Ready for New York city life
Thursday, 8 November 2007
Joyce Cohen
IF John Berglund was going to take a job in New York, he and his family most certainly were going to live in the centre of the city.
They had already lived in the suburbs and the country. City living was "part of the adventure for us at this time of our life," said Mr. Berglund, 55, the Salvation Army's director of emergency disaster services for Greater New York.
But when he transferred to the city with his wife, Victoria Holloway, 53, and their son, Jax, 13, they had no idea what to expect. "I knew we needed a two-bedroom, but I didn't understand they were such a rare commodity," he said. "I wanted to look and get a feel for apartments, and wasn't prepared to rent one right on the spot."
His priority was to be in proximity to several locations, including the Salvation Army's divisional headquarters on West 14th Street, the Red Cross centre on far West 49th Street and the city's Office of Emergency Management in downtown Brooklyn.
Mr. Berglund is from Chautauqua County in western New York. Ms. Holloway is a farmer's daughter from southern Idaho.
They met while working for the American Stage Theatre Company in St. Petersburg, Fla., and later moved to Phoenix. Ms. Holloway taught stage directing at Arizona State University, while Mr. Berglund worked in nonprofit management, eventually joining the Salvation Army.
When Mr. Berglund was transferred to New York during the summer, the couple thought of living in Gramercy Park, Murray Hill or Midtown Manhattan -- for safety reasons. "That area has altitude," said Ms. Holloway. "It is not going to flood in case of a hurricane."
Two years ago, Ms. Holloway, who has multiple autoimmune diseases, left her job for health reasons. The Salvation Army transferred Mr. Berglund to Alexandria, Va. They also bought a home for their retirement, near Ms. Holloway's relatives, in rural Hagerman Valley, Idaho. Their four-bedroom house is rented out.
They preferred a low floor, too. "In case of fire, I want to catapult myself right out of the window and land in the arms of that handsome fireman who is there to save me," she said. Their general rule is to live on the third floor or below, which is within easy reach of a fire ladder.
they hunted, they were given temporary room and board at the Markle Residence near Salvation Army headquarters in Greenwich Village, where women can rent dormlike rooms. (A single room is $375 a week.) Mr. Berglund was not to go above the third floor. Jax stayed in Idaho with his grandparents. A daughter, Majken, 22, is a student at Arizona State University.
They had two weeks to find an apartment, or Jax would join them in the women's residence, "which is not something I was looking forward to," Mr. Berglund said.
Their budget was $3,000 a month for a two-bedroom rental. They saw, most of all, one-bedroom apartments converted to two. This meant that bedrooms "weren't big enough for Jax's shoes, let alone his two guitars and his amp," Ms. Holloway said.
Agents would declare "this is a two-bedroom," Mr. Berglund said. "You would say, 'Where is the second bedroom?' And they would say, 'Oh, well, you put up a wall here.' We saw lots of creative convertibles."
And $3,000 a month -- an amount that was inching ever higher -- seemed a breathtaking sum. "I thought for that amount of money we could have several choices," said Ms. Holloway, who teaches directing part-time at the State University of New York at Purchase. "And the hype is that you have to rent it now. There is never a way to go back and look at it again."
A friend of theirs often walked by the office of the New York Private Realty Group on First Avenue. He stopped in one day, taking the business card of Mark Ritchken, who is from South Africa.
Ms. Holloway called "and was of course taken with his accent," she said.
In their price range, the kind of two-bedroom they wanted "doesn't really exist," Mr. Ritchken said. "Normally I would say I can't help you with that, but she sounded so desperate."
When they met, "I said, 'Give me a list of what you've already seen, so I don't waste anybody's time,'" Mr. Ritchken said. He took them to a one-bedroom that could be converted to two in a rental building on Third Avenue and 29th Street. They had already been there. "This wasn't supposed to happen," Mr. Ritchken said. "I think they were so bamboozled by this whole hunt."
In a condominium building on Sutton Place near 59th Street, they saw their first real two-bedroom. Apparently it was rented to someone who had just been transferred out of town. The condo owner, eager to rerent it, dropped the price to $3,500 from $3,900.
Mr. Berglund was still holding out for "something cheaper, bigger, better," Ms. Holloway said. "My husband loves to keep investigating. If he looks at a row of cans in a grocery store, he can't just pick the first one."
Mr. Berglund wanted to continue to the other places that Mr. Ritchken had lined up. "They thought if I was showing them something so fabulous, maybe there was something more fabulous," Mr. Ritchken said. He knew there wasn't.
In a lovely one-bedroom at Sutton Place North on East 61st Street, the alcove could be partitioned off for their son. "The building is very sleek," Ms. Holloway said, "but who could live behind a screen? Not when you're 13."
Mr. Berglund would have been glad to hunt indefinitely, but his wife threatened to return to Idaho, leaving him to decide on his own.
"Vic had an aesthetic she wanted to meet," he said. "I would be cranking the numbers, saying: If we do this, this is what we can't do; if this is the priority, this is the trade-off."
Finally, last month, they signed a lease on the Sutton Place condominium, paying a broker's fee of $6,300. They gave Jax the master bedroom and, instead of retrieving their furniture from Idaho, furnished their place with items from the Salvation Army thrift store on West 46th Street.
Their seventh-floor apartment has a "magnificent view, if you are into bridges," Ms. Holloway said. But it's not too high for a fire ladder; some can reach the eighth floor.
First Avenue, her urban thoroughfare, is an exciting place where "everybody has exotic dogs."
The family "fits well in the apartment," Mr. Berglund said. "This is what we wanted -- all of the positive, all of the negative, all of the learning curve. It's just very expensive. We don't eat out a lot."
