On Newtown Lane Rents Rise, Renters Retreat

For Colin Mahar, it’s his third rent increase in as many years.

In 2012, Mr. Mahar moved from Paris to East Hampton to run Harper’s Books, a rare-book shop on Newtown Lane.

He soon settled into one of the eight apartments above Mary’s Marvelous, drawn to the nearby building’s central location, its proximity to the grocery store and train station, and above all, its affordability. For the first year that Mr. Mahar lived there, he paid $1,150 a month.

But when new owners purchased the building in 2013, his rent increased to $1,500, and late last year it went up to $1,650. Recently, he and several tenants received word of yet another rent hike. Come January, his one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment will cost $1,850, with newer tenants paying upward of $2,000 a month.

“Each time the rent increases, people leave,” said Mr. Mahar, 48, during a recent afternoon lull at the bookstore. “I can’t afford to move, and I can’t afford to stay.”

Apartments in East Hampton Village are few and far between, with the second and third floors of 105 Newtown Lane making it one of East Hampton’s only “high-rises,” whose location combines both urban convenience and rural charm.

The dearth of affordability, however, is an ongoing concern, with renters, caught in the crosshairs of a seasonal market, unable to gain a stable toehold.

“There’s a huge disconnect between the homeowners and those who do not own a place,” said Tom Ruhle, East Hampton Town’s director of housing and community development. “Renters are the people working two jobs to pay their rent, only to find that it’s going up again.” Mr. Ruhle sees the lack of affordable housing as detrimental to businesses in need of a local workforce.

Alejandra Lucci, 37, who co-owns East Hampton Flowers on North Main Street, has lived in one of the second-floor units since 2012. Over the past four years, her monthly rent has increased by $650. As a business owner, the affordable housing shortfall poses a very real worry. “What happens when a business can no longer find employees because they can’t afford to live here?”

105 Newtown Lane reminds the native of Colombia of old black-and-white movies she used to watch, when neighbors freely went etween each other’s homes.  On weekday nights, Mr. Mahar loves to cook impromptu meals, his door left ajar. And on weekend mornings, Ms. Lucci may knock on a neighbor’s door to borrow an onion for eggs or syrup for pancakes.

Apartment living allows for plentiful social interaction, a particular draw during the quiet winter months, when free refills of coffee at Mary’s are but one flight of stairs away. On nights when Ms. Lucci leaves her shop with extra flowers, she leaves small bouquets on her neighbor’s doorsteps.

“Maybe I don’t see the value money-wise, but there’s a social value to being able to walk anywhere and be around people,” she said. She plans to stay put. 

Simon and Ines Cruceta used to occupy one of the second-floor apartments and would often leave fruit or dessert on Ms. Lucci’s doorstep. For nearly 16 years, the couple called the building home. Once it changed hands and their monthly rent increased to $1,650, they could no longer afford it.

“If it hadn’t been for the rent increase, we would have still been there,” said Mr. Cruceta, 51, an employee at True Value Hardware in East Hampton for the past 15 years. Ms. Cruceta, 57, who cleans houses, said, “You work only to pay the rent and pay the bills.”

The building, which sits at the corner of Newtown Lane and Railroad Avenue, dates to 1923. In the two storefronts now occupied by Mary’s Marvelous used to be Bucket’s Deli, and before that, Cavagnaro’s Bar. Elegant Touch, a nail salon, occupies the third storefront.

Besides the commercial space and second and third-floor apartments, the quarter-acre property also includes a garage and four-bedroom house in the rear. In December 2013, Newtown Railroad L.L.C., which is registered with the Department of State as a Bridgehampton-based corporation, purchased it for $5 million.

Jack and Gusty Folks, who are among its owners, refused to comment, referring to the group of buyers as “under-the-radar kind of people.”

 For the Crucetas, the hunt for a new place to live was not easy. The couple eventually moved into a more affordable complex on Springs-Fireplace Road, where they have a one-bedroom apartment costing $1,380 a month.

They miss living in town, they said, and more than that, the open-door policy among a group of year-rounders who look after each other, whether in need of a cup of milk or a beach umbrella.

One of 105 Newtown’s newer tenants, Dominique Pontecorvo, 40, moved in with her 6-year-old son in early spring. Her “cute, clean, but tiny” apartment fetches $2,000 per month. Ms. Pontecorvo, who owns a restaurant in Montauk, enjoys living in close proximity to her neighbors. Other than the lack of a washer and dryer, her only complaint concerns parking; namely, that there is none.

 She and several neighbors alternate between parking in the long-term lot or behind Suffolk County National Bank, agreeing to move their cars early each morning.

“Coming from a house, some places were asking $3,000 or more per month,” said Ms. Pontecorvo. “I like the idea of having people you live near who have your back and help you to feel safe.”

Shaye Weaver, 28, formerly occupied a third-floor unit facing Newtown Lane. A native of Atlanta, it was the first apartment she had lived in on her own. In 2011, when she moved in, it cost her $1,100 each month. John and Barbara Cavagnaro, the previous owners, would increase her yearly rent in small, predictable increments. But when new owners took over, Ms. Weaver was living paycheck to paycheck, she said, and the rent increase became too much.

Though a group of residents banded together, signing and sending a formal letter to protest the sudden increase, their pleas were unsuccessful. Ms. Weaver, who was working as a reporter for The East Hampton Press, moved for a time to an apartment in Springs. She now lives in Brooklyn and works for DNAInfo, an online news service.

Besides Christmastime on Newtown Lane, she misses the community she found there, the bouquets that Ms. Lucci would leave at her doorstep when she was racing to meet a deadline, the open-door policy of Mr. Mahar, and the dinner parties he would frequently host.

With Christmas lights he never bothered to take down and guitars perched in the corner, Mr. Mahar calls his apartment “the most bohemian spot in East Hampton Village.”

Every resident of the building, current or former, fondly recalled the sounds of the nearby Long Island Rail Road, and the distinct preferences of two conductors.

“There’s a very enthusiastic driver who roars on his horn at 4 o’clock in the morning,” said Mr. Mahar. “Another driver gives a cursory toot-toot. It feels like the Old West when you hear the train coming. It’s kind of romantic.”

No matter the nostalgia, Mr. Mahar is now on the hunt for a more affordable option. “Come January, I will be earning just enough to live here, but I will just be breaking even,” he said. “At 48, I can’t be living hand-to-mouth.”