum and Garden.

St. Paul's Chapel circa 1895.

St. Paul's graveyard in the early '70s with the Twin Towers being built across the street.

This past weekend was Open House New York in the big city, the annual event where buildings of note open up their doors to the public free of charge.  This year, I took a look around the Mount Vernon Hotel Museum and Garden, at 421 East 61st Street between 1st and York Avenues.  Built in 1799, it was originally a carriage house for the summer mansion of Col. William Stephens Smith and his wife Abigail Adams Smith, the daughter of our second President John Adams.  The mansion was located where the Bed, Bath & Beyond is now on 1st Avenue between 60th and 61st.  The mansion burned to the ground before the couple even got to use it once, and in 1826 the abandoned carriage house was converted into the Mount Vernon Hotel, a "day hotel" for the well-to-do who wanted to get away from the city, which back then ended at 14th Street.  The museum guide explained that a "day hotel" in those days was about equivalent to a modern-day country club.  The rich would travel up there during the day for recreation, but not sleep there.  The house actually only had one small bedroom.  The hotel was named for the home of George Washington in Virginia.  The first President remained a popular cult figure decades after his death, and it was very common to see his portrait in hotels, taverns, and other public places.

If you get a chance to visit, I highly recommend it.  Walking up the stone steps and on the the wrap-around lawn to the front door is like suddenly walking into the country, I found it to be a very strange feeling.  The front entrance brought me to the dining room, where a dinner scene from around the 1820s could be found.  Turtle soup is being served, with the shell being re-used as main bowl.  The door to the left leads to the kitchen, and to the right is a living room with reproductions of old newspapers that listed the wages for different jobs.  Unskilled laborers made about $2.50 a month.  In total there are eight rooms decorated in an 1820s-style with furniture donated throughout the years.  Unfortunately, no one is allowed to take pictures inside, so you'll have to see it for yourself!

On a very interesting note, I learned that after being a private home for a number of years in the late 1800s, the house was bought by the Standard Gas Light Company (today's Con Edison) in 1905 when the area was becoming more industrialized.  It remained Con Ed's main headquarters until 1924 when it was purchased by the Colonial Dames of America and turned into a museum by 1939.  I saw a number of pictures from the '20s and '30s of the house surrounded by massive gas tanks.  Out of gratitude for Con Ed almost completely keeping the house unchanged, all its employees are given free admission to this day.

Since I was on a colonial "high" if you will, I decided to go down to St. Paul's Chapel on Broadway and Fulton Street, one of the oldest buildings in Manhattan, where Washington led a procession to a thanksgiving service here from the old Federal Hall on his inauguration day.  The chapel still has a lot of displays devoted to 9/11 and the rescue efforts it took part in.  The governor's box on the south side, a sign notes, was used for supplies, while the President's box, directly across, was used as a podiatrist's station.  Since many of Washington's men went without proper footwear during the Revolution, the chapel considered it a touching tribute.  Above it is one of the oldest paintings of the presidential seal, dating back to 1785, which was probably hanging there during Washington's presidency.  Noting that the bird is solid black, a sign read that Benjamin Franklin probably had a lot of influence on the seal's design since he was a leading advocate for making the wild turkey, rather than the bald eagle, the national animal.

When I had come down that afternoon, choir practice was in full swing, so I decided I shouldn't bother them.  I took a look around the old graveyard and then headed back uptown.  For anyone living in the city, I highly recommend taking advantage of Open House New York each October as an opportunity to learn about some of its most fascinating buildings free of charge.

The Old Neighborhood

My building on 65th and 1st, built in 1898.

St. John Nepumocene Church in 1927, two years after it was built.

St. Catherine's Park in 1902, before it was finished.

The schoolyard of P.S. 183 on East 67th Street between 1st and York.

Side doors of the school are labeled "BOYS" and "GIRLS".

The front door of P.S. 183 on 66th between 1st and York.

St. Catherine of Sienna Church on 68th between 1st and York.

The Dominican Friars were celebrating St. Domonic's Day.

