Records About Records: Discovering the History of DORIS Records Management

Recently, during an ongoing effort in the Municipal Library to reorganize the collection, librarians turned up a set of records that attest to New York City’s long history of responsible and innovative records management. A binder collecting the 1957 minutes of the Coordinating Committee for the Records Management Program of the City of New York shows how the work we do today at DORIS is remarkably similar to the efforts of the past—both in its challenges and its success.

Coordinating Committee for the Records Management Program of the City of New York, Minutes, 1957. NYC Municipal Library.

Records management is the practice of maintaining control of records throughout their lifecycle—ensuring that that records are accessible to the people who need to use them, as well as determining when it is appropriate to destroy the material or to permanently store it for historical preservation and public access. When researchers today examine their family history, examine photographs that document the evolution of a neighborhood, or review the correspondence of elected officials from the past to understand the policies of today, these materials are available because someone took care to ensure they were properly managed during their active life. Today, the Records Management division of DORIS oversees citywide records management policy and practices, training Records Management Officers at each agency to comply with city standards to ensure the records born today (many of which are digital) remain available for future researchers.  

Coordinating Committee for the Records Management Program of the City of New York, Minutes, 1957, page 1. NYC Municipal Library.

The committee records we discovered begin on October 23, 1957. At that time, NYC Records Management history followed on the foundational efforts of Rebecca Rankin, who served as Director of the Municipal Library from 1920–1952. Rankin championed the development of the Municipal Archives and Records Center, as well as the creation of a records management manual and records manager training course. The 1957 Committee was chaired by James Katsaros, then Director of the Municipal Archives, who had worked under Rankin for many years. And as the records clearly show, Katsaros carried on her legacy of high standards for records management training and citywide coordination.

Mayor Vincent Impellitteri presents Chief Librarian Rebecca Rankin with the scroll of merit upon her retirement, City Hall, June 25, 1952. Official Mayor Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The minutes convey that a main concern of the committee was what information to share with records management officers at their regular citywide meetings:

“Mr. Brady thought that we should ask specific questions from the Records Officers, as for instance, when was the last time an agency disposed records; has a records inventory been prepared as yet by the agency,… The Chairman brought up to date the procedure of disposal of obsolete and useless records as contained in the manual, and had copies prepared for distribution to all the Records Officers. Copies of the Corporation Council’s opinion on the disposal of duplicate copies of records were made for distribution to the Records Officers.”

When reading through these minutes, it is striking how extremely similar the practices and concerns of the Committee are to DORIS Records Management today. We hold regular quarterly meetings for records officers and share updated information on the exact same topics of disposal, records scheduling, and how to handle duplicates or obsolete records. Even though our records may now be emails and CAD files instead of typed memoranda or hand drawn plans, the work of safeguarding city records remains the same.

Mayor Vincent Impellitteri bestows merit awards to City agency Record Officers, City Hall, June 24, 1952. Official Mayor Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The minutes even reveal a similarity in remote attendance, a common occurrence with today’s virtual meetings on Teams and Zoom. At the start of the October 23, 1957 meeting, a committee member telephones in that he is ill. The committee assured him “we would take care of his suggestions and he was kept informed of the progress of the committee’s work by phone during and after the meeting.” It may not be the real-time video call of today, but this instance attests to the dedication and ingenuity of this committee to get the work done even when a member of the group is not physically present, something city employees experienced en-masse during the COVID-19 pandemic. 

Coordinating Committee for the Records Management Program of the City of New York, Minutes, 1957. NYC Municipal Library.

The 1957 binder of the Coordinating Committee for the Records Management Program also demonstrates the extent of their coordination efforts. In addition to general meetings for records managers, they also convened record officer sub-committees focused on specific government functions such as Court and Arrest Records, Education and Cultural Records, Engineering Records, General Government Records, Health and Social Services Records and Property Records. The committee also collaborated with the Office of Civil Defense to identify and secure the City’s vital records and was especially motivated to do so because the Civil Defense was providing funding for this effort.

DORIS Records Management is proud to carry on the legacy that began with Rebecca Rankin—meeting the complex and fascinating challenge of managing the records of New York City government. It is clear there is a direct throughline from the efforts of the past to our work today. We hope to discover more documents like these 1957 committee minutes and trace the history of NYC Records Management in more detail.

It Happened Here: 400 Years of NYC Government Records, 1636-2025

On Friday, July 3, 2025, the Department of Records and Information Services hosted an exhibit of unique items from four centuries of NYC history. Selected from the vast collections of the Municipal Archives and Library, the display kicks-off the It Happened Here weekend. Dating from 1636 to the present, the exhibit featured iconic documents, photographs, and ephemera that illustrated how the City evolved civil rights and made a new home for a population from around the world.

