Read Part 1 and Part 3 of this story.

To many of us, our homes, whether owned or rented, are a source of mystery. Who built my building, and when? Who lived there? Did anything interesting happen there? The first post on this topic outlined some of the on-line sources that are available to anyone who wishes to take the time to explore these mysteries. I’m probably not going to reveal any new mystery source or guide to research that hasn’t been printed somewhere before, but I’m going to share some of the tricks and frustrations that come along with this journey. This article pertains specifically to Brooklyn, but many of these sources are common for New York City.

OK, you’ve gone through the main on-line resources: Historic Designation Reports from the Landmarks Preservation Commission, the Real Estate and Builders Guide, courtesy of the Avery Library at Columbia, The Brooklyn Eagle, and the Photograph Collection, courtesy of the Brooklyn Public Library, The New York Times, Ancestry.com, and Google. You may have found something, and feel you want more, or you didn’t find anything at all. What’s next? Well, you need to hit the pavement, and go to the primary sources in person.

First Stop: The Department of Buildings

The DOB is located on the 8th floor of the Municipal Building at 210 Joralemon Street, corner of Court. Going to the DOB can be a Kafkaesque journey into the heart of city bureaucracy at its finest. If you’ve never experienced what it’s like to be in a crowded room with people scurrying about who don’t appear to speak the same language you do, and don’t really care if you know how to use the services in the room, just go down to the DOB some morning.

IMPORTANT: BRING IDENTIFICATION, LIKE A DRIVER’S LICENSE. My tips for this place are simple: You have a right to get the information they’ve got, it’s public record. If you fill out the forms correctly, stand in the right lines, and speak nicely to those who have the power to make, or ruin your day, you will at least get whatever info they’ve got in their folders. Assuming the folder exists and they can find it. Let me explain further.

When you get off the elevator, the first thing you need to do is go into the small room at the end of the hall and tell the person behind the desk why you are there. (“I’m doing research on my house, and want to get the folder for my address.”) They will give you a number, like at the DMV, and a form to fill out. Haul butt down the hall to the main room of the DOB.

Most of those busy looking people running around in the public areas, with blueprints and thick folders, and cellphones attached to their faces, work for expediting companies. 90% of their clients are developers, big and small, with all kinds of projects, new construction and rehabs. They swarm around like they are all involved in the building of the next Ark, always on deadlines, but they are harmless. The more experienced of them have been doing this for years, and know everyone behind the counter like co-workers, which they may as well be. (Those are the ones you hire, when you need one, but I digress.) They cause the room to be in a state of chaos, and a lot of of them can be pushy, but they generally do not affect you at all because they are trying to get permits, you are trying to get a folder with information on your building. Different windows.

All of the information the DOB has is filed by block and lot numbers. If you don’t know your Block and Lot, get it on line before you come to the DOB. You can get it from ACRIS, or Property Shark. The DOB has computers that connect to their database, but these computers are often busy, so do yourself a favor and get it beforehand. Fill out the form, and look for your number to come up on the wall. If they’ve passed your number, just go up to the counter where they take the forms and tell the attendant that they’ve called your number. I‘ve been in there quite a bit, but I can’t remember the window number. As you walk in, you have the waiting room to your right. There is a corridor on the opposite wall that goes off to the left. The window you need is right as you turn the corner to walk down that corridor.

I’ve always been lucky, and gotten nice people who haven’t given me grief about going down into the pits of the basement to look up dusty old files. They do have people there who feel that that is not in their job description. Don’t take that for an answer. If your file hasn’t been pulled in the last millennium, it’s going to take some time for someone to get it. They really are in the basement. Sometimes they aren’t even in the building (“It’s in the warehouse.”) and you’ll have to come back the next day. Assuming the folder is in the building, several things could happen here. Best scenario: they have the file; you get it, and strike gold: blueprints, work orders, legal changes over the years, BINGO! Worst case scenario: they can’t find anything, or they give you the wrong file. Their filing is abysmal. Note: If they give you a folder, you have to give them your ID for the duration of the time you have the folder. This is ostensibly to prevent people from walking off with folders.

Somewhere in a town somewhere, there are building records that have been lovingly filed by people who cared about these things. Each file is properly labeled, the contents meticulously updated, and when the file is requested and removed, it is returned to its place, in alphabetical and/or numerical order. THAT PLACE IS NOT BROOKLYN! I honestly don’t think they EVER kept great records. Over the last 100 years, the DOB has had at least two “fires” where they lost thousands of records. That is why many homes clearly built anywhere from the 1850’s on up, are listed with arbitrary dates like 1899 and 1930. Those are the dates of the great “fires”. These dates are passed on to real estate agents, Property Shark and other databases, and are often quoted as the holy writ. Aside from making real estate agents look silly, these dates can often throw insurance companies, architects, and contractors off. It really isn’t helping anyone. Your classic Italianate brownstone was NOT built in 1930, no matter what the folder says.

