The Sunshine Hotel cat with resident Tony, 1998. Photo by Harvey Wang. MCNY Digital Collections
The Sunshine Hotel cat with resident Tony Bell, 1998. Photo by Harvey Wang. MCNY Digital Collections

This photo of the Sunshine Hotel cat doing a photo bomb in the flophouse at 241 Bowery has stopping power. I can’t take my eyes off it. Can you blame me?

The photo was taken by Harvey Wang in 1998 and published in the book Flophouse: Life on the Bowery by David Isay and Stacey Abramson. In other words, this is not a cat of Old New York. But the building where this resident mouser made his home has an interesting history with ties to much larger animals: elephants and horses.

Room 32, Carl Alging. Photo by Harvey Wang. MCNY Digital Collections
Room 32, Carl Alging. Photo by Harvey Wang. MCNY Digital Collections

The Sunshine Hotel occupied the upper floors of 241, 243, and 245 Bowery, called Sunshine, Lakewood, and Annex, respectively. The lobby on the second floor of 241 Bowery was accessed via a steep set of narrow stairs; the three buildings were internally connected on the upper floors.

The hotel provided cheap housing in the form of tiny cubicles (4×6 feet) with chicken-wire ceilings and barracks-like dormitories. (The cubicles could not be considered actual rooms because they did not have real ceilings.) Talk about a fire trap.

When the hotel opened in the 1920s, guests could stay for 10 cents a night. By 1998, when the book was written and the photographer captured the cat doing a photo bomb, the rates were $8 to $10 a night.

Much has been written about the Sunshine Hotel. In addition to the book and numerous website articles, it was also featured in an award-winning documentary by Michael Dominic, which you can watch online or on Amazon Prime.

Nothing is known about the cat, but here is another picture of him in the flophouse:

Sunshine Hotel Cat, 1998
The men apparently took good care of the Sunshine Hotel cat, who probably returned by favor by keeping the rats and mice away.

The First Street Rail Road in America

As my website focuses on animals of Old New York, I’m going to tell you an interesting story about the history of 241 Bowery. There are no other cats involved from this point on.

In 1832, the horse car was introduced to New Yorkers for the first time. The horse cars provided “rapid transit” of 10 to 12 miles an hour, which was much faster than the omnibus could go. The service was provided by the New York & Harlem Rail Road.

The New York & Harlem Rail Road was incorporated in 1831. A special act of the legislature allowed the company to build a street railroad from 23rd Street to the Harlem River. The company filed a map of the road along the center line of Fourth Avenue (now Park Avenue), and ground was broken on February 23, 1832. It would be the first street railroad to be built in the United States.

People were hesitant at first, because they didn’t want rails laid in the middle of the street. But the railroad company promoted the potential benefits, and promised that the street rail road would “make Harlem the suburbs of New York.”

The rail road, it was believed, would bring fuel and marble to Harlem for development, and there would be “cottages and villas with ample gardens and grounds belonging to city merchants where they can breathe the fresh air and have several acres for the price of a single lot of ground in the compact part of the city.”

Recognizing that there was a need to help those living south of Prince Street who “wanted to venture to the unexplored country about 14th Street,” the company was granted permission to construct the road south of 23rd Street. The one caveat was that nothing but horse power could ever be used south of 14th Street.

The earliest horse-drawn street cars of the New York & Harlem Rail Road had room for 40 passengers; 20 below and 20 on the roof.
The earliest horse-drawn street cars of the New York & Harlem Rail Road had room for 40 passengers; 20 safely below and 20 dangerously perched on the roof. Broad iron wheels fit along the flanges of the rails.

The first experimental ride from Prince Street to 14th Street took place on November 14, 1832, on a car called the John Mason (named for the president of the rail road company). A week later, the company advertised the service: “The cars will run upon the rails from Prince Street to Fourteenth Street, in the Bowery…for the purpose of affording evidence to the public of the expediency of using rail-roads within the city.”

The horse-drawn street cars were a big hit with the public–who mostly used the service for pleasure or out of curiosity–albeit, they were quite noisy. According to one news report, the sound could be heard up to 3 blocks away from the Bowery, on account of the granite ties on which the rails were laid. (Two years later, the granite was replaced with ties made of Georgia pine; the granite was cut up and used as gutter stones.)

A horse-drawn street car on the New York & Harlem Rail Road line around 1870.
A horse-drawn street car on the New York & Harlem Rail Road line around 1870.

So what does this story have to do with 241 Bowery? It turns out, the ticket office for the New York & Harlem Rail Road was in “a prim little two-story building” at 241 Bowery. The office was on the ground floor, and John S. Whigham, the superintendent, lived upstairs.

Horse-drawn street cars on the Bowery around 1870, prior to construction of the Third Avenue elevated line.
Horse-drawn street cars on the Bowery around 1870, prior to construction of the Third Avenue elevated line.

