10A Bradford Street Condominium.
Capt. Manuel Enos (±1871-1955) was a son of Provincetown and the “last of the Grand Bankers to go out of this port,” as The Advocate said at the time of his death, when he was counted among the “fast vanishing crew of deep water mariners and able skippers of the day of sails.” In his retirement from the sea, he worked for the Vita Fisheries Company on the Town Wharf and managed the Captain Manuel Enos Station in what is now the main house at No. 10A.
James H. Barnett had owned the property in the early 20th century. Deborah Asbrand, who has owned one of the condo units since 1996, said the main house may have been a stable at one time. Barnett sold it to William C. and Mary E. McKinney in 1930. They turned right around and sold it in 1931 to Enos. A 1938 street atlas describes the overall lot as a filling station and the main house as an automobile repair shop. Two gasoline tanks are shown on Bradford Street. (The corner cottage, pictured here, was not yet standing.) Captain Enos evidently ran the place as a convenience store, to judge from an account of a 1941 burglary in which the perpetrators made off with five cartons of cigarettes, three boxes of candy, and ice cream — strongly suggesting the involvement of young boys.
Enos sold the place in 1946 to John R. Anthony, who (with his wife, Celia L. Anthony) sold it in 1950 to Wallace F. Adams and Ernestine M. Adams. Wallace and his wife, Frances C. Adams, acquired the property in 1959. They sold it in 1983 to George C. Scott. Not that George C. Scott; the one who lived in Somerville, Mass. Three years later, Scott sold it to Ralph J. Buliung Jr. and Ralph J. Buliung III, of West Palm Beach, Fla. They sold it in 1994 for $120,000 to Steven R. Page of Springfield, Mass., who turned it into a four-unit condo the next year — three units in the main house and a 441-square-foot unit in the cottage, which has been owned since 2002 by Wendy P. Ferguson and Barbara F. Mrozik of Brooklyn.
Deborah Asbrand wrote on 15 July 2014: I’ve had a little condo there for 18 years. So far as I know, 10A has a quirky history. George Bryant filled me in on the background when he served as my home inspector in 1996, and Ron Souza provided some (actually, many) more details when he worked on my floors a few years back. The tale I’ve heard is a winding one — and I’m not entirely sure of the accuracy — but I’ve been told it was once a stable and then later a gas station owned by a man named Wally [perhaps Wallace F. Adams?] who had lost an arm in a fishing accident.