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97 Orchard Street
Contents
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Orchard Street
Ninety-seven (97) Orchard
Street
Architectural History
Ninety-seven Orchard Street and its neighbors
on either side (nos. 95 and 99) were built in 1863-64. They were
the first tenements on the block and replaced a Presbyterian Church,
reflecting the changing ethnicity of the neighborhood - from American-born
(largely of English, Scottish, and Protestant Irish descent) to
German-born residents.
Ninety-seven Orchard is a five-story brick building decorated
with "Italianate-style" architectural elements. The
brownstone ornamentation is largely composed of stock elements
which can be found on numerous other tenement buildings. Like
many tenements of its time, its architect was never recorded.
But the structure of the building is quite simple: two brick-masonry
walls, spanned by wooden beams, twelve or sixteen inches thick,
stand upon a foundation of stone, two feet thick.
When 97 Orchard Street was built, it had twenty apartments and
two basement-level storefronts. Each floor had four three-room
apartments, two in the front and two in the back of the building.
When it was constructed, 97 Orchard Street had no indoor plumbing,
no gas, and only one room in each apartment benefited from direct
sunlight. Each apartment was, however, equipped with two fireplaces.
Originally, the doors in the main hallway of 97 Orchard Street,
both front and back, did not have glass or "glazing"
to let in light
97 Orchard Street also originally had an iron fire escape affixed
to the front of the building. In back, a party balcony was constructed
for the northwest apartments and a standard fire escape for the
southwest apartments, which was located where the stair tower
is today. Although 97 Orchard Street was built before the advent
of housing laws in New York City and the United States, building
laws that ensured fire safety required Lucas Glockner to provide
his first tenants with a safe way to exit the building in case
of fire. In an era when poor enforcement of such regulations was
all too common, he likely did so because he was also among the
first residents of 97 Orchard Street, and would have wanted to
ensure the safety of his own family.
Few structural changes were made to the building during the nineteenth
century. While sewer lines were dug under Orchard Street before
the building was built, the landlord of 97 Orchard wasn't charged
for connection to the system until 1899. The school sink (outhouses)
located in the rear yard was probably connected to the sewers
when 97 Orchard Street was built. Gas lines were brought into
neighborhood by the 1880s, but there were no housing laws requiring
a landlord to install either indoor plumbing or gas before 1901.
Therefore, it is unlikely they were installed in 97 Orchard before
the twentieth century. Electricity wasn't available in the building
until around 1924.
The first major alterations to the building probably came in the
wake of the 1901 Housing Law (see appendix D). Otto Reissman,
an architect, filed papers with the City to make most of the changes
required by this new law to the building in 1905. A skylight was
installed at the top of the stairway, an air shaft on one side
of the building, two water-closets off the hallway on each floor
(and ventilated by the air shaft), and sash windows in all of
the interior walls. Sash windows were meant to bring light and
air from the outer to inner rooms of the apartments.
In order to install the toilet facilities, a space was "stolen"
in the 2 neighboring apartments. The loss of space in the affected
apartments required the walls between kitchens and bedrooms to
be moved. The toilet rooms and shaft occupied a substantial part
of the old bedrooms of 97 Orchard Street and similar buildings,
making these inner rooms uninhabitable. To alleviate this problem,
but keep a three-room arrangement in each apartment, the partitions
between the kitchen and bedroom in all of the south apartments
at 97 Orchard Street were rearranged. Each of the new inner bedrooms
was provided with a window onto the new shaft. This work was undertaken
by architect Otto Reissmann. Little is known about Reissmann except
that he established his office in about 1897 and continued in
practice until at least 1930. Reissmann was one of a number of
architects who specialized in tenement work and whose offices
were on the Lower East Side. He was the architect most active
on Orchard Street in undertaking the required alterations to accommodate
water closets. Of the 44 buildings on Orchard Street for which
water-closet documentation has been found, ten were altered by
Reissmann between 1904 and 1908. The work of reconfiguring the
apartments impacted by the addition of toilets was done as inexpensively
as possible and a great deal of woodwork and other old material
was reused in the reconstruction.
The residents of 97 Orchard Street do not appear to have nailed
shut the windows that open onto the toilet airshaft, though this
seems to have been a method employed by residents of other tenements
to deal with the foul-smelling air emanating from the air shaft.
Entirely enclosed on all four sides and rising the full height
of the building, these air shafts seldom met their ostensible
purpose of providing light and air to the toilets and inside rooms.
Tenement dwellers on the upper floors sometimes threw their garbage
down into the shafts, where it was left to rot.
