New Yorkers Who Love Where They Live

NEW YORK — It wouldn’t be wrong to say that Antonina Munz FitzGerald likes her apartment building, but what a pale declaration. You might just as well say that Kim Kardashian likes her Instagram account.

In fact, FitzGerald loves, loves, loves her building, Plaza 400, a 40-story postwar co-op in the Sutton Place area. Let her count the ways.

It’s self-managed, which keeps the maintenance more than manageable, with utilities included. Shareholders also get a good deal on cable. There’s abundant security, a pool on the roof, a freshly upgraded lobby and handymen who, stunningly enough, according to FitzGerald, are every bit as handy as her late husband.

The building also has a new logo, “which has a nice modern look,” said itzGerald, 76, who until her retirement was an executive assistant to a judge in the appellate division of New York state court. It must be said that when it comes to her Plaza 400, she takes favorable note of everything. This includes the doormen, who are clad in dark gray, a recent change from black. “They look very well dressed,” she said. “Who can resist a man in a uniform?”

“I always tell my friends they should move in here,” FitzGerald said. “I’m doing it sincerely. I don’t get anything for it. It’s just how I feel about my building.”

New Yorkers who rhapsodize about where they live and who encourage friends and strangers to live there are a rare breed. “The city can be a cold, hard place, so many people look at their building as a warm, cozy place that’s a safe haven, but for the majority of residents, that’s as far as it goes,” said Kathy Braddock, a managing director at William Raveis New York City. “They say ‘good morning’ to people they see in the lobby, and they don’t feel the need to say a whole lot more.”

Then there are the outliers, on one side the residents who complain about absolutely everything in the building, and on the other side, those who, if subjected to withering cross-examination, would confess that they felt a bit of a pang when a doorman strike was recently averted. Trash removal duties would have afforded them a chance to spend time with the neighbors.

They’re the organizers: the first people to submit their proxy for the co-op or condo board election; the first to volunteer for Halloween and holiday parties; the planners in chief for a gathering in honor of the retiring doorman. FitzGerald, for example, is part of a group that’s been working to establish a “life line” system for older residents in her building. She has also been instrumental in organizing an annual potluck dinner.

“These people see the building as an extension of family,” Braddock said. “And when it’s for family, you do all you can.”

To be clear, building cheerleaders aren’t foolishly mindless in their enthusiasm. They don’t wave their pompoms about just anything. And while it’s true that they may be crazy about their buildings, they may not necessarily regard their specific apartments as perfect in every aspect. This is New York after all. Everything is a compromise. But these people are looking at the big picture. “There are two types of buildings in New York, one that’s community-based and one whose residents are more inward-facing,” said Richard Grossman, the president of the real estate firm Halstead. “If you feel you’re part of a community, you’re going to think your place is perfect because you feel you belong there.”

Often, what some see as a problem in the building, cheerleaders see as an opportunity. “The elevators may often be packed, but because these people have made it a point to know all their neighbors, they’re so busy talking to them that they don’t even notice how crowded it is,” Grossman said.

There are benches and tables in the courtyard at Berkshire Green, a co-op in Elmhurst, Queens. For that residents can thank their fellow shareholder Haley Dercher, who moved into the building with her husband, Aaron Krasnick, in September 2016.

“There was nothing in the courtyard and it was sort of taking forever for the co-op board and the management company to get on it and the weather was getting too nice,” said Dercher, 32, who works in marketing for a data company.

Finally, she and a neighbor stepped unto the breach, splitting the cost of several pieces of outdoor furniture (and keeping that contribution anonymous — until now). “It was our gift to the building,” Dercher said. “This is my home. I want to make it great for everyone.” She and her husband bought their 1 1/2-bedroom apartment because of the light, the moldings and the hardwood floors — even if there isn’t a single one that’s level. They knew they had made the right choice when they went to their first shareholder meeting.

“Everyone was sweet, mostly our age, mostly first-time homeowners,” said Dercher, who is the vice president of the board. “There was a sense of community that people often say they’re moving to the suburbs to find. I love this building.”

