The Griffith Piano Company Building

The city of Newark was a much different place 100 years ago. With both a booming industrial force and a bustling commercial downtown, the city was growing in fine fashion. Newark was a perfect place for the Griffith Piano Company to open their new factory and headquarters.

The limestone and yellow brick tower was constructed adjacent to the iconic Hahne Company Building in 1927. The site was already home to two buildings outgrown by the Griffith company. 

Griffith's new headquarters was a beautiful gothic edifice designed by city architect George Elwood Jones. The fourteen story tower featured an elegant facade clad in polychromatic terra-cotta tilework on the upper floors.

Behind the front doors was a handsome two story lobby. The walls on the first floor are marble clad, and the second floor contains a wraparound mezzanine. The ceiling inside the space was a gorgeous plaster design like one might expect to see inside a bank or post office. To call the space overwhelming would be an understatement.

Also on the second floor was the Griffith Recital Hall. The 50ftx75ft space had a seating capacity of 200, which made the room an ideal space to demonstrate new models of Griffith Pianos to potential buyers. The room had a hardwood floor and mirror clad walls. The ceiling had a beautiful plaster design and recessed stained glass light fixtures. The beautiful decoration seemed to come at you from every angle, making it truly one of the most remarkable office buildings in Newark at the tume. The finished structure topped out at 210 feet tall, making it one of the tallest in the city at the time.

At its time Griffith was one of the most successful piano companies in the country. Some of the greatest pianists of the time reportedly used Griffith pianos, including Sergei Rachmaninoff. This was largely in part to the pioneering efforts of Mrs. Lena Donaldson Griffith, who also went by Mrs. Parker O. Griffith. A firm believer in equitable resource access, she started the Griffith Music Foundation. 

The goal of the foundation was to draw some of the greatest musical artists of the time to Newark for performances that could be attended by people of every creed, color and class. In 1938 the foundation took over operations of the Mosque Theater, which would go on to become the Newark Symphony Hall.

Tragically, Parker O. Griffith passed away at Orange Memorial Hospiral on March 12th, 1960. Mrs. Parker passed away the following year. Griffith Piano Company continued to operate for just over a decade, declining until eventually going bankrupt in 1973. The city of Newark was experiencing a recession at the time, therefore the only tenant that could be found for the property was a discount dress shop which functioned inside the lobby. 

The tower was subjected to a decade of neglect, which decimated the interior of the structure. Despite that the building was snapped up by NYC real estate developer Sol Gillman in 1983 for $500,000. The purchase was so significant the New York Times ran an article about the purchase. To the city of Newark it was symbolic of a potential downtown renaissance. However, aside from being listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1984 nothing became of Gillmans $2 million plans to restore the building. Newarks economic resurgence wouldn't be coming any time soon.

The building wouldn't change hands for another 19 years, but in 2003 the Cogswell Reality group entered into an agreement to purchase the tower. Unfortunately when the group toured their perspective purchase, they saw the significant structural degradation the interior of the building had faced, and they rescinded their offer for the property. 

Another thirteen years later the building once again changed hands, this time under the stewardship of the Berger Group. The group had already taken on and completed several large scale projects in the city, including the restoration of the adjacent Hahne building. Even the Bergers couldn't make it work, so they sold it to a newly formed LLC not affiliated with any established group. 

Somehow this new team managed to find a plan that seemed viable, and in 2019 the building underwent a  The Covid 19 pandemic took its toll on the building, causing the construction to last longer than expected. The newly reborn building, dubbed "The Griffith" opened in 2025 with a mix of retail and residential.

Another win for the city of Newark. Thanks for learning with me. 

19 Marie Major Dr

The home at 19 Marie Major Dr was built on a three acre lot in 1974.

Well manicured lanscaping surrounded the home itself. The owners also installed a pool and tennis courts on the edge of the property.

In the decades since the home was built Alpine became home to some of the richest people in the state. By 2016 the property was assessed to be valued at $6 million. 

When I was growing up my father always had a skill of delivering some sort of complex, practical knowledge with a single sentence.  One of his classics was the phrase "something is only worth what somebody is willing to pay for it. 19 Marie Major is a great example. The property was sold in June of 2019 for just $3 Million.