The NY&HRR line was extended to 32nd Street in 1833, to Yorkville by 1834, and to the Harlem River (Harlem Bridge on 4th Avenue) in 1837. In 1839, the company moved out of 241 Bowery and into a larger ticket office on Wall Street.

In the 1840s, the rail road company expanded the line through the counties of Westchester, Putnam, Dutchess, Columbia, and Rensselaer to the City of Albany. The first passenger train from New York to Albany took place on January 19, 1853. The New York and Harlem Railroad eventually became the New York Central Railroad and then the Metro North Harlem line service that we have today.

Bowery, horse-drawn streetcars, 1890
In 1890, when this photo on the Bowery was taken, the Third Avenue El offered an alternative mode of transportation, but the horse-drawn streetcars were still popular with the public. By this time, the Bowery was known for its flophouses, brothels, saloons, and pawnshops.

Incidentally, it was the construction of the Third Avenue elevated line in 1878 that coincided with the next era of 241 Bowery. Once the El train was in operation, most middle-class New Yorkers stayed away from the Bowery, and the neighborhood took a downward turn toward cheap entertainment in the form of dime museums, brothels, and saloons.

That year, a man by the name of Frank Hughes opened a sleazy saloon and brothel at 241 Bowery called the Sultan Divan. The male-oriented saloon advertised its beautiful barmaids and featured a Grand Barmaid’s Show every evening. The saloon also advertised that people could “see the elephant” at the Sultan Divan; whether this was an actual elephant or not, I cannot tell, but I have a feeling it was real.

During the mid-1800s, 241 Bowery was occupied by a three-story and one-story brick building.
During the mid-1800s, 241 Bowery (red arrow) was occupied by a three-story brick building and separate one-story brick building.

As an aside, note the tennis court at the bottom of this 1853 map above. I just had to find out what this was, and by typing in “233 Bowery” in the newspaper archives, I learned quite a lot.

The court behind the frame building at 233 Bowery was actually a “bat ball alley” owned by a man named H. Woolly. Woolly opened the court in 1846, advertising that “a four-handed match of ball for One Hundred Dollars” would be played there (the game was supposedly a cross between cricket and squash).

The “tennis court” was a 120-foot alley with a gallery for spectators, and Woolly would serve liquor and cigars to the patrons. In the 1850s, a large building on this site was called The Bowery Racket (sic) Court, which was actually a bowling saloon operated by Harmon C. Swift. In the 1860s, a professional cricket player named Harry Wright opened a cricket batting cage on the site.

The former tennis court was next the site of the Volks Garten Music Hall, managed by George J. Kraus until 1893. The building was then occupied by Conkling’s Museum of the Late War, but the museum didn’t last long. A few days after it opened, on November 23, 1895, a gas company meter inspector named James Hagan tried to read a meter with the help of a lit candle while investigating a gas leak in the basement. Boom.

Getting back to 241 Bowery:
In 1883, a man by the name of Beefsteak John (John Rudolph Haefler or Hoeffler) established an eating place in the now three-story brick building at 241 Bowery (his former eatery, which he established around 1869, was located in a basement on the corner of Houston Street and the Bowery). John’s sister Gertrude and her husband, Thomas Ehler, lived on the floor above, and John and his family lived on third floor. Several servants lived on a top floor, which was more like an attic.

Beefsteak John, who founded the city’s Beefsteak Club, kept a large drum stove in the center of a large room, and he served nothing but beefsteak and potatoes. Men would sit around the stove and drink beer with their steak and potatoes.

In October 1884, a fire broke out in a vat of hot fat (with pigs’ feet) in the adjacent one-story extension, which served as a kitchen. The fire spread and destroyed the rear of 241 Bowery, burning through the roof (perhaps this is why the building is only three stories today). The residents, especially the servants on the top floor, barely escaped with their lives via the roof, smoke-filled stairwells, fire ladders, and windows.

In the 1880s, 241 Bowery was occupied by two buildings.
In the 1880s, 241 Bowery was occupied by two brick buildings. Note the London Theatre and “Vokes Garden” next door.

In later years, 241 Bowery would be occupied by a gambling house and saloon operated by Dennis “Dinny” J. Sullivan (the police raided the saloon in 1900); another dive bar operated by James J. McDermott; and a “putrid dive” owned by a notorious gang leader named Frank “Chick” Tricker, who called his place the Flea Bag.

By the 1920s, the Bowery had more than 100 flophouses in a 16-block stretch. One of those flophouses was the Sunshine Hotel at 241 Bowery, which Frank Mazzara, a broom maker, opened in 1922.

In 2014, hotel owner Roseann Carone converted the second and third floors of 241 Bowery into commercial loft space (the 30 to 40 remaining hotel residents were relocated to the neighboring building at 239 Bowery).  A Greek eatery is on the ground floor.

