This summer, a “For Sale” sign appeared in the front courtyard of 211 Berkeley Place. While the four-story house may look like many other brownstones on the block, it occupies a unique place in the modern history of Park Slope. This house helped launch the turnaround of our neighborhood from one in decline to the vibrant community we know today.
My wife and I first learned about 211 Berkeley Place (between Seventh and Eighth Avenues) in 1966, when we read about it in The New York Times. The house, which according to the article had been vacant for several years, was purchased for $15,000 by the Brooklyn Union Gas Company (today part of National Grid). What the article did not mention was that the company purchased 211 Berkeley Place mainly to help solve its own business problem.
At that time, many residential and commercial gas customers were moving out of New York City, often leaving empty buildings behind. As the company couldn’t dig up its pipes and join the exodus to the suburbs, its only hope for growth was to encourage economic development and increased gas consumption in its service area. This led to its decision to show how dilapidated structures could be transformed into up-to-date residential and commercial structures that used a wide range of gas appliances. The brownstone on Berkeley Place became the first of its “Cinderella Projects.”
At the time the gas company purchased 211 Berkeley Place, Park Slope seemed to be in an irreversible decline. Fifth Avenue was known not for its restaurants as it is today but for its drug dealers. A bar bereft of customers could be found on almost every block on Seventh Avenue. Many of the original one-family row houses that had been converted into rooming houses to serve Navy Yard workers during World War II had few tenants. Crime was perceived to be a growing problem. People were beginning to move to the suburbs, and an increasing number of houses in Park Slope were being abandoned.
After acquiring 211 Berkeley Place, Brooklyn Union evicted the resident pigeons and rodents, and transformed the brownstone into two handsome duplex apartments. While taking care to preserve many of the brownstone’s Victorian details, the company installed heating and air-conditioning systems, grills, patio heaters, exterior entrance lights, chandeliers, fireplaces, ovens, and burners — all fueled by gas, of course — in both apartments. The Times article also mentioned that the Park Slope Betterment Committee would be conducting a walking tour of the neighborhood. After taking this tour, my wife and I decided to buy a house in Park Slope.
Evelyn and Everett Ortner, Joe Ferris, and a few other like-minded individuals established the Park Slope Betterment Committee to preserve their historic neighborhood. They realized that unless people began to purchase, renovate, and move into houses in Park Slope, its decline would be impossible to reverse. In order to attract people to the neighborhood, the committee began to conduct walking tours that not only introduced people to the community but also showed them houses that were for sale, had been recently purchased, or were being renovated. The tours drew attention to Park Slope’s confluence of attractions: handsome historic row houses on attractive tree-lined streets; spacious homes that could be purchased and renovated at a reasonable cost; proximity to Brooklyn’s principal cultural attractions; access to several subway lines for a quick and inexpensive commute to Manhattan; a welcoming group of homeowners who were new to the neighborhood; and the opportunity to participate in an enticing adventure.
Even with these advantages, there were many obstacles to renovating a house in Park Slope in the 1960s and 1970s. Our parents and friends thought we were crazy for buying an old dilapidated house in a declining neighborhood. Park Slope was redlined, which meant very few financial institutions were willing to provide mortgages and homeowners insurance. Most of the houses were in need of a great deal of work — and few of us realized how difficult renovations would be.
We had to deal with lead plumbing and electric wiring that had been installed when Edison was alive. Many homes still had their original inefficient coal-burning heating systems that had been converted to burn gas. There were layers and layers of lead based paint, carcinogenic and flammable paint stripping products, and other materials such as joint compound that contained asbestos. Nonetheless, for those wanting homes of their own, houses priced from $15,000 to $35,000 seemed such a bargain that purchasing and renovating a Park Slope home appeared to be well worth the risk.
In 1974, after extensive research by the Ortners, the city’s Landmarks Preservation Commission designated about one-quarter of Park Slope a historic district. Today, we do not have to deal with abandoned and neglected houses very often. However, we now find that inappropriate, often shoddily built new buildings and out-of-keeping renovations are appearing in nonlandmarked blocks in our community. This is why the Park Slope Civic Council has made expanding the historic district’s boundaries a top priority.
Thanks to the work of the Council’s Historic District Expansion Committee, Phase 1 of this effort — encompassing more than 600 buildings in the South Slope — is currently being considered by the LPC to be included in an expanded historic district. The Committee is also about to begin work on Phase 2, which will extend protection to another 600 buildings in the North Slope. Over time, additional phases will extend the historic district so that it will protect many other blocks in Park Slope.
And 211 Berkeley Place, after sheltering the same two families for four decades, will soon become the home of a new generation of residents. The Park Slope story continues.
More information on the Civic Council’s Historic District Expansion Committee is available at www.parkslopeciviccouncil.org/historic-district.
from the September 2010 Civic News