Hoboken / Manhattan Real Estate Blog

Hoboken developments, others in northeast help ease Toll Brothers’ sag in earnings
By Tom Jennemann

Toll Brothers, Inc., a massive national real estate development firm based in Huntingdon Valley, Pa. with major development interests in Hudson County, reported Tuesday that its third-quarter profits fell 19 percent because of the weakening national housing market.

The company also slashed its earnings estimate for the full year, a sign that the market may not stabilize in the immediate future.

But one of the bright spots in the report was that Toll Brothers’ revenues in the Northeast increased, partially because of the company’s reinvestment into urban areas such as Hoboken and Jersey City.

Toll Brothers reported fiscal third quarter profits of $174.6 million, or $1.07 per share, compared with $215.5 million, or $1.27 per share, in the previous third quarter.

In a statement, Robert I. Toll, chairman and chief executive officer, said that fewer investors are flipping properties for a quick profit, and homes, especially luxury ones, are lingering on the market longer.

“The continuing malaise in the housing market, we believe, is the result of an oversupply of inventory and a decline in confidence,” Toll explained. “The speculative buyers of 2004 and 2005 are now sellers. Builders that built speculative homes are trying to move them by offering large incentives and discounts, and some anxious buyers are canceling contracts for homes already being built.”

Toll added, “This overhang in supply and the aggressive discounting of many builders is undermining consumer confidence and keeping buyers on the sidelines as they continue to worry about the direction of home prices.”

He added that the current environment has led the company to reduce its land position. In total, Toll Brothers now owns or controls approximately 82,900 lots, compared to approximately 91,200 at the end of the second quarter.

“We continue to re-evaluate the lots in our approval pipeline and to renegotiate or drop those options that we believe are no longer attractive,” Toll said.

Toll in Hoboken

In nine months prior to July 31, 2006, Toll Brothers sold 1,070 units in the northeast, as compared to only 793 for the same period in 2005.

Revenue in the northeast was $698 million for the first nine months of 2006 compared to only $447 million for the first nine months of 2005.

Beginning in 2003, the company made a significant investment in urban properties in Hoboken, Jersey City Philadelphia, Chicago, and Providence, R.I. Before that, it had focused on suburban markets.

Their holdings in Hoboken include: the 525-unit Hudson Tea building on the northern waterfront, and the adjoining 758-unit mixed-use expansion at the Hoboken Cove.

They also bought the 832-unit residential “Maxwell Place” development at the former Maxwell House factory on the central waterfront. They purchased most of the Manhattan Building Company and its projects, which include the 324-unit Sky Club on Marshall Drive, and the 230-unit 700 Grove St. project just over the Jersey City border.

In fact, Toll Brothers has established a City Living division, which has its office in Hoboken, to market and sell the Toll Brothers’ condos in and around Hudson County.

By JOHN DEINER
The Washington Post

HOBOKEN, N.J. — For the past two decades, Hoboken — star of 1954’s “On the Waterfront,” birthplace of the zipper and the ice cream cone, victim of a vicious economic downswing in the 1970s — has been busy reinventing itself.

Frank Sinatra was born here, but if he saw it now, he’d probably want to stop spreading the news about “New York, New York.” These days, it’s more “The Way You Look Tonight.” Parks and walking trails have replaced rotting piers, while new construction and renovated brownstones have led to an influx of bars and restaurants. Condos glisten, fountains burble, money is spent.

Hoboken has, in short order, become a contendah.
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Today it’s a city of simple pleasures, worthy of a quick visit if you can tear yourself away from the Big Apple. Frank-ophiles can follow in their idol’s loafers on a walking tour, while stores like Wee Beasties (for pampered tots) and Good Kleen Fun (home of the $6 bath fizzy) peddle doodads to inveterate shoppers. Barhounds may want to sidle up to the rail at Texas Arizona or the Black Bear for people-watching and a pilsner.

Come nightfall, pizza parlors and sushi joints compete for empty stomachs with gastronomic stars such as Amanda’s and Frankie & Johnnie’s. Couples can get a carafe of a fine boxed vintage (Red or white? Does it really matter?) or order up $10 martinis bathed in a neon glow. Club music mingles with Dean Martin, and the later it gets, the louder it becomes.

