O.O.. McIntyre
Wilmington Daily News/September 17, 1920
NEW YORK. Sept. 16—Those mammoth apartment houses for the ultra-rich now springing rapidly into prominence along Park Avenue have the austere dignity of the Sphinx. They are great piles of stone covering entire blocks and each is a city within itself.
Barred gates at which stand a brace of lackeys caparisoned in gold give the effect of a moated feudal castle. There are all sorts of convenient electrical devices. When the head of the house approaches the gates in a limousine a lackey touches a button on a switchboard.
This notifies the butler or valet that the master has arrived and the bath, slippers and perhaps a Scotch and soda must be prepared. Tradesmen are never permitted to enter the sacred portals. There is a receiving room where they may leave their goods.
Inside the courtyard is a park for the children, all attended by nurses and governesses in blue and white uniforms. Each floor has its own swimming pool and private gymnasium. So well protected are the residents from the outside world, that at the moment they enter the gates they are isolated from all save those of their ilk.
Apartment are all large—from 15 to 30 rooms. Rents range from $20,000 a year upward. Servants have their quarters in the sub-cellar and are permitted to leave only by one entrance and in this way an effort is made to prevent thefts.
Each building has several restaurants catering only to the residents of the building and their friends. The hoi-polloi Is not admitted. To ensure this the entrance ways are from the inside. The surrounding streets reflect this atmosphere of haughtiness. One may see the shop girl and factory workers on Fifth avenue—but rarely on Park.
It is told of a newly rich who lived in a huge apartment on the East Side for several months—submitting to the painful regulation that his occupancy imposed. One night his family went to the opera and when they returned he was at the front gate in his stocking feet, smoking a pipe, and talking through the bars to a night-street cleaner.
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Many amusing quips have been fashioned as the result of the McGraw incident at the Lambs. But the best comes from a Harlem hash-house waiter who went to the cubbyhole and yelled back to the kitchen:
“One McGraw!”
After a short wait, a lamb stew appeared on the window ledge.
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One may have great wealth in New York and still lead an existence of acute loneliness. Not so long ago Arthur Brigg, a rich young theatrical producer, committed suicide at his home on Long Island. He was in good health, but he felt that most of his friends were those who were attracted to him because he was a good spender. He had often complained that he was buying friendship with money. He was a liberal giver to those in less fortunate circumstances but he felt that among them he did not have a true friend.
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Silk shirts are now a drug in the New York haberdashery market. Scores of shops are having $5 silk shirt sales. The most exclusive haberdasher on Fifth avenue is retailing silk shirts specially tailored for $20. Three months ago the same shirt sold for $33. The high-priced tailors are to come down in their prices for men’s clothes next week, it is announced.
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