Lost Apartments of the North Shore: Prospect and York

 

238 York Avenue, ca.1940

 

234 York Avenue, ca. 1940

230 York Avenue, ca. 1940

 

I'm not sure I ever noticed this strange building until I bought a house on Prospect Avenue in 2006. After that, I drove by it all the time, curious about its odd look and hoping someone one would fix it up at least a little bit. Around 2010-2011, someone did do a major renovation. The work wasn't fantastic, and the roof over landing isn't attractive, but a building was returned to use. The DOITT map lists 238 York Avenue as being built in 1931, but it appears to be on the 1917 insurance map. Either way, it's a fairly old building that's still standing and occupied today.

 

Scanning the Advance archives, I wasn't able to determine when the two units to the right of the remaining 238 York Avenue, were destroyed. However, the last article referencing the center unit, 234 York, was in 1974 when for the second time in a year one of its tenants was robbed. The last reference to the rightmost building, 230 York, was in 1975 when one its tenants was sentenced to nine months for burglary. For at least a decade preceding 1975, all three units had tenants who had habitual contact with the police.

238 York Avenue, 1989 

The yellow street signs were gone by the time I moved to the area, but this was essentially how the building looked in 2006.

Sanborn Map, amended 1935

238 York Avenue - 2018

Jersey Street Projects Project: Part Five - north side of Richmond Terrace btw York Avenue and Jersey Street

The destruction carried out in the name of urban renewal in order to build the Richmond Terrace housing projects was significant. As you saw last time, not only was a long stretch of Jersey Street and some of the streets between Jersey and Westervelt cleared, but a two blocks of Richmond Terrace's north side were demolished as well.

The Star Theater was a place my grandmother would go regularly in order to get  a free piece of dishware. It was a thing theaters did back then to draw customers in.

If you can't make out the word on the marquee, have no fear, I was able to figure out what movies were playing. The top billed is The Light That Failed, an adaptation of a Kipling novel and starring Ronald Colman. Below it is Kid Nightingale, a musical boxing movie starring John Payne and Jane Wyman. The last picture listed is The Man Who Wouldn't Talk, a mystery starring Lloyd Nolan. The first two were released in late 1939 and the last in January, 1940.

I found an article from the July 30, 1926 Ocean Grove Times listing Mr. and Mrs. J.E. Semons of West New Brighton arriving in Ocean Grove.

In case you can't make it out, the building house a United Cigar store. Apparently, at one time, it was the largest cigar store chain in the country, with 3,000 stores before the Depression.

"Eat Home Cooking" proclaims the lunch room's sign. I'm going to make a guess that the owner's name was Antone Pappas.

The Liberty Grill, a name that came up in the comments on the Facebook posting of one of the Jersey Street Projects Project articles. They had wines, liquor, and beer.

A shack, probably part of the Gypsum Plant.

I was pointed to some interesting reading from the Staten Island Advance from 1959. Borough President Maniscalco discusses the demolition of the above buildings for the extension of the Richmond Terrace Promenade and its widening. It was supposed to have been the same length as the portion east of Westervelt and have a "central mall separating the traffic lanes." Whelp, like with so many projects on Staten Island it never really worked out the way its proponents claimed. That stretch of the Terrace in front of the Jersey Street Projects remains a bottle-neck almost 60 years later.

 Sixty years later and this is what Staten Island has to show for urban renewal.

The Rorengo House

The Home of Domenico Rorengo (according to 1917 maps) - pictured in 1932

Here's a interesting home that once stood at the end of Buchanan Street where it used to intersect with York Avenue. I've meant to get this picture up for some time now but my usual predilection for wasting time let to not doing that.

Recently I received a lengthy and informative e-mail from a reader, Richard M., who grew up in Hamilton Park from the 50s through the 70s. I plan to make as much use of the information he sent me as possible for this and future posts.

Apparently, according to my new information, while the original source of Domenico Rorengo's money is not known, what is known is that he lost it in the market crash of 1929. His family held onto to the property but ultimately lost it in the 40s.

The house in the picture was damaged by fire in the 50s but remained occupied by a neighborhood character known as "the captain" through the 70s. If anyone has anymore information on THAT, feel free to drop me line.



















Today the property is filled with town houses built in the past decade or so. I think perhaps the grade of the present site is the same as that in the picture but beyond that nothing remains.



View Larger Map

York Avenue, New Brighton

A quick display looking south at the east side of York Avenue between E. Buchanan and Carlyle Streets. Once upon a time York Avenue was a good looking working class street running parallel to Jersey Street. There were large homes on the hill to the west and even a few shops and at one point a German Lutheran church in addition to St Stanislaus Kostka Catholic Church.

Today much of York Avenue has clearly seen better days, but this stretch of houses is pretty unchanged from July, 1932.

The Lost Houses of Richmond Terrace in New Brighton

Above: 654 Richmond Terrace - 1932


View Larger Map
654 Richmond Terrace - still vacant


Above and Below: 632 Richmond Terrace at the s/w corner of Franklin Avenue - 1932




View Larger Map
632 Richmond Terrace today - still vacant


The Ward House, known also as "the Cement House" - c.1900, it was demolished between then and 1917.



View Larger Map

Where the Cement House once stood - paved over



526 Richmond Terrace - the Vredenburg House (though spelled without the terminal H they were probably related to me and mine) - 1932