Tina Fineberg for The New York Times  The courtyard of River House on the East Side.  On a recent afternoon, the River Club was far from bustling. The main dining room was closed, so a handful of elderly couples headed to the pool area, where a bar menu was being served. A man using a walker spoke with his lunch companions of a recent trip to an antiques show. An Elsie de Wolfe aesthetic prevailed in several nearby sitting rooms, where the tufted red leather furniture was unoccupied.  Members do not deny that in recent years, the place has appeared to be more shabby than shabby chic. The elevator breaks almost monthly, and the newest book a person can find in the library is likely a 20-year-old Grisham novel. For years, the club has been operating at a loss.  So few were shocked when River House, the storied co-op from which the River Club leases its space, put the property on the block in September. The board listed it at $130 million, offering it as a 62,000-square-foot residence, which would make it the most expensive home in New York City real estate history.  Perhaps more surprising was the reaction of the buildingâs well-heeled residents. In what looks like a case of the rich fighting over how to get richer, the ensuing feud has become, as John Allison, the co-opâs chairman, described it, âa thing of novel proportions.â  One resident, the fashion maven and socialite Deeda Blair, distributed a note warning about the impending demise of the club and what it would do to the character of the building. Meetings have been held almost weekly.  In mid-October, another letter went out to the co-op board with signatures from nearly 40 of the buildingâs owners, many of whom regard the club â with its indoor pool, tennis courts and restaurant â as an essential piece of the buildingâs DNA and a âvalue adderâ to their apartments, which already lag behind Park Avenue and parts of the West Village. Among the residents who lent their names were the former secretary of state Henry Kissinger, the former ambassador Donald Blinken and the former magazine editor (and Bernard Madoff victim) Alexandra Penney.  âPeople who are fanatical about the River Club would say the River Club is the essence of River House,â Mr. Allison said. âThen there are other people who donât feel that at all. Itâs a mixed bag. And itâs complex.â  River House and the River Club were built on the site of a cigar factory in 1930, after the Great Depression had begun but before despair had set in. It was on a cul-de-sac at the edge of East 52nd Street overlooking the East River, and part of the lure for tycoons was that they could moor their yachts just outside the building.  The first president of the board was Kermit Roosevelt, better known as the second son of Theodore Roosevelt. Later, the Franklin D. Roosevelt Drive made boat storage impossible, but residents with pedigreed last names like Hearst and Rockefeller kept rolling in.  They loved the gated cobblestone courtyard where boxwoods predominated and a fountain with Poseidon sprouted water 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Inside, the apartments were both cozy and expansive, with fireplaces and views of the river and the 59th Street Bridge. On the occasions modernity knocked at the door, it was promptly turned away.  In 1980, Gloria Vanderbilt was being squired around town by the singer Bobby Short, who was black. When she tried to buy into the building, the board rejected her. A pitched battle ensued, with Ms. Vanderbilt accusing the building of racism. Carl Mueller, the board president at the time, told People Magazine, âI believe that the ceaseless flow of gossip column items about [Ms. Vanderbiltâs] comings and goings would attract unwelcome publicity to the River House.â  Diane Keaton and Joan Crawford were two other boldface names who received cold receptions. The buildingâs Old World aura has troubled some of its inhabitants. Holly Peterson, the author of a novel about New York society, âThe Manny,â lived there with her father, Pete Peterson, when he moved in some 30 years ago.  This article has been revised to reflect the following correction:  An earlier version of this article repeated an erroneous story about Joan Crawford and the River House Board.Â After she was rejected from the building a theory predominated that she erected a Pepsi sign across the river as revenge. She in fact did not.
The change facing a storied co-op: keep a beloved club or sell the space to the highest bidder?