Petition, John Peter Zenger to Common Council, 1735. Common Council Records, NYC Municipal Archives.

From the 17th century, the display exhibited the first official edict of the colonial Director-General, Peter Stuyvesant, dated 1647. The edict banned the sale of alcohol every day after 8 p.m. and before 2 p.m. on Sundays, and enforced strict penalties for drawing a knife or sword in anger. The exhibit curators also included the original 1654 purchase of “Conyne Eylandt” (Coney Island) as a representative example of the many interactions between colonists and native peoples.

The 1734 trial of Peter Zenger is a signature event of the 18th century featured in the show. The exhibit displayed Zenger’s petition to the Common Council requesting repairs to his jail cell at the City Hall in 1735. He had been imprisoned for publishing articles critical of the colonial government. His acquittal by the jury established a powerful early precedent for freedom of the press in America.

Pamphlet, 1898, Mayor Robert A. Van Wyck Records, NYC Municipal Archives.

Another highlight of the exhibit representing the 17th century was the “List of Schollars in the African Free Schooll,” from 1795-1796. Founded in 1787 by the New York Manumission Society, the African Free School educated the children of enslaved and formerly enslaved people.

VJ Day, Times Square, August 14, 1945. Department of Street Cleaning Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

For the 19th century, the exhibit highlighted items from three of the greatest public works achievements of the era—the Croton Aqueduct, Central Park, and the Brooklyn Bridge. An iconic photograph of workers on the Aqueduct in 1889 showed the scale of the project that brought abundant fresh water to the growing city. The display included an original drawing of the Central Park, designed as a democratic space offering all New Yorkers access to nature and recreation. The Brooklyn Bridge drawing in the exhibit illustrated how the suspension bridge—the longest in the world at that time—connected the two growing cities of Manhattan and Brooklyn. 

AIDS Pamphlet, Vertical Files, NYC Municipal Library.

Thank you card, Mayor Bill de Blasio Records, NYC Municipal Archives.

The exhibit curators had an abundance of material to represent NYC municipal government in the 20th Century. Selected documents and photographs illustrated how the City welcomed waves of newcomers from Europe and the South, successfully consolidated Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island and the Bronx into the Greater City of New York, revolutionized transportation with construction of the subway system, and coped with public health emergencies, the Great Depression, two World Wars, and a fiscal crisis.

Moving to the 21st Century, the exhibit reminded visitors of more recent events such as the attack on the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, Hurricane Sandy in 2012, implementation of Universal Pre-K by Mayor de Blasio in 2014, the inaugural NYC Women’s March in 2017, and the parade for the Women’s World Cup in 2019, and finally, the COVID-19 pandemic in 2021.

What’s this? Discovered in the Municipal Archives, the origin of this document, its subject, or purpose is not known. If can help us identify this item, please do!

The Case Against Bruno Richard Hauptmann

On April 3, 1936, Bruno Richard Hauptmann was put to death in the New Jersey State Prison at Trenton for the kidnapping and murder of Charles Augustus Lindbergh, Jr., the 20-month-old son of Col. Charles Lindbergh and his wife Anne Morrow Lindbergh. It was the end of one of the most sensational investigations in American history, except the case never really ended. Like other famous murders, such as the JFK assassination, it birthed a whole industry of conspiracy theorists who think that the police and FBI got it wrong. Even today, they are working to reopen the case and test evidence for DNA samples, and they have been the subject of credulous articles in publications as diverse as The New York Times and The Free Press.

Mugshot of Bruno Richard Hauptmann, September 21, 1934. NYPD Bertillon #128221, image courtesy of Wikipedia Commons.

These articles are generally written based on information in the case files held by the New Jersey State Police. What is mostly overlooked, however, is that a large portion of the investigation took place in New York City, and that those records are in the Municipal Archives—the Bronx District Attorney closed case files and NYPD crime-scene photographs.

Reception Banquet Program for Charles Lindbergh, June 14, 1927. Mayor James J. Walker Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

After his 1927 solo flight from Long Island to Paris, Col. Charles Lindbergh won both fame and fortune. The $25,000 in prize money for the feat (which he shared with his backers), plus fees as a consultant and spokesperson for the now booming aviation industry made him a very wealthy man. By 1932, he had married the daughter of a diplomat, and they were living in Hopewell, New Jersey with their first child, a son.