She loves that a group of mothers hang out once a week after putting their babies to bed and that at almost every board meeting there’s news of a birth. “A few of us each choose a night and take dinner to the parents,” said Dercher, who often posts an invitation to shareholders on the building’s Facebook page to join her for a glass of wine in the courtyard.

“It’s not really in my nature to be a cheerleader for something,” she added. “I’m not generally ‘this is the most, the best, the greatest,’ but I do feel that way about my building.”

So much so that when she sees prospective residents walking around the property, she invites them over to look at her apartment. “I want them to see the potential,” said Dercher, who can easily envision staying in the building when she’s ready to upsize. Shelby Cinelli, who lives at River & Warren, a condo in north Battery Park City said she would be the first to say if there were a problem in her building. But since she moved into a four-bedroom apartment two years ago, she hasn’t had a single issue. The staff is attentive, the neighbors are warm, her two children have lots of playmates right on-site.

Cinelli has played a large role in creating the family-friendly vibe she was seeking in a New York building. Less than thrilled with the tentative plans the sponsor had for the building’s playroom — “He wanted to put a TV in there, and I didn’t like that” — she formed a committee of like-minded fellow residents. They convinced the sponsor to give them the money he had earmarked for the space, “and we did the playroom ourselves,” said Cinelli, 37, a stay-at-home mother.

She followed up with the formation of a committee to arrange a Halloween party, an event that included entertainment and snacks for the children and wine and beer for the adults.

The event’s success led Cinelli and some friends to arrange a catered holiday party in the lobby complete with a visit from Santa Claus, and subsequently, an end-of-summer “welcome home” party and barbecue on the building’s rooftop. “I like to be involved,” said Cinelli, whose involvement extends to encouraging others to buy in the building. One of her friends has already done so. “And when I’m in the elevator and I see a broker with clients, I’ll tell them all the reasons they should move in,” she said.

Was it when Steven Sladkus raved to strangers about his family’s co-op on the Upper East Side for the 20th time? Or was it, perhaps, the 100th? Whatever. At some point, his wife, Stephanie, told him to cool it.

Well, good luck with that. The couple’s two children “will be like ‘Oh, Daddy, we’re going upstairs’ when I’m in the lobby or outside schmoozing with would-be residents, but most people like my cheerleading,” said Sladkus, 48, a real estate lawyer, who is especially bullish on his building’s high ceilings and the thick soundproofing concrete sandwiched between each floor.

He has breath enough to brag even when he’s on the elliptical in the building’s gym, and a sales agent comes in with clients. “While I’m exercising and sweating, I’m giving a full dissertation on how great the building is and encouraging them to move in,” said Sladkus, who bought his apartment 12 years ago, and who, needless to say, knows the name of pretty much everyone in the 52-unit co-op. “I tell people that we allow washers and dryers and dogs and cats and rabbits.”

Perhaps he’s guilty of being overenthusiastic, Sladkus said, “but I don’t think I’ve turned off a buyer — at least no broker has ever told me so.” Besides, he added, “I don’t blindly love everything in the building. I don’t always love the floral arrangements in the lobby. We had a tree in a pot in the lobby that I didn’t like, but fortunately it lived a short life.”

Sladkus has a kindred spirit in Josh Silber, a personal injury lawyer and the board president of the Kenilworth, a co-op on East 80th Street. “As the board president, if I’m not the building’s biggest cheerleader, I’m doing something wrong,” said Silber, 46. “But it was my enthusiasm for the building that got me on the board in the first place.”

When there are open houses, he shows up, and introduces himself to the attendees. He will tell them that the shareholders are friendly, that although it’s a tall building (26 floors), it has the feel of a small building and that it’s the direct opposite of stodgy.

Fellow shareholders can count on Silber to turn up at the rooftop summer gatherings, and he has never missed a holiday or trick-or-treating at Halloween. “But,” he said: “I’m not in costume. I go as a lawyer.”