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Newyorktimes.com
IF John Berglund was going to take a job in New York, he and his family most certainly were going to live in the centre of the city.
They had already lived in the suburbs and the country. City living was "part of the adventure for us at this time of our life," said Mr. Berglund, 55, the Salvation Army's director of emergency disaster services for Greater New York.
But when he transferred to the city with his wife, Victoria Holloway, 53, and their son, Jax, 13, they had no idea what to expect. "I knew we needed a two-bedroom, but I didn't understand they were such a rare commodity," he said. "I wanted to look and get a feel for apartments, and wasn't prepared to rent one right on the spot."
His priority was to be in proximity to several locations, including the Salvation Army's divisional headquarters on West 14th Street, the Red Cross centre on far West 49th Street and the city's Office of Emergency Management in downtown Brooklyn.
Mr. Berglund is from Chautauqua County in western New York. Ms. Holloway is a farmer's daughter from southern Idaho.
They met while working for the American Stage Theatre Company in St. Petersburg, Fla., and later moved to Phoenix. Ms. Holloway taught stage directing at Arizona State University, while Mr. Berglund worked in nonprofit management, eventually joining the Salvation Army.
When Mr. Berglund was transferred to New York during the summer, the couple thought of living in Gramercy Park, Murray Hill or Midtown Manhattan -- for safety reasons. "That area has altitude," said Ms. Holloway. "It is not going to flood in case of a hurricane."
Two years ago, Ms. Holloway, who has multiple autoimmune diseases, left her job for health reasons. The Salvation Army transferred Mr. Berglund to Alexandria, Va. They also bought a home for their retirement, near Ms. Holloway's relatives, in rural Hagerman Valley, Idaho. Their four-bedroom house is rented out.
They preferred a low floor, too. "In case of fire, I want to catapult myself right out of the window and land in the arms of that handsome fireman who is there to save me," she said. Their general rule is to live on the third floor or below, which is within easy reach of a fire ladder.
they hunted, they were given temporary room and board at the Markle Residence near Salvation Army headquarters in Greenwich Village, where women can rent dormlike rooms. (A single room is $375 a week.) Mr. Berglund was not to go above the third floor. Jax stayed in Idaho with his grandparents. A daughter, Majken, 22, is a student at Arizona State University.
They had two weeks to find an apartment, or Jax would join them in the women's residence, "which is not something I was looking forward to," Mr. Berglund said.
Their budget was $3,000 a month for a two-bedroom rental. They saw, most of all, one-bedroom apartments converted to two. This meant that bedrooms "weren't big enough for Jax's shoes, let alone his two guitars and his amp," Ms. Holloway said.
Agents would declare "this is a two-bedroom," Mr. Berglund said. "You would say, 'Where is the second bedroom?' And they would say, 'Oh, well, you put up a wall here.' We saw lots of creative convertibles."
And $3,000 a month -- an amount that was inching ever higher -- seemed a breathtaking sum. "I thought for that amount of money we could have several choices," said Ms. Holloway, who teaches directing part-time at the State University of New York at Purchase. "And the hype is that you have to rent it now. There is never a way to go back and look at it again."
A friend of theirs often walked by the office of the New York Private Realty Group on First Avenue. He stopped in one day, taking the business card of Mark Ritchken, who is from South Africa.
Ms. Holloway called "and was of course taken with his accent," she said.
In their price range, the kind of two-bedroom they wanted "doesn't really exist," Mr. Ritchken said. "Normally I would say I can't help you with that, but she sounded so desperate."
When they met, "I said, 'Give me a list of what you've already seen, so I don't waste anybody's time,'" Mr. Ritchken said. He took them to a one-bedroom that could be converted to two in a rental building on Third Avenue and 29th Street. They had already been there. "This wasn't supposed to happen," Mr. Ritchken said. "I think they were so bamboozled by this whole hunt."
In a condominium building on Sutton Place near 59th Street, they saw their first real two-bedroom. Apparently it was rented to someone who had just been transferred out of town. The condo owner, eager to rerent it, dropped the price to $3,500 from $3,900.
Mr. Berglund was still holding out for "something cheaper, bigger, better," Ms. Holloway said. "My husband loves to keep investigating. If he looks at a row of cans in a grocery store, he can't just pick the first one."
Mr. Berglund wanted to continue to the other places that Mr. Ritchken had lined up. "They thought if I was showing them something so fabulous, maybe there was something more fabulous," Mr. Ritchken said. He knew there wasn't.
In a lovely one-bedroom at Sutton Place North on East 61st Street, the alcove could be partitioned off for their son. "The building is very sleek," Ms. Holloway said, "but who could live behind a screen? Not when you're 13."
Mr. Berglund would have been glad to hunt indefinitely, but his wife threatened to return to Idaho, leaving him to decide on his own.
"Vic had an aesthetic she wanted to meet," he said. "I would be cranking the numbers, saying: If we do this, this is what we can't do; if this is the priority, this is the trade-off."
Finally, last month, they signed a lease on the Sutton Place condominium, paying a broker's fee of $6,300. They gave Jax the master bedroom and, instead of retrieving their furniture from Idaho, furnished their place with items from the Salvation Army thrift store on West 46th Street.
Their seventh-floor apartment has a "magnificent view, if you are into bridges," Ms. Holloway said. But it's not too high for a fire ladder; some can reach the eighth floor.
First Avenue, her urban thoroughfare, is an exciting place where "everybody has exotic dogs."
The family "fits well in the apartment," Mr. Berglund said. "This is what we wanted -- all of the positive, all of the negative, all of the learning curve. It's just very expensive. We don't eat out a lot."
...................................
Newyorktimes.com