Most sources agree on the essential facts of the abduction. On the night of March 1, 1932, the family nurse, Betty Gow, alerted Col. Lindbergh that she could not find his son. Lindbergh discovered that the child was missing from his crib and found a ransom note. The note demanded $50,000 for the safe return of the boy (about $1 million in 2025 currency). Soon after, he and the family butler noticed a hand-made ladder leaning against the second-floor bedroom window.

Almost from the start, the crime scene was mis-managed as the household and neighbors scoured the grounds looking for clues, perhaps trampling usable evidence. Then there was the press. They quickly descended on the property and the subsequent headlines whipped the public into a frenzy. President Herbert Hoover authorized the U.S. Department of Justice, Division of Investigation (DOI), precursor to the FBI, to investigate. Sleuths, both real and amateur, volunteered their services and offered opinions to the press. A huckster claiming to have inside knowledge of the kidnapping managed to talk heiress Evelyn McLean out of a sizable sum of money.

The first ransom note contained a mysterious symbol to identify future communications. On March 7th the Lindberghs received a second ransom note with the symbol, demanding $70,000. A third note was sent to Lindbergh’s lawyer. Both notes were postmarked from Brooklyn.

Photostat copy of a note passed to Dr. Condon during ransom negotiations. Lindbergh baby kidnapping closed case files, Bronx County District Attorney, NYC Municipal Archives.

Here the story shifts to New York. The third note asked Fordham University football coach Dr. John F. Condon to act as an intermediary to the exchange. A New York personality, Condon inserted himself into the case by offering his own reward for the safe return of the child. Condon received a note that instructed him to go to Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx. Once there, a man arrived and introduced himself as “John” saying he was one of the kidnappers. Condon demanded proof the baby was alive and the man, who spoke with an accent, but kept to the shadows, said he would send the baby’s outfit by mail. After receiving the outfit, identified by Col. Lindbergh as belonging to his son, Condon again met with “John” and gave him a package containing $50,000 in small bills.

The currency had been carefully prepared. All the serial numbers had been recorded, and a portion of the bills were “Gold Certificates,” which were about to be discontinued as America left the gold standard. After this exchange on April 2, nothing further was heard from the kidnappers. On May 12, a truck driver pulled off the road near the Lindbergh house and went into the woods to urinate. There he found the remains of a toddler—it was the Lindbergh baby. And then, the case went cold.

Federal investigators distributed booklets with the ransom serial numbers to banks across the country. As they knew would happen, May 1, 1933, was the deadline for people to exchange gold certificates. A few days prior, a man exchanged almost $3,000, which turned out to be from the ransom money. He had given a false address at the bank, but other bills had been turning up in small amounts. The investigators noticed that they were spent along the Lexington Avenue subway line from the Bronx to the German neighborhood of Yorkville. Finally, on September 18, 1934, a bank teller spotted another gold note from the ransom. It was part of a deposit from a gas station and on it was written a number. The gas station attendant had found it odd that the driver paid with a gold note and had recorded the license-plate number of the car. The police now had a new suspect, the car’s owner, Richard Hauptmann of 1279 East 222nd Street in the Bronx. They quickly discovered that his real name was Bruno Hauptmann and that he had entered the United States illegally some years prior after a lengthy criminal record in Germany.

Police “mug shot” blotter book, 1934. Bruno Richard Hauptman [sic], B#128221, September 21, 1934. NYPD photo unit collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Lindbergh baby kidnapping closed case files, Bronx County District Attorney, NYC Municipal Archives.

Original NYPD negative sleeve, Lindbergh case.

The New York Police arrested Hauptmann on September 19, 1934, and obtained a warrant to search his property. The evidence they found was quite damning, including $14,590 in ransom money stashed in his garage, along with an unlicensed handgun. In his kitchen pantry, next to his phone, they found a scribbled phone number for John Condon. The investigators also took particular interest in wood boards from his garage that seemed to match wood from the ladder used in the kidnapping.

A Bronx Grand Jury indicted Hauptmann on September 26, 1934, for the crime of extortion. On October 19th, his case was transferred to New Jersey for a trial on the charges of kidnapping and murder. The Bronx District Attorney formally dismissed their case against Hauptmann in April 1936, citing his execution by the State of New Jersey.

NYPD_17576o: Premises at 1279 E 222nd St. where part of Lindbergh ransom money was found, September 21, 1934. Det. Dunn and Murphy, alien squad detectives on case. NYPD photo unit collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

New York Daily News, September 27, 1934. Lindbergh baby kidnapping closed case files, Bronx County District Attorney, NYC Municipal Archives.

