Ghosts of the Moeller House

Hotels play host not only to guests, but also to stories, scenes, and the occasional mystery.
The Moeller House, which graced the corner of Main and Scott Streets for nearly forty years, boasted a full complement of each.

 

Recently I stumbled across a somewhat ghostly original photograph of the Moeller (or at least its ground-floor restaurant) and, as these things happen, became instantly obsessed. Here’s some of what I found about the place. 

Erected in 1878 by German immigrant Robert Moeller, the hotel (at 95 Main) began life as cheap lodgings for sailors and other traveling types stopping at Buffalo. But within a decade, thanks to the tireless efforts of Mr. Moeller and his wife Johanna, the Moeller had garnered a reputation as one of Buffalo’s finest hotels. By the late 1890s, the hotel was so successful (and so valuable) that it was paying some $12,000 a year in taxes to the city—more than $500,000 today.

[That may seem like a lot, and it is, but recall that if a proposed hotel occupancy tax of 5% goes into effect in 2025 (on top of the current 8.75% sales tax on rooms) Buffalo’s hotel tax rate will become the third highest rate in the nation. And that’s on top of what the proprietor already pays in real estate tax and a plethora of other taxes. You can do the math—it adds up fast. Also recall that until 1913 there was no permanent Federal income tax, and even then it was a whopping 3% on income over $150,000 (in today’s dollars).]

The hotel’s restaurant (shown below with its colors recovered—not ‘colorized’—see my first post on BR) was a major attraction, too. A nickel for lunch (about $2.50 today) was cheap even then, and as you can see the Moellers had on offer the most prized delicacy of the 19th century table: oysters dredged up from the Hudson River and the oyster reefs around Ellis and City Islands. It may come as a surprise to learn that New York City waters were the top-producing oyster grounds in the country until 1927, when the last oyster bed was closed—the victim of a century of overharvesting and appalling water conditions. (I wouldn’t eat a Hudson River oyster today on a dare, although there are efforts to bring back the humble but vital mollusk.)

Let’s look into a few of the things that took place just above the lunch room in our photo.

  • In the early 1890s, world-famous performers appearing at the nearby Academy or Star Theatres always stayed at the Moeller House, often making it a required part of their contracts—like the ‘bowl of blue M&Ms’ reputed to be part of celebrity ‘riders’ today.
  • The Lame People’s Social Club, an early and uplifting organization for people with disabilities, was formed in the Moeller House in 1892. (From the Buffalo Enquirer of October 20th of that year. Ernst Moeller was Robert’s brother.)
  • Meyer Simon, a petty crook, amassed a quantity of stolen brass in his lodgings at the Moeller. Mr. Simon was apparently both nimble and strong, because he lugged the metal across several rooftops and then down through the Moeller’s skylights and to his room. He was caught red-handed with the hot brass when police detectives discovered his footprints in the snow on the Moeller House roof.
  • In 1894, two ‘illusionists’ (magicians) partook of Mr. Moeller’s ‘fine food and lodging’ for two full weeks, and then paid him with a bad check for $35 (about $1,500 today). Their sleight of hand was rewarded with free room and board in the Erie County Jail.
  • In 1902, notorious and internationally known pickpocket ‘Skinny Yorky’ died of consumption (tuberculosis) at the Moeller.
  • In 1903, a sailor by the name of Henry Weyn decided it was a good idea to light his cigarette from a bedside gas jet in his room. In attempting to aim the jet of flame at his smoke, he inadvertently caught the bedclothes, curtains, and himself on fire. Hotel staff succeeded in extinguishing the blaze before it spread, although Mr. Weyn perished.

As you can probably guess by the above, as time went by the trend was not the Moeller House’s friend. By 1910 or so, Lower Main Street was beginning to look threadbare and forlorn. With the construction of new docks at the foot of Main, though, developers had a reason to buy up the shabby structures of as much as a century before and start over. And so the old gave way to the new.

The Moeller House was one of the last to go. Even though it really wasn’t terribly old, it was worn out and ramshackle from hard use, and it finally succumbed to old age in November 1913. Soon after, Robert Moeller (Johanna had passed away several years earlier) left Buffalo for the then-tiny town of Cucamonga, California, where he retired to an orange plantation. But a lifetime of hard work had worn him out, too, and a little more than a year later he was dead.

 

His body was brought back home to Forest Lawn Cemetery, where Mr. and Mrs. Moeller now rest together in Section 25—just across from the historic Chapel. I hope you will greet them there as old friends—such popular hoteliers must have been good folks all around.

Today, the former site of the Moeller House is occupied by a Tim Horton’s restaurant. If you drop by, maybe raise a cup of coffee in Robert and Johanna Moeller’s honor.

You can find more articles like this here on Robert’s blog and also on his weekly column on Buffalo Rising.