At this time we believe the landlord also made some changes in
the building that were not required by law. The landlord turned
the front apartments on the first floor into commercial spaces
and added two new entrances to the building on the stoop. It is
also possible that the ornamentation visible in the public hallways
today was added at this time. The original front of the building
probably looked as 99 Orchard Street does today.
Ninety-seven Orchard functioned as a tenement until 1935. At that
time, the landlord closed the apartments rather than comply with
the requirements of the latest housing laws. The upper floors
were closed off and used for storage, while the four storefronts
(two on the ground floor and two in on the stoop level) remained
in use. In 1988, 97 Orchard Street became the home of the Lower
East Side Tenement Museum.
(Source: Andrew Dolkart, "97 Orchard Street:
Architecture and History" )
Wallpaper
and Paint at 97 Orchard Street
In the late 1880s, Wallpaper began to replace paint on the parlor
walls of apartments in 97 Orchard Street. In some cases, the owner
may have put up the wallpaper in order to keep the apartments
fashionably up-to-date (the same pattern appears in several different
apartments indicating that that the owner may have purchased a
large number of wallpaper rolls), but in other cases tenants apparently
added wallpaper in order to beautify the room. Wallpaper patterns
include popular 19th-20th century floral, striped, and scrollwork
patterns, and many of the walls were highlighted with borders.
Parlor ceilings were also frequently papered, but fewer layers
are extant, perhaps because gravity resulted in the papers peeling
off.
Lead paint was used at 97 Orchard Street beginning in the mid-1870s,
replacing calcimine, up until the building was closed in 1935.
It does not pose a danger to visitors, unless s/he ingested a
considerable amount orally.
(see also: The
Wallpaper Excavation)
Privies at 97 Orchard Street
While most of the buildings on the Lower East Side during the
mid-nineteenth century had primitive privy pits, 97 Orchard Street
featured a more modern sewer-connected privy. Sewer-connected
privies consisted of a hopper, or funnel, that rose out of the
floor and allowed waste to drop below. The hopper led to a water-filled
trough or vault, which was periodically flushed into the sewer.
In the 1860s, inspectors with the Metropolitan Board of Health
praised the sewer-connected privy for helping to maintain the
"salubrious" living conditions in New York's 10th Ward,
in which 97 Orchard Street is located. It is possible that the
more sanitary and progressive school sinks were chosen over privy
pits because Lucas Glockner lived at 97 Orchard Street and wanted
the best for his family and his tenants. Or perhaps he was thinking
in terms of cost efficiency; the night soil men who carried away
the waste from privy pits charged outrageous fees and the $10
sewer connection may have been cheaper and less work in the long
run.1
Located in the rear yard of 97 Orchard Street, a wooden-frame
building flush against the north wall of the yard held the building's
privy facilities. Positioned in a row, it contained three compartments,
roughly 2 feet 6 inches wide by 3 feet 9 inches deep, divided
by wooden partitions. Each compartment had door with a small hole
and a lock. The floors, seats, and casing between the floors and
seats in each compartment were likewise made of wood. Below this
structure, underground, sat a narrow, rectangular, mortared brick
vault, 12 feet long and 41/2 feet wide, filled with water. Each
compartment of the privy had a funnel connecting the seat with
the vault below, allowing waste to fall into the water-filled
vault. The brick vault had a drain on the east end, which connected
to the sewer system. The drain was stopped with an iron cylindrical
hollow plug, about 1 foot in height, and a bar and rod used to
lift it out of the drain. There was also a pipe that was connected
to the vault, which provided water from the Croton Aqueduct to
periodically flush out the school sink privies.2
Before the development of the sewer system, New Yorkers did not
have toilets with pipes to carry away their waste. Instead, they
used privies, also called outhouses, backhouses, loos, necessaries,
houses of office and many other names. These were small shacks
located in the yards outside people's homes. They had one or more
seats inside and a pit or cesspool in the ground below. In crowded
neighborhoods like the Lower East Side, privies were often shared
by multiple families. Early cesspools and pits underneath privies
were not lined or watertight. The waste deposited and stored there
easily seeped into the ground and contaminated the water supply.3
To make waste disposal more sanitary, privies were required by
municipal regulation to have pits that were "constructed
of brick or stone, and at least ten feet in depth from the surface
of the ground." Allowing the contents to rise more than two
feet above the surface could bring a twenty-five-dollar fine to
the owner or occupants of a particular building. Tenement landlords
could hire companies to empty privy pits and transport the contents
to four designated piers, where the waste would be dumped into
a nearby river. At nightfall, these laborers, known as night soil
men, used buckets to empty privy pits and then poured the contents
into open carts. Whenever these carts appeared, New Yorkers frequently
closed their windows, even during the hot summer months.4
By the 1860s, many tenements had adopted sewer-connected outhouses,
sometimes called school sinks, privy vaults with sewer connection,
and privy sinks. Considered more sanitary than privies with pits
or cesspools, they did not contaminate drinking water and did
not require carting companies to empty them. Health inspector
Roger Tracy reported that "school sinks, which are shallow
metallic troughs, with a plug to keep them full of water, and…allow…frequent
cleansing, have found great favor where it was desirable to leave
as little possible to the care and faithfulness of tenants."5
In the days when toilets were located outside, chamber pots were
a familiar site in most American households. Chamber pots were
used as an alternative to going outside during the night or bad
weather. In urban areas, people often used them to avoid filthy
outhouses or trekking down several flights of stairs. Sometimes
they threw the contents of their chamber pot out of the window
or didn't empty them at all. Sanitary covers could be purchased
to prevent the escape of odors from chamber pots. An 1899, law
made leaving waste in a chamber pot or anywhere in an apartment
for a lengthy period of time illegal.6
Despite the presence of relatively healthy sanitary conditions
in this part of New York in the 1860s, successive waves of immigrants
pushed the limits of sanitation on the Lower East Side as the
century wore on. A crowded street was not usually a clean one.