NYPD_17576i: Garage at 1279 E 222nd St. where part of Lindbergh ransom money was found, September 21, 1934. Det. Dunn and Murphy, alien squad detectives on case. NYPD photo unit collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

NYPD_17576k: Garage at 1279 E 222nd St. where part of Lindbergh ransom money was found, September 21, 1934. Det. Dunn and Murphy, alien squad detectives on case. Police took samples of wood from the Hauptmann’s garage to match against the wood of the ladder used in the kidnapping. NYPD photo unit collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Telegram to Bronx DA, Samuel J. Foley from Federal investigators, September 24, 1934. Lindbergh baby kidnapping closed case files, Bronx County District Attorney, NYC Municipal Archives.

Much of the evidence in the case has been picked over and re-evaluated, and many books have been written, but the records in Municipal Archives provide a fascinating look into the investigation. The Archives received the papers in 1979 from the office of then-Queens County District Attorney Mario Merola. As the finding aid notes, “By the time they reached a staff processor in 1981, they had been rearranged, not entirely successfully, as part of a student intern project, and only seven (7) of the original envelopes remained to give some idea of the original order. They were marked as follows: ‘Lindbergh Old File S and B’; ‘Hauptmann D.J. Reports’; ‘Hauptmann 684-1934 Miscellaneous’; ‘Hauptmann Receipts’; ‘Hauptmann Reports, Letters, etc. Important’; ‘Statements Sept. 1934’; and ‘Translation of Letters Specimens of Writings.’”

NYPD_17576-1a: Piece of wood showing holes, Lindbergh case. Photographer: Gilligan #228. NYPD photo unit collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

NYPD_17576-1c: Revolver, Lindbergh case. Photographer: Gilligan #228. Police said they found this small revolver hidden in a piece of wood along with rolled up bills that were from the ransom money. NYPD photo unit collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

New York Daily News, September 27, 1934. Lindbergh baby kidnapping closed case files, Bronx County District Attorney, NYC Municipal Archives.

In 2019, City archivists Alex Hilton and Nathalie Belkin re-processed the papers and wrote a finding aid that provides a comprehensive list of materials in the series. While the files do contain a few photostat copies, most of the documents that might be considered “copies” are certified statements from other agencies attesting to Bruno Hauptmann or his associates and are revealing of the detectives’ investigative process. Of particular interest is the amount of material related to one of the mystery men in the case, Isidor Fisch. An associate of Hauptmann, Fisch returned to Germany and died of tuberculosis before Hauptmann’s arrest. Tellingly, he applied for a passport the day the dead baby was discovered.

Statement of Bruno Hauptmann taken at Bronx DA’s office, September 26, 1934. Lindbergh baby kidnapping closed case files, Bronx County District Attorney, NYC Municipal Archives.

Note from detective or DA: “Why did you hide the money if you did not know what it was? In cans, in boards… Did you know it was Lindbergh money?” Lindbergh baby kidnapping closed case files, Bronx County District Attorney, NYC Municipal Archives.

Most of the official investigators agreed that that Hauptmann had accomplices, but there has been disagreement as to whether the mysterious “John” who met with Dr. Condon was Hauptmann himself. Witnesses at the Cemetery said he resembled Hauptmann, but it could have been Fisch, or another friend of Hauptmann’s who went by the name of John. Under interrogation, Hauptmann stated he was holding the ransom money for Fisch but could not offer a good explanation for why he had hidden it. As the detective scribbled in his notes, “Why did you hide the money if you did not know what it was?” Hauptmann claimed he and Fisch were in business together and produced correspondence to prove a fiscal relationship. Investigators believed these may have been part of scheme to launder the ransom money. They concluded that the money found at Hauptmann’s premises, plus the currency traced through Hauptmann’s records and investments over the prior three years totaled just over $50,000.

NYPD_17576b: Kitchen at 1279 E 222nd St. where part of Lindbergh ransom money was found, September 21, 1934. Det. Dunn and Murphy, alien squad detectives on case. NYPD photo unit collection, NYC Municipal Archives. Investigators said they found Dr. Condon’s phone number scribbled on the door of the pantry.

Memo regarding doctor who treated Hauptmann for a leg injury in 1933. Lindbergh baby kidnapping closed case files, Bronx County District Attorney, NYC Municipal Archives.

Another interesting document in the collection is an affidavit from a doctor stating that Hauptmann had been treated in his office for an old leg injury consistent with a fall from a ladder. There is also Hauptmann’s employer stating that he had quit his job the day after the ransom was paid. Another affidavit, from a man who had worked with Hauptmann on carpentry jobs, states that Hauptmann was often coming up with criminal “get-rich-quick” schemes that involved robberies or holdups, and in one case a kidnapping.