The Sunshine Hotel at 241 Bowery in 1940. NYC Department of Records tax photo.
The Sunshine Hotel at 241 Bowery in 1940. NYC Department of Records tax photo.
241 Bowery in 2023 (Google Maps)
241 Bowery in 2023 (Google Maps)

A canine customer checks in the the Grisdale Hotel in 1920. New York Evening World
A canine customer checks in at the the Grisdale Hotel as Thomas Grisdale checks out his new guest. New York Evening World, 1920.

On September 23, 1962, Philharmonic Hall (now David Geffen Hall) opened with an inaugural concert featuring Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic. The concert hall was the first building of Lincoln Center to be completed as part of the Lincoln Square Renewal Project (1955-1969).

About 40 years earlier, this exact location on the Lincoln Center campus was the site of another type of concert: a canine concert of barks and howls from dogs of all breeds and sizes. The dogs were all guests of the Grisdale Hotel for Dogs at 132 West 65th Street. Today this is the address for the David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.

The hotel was run by Thomas Grisdale, aka The Dean of Gotham, a prominent dog dealer and award-winning exhibitor who specialized in bulldogs.

Born in Temple Sowerby in northern England in about 1865, Grisdale moved to Cleveland in 1885 and began showing dogs in 1888. After moving to New York, he worked for about 25 years as a breeder and exhibitor for William H. Newman, president of the New York Central Railroad. He apparently did such a good job watching Newman’s dogs, that the man rewarded the young Grisdale with an all-expense trip to London.

In 1912, Grisdale broke out on his own to start Gotham Kennels at 540 West 42nd Street (now a parking lot). The kennels were described as “the oldest established bulldog kennel in America,” where Grisdale sold “aristocratic dogs for aristocratic people.”

The Grisdale Hotel for Dogs was located in this building (left door) at 132 West 65th Street. Today this is the site of Lincoln Center.
The Grisdale Hotel for Dogs was located in this building (left door) at 132 West 65th Street. The Renaissance Revival building was designed by R.H. Robertson and constructed in 1881. NYC Department of Records 1940 tax photo.

Grisdale began his hotel for dogs at the Gotham Kennels sometime around 1915. In 1918, he leased a three-story and basement building at 132 West 65th Street from the owner, Janette Ida Luqueer Hurlbut. (Incidentally, it was in this same building that James H. Anderson founded the Amsterdam News on December 4, 1909.)

Thomas Grisdale attends to a canine guest, 132 West 65th Street.
Thomas Grisdale attends to a canine guest.

The hotel featured a reception room and lobby (decorated with paintings of dogs), as well as tiers of “rooms” made up daily by a maid. Canine guests with a day pass could retire to these rooms for afternoon naps and overnight guests would sleep in them at night.

During the day, when they weren’t playing or being walked, pups could relax in the lounging room or sun parlor.

At the Grisdale Hotel, there was also a beauty parlor of sorts for the lady dogs and a barber shop for the male dogs. A tea room where dainties were served in the afternoon, a hospital room for sick guests, and a dental hygiene room provided even the most pampered pooches with everything they could need during their stays.

According to Grisdale, the manicuring department was the busiest department in the hotel. The dental room, where a dog dentist cleaned the dogs’ teeth or pulled teeth as needed if the puppy had too many teeth, was also in demand. Grisdale explained, “In promising bull pups, as in children, the teeth are often too crowded, and it’s better to pull out one or two so as to make a good-looking mouth for shows.”

A dentist cleans Fido's teeth at the Grisdale Hotel for Dogs, 132 West 65th Street, 1920
A dentist cleans Fido’s teeth at the Grisdale Hotel for Dogs, 1920

When it came to food at the dog hotel, Grisdale said, it was “nothing but the best.”

Grisdale told a reporter that many of the dogs, whose mothers would leave them for a few days to “motor down to Long Island or Newport,” received too many sweets at home. These dogs were placed on a diet of eggs beaten in milk until some pounds came off. Then they were given the finest meat chopped finely, the best vegetables, and the most delectable and nourishing biscuits.

In addition to playtime, the dogs were walked every day. The hotel even had its own cab service with a cab specially built with a long bench on each side that was “just high enough for a gentlemanly canine to sit at his ease and look interestedly out of a plate glass window.”

For all these services, canine guests paid $1 a day for room, board, and attendance (the charge was $2 if the dog required additional grooming). Some smaller dogs could stay at the hotel all week for only $3. As the New York Evening World reporter observed, it was the only hotel in New York City with prices not affected by Prohibition.

When he wasn’t working at his kennels or the hotel, Thomas and his wife Emma (nee Martin) kept busy judging or showing their champion bulldogs at the various dog shows in America, Canada, and England. Thomas died in May 1937 at the age of 73. Emma, who was about 26 years younger, continued living in the city and showing dogs. She passed in 1980.