At the turn of the century, pushcarts, roaming animals and piles
of trash dominated this block. Waste disposal was a major problem
and the placement of overflowing privies next to water sources
contributed vastly to diseases and terrible epidemics: cholera,
yellow fever, diphtheria, and common diarrhea. Partly as a result,
the infant mortality rate was as high as 40%. 7
The connection between contaminated water and disease was not
discovered until the late nineteenth century. Even then, "germ
theory" was not widely accepted. Instead, medical professionals
attributed cholera and similar diseases to "intemperance"
in eating and drinking, lustful and lewd behavior, as well as
dirt and fermenting garbage on the streets of the city. In the
first half of the nineteenth century, cholera was also perceived
in spiritual terms, as a pestilence employed by God to cleanse
the human race of its sins.8
Although many native New Yorkers blamed immigrants for disease,
they knew they themselves were not immune to epidemics. As they
began to realize that the living conditions of immigrants threatened
the health of their own families, many became involved in tenement
and sanitary reform. In 1864, a year after 97 Orchard Street was
constructed, wealthy New Yorkers including banker August Belmont
and millionaire industrialist Peter Cooper formed the Citizen's
Association to reform municipal government and force it to actively
involve itself in the tenement house "problem." The
Citizen's Association put together a Council of Hygiene and Public
Health to survey and report on the sanitary conditions of the
city. Completed in 1865, the Report of the Citizen's Association
of New York upon the Sanitary of Conditions of the City consisted
of over three hundred pages, much of it describing the filthy
tenement neighborhoods with their lack of adequate bathroom facilities.
It concluded that the city's sanitary policies needed a major
overhaul if future crises were to be avoided.9
With the threat of another cholera outbreak on the horizon, and
influenced by the 1865 sanitary report, the New York State legislature
passed a health bill establishing the Metropolitan Board of Health
in February 1866. Larger, better organized, and equipped with
greater power than its municipal predecessor, the Metropolitan
Board of Health devoted most of its time and energy to inspecting
the yards and interiors of tenement houses. By the end of 1866,
health inspectors claimed to have emptied and disinfected more
than 15,000 privies in Manhattan.10
Garbage
During the 19th century, typical urban living conditions characterized
by accumulating piles of manure, rubbish, slops and waste dumped
directly into the street. Filth, garbage, and its accompanying
odors helped divide the relatively clean and healthy residences
of the wealthy from the dank and dirty tenements of the working-class
and poor.
Residents of working-class neighborhoods like the Lower East Side
were supposed to place their garbage in garbage-boxes set in front
of the tenement building, but these boxes were "not at all
sufficient for the people disposed to be cleanly." Even when
they were available, and they were often not, they frequently
proved to be less than ideal. In 1863, the New York Tribune reported
that garbage boxes were little more than receptacles of "heterogeneous
filth…forming one festering, rotting, loathsome, hellish mass
of air poisoning, death-breeding filth, reeking on the fierce
sunshine."
Throughout the 19th century, health agencies and reformers were
periodically moved to action by the threat of great epidemics.
These sudden, catastrophic events compelled both politicians and
businessmen to undertake sanitary improvements to the urban environment.
According to historian Steven J. Correy, "A central historical
and political debate throughout the 19th century was whether garbage
collection and street cleaning were best left to private enterprise,
with city contracts let to private companies, or whether they
should be viewed as a public responsibility-under public control
and employing municipal workers."