Newspaper clipping regarding tracing the $50,000 ransom. Lindbergh baby kidnapping closed case files, Bronx County District Attorney, NYC Municipal Archives.

In the end, the evidence, while largely circumstantial, was overwhelming and although Hauptmann professed his innocence to the end, the jury convicted him on February 13, 1935, and he was sentenced to death. Governor Hoffman of New Jersey, a German-American who publicly stated the case was a result of anti-German sentiment, stayed the execution several times. Finally, the judgment was carried out fourteen months later, on April 3, 1936. No other accomplices were ever brought to trial. Hauptmann’s widow Anna continued to profess her husband’s innocence and fought to clear his name until her death in 1994. She may have had other reasons than belief in his innocence. At the very least, she may have been an accomplice after the fact (the IRS had brought a tax fraud case against Bruno Hauptmann and her for failing to claim the $50,000 ransom money as income). Still further, by the time of his arrest, Bruno and Anna had a child, a boy about the same age as the Lindbergh baby was when kidnapped. Perhaps they couldn’t bear to have their child grow up thinking his father was capable of such a thing.

NYPD_17576e: Premises at 1279 E 222nd St. where part of Lindbergh ransom money was found, September 21, 1934. Det. Dunn and Murphy, alien squad detectives on case. NYPD photo unit collection, NYC Municipal Archives. At the time of his arrest Hauptmann had a child about the same age as the Lindbergh baby had been.

As for the Lindberghs, they fled the country to escape media attention from the case, spending 1935 to 1939 in England. During a trip to Germany Col. Lindbergh damaged his name by praising Hitler and the German air force, the Luftwaffe. He returned to the US in 1939 where he became involved in the America First movement, which advocated for keeping America out of the European conflict. His views on race and eugenics, and his early support for Hitler, are some of the reasons given by those who think he was somehow involved in the kidnapping of his own child. But bad things can also happen to bad people. In recognition of their critical participation in the investigation, the DOI, now rebranded as the FBI, was given jurisdiction over all future kidnapping cases. It was an early win for the young head of the organization, J. Edgar Hoover, a complicated man who would also become a controversial figure in American history.

Radiogram received from Dresden regarding Bruno Hauptmann’s criminal record in Germany, September 29, 1934. Lindbergh baby kidnapping closed case files, Bronx County District Attorney, NYC Municipal Archives.

Letter from the American Consulate in Leipzig, Germany to Chief Inspector John Sullivan regarding Isidore Fisch, October 1, 1934. Lindbergh baby kidnapping closed case files, Bronx County District Attorney, NYC Municipal Archives.

Copy of Hauptmann’s 1923 immigration investigation conducted on Ellis Island. Lindbergh baby kidnapping closed case files, Bronx County District Attorney, NYC Municipal Archives.

Letter from Hauptmann to the brother of Isidor Fisch. Lindbergh baby kidnapping closed case files, Bronx County District Attorney, NYC Municipal Archives.

Notes from the Bronx DA. Lindbergh baby kidnapping closed case files, Bronx County District Attorney, NYC Municipal Archives.

Love Counts: NYC LGBTQ History in the Municipal Library

This Pride Month, For the Record showcases selected publications in the NYC Municipal Library that illuminate the powerful and complex history of the City’s LGBTQ population in recent decades.  

Love Counts: The Economic Benefits of Marriage Equality for New York. New York City Comptroller, June 2007. NYC Municipal Library.

Human Services and the Gay and Lesbian Population of New York City: Emerging Services, Emerging Issues. Community Council of Greater New York, 1986. NYC Municipal Library.

In the throes of the AIDS epidemic in 1986, the Community Council of New York prepared a report for the New York City Human Resources Administration entitled Human Services and the Gay and Lesbian Population of New York City: Emerging Services, Emerging Issues. The authors note that “the gay and lesbian population is primarily a hidden population, with many individuals afraid of disclosing their identity,” and acknowledge that despite NYC’s tolerance for different lifestyles, “homosexuality remains a subject of controversy and a target of prejudice.” 