Some tips:

1) If you live in a row of houses that were built together, sometimes the plans for the whole group are in the “king house” folder; the first or largest house in the group. Get the block/lots for the whole group and ask them to pull them all. I found mine that way. The blueprints have all four houses in my group on the same page. It’s very cool.

2) If you have something worth copying, they have copy machines. If it’s blueprints, they can do those as well, although it’s expensive. You’ll have to take the plans to a different window; they’ll give you a ticket. You have to go to the cashier, pay, and then give the receipt to the copy department. Last time I got blueprints copied, it was $8 a page. It’s probably more now.

3) When you give your folder back, don’t forget to get your ID back.

4) Go early, or solidly in the day. Do not go much after 3. They close at 4:30, but it gets crazy there at the end of the day, and the closer it is to 4 pm, the less likely it will be to get someone to dig through the basement for your dusty file. They’ll tell you to come back the next day. Been there, done that. It’s hugely frustrating.

I didn’t mean to spend the whole article on the DOB, but ideally, they are the best place to find information about your building, and so much information can be gained if you are lucky. You don’t have to own the building to get this info, it’s public information. I was pretty lucky in my research for my own house. I found a full set of blueprints, signed by John Young, the architect, in 1899. It was in my neighbor’s folder. I also found letters from the city to an early homeowner, citing her for violations, for running an illegal boardinghouse in 1925. There was a basement plan when the furnace was enclosed. When a plumber put the sprinkler system in, in the 1950’s, he filed plans and floor plans for that, showing the placement of all of the sprinkler heads and pipes. Not bad.

Also in the Municipal Building:

I also went downstairs to the ground floor to the Real Property Records room. On first glance, this room is the biggest waste of space in a public building you’d ever see. But that would be deceiving. This room is a repository of research gold. In all of those rows of library-esque tables with the thousands of ledger books underneath are records of every property sale and mortgage in Brooklyn, from at least the mid-1800’s, if not earlier. These are also arranged by block and lot. Someone behind the counter can take you to the right book, or point you in the right direction. Although nowhere as crowded as the DOB room upstairs, this huge room usually has expeditors and title search people tracking down the same thing you are looking for, the trail of ownership of a specific piece of property. Each book is divided by blocks, and the sales of the property have been recorded, for many late 19th century buildings, from day one. One set of books is sales, the other set is mortgages. There were plenty of both in the last 150 years.

I enjoy looking through these books. The penmanship of the early entries is often impeccable, and you can just picture some careful clerk scribing by inadequate light, the sales of Brooklyn’s growing list of properties. As the years progress, the writing is less careful, and by the modern era, it’s in ballpoint pen. Ah, progress. Like the Real Estate Record and Building Guide discussed last time, the early entries are not listed by address, but in increments of feet away from the closest cross street. It’s helpful to figure that out beforehand, or at least copy down any entry you feel may be you, and check on a map later. Often a map is drawn at the beginning of the block, as a guide. As we get into the 20th century, the county switched to a numbered address entry, and from there, it’s easy, just a matter of going through all of the pages. The books go up to the 1970’s, when they switched to microfilm and digitization. Any sales and mortgages after that are available on line on ACRIS or Property Shark. There are computers available in this room that can give you the ACRIS records.

On a practical level, all of this information really needs to be digitized, but when they do, the last vestige of a century and a half system of municipal record keeping will be unavailable to the common man, and these books will end up in a warehouse somewhere, probably with water dripping on them, or fall victim to another “fire”. That will free the space up for their long awaited Apple Store, but we will have lost something, I think.

Next time: The rest of our feet-on-the-ground search – the Libraries, Historical Societies, Museums and other archives. Helpful books and publications, blogs and specialized websites. The conclusion of Researching your Brooklyn Property, on Thursday. GMAP

Photo: Bridge and Tunnel Club


What's Your Take? Leave a Comment

  1. many folders are missing because architects and expediters have them out. They do not have to return them the same day, and many are borrowed for years. Hopefully there is a record somewhere of who has what file, but that may be a little optimistic.

    • You know the biggest offender? The worst scofflaw? Absolutely flagrant? Lafever, I think, is his name. He has files out going back to, oh, the 1840s or something. But they can’t catch him because the drivers license he left expired in 1851. A shame. It’s a pity because they gave Gamaliel King a hell of a time because of it.

      c

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