House of the Day: 615 Eastern Parkway

Awesome story!

This is a house I know from growing up in Crown Heights during the 1950’s and early 1960’s.

Because the people who lived there were in their mid to late 50’s and childless, I’m quite sure they’re dead and writing about them shouldn’t embarrass anybody.

They were Dr. X and his brother and sister. Dr. X was a prominent orthodontist to whom parents sent their kids from throughout Brooklyn and the suburbs. He was an “artist,” according to the ladies who’d come to his teas and open houses and who entrusted him with the most important treatment in their kids’ lives: getting their teeth “fixed.”

Dr. X looked like George Brent, the 1930’s movie star who often played opposite Bette Davis, which made him attractive to the matrons, who fawned over his skills and dropped his name at dinner parties. (Part of their pride: they could afford the $5,000 fee, a big sum at the time, in my case, paid by my grandfather who covered a lot of our bohemian household’s expenses.)

Dr. X was also German and spoke with an accent. His name wan’t Jewish and his history shadowy, causing Dad to speculate about a nasty past (although he probably did so to tease me). Part of the ominous image: Dr. X’s enormous German Shepherd, always kept on the end his brother’s leash. Brother X walked through the house without ever saying a word, always behind the dog, never leaving the property, as far as I could tell (and I visited weekly for two years). The two Xs seemed to occupy opposite sides of the looking glass, one vain and social — the “artist” — the other mute and shabby — the caretaker.

Rounding out the picture was Sister X, whom I glimpsed only rarely. My child’s mind turned her into the Wife of Frankenstein, for no other reason than the household’s foreignness. She could have been the kindest, gentlest person in the world but because she rounded out the mansion’s Germanic trio was assigned that role.

The house has a center hall. What was originally the parlor was used as the waiting room and what was the dining room was the treatment room. (Anyone buying this number should run an environmental check; doctors back then were much more casual about hazardous materials than they are today.) Everything was perfectly maintained and intact, except the first floor was painted an odd combination of yellow and light green, in keeping with the hospital look favored by doctors at the time. The parlor, at the corner of Eastern Parkway and New York Avenue, did get a beautiful light, and during Dr. X’s teas turned into a swirl of Jackie Kennedy look-a-likes, parting only at Dr. X’s entrance.

The Xs lived upstairs, which no one outside the family got to see. Ringing the bell at the heavy iron door, I watched Brother X through the plate glass as he descended the stairs behind the dog (whose name was never shared with me) and walked across the hall to open the door. Once approved for admission, a friendly nurse welcomed me. She generally never opened the door. This was Brother X’s only visible responsibility, which deepened the family’s mystery. Who would ring the bell except kids and mothers? The FBI? The Mossad? And how would the German Shepherd act if his leash were tugged a certain way?

Dr. X was the only person I ever saw leave the house. He kept a big Cadillac in the drive. Occasionally as I walked by on the way to Prospect Park or the Brooklyn Museum, I’d see him pull slowly into the service road and head off (to secret assignations I could only imagine) with a deliberate look on his face and a military officer’s straight back. Outside the house he wore a Chesterfield coat and bowler hat, as precise in his appearance as he was in his work.

Years later, visiting Crown Heights, I saw the mansion. Empty. I’m sure there are many thousands of Brooklyn and Long Island kids who passed through its doors, wondering about the lives lived upstairs (especially in the “sun room”) and now smiling through middle age with Dr. R’s handiwork.

Nostalgic on Park Avenue

I’ve been walking down the street past this place for years, as well. Wow, finally for sale. The owner has been renovating for years, but not much seemed to be getting done. I can relate to that, so I can hardly fault him. I always wanted to see what it looked like, as it was a corner house and the side entrance would dictage a different room set up. It also has that sunporch/sleeping room on the side. There are a couple of junked cars in the yard along with a ton of stuff, and this is going to be someone’s project of a lifetime. The yard also has a couple of very fruitful trees, an apple, a pear, and maybe a peach tree, that drop tons of unused fruit every year. I hope someone cherishes them, as well as the rest of the property.

Sorry, but $1.2 million is too much for anything in CHN. Not even if it was already spectacularly renovated. It just won’t happen, unless some well heeled Lubabvitcher buys it, as it is very near the temple and headquarters. It will be landmarked, and is calendared now, so it won’t be able to be torn down, thank goodness.

I know the family that owns this house and a lot of other properties in Brooklyn. Serious hoarding issues going on – very sad. Don’t know what’s prompting them to sell now.

I’ve often walked by the house with dreams of what it could be. From the outside, it’s obvious that the owner has not been able to keep it maintained for many many years. I can just imagine what the inside is like.
Yes, there may be a corner premium, but the price is nowhere near reality.