End the Hate: A Report on Violence against Gay Men and Lesbians in New York City, a 1991 publication from the New York City Commission on Human Rights, was created at the request of Mayor David Dinkins “to provide a context for New York State legislators considering the passage of the Hate Crimes Bill and to illustrate the experiences which have led gays and lesbians to press for protections under it.” A questionnaire about bias incidents was returned by 508 respondents, largely people who had “never before contacted the police or other organizations about the attack.” The completed questionnaires “reveal a disturbing array of hate crimes which range from verbal abuse to vicious gang attacks.” (The Hate Crimes Act was eventually signed into law in New York State in 2000.)  

End the Hate: A Report on Violence against Gay Men and Lesbians in New York City, 1991. New York City Commission on Human Rights. NYC Municipal Library.

Love Counts (see above), a 2007 report from the Comptroller’s office, takes a decidedly practical approach to shoring up support for marriage equality in NYC. Subtitled “The Economic Benefits of Marriage Equality for New York,” it calculates that “New York City would receive a boost of nearly $175 million to its economy during the first three years after legislative approval of marriage for same-sex couples in the State.” (The Marriage Equality Act was signed into law in New York State in 2011.)

51 Christopher Street, ca. 1939. Tax Department photographs, NYC Municipal Archives.  

The June 2015 NYC Landmarks Designation Report for the Stonewall Inn, seen above in a 1940s tax photo before it became a gay bar, names it “one of the most important sites associated with Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender history in New York City and the nation.” The narrative describes the events of June 28, 1969, when the bar's patrons fought back against a police crackdown, chanting “gay pride” and “gay power,” and sparking the nationwide struggle for LGBTQ civil rights.  

The Marsha & Sylvia Plan, City Council of New York, 2023. NYC Municipal Library.

The Marsha & Sylvia Plan, a 2023 submission to the Municipal Library’s Government Publications Portal, was issued by the City Council’s LGBTQIA+ Caucus. Acknowledging that “our work to secure and affirm the lives of our LGBTQIA+ (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex, asexual, and more) neighbors is far from over,” it details initiatives in multiple fields that “empower us to deliver policies that affirm our place in the city we call home.”

Deportation and Immigration: NYC Mayors and Federal Officials

On April 27, 1972, Mayor John V. Lindsay sent a letter to the Hon. Raymond F. Farrell, Commissioner, Immigration and Naturalization Service, U. S. Department of Justice, in Washington, D.C.  Lindsay wrote to Farrell on behalf of John Lennon and Yoko Ono, “. . . who are currently facing deportation proceedings initiated by your Department.” Lindsay acknowledged to Farrell that the couple “. . . speak out with strong and critical voices on major issues of the day.” However, he continued, “If this is the motive underlying the unusual and harsh action taken by the Immigration and Naturalization Services, then it is an attempt to silence Constitutionally protected First Amendment rights of free speech and association and a denial of the civil liberties of these two people.” 

In his conclusion, the Mayor wrote, “In light of their unique past and present contribution in the fields of music and the arts, and especially considering their talent to be so outstanding as to be ranked among the greatest of our time in these fields, a grave injustice is being perpetuated by the continuance of the deportation proceeding.”

New York Senator Robert F. Kennedy and Mayor Robert F. Wagner, n.d., Mayor Robert F. Wagner Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

A carbon copy of Mayor Lindsay’s letter is in his correspondence files. Archivists located the letter in response to a query from a patron who read contemporary newspaper accounts about the Mayor’s intervention on behalf of John Lennon and Yoko Ono in the deportation matter. The patron inquired if the Archives had any records of the correspondence.

Typing “John Lennon” into the Collection Guides did not produce a result. Similarly, scanning folder listings in Lindsay’s subject files looking for possibly relevant titles, e.g. “deportation,” also proved fruitless. Then, the archivist noticed folders labeled “U. S. Government, 1972” within the Departmental correspondence series. After a quick examination of its contents, success!

The existence of separately filed correspondence to and from officials and agencies of the federal government and New York City mayoral administrations dates to 1934 when Fiorello LaGuardia took office as Mayor. The recent For the Record article, New York and President Jimmy Carter explored the relationship between President Jimmy Carter and City Mayors Abraham Beame and Edward Koch beginning with the fiscal crisis in 1977, and the subsequent efforts to restore the City’s financial stability. This week’s article further explores the research value of the federal correspondence files in mayoral collections.

Mayor LaGuardia had friends in high places. Fiorello LaGuardia to James V. Forrestal, Acting Secretary of the Navy, September 8, 1941. Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Fiorello La Guardia’s three terms as Mayor (1934-1945) coincided with a significant time in the city’s history, from the Great Depression through World War II. The collection demonstrates how closely he worked with federal officials at every level as they sought to ameliorate Depression-related conditions. There is voluminous correspondence regarding efforts to provide unemployment relief through public works projects such as highways, parks, and housing, that would forever change the physical landscape of New York City.