The cornerstone shows St. Catherine's was  built in 1930.

Another shot of the schoolyard of P.S. 183.

The new high-rise that went up next to St. John's just a couple of years ago.

St. John Nepumucene Church on 66th and 1st today.

The sign for Peppermint Park still remains at the door of what is now a Dunkin' Donuts.

St. Catherine's Park on 67th and 1st.

You know how when you're in high school and you go back to your elementary school and it looks like the hallway has shrunk? Everything is much smaller than you remember. The walls are closer together and the water fountains are at your knees. Well, when I moved back into the apartment that I had moved out of when I was a kid a few years back, that's the way I felt about the whole neighborhood. Places that were actually only a block away, I remembered as being about five blocks away.

The church where I was baptized and had my first communion, St. John Nepumucene, or St. John Nepumuk, is on the corner of 1st Avenue and East 66th Street. Founded by Slovakian immigrants, it is served by two Hungarian priests, one old and one young, has a Hungarian flag at the altar and has mass in Slovak every Sunday. When the first big influx of immigrants from Slovakia arrived in the city, there was a big call to form a parish of their own where they could speak their own language. They started meeting at St. Brigid's on 8th Street and Avenue B, and organized their first parish on East 4th Street. The current church was finished in 1925, and it really is a beauty. It's often open during the day and I like to go in an admire the intricately designed stained glass, statues and grotto in the front. Further down the street is P.S. 183, my old school, and around the block is the schoolyard where I spent many an hour. The layout, and the farmers market they have on Saturdays, has remained pretty much unchanged since the eighties.

On 68th between 1st and York is another Catholic church, St. Catherine of Siena, built in 1930. This parish was formed in 1897 mainly for the Irish community, and the current church, run by the Dominican friars, is actually quite massive, with a number of shrines lining the walls. Up the street on 1st Avenue is the park also named for the saint where I spent a great deal of my early childhood. Back then we all called it the "local park", and for years I thought this was it's official name, but as it turns out, it too was named for St. Catherine. When the land was purchased in 1902, the park's design was based on Santa Maria sopra Minerva in Rome, built in 1280, where St. Catherine is buried. The flagpole in the center of the park represents the altar, the play areas on either side are the pews, and the paving pattern of the park resembles that of the floor of the church in Rome.

I found this out from reading a history of St. Catherine's Park I found online, but I think they only describe the original plan. The park has been remodeled at least twice since I moved upstate to Nyack. The plan of my childhood was so full of jagged corners, steep falls and high walls that my father used to joke that whoever designed this park obviously didn't have any kids.

When the park was redone shortly before we moved in 1989, it was widened in the center so that police cars could drive through, in an effort to crack down on the drug dealers that were starting to take the place over. But who wants to take their children to a park that is being patrolled by cops non-stop? Now, with crime drastically decreased in the city, the design is at its most practical, with a playground and swings in the center inhabited by little kids and there parents, flanked by an area with benches inhabited by old ladies and me, and the ball court that hasn't changed much at all.

New York City bloggers are always bemoaning the rapid disappearance of small business in place of large chains, and the old neighborhood has seen it's share of that. A bank in my building used to be a suede store, a dry cleaners was a souvenir shop, and the neighborhood ice cream shop on 66th Street, Peppermint Park, is now a Dunkin' Donuts, but at least the old sign still remains. Not to mention, a giant high rise went up right next to St. John's about two years ago. Despite all this, Goldberger's Pharmacy, also on the ground floor of my building, has remained in place since 1898. Even with a Duane Reade on practically every block, it refuses to budge.

Goldberger's and Wise Pharmacy on 79th and York must have very low rent which allows them to defy the odds and stay in business. They probably have been around since my building and a similar one on 79th and York went up in the 1890s. Built with the vision of providing comfortable living for the working class, the apartments included such luxuries as their own bathrooms, a far cry from the tenements of downtown. Now these buildings are City Landmarks.

All in all, I'm glad to be back in the old neighborhood, and if I can ever catch a break in the midst of this recession, I hope to be here for many years to come.