Times They Are, Uh, Changin’

February 22, 2019

All Posts, News

Times They Are, Uh, Changin'

EV Grieve, a “blog where you’ll find local news on the real estate, restaurants and residents of the East Village NYC,” reported this morning that the New York charter of the Hells Angels Motorcycle Club has reached an agreement to sell its Manhattan clubhouse to a Brooklyn-based real estate company named Whitestone Realty Group, Incorporated. Whitestone is the corporate identity of a real estate entrepreneur named Nathan Blatter.

Documents published by EV Grieve do not list a proposed sale price. They do indicate that the the legal owner of the six-story building at 77 E 3rd Street is the Church of Angels and it intends to sell the clubhouse to Blatter.

Big Old

Realtor.com states, “According to the New York public records, the property …has approximately 11,025 square feet, with a lot size of 2,400 square feet. Nearby schools include Neighborhood School, Tompkins Square Middle School and Manhattan School for Career Development.” The building is 119-years-old and the neighborhood median price is $2,159,000.

The New York charter has occupied the building since 1969.

The federal government tried to seize the building after an FBI raid on May 2, 1985 discovered illegal drugs. The court case lingered for a decade. Finally, after a three-week trial, presided over by now-Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor, a jury decided that the Angels were not dangerous to their neighbors.

Neighbors

A woman named Jackie Gares, who lived two buildings down from the club, told the New York Times about the verdict, “I’m glad. I think this is the safest block in New York, and I’s because of them. Because people don’t want to mess with them. People don’t break into cars on this block. If I’m shopping and they’re out, I feel safe.”

Late in 2016, New York police started an harassment campaign against members entering and leaving the clubhouse after a man named David Martinez was shot in a parking dispute outside the club.

Police stole parking cones, ticketed covered motorcycles for failure to display license plates, stile a park bench outside the front door and accused the Angels of blocking the sidewalk with a couple of potted plants.

At the time, a police source admitted to the New York Daily News, “It was done just to fuck with them. They’re not cooperating with the investigation. If they’re gonna give us a hard time, we’re gonna give them a hard time.”

It appears that sorts of episodes will come to an end soon.

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11 Responses to “Times They Are, Uh, Changin’”

  1. Va. Bob Says:

    The clubhouse sold for 7.75 mil.,per Village-area blog EV Grieve.

  2. edcan Says:

    @Hellequiain didn’t get the joke. I thought it was very ODD that the number 81 occurred in the news like this and any biker would immediately think of H.A.

  3. Hellequiain Says:

    @ edcan

    Fuck me! That has got to get an award for the best shoehorning in of a completely tenuous and totally fucking irrelevant link. Way to go….

  4. edcan Says:

    81 keeps in the news lately. What about this one?!

    Full List of 81 People, Entities Tied to Trump Being Probed

    https://www.newsmax.com/newsfront/house-democrats-judiciary-investigation/2019/03/04/id/905400/

  5. Va. Bob Says:

    [email protected] as a longtime reader of this site ,I’m aware of this “club bidness’ idea.This is a little different,as real estate transactions ,and lawsuits (before there might be a secret settlement),are a matter of public record.I did read on another site yesterday that the Alexander heirs no longer have any claim,or it was settled. It’s an interesting topic ,all-around.With my bad knees ,I can’t imagine living in a six-floor walk-up.And it’s ironic that the security the club brought to the block probably helped usher in severe gentrification.No disrespect intended to anyone on on this high-profile topic

  6. anon Says:

    Va. Bob: Stephen King liked to say that curiosity killed the cat but the satisfaction brought him back. He says lots of asshole shit like that.

    In response to your reasonable and civil question, this is my asshole response: “That is that club’s club business.”

    End of story. No disrespect intended. Have a good one.

  7. Anon Says:

    There is Big Big BIG Money in that part of New York.

    Even in the late 2000’s I rode up there, and I was a country boy- Atlanta was a big city to me. Miami was the biggest and most violent city I’d been in.

    Then there was this behemoth: it started coming on I-95. It leeched into a whole ‘nother state. When I was stopped in NJ- I had come through Philly- I was given the business by NJ Statie. He was a black/puerto rican dude and not much older than me. I think he was out of the Army and trying out the business of a being a cop cause he wasn’t real interested in his job. I remember him asking me if anyone ever really put a shotgun in their clutch handlebar. I laughed my ass off so hard, he started laughing. I told him the tubing of most handle bars was so thin, I’d blow off my own hand, shoot myself with buckshot spraying out in pattern very lose to my heart, and what is a LE gonna stand there while I fiddle fuck with the bars and say “Here, Wile E. Coyote, State Trooper, stand right here while I adjust the angle of the bars to blast you like Yosemite Sam.” I asked him if he really thought that would fly.

    The cop asked me where I was going and I told him I was a tourist. Finally let me go.

    I remember wanting to visit, Long Island, see the 3rd Street Club House, and go to Brooklyn.