The home sat vacant for a number of years. During this time a new trend developed in the Urban Exploring community, particularly on Tik Tok. It was the era of the "clout mansion".

A "clout mansion" is any large home, usually a fairly recent real estate listing, which has some distinctive feature that drives the algorithm wild. It may be an interior pool, a famous former resident, or in some cases even just the list price. People who seek attention visit these places and immediately share them with other people who had broken into similar mansions, creating this weird trend in the moment. 

I had been putting off visiting these mansions even though a couple were in NJ. I did eventually check them out though. 19 Marie Major was known as the "Basketball Court Mansion" because the last owner installed a single hoop inside on the second floor.

The home was finally torn down in 2025, and a new home built on the same spot. Hopefully the new owners dont disturb the property too much, as it really is a fantastic piece of land. 

First Presbyterian Church of Atlantic City

As someone who grew up in North Jersey, Atlantic City might as well have been Las Vegas. None of my travels as a kid ever took me past it, so I didnt see it in person until I was grown. They were both known to have a gruff reputation, corrupt history, and gambling. Despite that, the city actually holds several really distinctive civic buildings. The subject of this article is one such space that has unfortunately been lost. 

Source: TFPNJ Postcard Archive

The original First Presbyterian Church complex was built on the same site between 1856 and 1857. The main building was a handsome carpenter gothic structure with a tall, distinctive spire above it's bell tower. It also had a detached secondary chapel along S. Presbyterian Avenue. Corrupt crime boss and republican politician Nucky Johnson married in the old building in 1906. Johnson is ficticously portrayed by Steve Buschemi in the hit HBO series "Boardwalk Empire". 

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The church was stripped back to its frame and almost entirely rebuilt in 1909. This was likely done due to the fire hazard the original church building posed. Seneca Red sandstone replaced the old wooden clapboard. The bell tower was moved from the center of the building to the right corner, while the enormous spire was never rebuilt. 

The interior floor plan was dramatically changed as well to accomidate the growing congregation. Seating in the nave was reoriented to face the left wall, which had been opened up and rebuilt to serve as the pulpit.  This allowed the a much more significant balcony to be constructed, nearly doubling the capacity of the sanctuary. Three gorgeous windows were purchased from Tiffany Studios and installed behind the choir loft. 

Atlantic City experienced a significant population decline in the decades after WWII. Eventually the First Presbyterian congregation had become so small they didn't need such a large building anymore. Victory Deliverence Church moved into the space in 1989, making very few changes.

A charity food program known as Sister Jean's Kitchen moved into the building in 1997. Sister Jean was a former chef at several of the large casinos along the shore. One night a decade prior she saw a man digging through the trash for some food. She decided to take the man to a nearby pizzeria and get him something substantial instead. She invited the man to her house the next day for a proper home-cooked meal. This selfless act eventually grew into one of the most substantial charity meal programs in the history of Atlantic City. 

Sister Jean Webster passed away in 2011. The kitchen continued on in her honor, although it wouldnt be long before the program experienced another setback. 

Hurricane Sandy devastated the First Presbyterian building just a year later, forcing the kitchen out. Victory Deliverence came up with a plan to renovate the space, but it never came to fruition, and by 2018 the building was officially vacant. 

The building continued to languish over the years. The Tiffany stained glass was removed from the choir loft, and a number of pews were smashed up and discarded. The doors and windows were replaced by steel VPS panels to prevent further break ins. By 2024, plans were approved to have a cannabis dispensary replace the old church building. 

Demolition began in 2025. Usually thats the end of the story, but this one has a pretty wild twist. I mentioned earlier that the exterior was clad with Seneca Red Sandstone. That wasn't just a filler detail. The geological formation that produces that specific stone is part of a thin network that spans from northern Connecticut to southern North Carolina. The largest band streches from northern Virginia to the southern tip of New York, right across New Jersey. This band produced the stone for our church, as well as several prominent buildings in our nation's capital. Perhaps most notably was the original building of the Smithsonian Museum, known as "The Castle". The quarry that produced the Smithsonian's stone had been out of production for over a century, so they thought they were going to have to make an unflattering compromise duringtheir ongoing renovation. A member of the design team happened to be from Atlantic City thiigh, and knew of the old First Presbyterian Church. They brought a spalled piece of the museum to the old church and held it up; it was a near-perfect match. 