Portraits of Thomas Grisdale's dogs Gotham Sensible Fred and Dominion Fortitude.
Portraits of Thomas Grisdale’s dogs Warfleigh Sensible Fred and Dominion Fortitude.
Thomas and Emma Grisdale with Prince of Wales and Warfleigh Sensible Fred leaving for Liverpool, England, on the Franconia in 1926.
Thomas and Emma Grisdale with their Canadian and American bulldog champions, Prince of Wales and Warfleigh Sensible Fred, leaving for Liverpool, England, on the Franconia in 1926.

A Brief History of West 65th Street and Lincoln Center

Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts was the culmination of the Lincoln Square Renewal Project, which displaced more than 7,000 families and 800 businesses within 18 blocks of a neighborhood called Lincoln Square, aka, San Juan Hill. This neighborhood was bounded by Amsterdam and West End Avenues between 59th and 65th Streets.

The recorded history of this part of New York City goes back to 1667, when Sir Richard Nicholls granted a patent for a vast amount of land on the west side of Manhattan to Johannes Van Brugh, Thomas Hall, John Vigne, Egbert Wouters, and Jacob Leanders. In the late 1700s, this area was known as Bloemendaal or Blooming Dale–the valley of flowers.

Bloomingdale Road at 59th Street, looking north, 1861. New York Public Library Digital Collections
Bloomingdale Road (Broadway) at 59th Street, looking north, in 1861. New York Public Library Digital Collections

One hundred years later, in 1785, the Van Brugh land (318 acres) was conveyed to John Somerindike for $2,500 by the Commissioners of Forfeiture. From that point it was called the Somerindike (or Somarindyck) Farm. To the immediate north was the small hamlet of Harsenville.

John Somarindyck’s house was located on Tenth Avenue between present-day 61st and 62nd Streets (near red circle)
John Somarindyck’s house was located on Tenth Avenue between present-day 61st and 62nd Streets (near red circle ). His barn was on the east side of Tenth Avenue. The hamlets of Bloomingdale Square and Harsenville are also noted on this 1836 J.H. Colton map.

By 1817, the parcel of land where Lincoln Center now stands was owned by John George Gottsberger, an Austrian businessman who had arrived in America in 1811. In fact, the building that may have been Gottsberger’s country home (see below) would have literally been across the street from the Grisdale Hotel for dogs.

West 65th Street, Randal Farm Map
Randal Farm Map, 1818-1820.

The last farm of record in this area was the John Low farm, bounded by 59th and 62nd Streets, the west side of Tenth Avenue, and the Hudson River. Due to its rocky topography, this area did not experience development until the mid-19th century.

Over the years, from the 1880s to the 1950s, the building at 132 West 65th Street was occupied by immigrants from many countries, including Germany, England, Switzerland, Turkey, Ireland, Russia, and the Philippines. The building was last occupied by one household with 12 boarders from Norway, Ireland, and Puerto Rico.

In 1940, the New York City Housing Authority called the San Juan Hill neighborhood “the worst slum section in the City of New York” and made plans to demolish all the old tenements. Nine years later, the Housing Act of 1949 was passed by President Truman under his Fair Deal. Title I, “Slum Clearance and Community Development and Redevelopment,” allowed local governments to take land considered to be slums under eminent domain and sell it to private investors to redevelop.

The act created a perfect opportunity for Robert Moses, who was able to frame San Juan Hill as a slum neighborhood in order to secure sponsors and approval for the Lincoln Center project. City officials called it “the greatest cultural development of our time.”

1956 map of the proposed campus for the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts.
1956 map of the proposed campus for the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts.
In 1959, crowds gather for the groundbreaking of Lincoln Center. LIFE Photo Collections.
In May 1959, crowds gathered for the groundbreaking of the Philharmonic Hall at Lincoln Center. I doubt that anyone knew that a hotel for dogs once stood under their feet. LIFE Photo Collections.

Fun Fact:

On May 24, 1962, a tuning test took place at Philharmonic Hall to test the acoustics and vibrations. The 2,612 auditorium seats were filled with ragdolls, some which were wired to see if there were any dead spots in the auditorium. A series of cannon shots were fired from the stage.

Prior to this test, before the buildings on West 65th Street were even demolished, vibration measurements were taken in the cellar of Harvey’s Bar at Broadway and West 65th. Those measurements were compared with similar measurements in the basement of the new hall. This test was conduced to see if subway rumblings would be heard in the hall. The results showed that the vibrations were less in the hall than they had been in the bar; the results showed that sounds of the subway would not be heard in the Philharmonic Hall.

The construction of Philharmonic Hall at Lincoln Center.
The construction of Philharmonic Hall at Lincoln Center. The Grisdale Hotel for dogs once stood on this site–I wonder if the workers dug up any old dog bones?