    Brooklyn was gentrifying. There was some kinda place near the 3rd St Clubhouse where you could illegally rent a room for a night for the bargain price of $350, it wasn’t a “legal hotel” but it sure as hell looked like one.

    The cleanest piece of real estate in the East Village was that damn clubhouse. Even in 2006, when somebody stepped outside for a cigarette, I think you could see GaGa’s memorial plaque- and it was serendipity I saw it, I was walking the Village trying to see what was so damn dangerous and somebody come out, nodded at me, and sat on “THE BENCH” to have a smoke.

    Other than a motorcycle cop in NY basically backing off a taxi so I could make a turn lane onto an exit, I had no other problems with LE.

    I did not have a credit card at the time. I’d brought cash, but not NY cash. I found out LI was a lot city but all these little towns there in those two little counties. I found someplace I was pretty sure I couldn’t get arrested, and I was in my 20’s- so this is both true and embarassing: I actually had a leg shackle from Holman Correctional Institution, I used it and some logging chain run though my wheels to stop my bike from getting stolen or fucked with without waking me up. I really remember thinking I was hid good- then the owner of the little piece of land showed up with a heater and spotlight and caught me. I showed him my drivers license, toll tickets, my NJ Statie’se warning about safely exceeding the speed limit. The old man said “You don’t look like no serial killer, you can camp in my yard.” I was expecting another little lot and instead he might has well been living in the Amityville house. He had a boat house, a guest house, and his house(which was Amityville size)- guy must have been fucking loaded. He opened up his boat house, let me put my bike inside, he gave me a key, and I rolled out my bag on his dock. Told me to lock it up and leave the key in the guest house’s key box. I remember the sun did not wake me. An old lady with an Afghan hound poked with me her cane and asked me if I ever killed anybody. I mean not hello, how are you, get your ass up, I’m calling the cops. She asks me if I ever killed anybody. I told her the only thing I ever killed was a bear when I was 3(that’s only partially a lie- gramps let me sight the 12ga and pull the trigger) and after that only antler rats. She asked me serious as can be- “Down south the rats got antlers ? I thought only the hill people slept with their cousins.” I explained an antler rat was a deer. She’d clearly been swayed by “Bambi” propaganda. She told me I was missing the best part of the day. I explained I’d ridden around 24 hours straight starting two days before and I’d have to miss this one.

    I went back to sleep and left about 9am, locked the man’s boathouse, and put his key into a lock box on the guest house with note that he didn’t have to count the silverware but he could reach me at…

    I finally found some branch kin of some branch kind and had two good days good time after they played phone tag, checked my teeth, the shoeing on my hooves, played 20 questions, and then examined my bike. It took 16 hours getting back to the mountains- or at least my mountains. When I hit Bristol, I stopped at a back country truck stop with a mobile home beside it advertising to come inside and know Jesus and “get saved”. I am aware of the biblical sense of the word coming to “know” so I didn’t venture inside, but I did kiss the zoysia they had planted. I was never so glad to see Knoxville traffic- EVER.

    I stayed with extended family and I told them about New York and back in 5 days, less than $200, and I a managed to miss out on coming to know Jesus in the biblical sense.

    I remember a now gone friend told me “You are either the stupidest son of a bitch, the luckiest son of bitch or just goddamn dumb. But you made it back here so there at least there was a happy ending.”

    I told him that God favors fools, horses, and bikers. And that hell no there was no happy ending, I didn’t go in that damned trailer to know ANYONE IN THE BIBLICAL SENSE.

    The following lessons were learned:
    1. Courtesy cards are for a reason. Call ahead in advance. Keep those courtesy cards safe.
    2. Don’t try camping in Nassau County.
    3. You know why birds turn over on their backs when they leave Long Island and hit NYC and New York State ? Cause there ain’t nothing worth shitting on.

    Oh, lord forgive me, for the stupid shit I’ve done… But forgive me more for the stupid shit I HAVEN’T DONE.

  8. Va. Bob Says:

    One wonders if the late Sandy Alexander’s daughter and second wife still maintain a claim to half the proceeds to a sale of the building.About 5 years ago there was a lawsuit about this ,but I haven’t seen anything regarding the final disposition of said lawsuit.

  9. jrino Says:

    Sonny made it perfectly clear years ago it’s all about the money! It ain’t about brotherhood. Get yours at the trough. Why do you think these guys sold their souls to hollyweird… Fuck their is a group of HA working for the “Sons” or “Mayans” You ever seen the Sturgis flicks and tattoo artists from DENVER. It’ about MONEY

  10. Dasein Says:

    So, will they trade up or trade down? Probably not up, sell your house today and you can’t afford to buy it back tomorrow. The MC would seem an odd force for gentrification, but that’s how it seemed to play out here with the neighborhood stability they can bring, and rising property values. Interesting to see the Club’s next move. Maybe they just wanted more parking.

  11. freebird Says:

    That is a fact!!

    Sounds like a lot of money but in reality it is just paper

    If walls could talk of what they have seen, what a story it would be….

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