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It took several weeks to pry off all the stone, but the team got it done. The stone was loaded onto trucks and hauled down to the museum. The rest of the structure was torn down, leaving the lot bare for the first time in 168 years. It won't be for long though. A new dispensary means that lot will be on the tax rolls for that same period. City leaders have to be excited about that. 

Thanks for learning with me.

Collingswood Presbyterian Church

Collingswood is a small, quaint suburb of Camden founded on 1888. Despite being mostly farmland at the time, the township experienced rapid population growth around the turn of the century. These new residents had a diverse range of religious beliefs, and the building stock of the town reflects that. One such congregation was the Presbyterian church, founded in Collingswood in 1903. 

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The congregation first met in a building elsewhere in the town. It wasn't long before they outgrew that space, so a new church was planned at the corner of Fern & Maple. 

The new church was completed in 1929. It featured a large worship space with a full wraparound balcony as well as a school building attached to the south side of the building. 

The congregation used the space until 2023, when it was announced they were leaving their historic home. They sold the structure to a developer, who immediately submitted plans to the town to convert the church into twenty five apartments.

The pre-school which used the school building finally left the building in June of 2024. By that time some preliminary work had already been done in the main church. The submitted plans show that the exterior of the building will be relatively unchanged, with most of the stained glass windows remaining in place. 

By 2025 construction was well underway. I'm grateful I was able to take a brief walk around the space before the interior was split up. And honestly, more housing is always a good thing. All things considered, this is a pretty good win for the town.

Holmes-Tallman House

New Jersey has always been packed with people, but that density was largely relegated to the cities and surrounding areas in its early history. However, the last few decades have seen an unprecedented level of residential and commercial development on once quiet farmlands. These changes have come at a tremendous ecological cost, and constant blows to our stock of historic buildings. One recent example comes to us from the small town of Jamesburg. 

The large home at the corner of Rhode Hall (formerly Browns Corners) and Cranbury-South River roads was built in 1860 by a man named Francis Holmes. Holmes purchased the property from Aaron Gulick, whose family are some of the earliest colonizers of New Jersey. 

The home was a gorgeous three story Carpenter Italianate presence. It boasted a corbel-studded wraparound porch on the first floor and was crowned by a large square cupula. From the moment it was finished, it stood as one of the finest examples of the architecture style in New Jersey. 

Francis Holmes sold the property with the home on it back to the Gulick family in 1869. James Gulick sold the property again just a year later, this time to a man named Jacob Tallman.

The construction of the NJ Turnpike in 1951 changed the landscape of Jamesburg forever. What was once a small, out of the way farm town was now the site of one of the busiest traffic corridors in the nation. The beautiful old home continued to defy time thanks to the meticulous care of the Tallman family. 

In 1979 the home was nominated to be on the National Register of Historic Places. It was an easy decision for the committee; the home was listed on the register that same year. 

The Tallman family loved and maintained the home for well over 100 years. During that time, the Turnpike continued to widen to accomidate the booming population it served. It didn't dramatically change things much in the small town of Jamesburg until 1991. That's when exit 8a was finished. The following decades saw massive warehouse and residential development. The population increased by roughly 150% between 1980 and 2000.

By the 2020's the lovely home had fallen into severe disrepair. I would drive past and look at the home whenever I was in the area, slowly watching it fall apart. One day I noticed the back door sitting open, so of course I had to pop inside. I didn't have my camera with me, just my cell phone and a light panel. The house was in remarkable shape inside. It seemed like the Tallman's took as much care to preserve the interior as possible. 

I shut the door behind me and vowed to return as soon as possible to document it property. I ended up driving right past the building on a productive morning of exploring, so I parked out back and walked through the still-open back door. What I found inside was devastating. The entire interior of the home had been ripped apart. This was beyond just scrapping metal; they sawed through the beautiful pine floors, ripped apart the fireplace mantels, and stole the entire wraparound staircase railing. The home had essentially been demolished inside. 

The home will inevitably be demolished since it is now "too far gone" to save. Demolition by neglect claims another one.