The police reserves of the Stagg Street station in Williamsburg were called into action one summer night in 1925 to quash a fight among some special feline inmates and their beloved mascot, Spark Plug.

This is not Spark Plug, but I love this vintage kitty and the name fits him!

Spark Plug was a Tom cat described as “a high-class cat with a well-established pedigree, going back for one generation on his mother’s side.” He had never been a stray cat and he was not about to share his territory with any interlopers.

So when the police began incarcerating stray cats in the jail cells at the Stagg Street station, he was none too pleased to share his home with the mongrel intruders. He was willing to put up a good fight to preserve his domain.

Why were cats locked up in jail cells meant for humans in the first place, you ask?

The problem began with a few empty lots on Scholes Street, between Humboldt Street and Bushwick Avenue. These empty lots were just one block from the Stagg Street police station.

In the early 1920s, these lots were used as a dumping ground for spoiled food scraps, old mattresses and shoes, and all types of garbage. The dumps attracted large rats, which in turn attracted all of Williamsburg’s stray cats.

Alderman John J. McCusker ordered the lots to be cleared and fenced in. The police of the Stagg Street station were also ordered to patrol the lots and arrest anyone caught dumping garbage.

There were a few problems with the fencing (see photo below). For one thing, they weren’t high enough to stop people from throwing their trash into the lots. And they weren’t narrow enough to stop the rats and the cats from getting in.

Scholes Street between Humboldt Street and Bushwick Avenue
NYPL
Empty lots like this one of the north side of Scholes Street between Humboldt Street and Bushwick Avenue attracted garbage, rats, and cats. The fences did not deter anyone. NYPL Digital Collections

By the summer of 1925, the neighborhood was overrun with stray cats. Tired of finding overturned milk bottles in their doorways and waking up to cat howls, residents turned to the police for help. That summer, the patrolmen of the Stagg Street station became cat catchers.

The plan was to have the police catch the cats and keep them in the jail cells until the SPCA could come and cart them away to their sad final destinations. The plan did not take into consideration that a mascot named Spark Plug ruled the roost.

Police Try Hand at Cat Catching Stagg Street Station, 1925

On the night of June 20, there were three large Tom cats in one of the police station’s 10 jail cells. Spark Plug “became furious with this breaking down of the social lines.” He snarled and spit and thrust his paws between the bars, determined to cause harm to the prisoners.

As the Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported, “The inmates on their part considered that their constitutional rights had been violated by being thus imprisoned without even a chance to consult counsel. Utterly ignoring the higher social status of Spark Plug, they spit back and also snarled and directed their combined paw-power against their attacker.”

Luckily for Spark Plug and the other Tom cats, two reserve police officers came to their mascot’s rescue and carted him off to the detective’s room. He remained a prisoner in that room until the SPCA took the unwanted feline guests away.

Humboldt and Scholes Streets, 1937
Humboldt and Scholes Streets, where stray cats once roamed, in 1937. NYPL Digital Collections

Ten years after this story took place, 568 buildings on approximately 25 acres between Maujer, Scholes, Leonard Streets, and Bushwick Avenue were demolished to make way for the Williamsburg Houses, originally called the Ten Eyck Houses. The development, built in 1936–1938 under the auspices of the Housing Division of the Public Works Administration, comprises 20 four-story residential buildings plus courtyards, playgrounds, a school, and a community building on twelve city blocks.

Approximately 5,400 residents were relocated from the neighborhood when their homes were demolished. The press did not report on how many cats were also forced to relocate.

A Brief History of the Stagg Street Police Station

The police station of what was originally the 6th Precinct occupied the southeast corner of Stagg Street and Morrell Street (Bushwick Avenue). This land had once been part of the Abraham Meserole farm.

Abraham Meserole was born in 1725, in what was then the town of Bushwick, Brooklyn. His father was Jean John Meserole and his mother was Elizabeth Praa.

The Stagg Street police station, 1922.
The Stagg Street police station, 1922.

The Meserole family arrived in the area in the seventeenth century, as part of a second wave of French Huguenot immigrants to arrive in Greenpoint. The Meseroles were one of five families who first settled in what are now the Greenpoint and Williamsburg neighborhoods.

The family was lead by Jean Meserole, who came to New Amsterdam in 1663 with his wife, Jonica Carten, and their infant son, Jan, on a ship called De Bonte Koe (the Spotted Cow). Jean bought a farm in New Utrecht (now Bay Ridge) in 1667.

A few years earlier, around 1660-61, Governor Peter Stuyvesant had begun advising the Brooklyn farming families to concentrate themselves in one area to provide protection against the Natives, who he said “had slain several of our Netherland people.” For the French Huguenot families, he selected land between Newtown and Bushwick Creeks, giving the area the name of Boswijck, meaning heavy woods, as the region was heavily forested.

