For years, the allure of the unknown McKittrick Hotel at 530 West 27th Street has captivated urban explorers and history buffs alike. Whispers of its opulent past and mysterious closure have only deepened its mystique. As a location scout, gaining access to this legendary New York City address had become a personal quest, a desire to peel back the layers of time and uncover the secrets within its walls. What I discovered inside was more captivating than I could have ever imagined.
Stepping back in time, the McKittrick Hotel, erected in 1939, was envisioned as a haven of sophisticated indulgence. It aimed to offer a more intimate and exclusive experience compared to the grand, sprawling establishments of its era, such as the Waldorf-Astoria or the Plaza Hotel. This boutique approach, focusing on personalized service and lavish details, quickly resonated with New York City’s elite.
The McKittrick Hotel: A Brief Reign of Glamour
Before long, the McKittrick Hotel became the epicenter of New York’s high society. Securing a reservation was a coveted prize, often requiring bookings years in advance. Even the legendary Alfred Hitchcock, a notable early guest, was so enchanted by his stay that he immortalized the hotel by naming a location in his iconic film Vertigo after the McKittrick. This association further cemented the hotel’s status as a cultural touchstone.
However, the McKittrick Hotel’s initial success was tragically short-lived. Just days after its grand opening, the outbreak of World War II cast a dark shadow over its future. Reservations evaporated, prices plummeted, and the once-thriving hotel found itself struggling to stay afloat. Burdened by insurmountable debt and unable to meet even basic operational costs, the McKittrick, alongside numerous other New York City hotels, was forced to close its doors and be sold, marking a premature end to its promising beginning.
Decades of Obscurity: The McKittrick Hotel After WWII
Unearthing the subsequent history of 530 West 27th Street proves to be a challenging endeavor. Scattered mentions in archived New York Times articles hint at sporadic attempts to revive the McKittrick as a hotel throughout the 1950s. However, these efforts apparently never materialized, leaving the building in a state of limbo.
A Google Books search reveals fleeting glimpses of the address in print advertisements from the 1960s and 1970s, suggesting a possible transition to commercial or office space. Notably, a taxidermy shop once occupied “Suite 3F,” indicating a diverse range of tenants. Yet, after 1978, even these faint traces disappear, plunging the McKittrick Hotel into near-total obscurity.
A Secret Invitation into the Forgotten Hotel
For as long as I’ve been involved in location scouting, the building at 530 West 27th Street has remained an enigma – padlocked, shrouded in scaffolding, and seemingly inaccessible. Upon learning of its past as the McKittrick Hotel a couple of years prior, my curiosity intensified. I attempted to gain entry, hoping to discover remnants of its former grandeur, but even a phone number proved elusive.
I resigned myself to the idea that the McKittrick Hotel, much like the mysterious Hart Island, would remain one of those tantalizingly cool New York City locations forever beyond my reach. Then, unexpectedly, last Friday, an anonymous letter arrived. The sender, identifying herself as someone with access to the property and a follower of my website, offered an unbelievable proposition: a clandestine tour inside to witness something “incredible.” Intrigued and thrilled, I eagerly accepted, meeting her later that afternoon.
Stepping Inside: A Time Capsule of 1939
Crossing the threshold, I found myself in an entrance hallway that immediately defied expectations. The décor was a striking departure from modern aesthetics, hinting at a bygone era.
The walls were adorned with wallpaper that appeared to be decades old, its patterns whispering tales of the past.
Dusty, lamp-lit paintings lined the hallway, casting long shadows and enhancing the sense of stepping into a time capsule. As I began to question my guide about the origins of these artifacts, she gently hushed me, urging patience.
Rounding a corner, the breathtaking vista of the original McKittrick lobby unfolded before me.
Words momentarily failed me. Apart from subtle updates like modern lighting and exit signs, the lobby stood virtually unchanged from its 1939 debut. It was an astonishingly preserved tableau of history, frozen in time for over seven decades.
Original Furnishings and Echoes of the Past
I was informed that even the furniture and decorations, extending to the billiard balls in the adjacent room, were original to the hotel. The sheer improbability of such meticulous preservation sparked a sense of awe and wonder.
The explanation, as it turned out, was as remarkable as the discovery itself. The McKittrick Hotel had never been sold. Despite facing crippling debt, the property remained within the McKittrick family, passed down through generations. While sections were leased as office space during the 1960s and 1970s – evidenced by remnants of a taxidermist’s workshop on an upper floor – these ventures proved insufficient to warrant a sale. Instead, the family patiently worked to retire the debt, clinging to the hope of one day resurrecting the McKittrick Hotel as a hospitality destination. After decades of anticipation, that vision appears to be on the cusp of realization.