The first folder of “correspondence with federal officials” in Mayor LaGuardia’s collection shows how the City obtained federal funds for construction of the Henry Hudson Parkway. In May 1934, Harold Ickes, the Federal Emergency Administrator of Public Works, informed City officials that “the project is worthy of future consideration.” He asked for a detailed application. Within days, Parks Commissioner Robert Moses obliged with a detailed multi-page proposal, including blueprints and project cost estimates. Ickes approved, and construction began in February 1935; the portion south of the George Washington Bridge opened to motorists on October 10, 1937.

Clerks in the Mayor’s Office continued the practice of separately filing federal correspondence during the administration of LaGuardia’s successor, William O’Dwyer (1946-1950). And, beginning with the O’Dwyer administration they further separated letters to and from the President. Not all federal correspondence concerned fiscal matters. There are numerous letters concerning special events, and notes politely thanking one another for an invitation or hospitality during a visit to their respective cities.

Mayor O’Dwyer’s files, for example, include a letter to his Executive Secretary, John Tierney from Murray O. Smyth, Director of the Office of Public information in the Treasury Department. Dated May 4, 1950, it confirmed that Mayor O’Dwyer would ring an exact duplicate of the Liberty Bell set up on the steps of City Hall. Smyth suggested this would “make a fine event for the newsreels as well as for press photos.” He also noted that the Liberty Bell is an exact duplicate of the original bell in Philadelphia, “without the crack.”

Robert F. Kennedy, United States Senate to Mayor Robert F. Wagner, May 10, 1965. Mayor Robert F. Wagner Records Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Mayor Robert Wagner’s collection (1954-1965) also includes federal correspondence as a sub-series with the Departmental Correspondence files. His clerks further separated materials to and from members of Congress. On Aril 27, 1965, Wagner wrote to Emanuel Celler, the long-serving member of Congress from Brooklyn. In his letter he endorsed the Celler-Hart Bill to amend the Immigration and Nationality Act: “I consider the passage of this Celler-Hart Bill essential. This legislation is long overdue to rectify past injustices in our immigration policy.”

Wagner sent copies of the letter to New York Senators Robert F. Kennedy and Jacob K. Javits. Kennedy replied on May 10, 1965. He informed Wagner that “I agree that the present system is an affront to our ideals of equality and justice.” He added that “As you know, President Johnson has proposed the same bill, originally proposed by President Kennedy, which we drafted in the Department of Justice. I intend to give this bill – which I am a co-sponsor – my fullest support.”

In a related matter, Wagner’s files include a transcript of a telegram he dictated on July 27, 1965. Wagner sent it to the Hon. Jonathan Bingham, U.S. Congress.  Wagner recommended approval of the National Park Service proposal to establish Ellis Island as a National Historic Site: “For millions of Americans it has been the gateway to a new life of liberty and opportunity.”    

Researchers are invited to further explore the correspondence with federal officials in the files of New York mayoral administrations.

Indexing Felony Indictment Records, Update

“I was drunk all day, I did not mean to steal the child.” -Lizzie Colbert

On October 26, 1879, Lizzie Colbert, entered a guilty plea before the Police Justice at the First District Police Court in Manhattan. She had been charged with “decoying child.” The details of this unfortunate incident, and thousands of other felony offenses, can be found in the Municipal Archives collection of New York County Court of General Sessions Indictments, also known as the New York District Attorney Felony Indictment files.

Criminal Courts, a.k.a. “The Tombs,” Valentine’s Manual, 1864. NYC Municipal Library.

The felony indictment series date from 1790 through the 1970s and are a significant component of the Archives’ collections related to the administration of criminal justice. Beginning in 1990, the Archives received federal funding from the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH) for projects to preserve, index and reformat these materials. The Archives successfully persuaded the Endowment that the records had national importance based on their volume (thousands of cubic feet), date span (1686 to through the 20th century), and for their intellectual content. Generations of both academic and family historians have mined these records for unique information about the people of the city, specifically, and more generally, American urban history.

In 1997, the Archives received support from the NEH to index and microfilm the felony indictment files from 1879 through 1892. A second award from the NEH supported digitization of the microfilm. Creation of the index to this series greatly expanded researcher access. Two years ago, the ongoing demand for information from the records prompted the Archives to launch a project to continue indexing the series. The work began with cases filed in 1879, and has proceeded in reverse chronological order. Currently, case files from 1868 are being indexed. For the Record described the indictment record indexing project in What We’re Working on Now - Indexing Felony Indictment Files. Since then, the names of 28,665 defendants have been added to the index.  