Hearing that there was available land in Boswijck, Jean moved his family to a 107-acre farm along the East River, between North 1st Street and Broadway. He called it the Kyckout farm (Kyckout translates to Lookout). He built a house on the bluff, right about where the Williamsburg Bridge passes now. (In later years, the home was reportedly a favorite retreat for Billy the Kid.)

A large portion of this farm was purchased by David Molenaer (Miller), who expanded the small Meserole house in the mid-18th century (see illustration below). This home was demolished around 1864.

The Old Miller House
The west “wing” of the Miller house was the original Meserole home. The house was along the East River, right about near today’s North 4th Street. From “A History of the Town of Bushwick” (1884).

Sometime prior to the Revolutionary War, Abraham, the grandson of Jean Meserole, acquired about 40 city blocks of land from the heirs of Barnet Johnson, who had died in 1742. This land was then in the old town of Bushwick, which was incorporated into the Village of Williamsburg in 1827.

In 1845, that portion of his land bounded by Leonard Street, Ten Eyck Street, Stagg Street, and Bushwick Avenue (Morrell) was sold to Anthony Betts, Abraham’s son-in-law. From that point, the property was sold off in parcels and developed.

It was on a small corner of this land that the Stagg Street police station was built in 1861 for the Sixth Precinct.

The property of Abraham Meserole included a wedge of land at Bushwick Avenue and Stagg Street,
The property of Abraham Meserole included a wedge of land at Bushwick Avenue and Stagg Street, where the police station was constructed. 1874 map, NYPL Digital Collections

In 1852, the Sixth Precinct comprised the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Wards, known then as Dutchtown and encompassing neighborhoods called Picklesville and The Swamp. The original station house was on Ten Eyck Street, between present-day Manhattan and Graham Avenues. There were nine men assigned to this precinct at this time (the number rose to 36 following consolidation with the City of Brooklyn in 1855).

In 1856, the City of Brooklyn purchased the southeast lot at Stagg Street and what was then called Morrell Street (Bushwick Avenue) from Judge Daniel H. Feeks for just over $2,000. A new station house, three stories high with a two-story rear extension, opened on this property in January 1861. It was called the Stagg Street station, as the front door was on the side street.

Location of Stagg Street police station
The Stagg Street station is circled in blue. Morrell Street, opened in 1853, ran from the Newtown Turnpike (Flushing Avenue) to Maujer Street until Bushwick Avenue was straightened in 1860.

The building was brick with brownstone lintels. It featured a private bedroom for the captain and two bedrooms for the sergeants on the first floor, a sitting room and back room for the 5th District Court on the second floor, and four sleeping apartments to accommodate 24 men on the top floor. The lower floor of the extension had 10 cells (for humans and cats) and sleeping apartments for the homeless on the second floor.

The Stagg Street police station in 1940. NYC Department of Records.
The Stagg Street police station in 1940. NYC Department of Records.

In 1954, the Stagg Street station, then the 85th Precinct, was ordered shut down by Police Commissioner F.W.H. Adams. The building was converted into a youth center for juvenile delinquents in 1955. The building was demolished and replaced by a two-story hotel in 1971.

Bushwick Hotel
The Bushwick Hotel

 

J

On July 15, 1927, Brooklyn Borough President James J. Byrne pulled a lever switch at Prospect and Fourth Avenues, placing all the new traffic light signals on Fourth Avenue from Flatbush Avenue to 86th Street in operation. Several thousand people witnessed the ceremony and grand event.

The new electric traffic lights were confusing to some motorists and pedestrians. But not to Nickie*, the black cat of Motorcycle Squad No. 2 adjoining the former 18th Precinct police station on the southwest corner of 4th Avenue and 43rd Street in Brooklyn’s Sunset Park.

By September 1927, Nickie had the whole red-light, green-light thing all figured out.

Sunset Park police station
The Motorcycle Squad was attached to the Fourth Avenue police station in Sunset Park. The castle-like station was completed in 1892, the same year an almost identical police station opened on Liberty Avenue in Brooklyn.

Nickie, described as the “mouse catcher extraordinary of the neighborhood,” frequently left his place of business in the garage of the Motorcycle Squad to visit the lunch wagon across from the police station. There, he would do some work catching mice and rats in exchange for some lamb chops and other tasty morsels.

Prior to the installation of the traffic lights, walking to the lunch wagon was a hazardous undertaking for Nickie. The Motorcycle Squad cat would have to quickly dash across the northbound side and then stop on the ventilation island to catch his breath before dashing across the southbound side of the road.

Prospect and 4th Avenue Brooklyn
Brooklyn Borough President James J. Byrne pulled a lever switch at Prospect and Fourth Avenues, pictured here in 1941.

Soon after the lights went into operation, Nickie’s life became a lot easier—and a lot safer. Now, every time he got ready to cross the busy street, the cat would look up and down the avenue.

