The Waterbury Democrat., 1934-10-15
In New York
Bv PAUL HARRISON

Greenwich Village, Washington
 Square is settling into twilight of
 undistinguished gentility. Great
 families have sold their homes:
 glamorous Bohemians have moved
 away. Only few patient old trees
 remain as sentinels over the re-
 gion's vanished glory.
 Long before this, however, the
 place had it's ups and downs. once
 1t was forest; then a tobacco plan
 tation. The New York militia
 drilled there, and later the city
 took it over as Potters Field and a place for hanging criminals. In 1888, one John Johnson leased
 the north side of the square,
 where he built a home that still
 stands, After the Civil War it be- came the swankiest section of old New York, the home of Stewards and Rh1nelanders, Roosevelts, Vanderbilts and Winthrops. Later came the literati, and a few prominent artists. Edgar AL len Poe and Henry James lived there. As first families began moving away, writers and painters (who really wrote and painted) took over the old brick and brown stone homes.
 Hallrooms of Fame
 For 45 years Madame Blanchard of France ran her famous board ing house at No. 61 Washington Square; and people were proud to be able to live there. Patti was one of her earliest guests. and so was Stephen Crane, before he ever dreamed out his Red Badge of Courage"
 Theodore Dreiser became
 boarder. Also Robert W. Cham bers, Arthur Somers Roche and James Oppenheim. To Madame Blanchard's Oscar Cesare brought his bride, the daughter of o. Henry. Most of the tenants were amused, and sometimes a little re- sentful of their landlady's lazy son, who stood 6 feet 4 inches, and was called Babe" When he worked he drove a delivery wagon. Then he began monkeying with paints and brushes. In couple of years he was being lionized and was giving exhibitions. That was Emil Blanchard.
 Realty King
 Once again prominent residents began moving away from Wash ington Square. and a few modern apartment buildings went up. The
 latter years have been closely bound up in the corner of Albert Strunsky, who now owns or leases most of the remaining old houses. Strunsky lost one fortune in real estate, and 20 years ago, when he was about 50, doggedly started all over again. Borrowed $100,> bought $40 worth offtalcum powder, some blue bottles and a pushcart. and soon was selling tal- cum powder to practically all east
 side barbers. Within year he had enough money to lease an old tene.
 ment near Washington Square.
 Italian families paying SIS month
 rent were turned out and their apartment redecorated and let to
 the intelligentsia for $120 each. This process continued until ings in the side streets, and event.
 ually all those on the south side of the square. He waxed rich,
 but still is remembered by hun-
 dreds of tenants as a kindly land-
 lord. They say his cellars are
 crammed with paintings and sculp-
 lures and yellowed manuscripts given in lieu of rent. He never
 has sold any of the stuff. and now
 and then artists and writers seek him out in his little basement of-
 flee at No. Al to reclaim creations
 left there years ago.
 Ae
 Strained Relations
 Every Sunday for more than a
 decade the entire tribe of Strunsky
 convened for Sunday dinner. With
 the inclusion of more and more
 relatives. and the arrival of more
 and more little Strunskys, the re-
 unions finally got quite out of hand.
 Papa Strunsky had a disturbing
 hunch one day, and followed it
 with a personal investigation at his
 next big dinner party. as
 He found three young men who
 weren't members of the family at all. One, a sly and hungry poet. had been feasting there for four years, and frequently bringing friends. He generally was supposed to be old Uncle Moe Strunsky's sisters youngest boy Nathan, and the family had grown quite fond of him.