Where were the gated mansions that line the cul-de-sacs of her new neighborhood? The winding roads? The wind-whipped trees? Where, most pressingly, were the foliage-filled views from atop the city’s rolling hills?
“You think New York is tall buildings,” said Ms. Hortenhuber, who recently began a year as an au pair to three young children. “I didn’t know there were so many trees.”
The mistake is understandable: If maps did not insist on it, Ms. Hortenhuber’s new neighbors in Todt Hill on Staten Island might struggle to convince friends that their large and tranquil plots lie in a city renowned for its bustle and its dearth of affordable space.
Yet the area’s most defining characteristic may be topographical: At 390 feet above sea level, Todt Hill’s elevation, as measured by the Staten Island borough president’s office, is the highest natural point on the Eastern Seaboard south of Maine, according to the United States Geological Survey.
As many New Yorkers fretted before Tropical Storm Irene over their proximity to what the city designated Zone A, the low-lying areas most vulnerable to flooding, Todt Hill residents said they fancied themselves inhabitants of an unofficial Zone Z — with homes a vertical football field’s length from any body of water.
While some parts of Todt Hill (pronounced “tote”) did lose electricity when falling trees knocked down power lines, many inhabitants said they welcomed some of the damage: It left them with better views of the ocean.
For longtime occupants, Todt Hill and the neighboring Emerson Hill may be best known for two phenomena: their affluence and their Mafia history. Paul Castellano, the head of the Gambino crime family before he was killed in 1985, reputedly on orders of John Gotti, owned a home on Benedict Road. Its design, according to legend, was intended to replicate the White House: two columns flank the front door, behind a fountain in the middle of a circular driveway.
The ethos of extravagance has persisted. Many driveways accommodate three or more vehicles. Swimming pools nearly consume entire backyards. Homes seem to have added floors in descending order of size, like layers on a wedding cake.
“All that’s missing is two figurines on top,” Ella Goldin, a Todt Hill resident for six years, said of a neighbor’s house.
Connie Profaci, one of the area’s prominent Realtors, said the neighborhood’s prestige was one of its greatest assets.
“You have your own private school, your own country club,” Ms. Profaci said, citing Staten Island Academy and the Richmond County Country Club. “It’s very self-sufficient.”
The area, however, has not been immune to a depressed market. One of Ms. Profaci’s current listings, an English Tudor at 110 Longfellow Road in Todt Hill, doubled as the Corleone compound during filming of “The Godfather.” With eight bedrooms and a pub in the basement, it went on the market in December for $2.9 million, according to published reports. Today, Ms. Profaci’s Web site gives the listing price as $2.25 million.
Some residents lamented that the neighborhood lacked camaraderie, which Ms. Goldin attributed to its many properties hidden behind tall hedges and trees.
“We don’t have sidewalks,” said Ms. Goldin, whose cliff-side home, bought for $1.45 million, overlooks the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. “It’s not very conducive to bringing people pumpkin pies.”
The hill’s elevation, at least, has its practical advantages. Felicia Marrow, 47, described her perch on Emerson Avenue as “another world.” She was not kidding. The exterior temperature reading on her dashboard, she explained, rises as she descends from the neighborhood. Residents also said they experienced more snowfall in winter.
For many, privacy is the primary attraction. Peter Cea, 73, said he and his wife stumbled upon Todt Hill after making a wrong turn off the Staten Island Expressway 16 years ago. Taken by its serenity, Mr. Cea said he told her on the spot that he wanted a house there.
“It’s paradise,” he said last week as he worked in his garage. “No cars, no traffic. Nobody parks in front of the house.”
One Benedict Road homeowner, who declined to give his name, celebrated his block’s resemblance to a New York neighbor.
“It’s just so beautiful here,” he said, puffing a cigarette in front of the 20,000-square-foot mansion he built eight years ago. “It’s like New Jersey.”