If he saw the green lights showing, he would wait patiently at the curb. As soon as the lights changed to red, he would “calmly, majestically” stride across the street, “undaunted by the waiting motor cars, impatiently held, like at leash ready to spring at him at the first showing of a green light.”

According to the cat’s caretaker, Detective John McGowan, Nickie seemed to know that the automobiles had to wait for him when the light was red, and he knew exactly how long it would take for the red light to soften to yellow and then to green.

A Brief History of the NYPD Motorcycle Squad

NYPD Motorcycle Squad Officers, 1920
NYPD Motorcycle Squad Officers, 1920

In 1905, New York City installed its first five traffic lights (at Colum­bus Circle, the Pennsylvania Railroad Ferry on West 23rd Street, Times Square, Broadway and 72nd Street, and Amsterdam Ave­nue and 73rd Street). That same year, the newly organized Traffic Squad had 581 men assigned to traffic duty, including 7 mounted roundsmen and 69 mounted patrolmen (the police stables were at 17 Leonard Street), 2 bicycle roundsmen and 9 bicycle patrolmen, and hundreds of foot patrolmen.

Although the Traffic Squad continued to expand over the next few years, and the city continued adding more traffic lights, the lights and the squad were not enough to regulate the excessive motorized traffic and the increasing number of law-breaking speeders.

8th New York City Police Commissioner Rhinelander Waldo established first Motorcycle Squad
8th New York City Police Commissioner Rhinelander Waldo.

On June 9, 1911, only 17 days after he took office, Police Commissioner Waldo Rhinelander established the department’s first motorcycle squad. Organized under the “Office of Street Traffic Regulation Bureau” and originally attached to the Traffic Squad, the cops of the Motorcycle Squad supplemented the futile efforts of the pedal-pushing cops of the Bicycle Squad (founded in 1895 by then Commissioner Theodore Roosevelt) in apprehending speeders.

Within a 5-month period, the motorcycle police had written 3,710 summonses for close to $18,000 in fines (the average fine for a traffic violation in 1911 was about $5). By 1912, the squad comprised 27 patrolmen, 1 sergeant, and 25 motorcycles scattered throughout various precincts.

Eventually, the squad was divided into 3 squads, with Squad No. 1 covering Manhattan, the Bronx, and Staten Island; Squad No. 2 assigned to Brooklyn; and Squad No. 3 covering Queens. By 1930, the Motorcycle Squad had grown to about 315 officers, 289 motorcycles, 28 sidecars, and two sedans.

The squad merged with the Accident Investigation Squad in 1972 to become the NYPD Highway Patrol. 

*Nickie was not the cat’s actual name. Like many all-black animals of the nineteenth and early 20th centuries, the cat’s given name is now an offensive ethnic slur.

Tabby was just a typical landlubber cat who worked as a mouser in Eltingville, Staten Island, when she embarked on an amazing journey more fit for a seafarer cat like Olaf the Viking cat. Although she lived through three storms while at sea, she never lost even one of her nine lives during her nine days on the water in the Sandy Hook Bay and North Atlantic Ocean.

Tabby lived near what is now Crescent Beach in the village of Eltingville, located on the southern shores of Staten Island. One day in March 1884, the cat made the mistake of following the three children she lived with to the beach. They tossed her into a small rowboat and pushed the boat from the shore.

The rotten little kids told the reporter they were only trying to have some fun, and to see what would happen when the cat became frightened.

Within minutes, a strong wind and the tide began carrying the boat out of sight. It headed toward Sandy Hook in New Jersey. Tabby could only sit back and try to survive the adventure.

Ten days later, a small fishing boat anchored off Eltingville, with the small rowboat in tow. A lone sailor emerged from the boat, carrying Tabby in his arms. The sailor told the press he had found the boat drifting about 70 miles southeast of Sandy Hook.

Apparently, Tabby survived by eating a few flounders that had been left behind on the boat before she left on her journey. The three late-winter storms filled a bailing pan with rainwater, so Tabby had plenty of fresh water to drink.

March 3, 1884

According to the mariner, Tabby was sitting in the bow of the boat when he rescued her. She immediately jumped into his boat, seemingly pleased to have been rescued. Fortunately, the rowboat owner’s name was painted on the boat, allowing the sailor to return the boat to Eltingville.

Hopefully the cat found a new home with better-behaved children when she returned.

Incidentally, at about the same time this story of Tabby appeared in the news, another story was published about a reported sea serpent sighting off the shores of Eltingville. According to the story, the village constable, Elbert L. Poillon, was standing on the the beach with John Fisher and his son when they saw what appeared to be a large log drifting toward them.

The three men got into a boat and approached the moving object. One of the men dipped his oar into the water, causing the sea monster to whip its head around and crush it in half. The men told a reporter they thought the creature was about 25 feet long.