The indexing project includes entering names of the defendants, the offense, and date of indictment, into a searchable database. As noted in the previous article, the types of cases found in this series include indictments for a wide variety of felony crimes. As expected, there are hundreds of larceny, assault, and robbery cases. Prosecutors also charged numerous defendants with fraud, libel, forgery, arson, perjury, and keeping a disorderly house. The high volume of homicide, murder, and manslaughter cases points to the harsh reality of life in a densely populated growing city. Similarly, cases of cruelty to animals are a reflection of the vast equine population at that time.    

As noted above there are a wide variety of offenses handled by the prosecutors. Among the more notable cases, at least in terms of quantity, are the bigamy files. The case of the people vs. Marie Wellerdick, from June 1879, may be typical. A letter from her attorney in the file informed the District Attorney that the defendant “was abandoned by her [first] husband.” Then, some years later she “lived with Albert Weber as his mistress and had two children by him.” Two years later, Weber became very ill and “on his death bed he requested her to marry him.” She, believing her former husband dead, “complied with his wishes and the ceremony was performed on the 18th day of August 1873.” Inconveniently, the first husband was not dead. The prosecutor, Assistant District Attorney Horace Russell, however, decided to withdraw the charge. In a note added to the case file, he wrote that the defendant “was not of such a character as that she should be prosecuted further. A death bed marriage to satisfy the conscience of a dying man might not to be made an occasion of a criminal conviction.” June 7, 1879.

The People vs. Thomas O’Connor, June 15, 1869, New York District Attorney Case Files, NYC Municipal Archives.

Not all of the cases involve grievous harm to persons or property. In the newly indexed case files, there are about a dozen prosecutions related to the distribution of “obscene” materials. On June 15, 1869, prosectors indicted Thomas O’Connor, a.k.a. James Dexter, for “selling obscene books.” The file helpfully includes a copy of a flier listing the available publications and products. Books titled “Amours of a Modest Man,” and “Scenes in a Nunnery,” along with “French Transparent Cards,” and stereoscopic pictures, are just some of the items offered.

It is not entirely clear what prompted the indictment, but the case file includes a short letter, dated May 10, 1869, from Stuart A. Wilson of Nebraska City, Nebraska. In the letter to “James Dexter” he complained that he had sent 50 cents along with a request for one of his publications from “Cupid’s Own Library,” but had not received the requested item. He added that his order for another book had also not been fulfilled. Wilson warned Dexter that “if I do not hear from you within 20 days I will positively have you punished.” He added, “it is not the money I want but justice.” Apparently, Wilson followed through on his threat as the letter found its way to the prosecutor’s office.  

County Jail, Valentine’s Manual, 1870. NYC Municipal Library.

The O’Connor/Dexter case file also includes the deposition of Riley A. Brick. He stated that on January 30, 1869, he called at Dexter/O’Connor’s place of business, 60 Warren Street. He saw the defendant there and “inquired if he could purchase some obscene books.” Dexter said yes. Riley went on to state that he was a “member of the Young Men’s Christian Association of the City of New York and that “his purpose in this proceeding is to protect families and society against the circulation of said obscene and indecent books sold by [the defendant] and to punish him therefore.” It is not entirely clear from the documents, but it appears that O’Connor/Dexter switched his plea to “guilty,” and the charges may have been dismissed.

The People vs. Rebecca Kelly, September 17, 1879; The People vs. Lizzie Colbert, November 6, 1879, New York District Attorney Case Files, NYC Municipal Archives.

Lizzie Colbert was not the only defendant accused of “Decoying Child” in the autumn of 1879. On September 17, 1879, prosecutors charged that Rebecca Kelly “... did maliciously forcibly and fraudulently take, carry away, decoy and entice away” the child Prince Matthews from his sister Eugenia. The native-born Kelly, 20 years old, listed her occupation on the plea statement as “I do anything I can get to do.” She initially plead ‘not guilty,’ but then later “acknowledged that she found said child on the Bowery near Houston Street and that he was not her child.” The jury at her trial could not agree to convict and on October 24, 1879, the Court discharged Kelly.

Lizzie Colbert did not fare as well. Even though she voluntarily brought the child she admitted was not her own to the 27th Police Precinct Station, and offered the seemingly reasonable excuse that she had been drunk all day, the jury voted to convict. The Court sentenced her to one year in the State penitentiary.

Researchers are invited to access and further explore the collection.  Look for future For the Record articles that chronicle project progress.