BY DENNIS LYNCH | The fourth-generation owner of Chelsea’s Peter McManus Café has assured patrons of his family’s beloved bar that the storied watering hole isn’t facing an immediate crisis. Justin McManus said that representatives of the Renatus Group, which paid $10.5 million for the property in April, have verbally agreed to a one-year extension of his bar’s lease at its 85-year home in Chelsea.
“It’s been pretty amicable and it seems like we’re going to sign a one-year extension. Obviously it doesn’t solve our long-term problems and put us at full ease, but no, we’re not going anywhere just yet,” McManus said.
Some patrons organized the “Coalition to #SaveMcManus” earlier this month when reports appeared online suggesting the bar could imminently close. Just under 1,000 people have joined since. Some members suggested an effort to landmark the 115-year-old building.
Renatus has left a number of apartments in the four-story building vacant after their last tenants moved out and the owners of Chelsea Deli, next-door to the bar, left earlier this month (although the details of the latter’s closure are unclear).
There are at least two residential rent-regulated tenants left living in the building above the bar. The Renatus Group cannot legally evict them and cannot raise their rent, possibly until next fall. This summer, for the second year in a row, the city’s Rent Guidelines Board enacted a rent freeze for one-year rent renewal leases signed between Oct. 1, 2016 and Sept. 30, 2017. It enacted a maximum rent hike of 2% for two-year leases, for leases signed in the same period.
The Renatus Group did not respond to requests for comment. The firm bought the corner building — which occupies two lots with a combined footprint of about 3,700 square feet — in April but have been managing the property for the last few years, McManus said.
The firm plans to “redevelop the buildings to significantly improve cash flow,” according to the Real Deal. There are four addresses between the properties: 152 and 154 Seventh Ave. and 201 and 203 W. 19th St. Zoning would allow for a mixed residential and commercial tower, such as the 14-floor glass tower built in 2008 a block away at the corner of W. 18th St. and Seventh Ave.
The Peter McManus Café, known for its comfortable atmosphere, colorful history, and award-winning burgers, has called the corner of Seventh Ave. and W. 19th St. home since 1933. Justin’s great-grandfather Peter previously owned some speakeasies and a general store in the city, and opened the joint at the end of Prohibition. Until Renatus swings the wrecking ball (if they ever do), Justin thinks the bar will remain in its home.
“We’re a successful bar, and you look in this neighborhood — I’ve seen so many open up just to close six months later. So to get a stable tenant that pays rent on the first of every month, it’s a blessing. We need them, but they need people like us too,” he said. “You know, they’re not going to have us leave to have a short-term tenant come in here; we’re grandfathered into so many things that this space would practically have to get torn down anyway.”
A larger than usual crowd packed Peter McManus Café on Thurs., Dec. 15, perhaps compelled to brave the frigid cold and whipping winds after rumors spread earlier in the week that the bar could be closing soon. Artists, producers, and other dance and theater industry folks packed the back dining area. One group was gathered for the annual holiday party they’ve held there each year for over a decade.
Lighting designer Joe Doran was there for the festivities. He’s come countless times since the early 2000s, following productions and hard days at work. He believes Peter McManus will go down in the history books.
“This place is so important to culture and so important to artists. It’s been for years, has it not?” Doran facetiously asked his friend, Stan, sitting with him. “This is the bar that artists come to. This is the bar to be at; it’s a significant place, it is.”
This isn’t the first time the bar has faced an existential crisis. McManus recalled that his father dropped out of college in the late 1970s to help his grandfather manage the bar. Surrounded by a city drowning in crime and economic instability, the bar struggled at times to stay in business.
But the McManus family persevered and has seemed to find success in balancing the preservation of its rich history and staying relevant. The stuff of lore remains — the bar still has the terrazzo floors that Peter McManus himself shelled out $5,000 for in 1933 (almost $93,000 in 2016 dollars). The old wood bar and authentic Tiffany stained glass cabinets behind the bar are original, including the cabinet with the bullet hole from a slug some scalawag let off at Peter McManus in a botched robbery attempt decades ago.
But a newer touch-screen jukebox has replaced its old one, the bar and kitchen started taking credit cards a decade ago, and Justin installed new flat-screen televisions. Sure, some patrons grumbled when Justin finally removed a phone book stand that was bottlenecking traffic near its famous phone booths, but that didn’t stop them from coming.
Some folks do come for the history, but it seems most come because its just a great place to have a beer or a burger (or both) with friends. The place is home for all sorts. Working class firefighters, policemen, and laborers have called it home for decades. Older artists, including the rent-regulated tenants upstairs, still hang out there beside the younger, more affluent crowd that has moved into the neighborhood.
For some, it’s the alpha — the birthplace of countless friendships, comedy sketches, dance and theater productions, and maybe even a novel or two. For others, the omega. Justin recalled a pair of former regulars, a priest and a rabbi, who one day got into a heated argument, tossed beer at each other, stormed out and never came back. He remembers one old-timer who peacefully slumped over and breathed his last breath sitting on a barstool one evening about 25 years ago. Justin was a pallbearer at his funeral.
Somehow it’s made it onto countless lists across the Internet as a must-see bar in New York, but remained a low-key haunt for celebrities since its inception, who’ve told Justin it’s one of the only “normal” bars they can go and be respected by their fellow patrons.
A group of young women — also part of the local dance and theater scene — sat at a corner table in the back of the room with a pitcher of beer, two plates of wings, two orders of mozzarella sticks, and an order of tater tots. Out of all the bars in the neighborhood, why Peter McManus?
“You have a regular spot, they know you and you know them, and there’s a rapport — the beers are cheap and the people [staff] are amazing,” Isabella Hreljanovic said. They all hugged and chatted up the holiday party crowd, Justin, and the staff on the way out.
Justin said the thought of packing up all the well-worn tables and memorabilia at the bar and opening somewhere new is a “worst-case scenario,” but if Peter McManus had to go anywhere, there’s no question Chelsea is the first place he’d look, he said.
“Oh absolutely, we’ve been in Chelsea for 85 years,” he said. “Since we haven’t moved in so long, it kind of makes you a little nervous about it. You do lose some of that history, as much as you hate to say it.”
