194 Columbia Heights (left) is being prepped for a sale.
Photo: Adriane Quinlan

When a U-Haul pulled up in front of 194 Columbia Heights three days ago, the neighbors gawked. No one had been in or out of the house for decades — despite an address on one of the city’s most enviable blocks, where the view out the back looks over the promenade toward lower Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty. No. 194, an Italianate brownstone, had been abandoned so long the windows were boarded. A wash of green mold covered the façade, and chunks of stone were missing from the grand stairs. In addition to being the subject of wild speculation — neighbors believed it had been left empty to “spite” an ex — it had long been a problem house, often reported to the city over worries about structural integrity, squatters, and rats.

Hand-forged handles hint at the level of detail inside.
Photo: Adriane Quinlan

“We didn’t find rats, but we did see a pigeon, which flew away,” says Vicki Negron, a Corcoran broker standing outside on Friday, preparing to market the building next week for $15 million. That price accounts for what she called a “treasure chest” of historic details inside: two fireplaces per floor in original Italian marble; handlaid parquet, including a pinwheel design; original moldings, doors, and hardware. (The outside of the house gives a hint of how fine these details may be — deeply carved stone cornices and hand-forged doorknobs made to look like swirly volute shells.)

Thickly carved stone suggests the home was built for a rich family. The broker says it was built around 1860 for a family that used it for two generations, then sold to a woman who sold to the current owner.
Photo: Adriane Quinlan

Then there’s the scale: about 7,500 square feet across what turns out to be six stories, which begins on a cellar with eight-foot-high ceilings and ends on an attic with 12-foot ceilings that’s invisible from the street. The layout suggests this is an eight- or nine-bedroom home, per Negron, who brought in a historian to help identify details and “had to pull him out,” she says with a laugh. (Not before he apparently dated a patterned wallpaper flecked with gold to the Victorian era.) The buyer will get every stick of salvage, including original shutters, with one exception: a stained-glass window in the formal living area (seemingly a Tiffany) that depicts the Statue of Liberty — whose hand doesn’t point up but instead to her location on the real waterfront. “The family is keeping that,” says Negron, who estimated it was worth more than most houses. (What the family is not keeping: truckloads of furniture and bric-a-brac left behind, which has already filled multiple trucks and included old dresses and toys, a sled, and boxes of comic books — mostly Richie Rich.) 

The oversize scale includes deep windowsills, perfect for planters.
Photo: Adriane Quinlan

On Friday, neighbors who stopped by to peer into the open doors had the same question: Had the owner died? For decades, Brooklyn Heights has wondered why one of the city’s finest homes was left to rot, when a sale would mean that the owner and their descendants might never have to work again. Negron was happy to report that the owner, Austin Moore, is “happy, healthy, and has all of his faculties,” and all back taxes have been paid off. She is selling on behalf of a family trust and says the family no longer see themselves living there or embarking on an extensive renovation. “They are finally of a mind for a new buyer to occupy it,” she explains. That will take some work. Negron says it hasn’t been used in about 30 years and estimates that it would take about $6 million to $10 million in work to prep it for a single family. Still, people are interested: “We’ve already had threats of offers.” A stream of workers in neon shirts were coming in and out of the door to the garden level, holding rusted chunks of HVAC ducts and piping. Negron’s assistant stopped one holding a stamped metal panel. It seemed to be a decorative plate for a fireplace and appeared to show a dove curled inside an oval. I heard him ask, “Can you take that back inside?”

The rusted metal panel seems to show a bird in an oval.
Photo: Adriane Quinlan

One of the salvaged interior details that Negron will include in any sale.
Photo: Adriane Quinlan

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