Before 1872, responsibility for street cleaning and waste collection
was assumed by a succession of public and private ventures. Political
ties figured strongly in the awarding of contracts to carting
operations, and the city often took over for contractors who performed
inadequately. Waste collection and street cleaning were handled
by the Metropolitan Board of Police from 1872 until the Department
of Street Cleaning was formed in 1881. Political patronage and
corruption, however, remained an obstacle to effective service
until 1895, when George Waring Jr. was appointed commissioner.
He reorganized the department along military lines, minimized
political influence in employing workers, stressed sweeping by
hand rather than with machines, and dressed street sweepers in
white duck uniforms, earning them the nickname "whitewings."
For most of the 19th century, waste collected from the streets
of New York City was dumped into the ocean. Waring also revolutionized
waste disposal and temporarily suspended ocean dumping. Although
experiments with incineration and the landfilling of garbage had
been conducted as early as 1870, only in 1896 did Waring implement
a system of salvaging solid waste: garbage was boiled down for
greases and fertilizers by a private firm on Barren Island, ash
and street sweepings were used as infill in dumps and low-lying
areas, and rubbish (wood, paper, rags, bottles, and metals) was
reclaimed by scavengers for a fee paid to the city.
Mail Delivery
It is difficult to say exactly when mail delivery to 97 Orchard
Street began. While city free delivery service began in 1863,
it progressed experimentally. According to the National Postal
Museum in Washington, D.C., New York City was among the first
44 northern cities to receive such service, but it is unclear
as to how this progressed in the city itself (i.e., which parts
of the city got the service and when).
In any case, during the 1890s, mail was kept at local post offices
and immigrant newspapers would report who had mail waiting for
them. However, the mailboxes in 97 Orchard Street date from the
early 20th century, perhaps the 1920s, judging from the fact that
they had electric doorbells connected to them, and indicate the
likelihood of regular mail delivery to 97 Orchard Street by at
least the 1920s.
Social History
Ninety-seven Orchard Street was in many ways a classic Lower East
Side tenement and its history mirrors the evolution of the neighborhood.
Until 1925 few adult residents in the building had been born in
the United States. In 1870 most of the tenants were German-born.
In 1900, more than half hailed from Russia. And after 1925, they
came from a variety or eastern and southern European countries.
About half the people living in 97 Orchard street between 1870
and 1890 were Jewish, a higher portion than for the neighborhood
as a whole. Between 1890 and the 1920 virtually all the tenants
were Jewish. But while the earlier tenants had been German Jews,
those after 1890 were mostly from Eastern Europe. This reflected
changes in ethnic composition of the Lower East Side as a whole.
The number of tenants living in 97 Orchard Street increased steadily
over time - from 77 when it was built to 111 in 1901. With the
conversion of the first floor from residential to commercial use
in 1905 (2 less apartments), the tenant population dropped a bit,
though the population density of the building remained the same.
This steady increase in density suggests the building gradually
deteriorated over time. This was reflected in changing occupations
of the residents: from artisans and petit bourgeois in 1870 to
industrial workers by the turn of the century. The occupations
of the residents at the turn of the century also reflected the
prominence of the garment industry in the neighborhood at this
time.
By the early 1930s, only seven families lived at 97 Orchard Street.
Although the building's vacancy rate was slightly higher than
others in the neighborhood, it was nonetheless representative
of overall demographic trends on the Lower East Side. Due in part
to the restrictive immigration legislation of the 1920s, the extension
of mass transportation and the construction of bridges during
the early 20th century, and continued deteriorating living conditions,
the population of the Lower East Side began to decline during
the late 1920s. Between 1927 and 1928, the tenement vacancy rate
averaged around 14%. Just two years later in 1930, the rate had
increased some 7 percent with 22.5% of tenement apartments vacant;
this included approximately 13,369 vacant units, leading one observer
to comment, "Whole buildings are empty of tenants where they
used to be packed like sardines."
On the other hand, the decrease in 97 Orchard Street's tenancy
may be the result of faulty reporting by the census enumerator.
The Baldizzi family, for example, is not listed in the 1930 U.S.
Census, suggesting that more families lived in the building than
were listed in the census.
(Source: James P. Shenton, "Biography of
a Tenement")
See also: Appendix C; Tenements; Lower East Side.
1 Joan Geismar, "Architecture
at 97 Orchard Street." (1999).
2 Joan Geismar, "Architecture at 97 Orchard
Street." (1999).
3 Allen Ingraham, "Privies, Outhouses,
and Goals of Reform," (presentation made for the Lower East
Side Tenment Museum
4Ibid.
5 Ibid.
6 Ibid.
7 Ibid.
8 Ibid.
9 Ibid.
10 Ibid.
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