Three original phone booths stood as silent sentinels in the lobby. Remarkably, the lines were still functional, believed to be among the city’s oldest active exchanges. And yes, each booth housed a vintage rotary payphone.
Behind the check-in desk, the original key rack remained intact, a testament to a bygone era of hospitality.
Each room in the McKittrick Hotel was, and reportedly will continue to be upon reopening, accessed with a skeleton key, a charming anachronism in the modern age.
The check-in desk itself featured the original ledger and lamps, alongside an antique call bell.
Even the hotel’s original telephone, incredibly, remained operational after all these years.
A simple notepad rested on the counter, a subtle detail that amplified the authentic vintage ambiance.
The lobby boasted a beautiful handmade rug, acquired by a McKittrick family member in Turkey during the early 1940s for a mere $8 – a testament to a different era of commerce.
A chandelier, once illuminated by candles, had been discreetly electrified, a subtle modernization amidst the otherwise untouched surroundings.
An antique radio, once the source of 1940s broadcasts for hotel guests – including the somber news of the war’s commencement – stood as a poignant reminder of the past. My guide, apologetic about the dust accumulating on the floor, explained that the McKittrick was still undergoing extensive cleaning.
Much of the furniture was draped in protective sheets, safeguarding it during the ongoing restoration. In a corner of the lobby, a piano stood shrouded, awaiting its rediscovery.
A side table, adorned with ashtrays, offered a glimpse into the social norms of the 1940s – a stark contrast to today’s stringent NYC smoking regulations.
An intriguing nook revealed what appeared to be package slots, remnants of a bygone system of mail and delivery.
Another antique ashtray, standing alone, served as a silent testament to the passage of time.
A lounge table, bearing three dusty shot glasses, sparked curiosity about their origins and the stories they might hold.
Letters lay scattered, their sealed envelopes beckoning to be opened, whispering untold secrets.
My impulsive desire to delve into these personal correspondences was quickly curtailed by my guide, who firmly forbade it. It was at this juncture that I sensed a shift in her demeanor, a growing apprehension about my presence.
Deeper into the Shadows: Parlor and Dining Room
From the lobby, we ventured into a small, dimly lit parlor, its atmosphere heavy with a palpable sense of history.
My gaze was immediately drawn to a stunning wall decoration crafted from peacock feathers, an exquisite detail confirmed to be original to the hotel.
A table in the parlor held more intriguing artifacts, hinting at the lives once lived within these walls.
Next, my guide led me to the smaller of the hotel’s two dining rooms.
Tables were meticulously set, as if anticipating guests for an evening service, complete with monogrammed napkins.
On the dining room wall, a peculiar element caught my attention.
Crosses formed from spoons and knives, embedded in mounds of salt, presented a puzzling display. Their significance remained unclear – perhaps a family symbol or a cryptic artistic expression.
Nearby, a powder room offered another intimate glimpse into the hotel’s preserved past.
An antique hairbrush, still containing strands of hair, lay on the vanity, a poignant reminder of former guests.
More brushes and grooming items populated the powder room, each object whispering stories of lives interrupted.
Strangely, sheet music rested nearby, adding an unexpected layer to the room’s narrative.
Unsettling Discoveries and Abrupt Departure
The longer I explored the McKittrick Hotel, the more a sense of unease crept in. Behind the front desk, a bizarre sculpture stood in a corner, its presence unsettling.
My guide attributed these oddities to vagrants who had reportedly inhabited the hotel after its closure.
Yet, a conflicting theory suggested that these peculiar icons might have been present even during the hotel’s operational period, adding a layer of historical mystery.
Nestled in a corner, a taxidermied bird seemed to peer out, perhaps a relic from the taxidermist’s shop once located upstairs.
There was much more to explore, but my guide’s mounting anxiety became palpable. She clearly wished to conclude the tour. My pleas to see even one bedroom were met with firm refusal, deemed “strictly off limits” for the time being.
Just then, a distinct thud reverberated from the bedrooms above us, followed by a chilling slithering, dragging sound. Despite my guide’s repeated assurances that the building was empty, a growing sense of unease washed over me. Before I could voice my questions, she ushered me towards the front door, bringing our clandestine visit to an abrupt end.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this glimpse into the McKittrick Hotel. Given the circumstances of my visit, I suspect further photographic expeditions will be restricted for the foreseeable future. These images may have to suffice until the padlock is finally removed for good, and the McKittrick Hotel at 530 West 27th Street, New York, NY, reclaims its place in the city’s vibrant tapestry.
Intriguingly, subsequent research has unearthed rumors of a murder within the McKittrick Hotel during its brief operational period. Could this, rather than the war, have been the true catalyst for its sudden closure? The mystery of the McKittrick Hotel continues to deepen.
-SCOUT
P.S. Still puzzled? Delve deeper into the story here…