Still, it ain’t Manhattan. But that’s OK. If New York is the tuxedo of American cities, Hoboken is a stylish pair of weathered Levi’s — with a Ragu stain on the thigh.

The waiter at Leo’s Grandevous, an Italian cubbyhole a few blocks from the hub of activity along Washington Street, is ready with an answer almost before the question is asked.

“Shrimp Sinatra? It’s a mix of artichokes, shrimp and mushrooms, served over pasta. It’ll get your night going,” he says. Leo’s walls are plastered with photos of the Chairman of the Board, and a shrine has been erected over the bar. That’s supposedly Frank’s favorite stool lying on its side above the cash register.

Sinatra, Sinatra, Sinatra. He’s everywhere in Hoboken. You can walk along Frank Sinatra Drive or watch cruise ships steam by Frank Sinatra Park. At Bagels on the Hudson, a creepy caricature of him touts baked goods on a sidewalk sign. For a buck, the Hoboken Historical Museum will sell you “Hoboken: The Sinatra Tour,” a 23-stop journey through the city’s streets. “Don’t expect much at his birthplace and some of the other sites,” warns a volunteer as he hands over the map. “But you’ll still get a good sense of the man.”

Though the area had been settled since Colonial days, the city — nestled in that sweet spot between the Holland and Lincoln tunnels and Jersey City and Weehawken (OK, maybe that’s not so sweet) — was incorporated in 1855. In the 19th and early 20th centuries, it was a thriving shipping and commerce port, and such companies as Lipton Tea and Hostess were based here.

A few signs remain of that not-so-ancient history, with some buildings in disrepair and a skeletal pier jutting into the Hudson. But the Brandoesque longshoremen are long gone, replaced by a curvy pedestrian path that lopes along the river.

Because parts of Hoboken occupy a gentle slope (capped by the Stevens Institute of Technology, on a bluff about 100 feet over the river), walking can be a bit strenuous. But Hobokenites are a sturdy breed, so that’s not enough activity. Hence, there’s a skateboard park on Frank Sinatra Drive, with a kid’s-eye view of the Empire State Building, and down the bend in Sinatra Park, sweaty adults play soccer while onlookers dodge bicyclists. At Pier A — a dock turned green space, with a massive lawn, a fountain and a gazebo — joggers nearly outnumber sunbathers.

Nearby is the city’s Little League field, a pint-size version of a big-league stadium, complete with a fancy scoreboard and plastic seats.

Apparently, the first organized game of baseball was played in Hoboken, though that’s a matter of some dispute. But this is a burg of other indisputable firsts. Some are them head-scratchers (First Woman to Caulk Ships), others cheer-inducing (First Oreo Cookie).

You can’t trudge far in Hoboken without bumping into something Italian, be it person or cannoli. For the latter, there’s Carlo’s City Hall Bake Shop, a few blocks from the Hoboken terminal (a web of light rail, trains and ferries). The bakery has been around since 1910, and from the look of things, many of its patrons were at the grand opening.

After a day of carb-loading at Giovanni’s (greasy, perfect pizza, just the way Mom used to order), Carlo’s and Leo’s, it’s almost a relief when the sun goes down and the bar scene kicks in. Not that the eating is over: Diners are elbow to elbow at sidewalk tables along Washington Street, at fashionable spots such as the Elysian Cafe and Robongi.

As the evening progresses, the hubbub grows louder. At Bahama Mama’s tiki lounge, a bachelorette party is slurring through a song; the bride-to-be is the one in the veil and flashing deeley boppers. A few steps away at the Black Bear, guys pawing longnecks are watching baseball on the pub’s two dozen TVs. The Shannon Lounge, BarNone, McSwiggan’s, Buskers: Anything that serves Miller Lite on tap is jammed.

Off the main strip at Willie McBride’s, a limo is parked out front and a crowd has gathered on the sidewalk. A celebrity, perhaps? Nah, just a bunch of New Jerseyites suffering through the state’s new indoor smoking ban.

The Brass Rail is, by contrast, eerily tranquil. A disk jockey is positioned near the door, though, and he’s pacing, clearly tired of the easy-listening tunes hanging in the air. At 11:01, he approaches a bartender, smiles and says, “OK, enough of this. Let’s crank it up.”