Neighbors accused the constable and Fisher of making up the big fish tale, but the men appeared before the justice of the peace to swear to their testimony.

The next big Eltingville story to make the news was in January 1908, when Miss Helen Wilcox, wearing only a bathing suit, took a two-minute swim in the 30-degree ocean waters on a bet.

A Brief History of Eltingville, Staten Island

Once known as South Side (the name of its post office up to 1873) and then as Sea Side, Eltingville is named for the Elting family of the Province of Drenthe (Netherlands). The first newspaper reference to the village of Eltingville was in 1882; in fact, one of the very first stories to mention the town was this story about Tabby. Several newspapers across the country–and even England–picked up the story in 1884.

The Elting family reportedly settled in New Paltz, New York, in the early 1700s. Following the Revolutionary War, many New Paltz residents, including the Hasbroucks and Eltings, emigrated north to Albany, south to Orange County, or to the County of Richmond (Staten Island).

The beach at ELtingville, Staten Island
The beach at Eltingville, Staten Island

Considering the town was named for this family, there is surprisingly very little information published about the Eltings, although their name does show up on old maps and old property records. Elting is a common name that appears in Ulster County records, and Richmond County indices from the nineteenth century also show numerous properties bought and sold by Elting and Kolff Development Company (Cornelius C. Kolff).

In New Paltz, the Elting (aka Eltinge) family goes back to Roelif Eltinge, a Huguenot who was one of the first patentees of New Paltz, Ulster County.

The Jesse M. Elting house in New Paltz in the late 1800s.
The Jesse M. Elting house in New Paltz in the late 1800s.

Another family member in Ulster County was Noah Elting, who received a patent from King George II in 1747. Noah operated a ferry boat landing in the hamlet of Highland on the Hudson River. In the 1790s and early 1800s, the ferry was the only way for people to get to Poughkeepsie from the hamlet.

Old Staten Island maps show that the N. Elting estate was on Amboy Road on the north and south side of the Staten Island Rail Road, near present-day Richmond Avenue (Seaside Avenue on the map below). I’m not sure, however, if the N stands for Noah or if this Elting was even directly related to Noah Elting of New Paltz.

1874 Beers map. NYPL Digital Collections

In later years, the property was owned by Cornelius W.H. Elting (between present-day Bamberger Lane and Waimer Place). Cornelius was born in Ulster County in 1843, the son of Cornelius H. and Catherine Elting. According to census reports, he and his family were living in Westfield, Staten Island, by 1855.

Cornelius W.H. Elting was a contractor and an office builder involved in Staten Island real estate development. His residence of record was at 2098 Fifth Avenue in Harlem, where he served as president of the Harlem Board of Commerce.

Eltingville map 1907
The Elting property is in the center of the map, on the north and south sides of the railroad tracks. Washington Avenue is now Arden Avenue. 1907 Robinson map. NYPL Digital Collections

Cornelius was married to Rachel Ann Van Buren, who died in 1907, just four years after her husband’s death. According to an article in the New Paltz Independent about Mrs. Elting’s passing, it was Cornelius’ ancestors who in fact founded Eltingville. Mrs. Elting bequeathed a large portion of her estate, which included property in Eltingville, to the YMCA of the State of New York.

Cornelius and Rachel Elting are buried in Woodlawn Cemetery, Bronx.

Eltingville Train Station
The Staten Island Railroad from Vanderbilt Landing opened in 1860; at that time, the last stop was Eltingville. Advertisements for the service said trains ran three times per day (twice on Sundays), to meet with the ferry from Manhattan. NYPL Digital Collections

In addition to the Staten Island Railroad, which opened in 1860, wooden plank roads added in 1850 also made Eltingville more accessible for summer residents and vacationers. The beach at Eltingville became known for excellent boating, fishing, and bathing.

Evening World, October 1915

The village began steadily developing in 1915, when Wood, Harmon & Co. began selling $1000 acre lots on 150 acres of land called Eltingville Acres near the train station. The company placed large ads in newspapers promoting the opportunity for those who aspired to be small farmers to own an acre of pristine land in the city.

The developers boasted the large peach orchard on the northeast portion, a twenty-acre wooded grove of oak, beech, and maple trees, a great plain of fine soil, a beautiful brook meandering through the land, and of course the beach only one mile away.

Fun fact: In 1917, the largest underwater telephone cable in the world was completed across the Raritan Bay, from Eltingville to Keansburg, NJ, a distance of 5.5 miles.

An aerial view of Eltingville in 1968, showing the intersection of Amboy Road and Richmond Avenue. Staten Island Historical Society
An aerial view of Eltingville in 1968, showing the intersection of Amboy Road and Richmond Avenue. Note the train station at left; the Elting property would have been where the vacant land is shown at the bottom of this photo. Staten Island Historical Society