Perhaps too exuberant a price adjustment?
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17 Hemlock Drive, the original 1902 - 1913 (take your pick, the various listings disagree) “Freestone Castle” and still retaining 4 acres, having failed to sell in 2021 for $9.850 million, has raised its price today to $11.8. That might do it, one never knows, but in my experience, dropping a price to meet buyers’ valuations usually works better than raising the price to goad those buyers to strive harder.
Did these owners take a page from that other castle owner, who we wrote about yesterday? If so, it was an ill-advised decision, probably.
If you’re curious, the previous owner of this rock pile listed it for $11 million in 2005 and sold it to these would-be sellers for $5.5 million in 2017.
NYT, June 22, 1928: GREENWICH, Conn. Archie M. Andrews of Chicago and Pasadena, a well-known yachtsman, has purchased the residence here of Harry H. Frazee, New York theatrical producer. Mrs. Andrews, who has been living in New York City recently, already has taken possession. The property was held at $300,000. Mr. Frazee purchased the residence about two years ago. Known as Freestone Castle, it was built some twenty years ago. Mayor Walker of New York frequently has visited Mr. Frazee here. The sale was made by Allaben & Co., Inc.
The listing for 17 Hemlock Drive expired yesterday and it’s back up today. 1913 construction, with a 13,500 sq. ft. main house and an additional 6,500 sq. ft. dedicated to servants quarters and assorted other dependencies. 4 acres, $9.850 million.
But Wait, There’s More! Fascinating obit and history of Archie M. Andrews, who bought the place in 1928, as noted above. Of note, he bought this house in 1928, lost $80,000,000 in the Crash a year later, and made it back — maybe — keep scrolling at the link for additional obituaries of the man, including one from Greenwich Press, for a bit of local color.
RAGS TO RICHES MARKED CAREER OF A.M. ANDREWS
Electric Razor Promoter a Veritable Barnum New York, June 21 — The amazingly colorful career of "a modern Horatio Alger" came to an end last week when Archie M. Andrews, 59, chairman of the board, Dictograph Products Company, and former chairman, Hupp Motor Car Company, died at his Greenwich, Conn., home after a brief illness.
The story of Andrews' rise from a ten-cents-a-day photographer's apprentice at 16 to a multi-millionair captain of finance at 50 is far more fantastic than the most imaginative novel. Broke in 1929 after the market crash swept away his 80-million dollar fortune, he recouped most of his losses before his death.
Perhaps his most significant contribution was in the electric razor business, in which he was interested through his connection with Dictograph, manufacturer of the Packard shaver. Mr. Andrews, by opposing the late Colonel Jacob Schick in a long series of legal battles involving their respective shavers, dispelled the belief in a Schick monopoly and opened up a new industry.
Uses Promotion Stunts
Further, his dynamic advertising and promotion played a large part in making the country "electric shaver" conscious. The advertising world will long remember the Packard magazine copy which pictured a naked baby and was captioned, "Just an idea of how smooth your face feels after using a Packard Lektro-Shaver."
Aside from Packard's paid advertising, the promotion stunts engineered by Mr. Andrews and his able agent, Arnold Van Leer, attracted still more attention to the infant industry and the Packard product. A parachute jumper shaved the Packard way in mid-air, a six-day bike rider was photographed while using the razor in the midst of a Madison Square Garden race, and reams of publicity pictures and paragraphs were printed the country over.
Mr. Andrews' P.T. Barnum instincts were demonstrated in the promotion of other products in which he was interested. When Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia of New York was in the midst of an anti-noise campaign, Andrews and Van Leer presented His Honor with a new silent radio, with accompanying publicity.
Branded as a stock manipulator and often in the courts, Mr. Andrews was a humanitarian at heart. Dictograph makes the "Acousticon" hearing aid, and he established a free school on Fifth Avenue for deaf children. He took great personal delight in bringing hearing to those unfortunates, and often provided the children with entertainment and parties.
Making money was easy for such a promoter as Mr. Andrews. When he was only 22, he was a stock broker. He admitted later that he had "no capital, no office, and no nothing" but by first finding a seller and then uncovering a buyer to meet the price plus commission, he expanded the business to a national basis and laid the foundation for his fortune.
Retired at 50
He once remarked that before the 1929 debacle, he had a million dollars for each year of his life before lunch and a million and a half for each year after lunch. When asked if he ever knew anybody else with $80,000,000, he answered: "Nope, never did, and probably wouldn't have liked him anyway."
He retired at the age of 50, but soon returned to the wars in the field of banking and business management in 1932. Two years later he became chairman of Hupp, after having been the largest stockholder for 20 years. A bitter fight for control arose and he lost his position in 1935.
At the time of his death, Mr. Andrews was also president of the Progress Corporation, maker of Packard and Roto-Shaver razors; president and chairman of the board, Platinum Products Company; vice-president and director, Lektro-Shave Corporation; treasurer and director, Internation Ticket Scale Corporation; and president, A. M. Andrews Investment Corporation.
Following his first job as a photographer's assistant, he taught banjo lessons at 25 cents each in his native Chicago, and sold papers in front of the Chicago Herald building. In 1920, he bought that building, and later acquired a seat on the Chicago Stock Exchange.
He is survived by his widow and eight children, including an infant son. Among his fraternal affiliations, he was a member of the Advertising Club of New York.
