End Arrives for an Age-Old Business

 by Barry Owens


One morning last month David Freund, the fifth-generation owner of a ticking manufacturing business at 102 Franklin Street, leaned against the handsome but rickety oak railing in the middle of his former office. Around him was the organized chaos of a building in transition -moving dollies, bulging garbage bags and lots of dust.

As movers pack up furniture, David Freund passes his last hours in the office that housed his family's 161-year-old business. Photo: Carl Glassman

The occasional rumble of workers installing sheetrock upstairs sent chips of paint drifting down from the tin ceiling.

In another part of the room, the son of the building's new owners, 23-year-old Kyle Wittels, pushed a broom across the floor.

The last of the office furniture and personal items that Freund chose to keep had been loaded onto a truck the previous day-save for his father's framed masters-in-law diploma from Brooklyn College, class of 1932, which he planned to carry out under his arm.

Dry-eyed and unsentimental, Freund, 66, declared his work complete.

"I'm out of here," he said, clapping his hands once for emphasis. And with that, his family's 161-year run in the ticking business came to an end.


Demand for ticking-the tightly woven fabric most commonly used for mattress covers and pillow protectors but also utilized by fashion designers-is now being filled mostly by suppliers in China. There was a time when Freund, Freund & Company routinely moved $3 million worth of ticking in a year, but for the last several years sales have been at one-fifth of that level, Freund said.
He reflected on what his forebears-beginning with Joseph in 1845 and carrying through to his father, Jacob "Jack" Freund, who "retired by death" in 1986-would say about the company's sale: "I think they would have said, 'What took you so long.'"

The company was first located on the Lower East Side, at Houston and Pitt Streets, and moved to Grand Street in Soho in 1873. From 1879 to 1904, the company ran a strictly wholesale shop at Broadway and Franklin Street. The Freunds moved the entire operation into102 Franklin Street in 1947.

Property values have certainly changed since then, but little else has.

Inside there are Western Union call boxes, rows of manual typewriters, and walls covered in that particular shade of blue-green paint that seems to render everything it touches an antique. In this case, the paint is authentic. Freund doesn't know the last time the interior was painted, but he started working there in 1968 and said it would have been well before that.
New building owners Neal and Judith Wittels watch their son Kyle sweep the space once belonging to the ticking business. Kyle will manage the building. Photo: Carl Glassman
"We basically bought a 1940's building," Kyle Wittels said a few days later, again pushing a broom around the place.

This time he had the help of his mother, Judith, who whisked up clouds of dust from the floor with a corn broom. The rickety railing had been removed, but office partitions and other furniture remained. Kyle's father, Neal, 52, sat at one of the desks and perused ancient paperwork. In one of the desk drawers he found an empty bottle of Gablinger's beer, a long-defunct brand legendary for its foul taste.

A large sign on 102 Franklin Street, since removed, announced the building's use. Photo: WALTERGRUTCHFIELD.NET
The Wittels have no plans to continue the ticking business. Tribeca's textile industry is not what it used to be. Yet, surprisingly, the Wittels say they do not intend to capitalize on what is perhaps Tribeca's most lucrative business these days-converting buildings into condominiums.

The family plans to keep the building as commercial office space, aside from the ground floor, which may soon house a retail store or restaurant. Three commercial tenants have already signed 10-year leases.

Freund, who entertained many offers for the building, called the Wittels' plan a "nice outcome" of the sale, but said he did not insist that the building remain commercial.

"We're not developers," said Neal Wittels. "I'm a plastic surgeon. My wife is a plastic surgeon's wife. We weren't interested in just making money here."

But when he tells people about the family's plans for the building, he said, the most common response is, "What are you, nuts?"

The family's company, Wittels Holdings, does own commercial properties in Miami Beach, Fla., where Neal maintains a successful practice. The Wittels also own a co-op loft on White Street, where Kyle has lived for three years, although he is considering moving into one of the floors at 102 Franklin Street.

The family has not yet settled on a tenant for the ground floor, but they have compiled a short list of businesses that would not be welcome: day-care for dogs, a disco or a fast-food joint.

"We're holding out for something special," Neal said.

"No strip club," promised Kyle.

The Wittels said they will also insist that the future tenant respect the building's history and architecture. The tin ceiling must remain intact and if the remaining oak partitions can be preserved, all the better.

And, at least for the time being, the gold-leaf lettering on the window pronouncing 102 Franklin Street as the home of "Freund, Freund & Company" will remain.

"We're hoping that the block won't even notice there's been a change," said Kyle.