When the Schvitz reopens sometime before the end of the year, patrons of the health club might feel they are stepping back into a different era.

The Schvitz (Yiddish for "sweat"), on Oakland Avenue in Detroit's North End neighborhood, is warm, detail-oriented and architecturally magnificent. Its interior feels old, well-worn, but also loved, unlike the sterile, almost faux-luxurious, feel of more modern spas.

And the Schvitz comes with a gloriously notorious reputation as a bathhouse frequented by Prohibition-era mobsters and much later by swingers.

Originally opened in 1930 — it was a Jewish community center even before that — the Schvitz has cycled through a series of owners and identities.

More Detroit news:

Will Gilbert's tower signal next recession or start of a building boom?

Detroit pump-up video for Amazon's HQ2 portrays city as vibrant, upbeat, on the go

In the 1930s it was tied to the infamous Purple Gang, a Jewish mob known for bootlegging and hijacking. In the '60s and '70s it had a reputation for being a home to bookkeepers and gamblers and was said to be under FBI surveillance. From the '80s on it was tethered to a reputation as a swinger club, notorious for raucous parties with films like "Deep Throat" playing in the projection room where guests hunkered down in cushy, leather reclining chairs.

Through it all, however, the club and its steam rooms have been a space for camaraderie, cleansing, and relaxation in low-key, hush-hush environs. These constants are what new owners Paddy Lynch, Jessie Nigl and Alan Havis, hope to capture and build upon.

With plans to re-open the space by the end of the year, after purchasing the historic building in March, the trio held an open house Sunday to showcase the North End gem. It was a chance to celebrate the building's long and rich past while promising a new era to come.

"The Schvitz has got a life of its own," said Lynch, a friendly 33-year-old, who spends his days as a funeral director at his family's business Lynch & Sons. "It's gonna outlive all of us. We're at this point, the caretakers of what it is here in the North End. It's survived a lot of struggle."

The club was opened in 1930 by Harry Meltzer Jr., as a place for observant Russian Jews to go on the Sabbath to detox and purify their minds and souls.

It was one of the several bathhouses that dotted Detroit at the time. There was Alfred Baths, Farnsworth (which according to an old Detroit Free Press article was nicknamed "the black hole of Calcutta,") Winder, Vernor, Wayne Baths, Trumbull and DeSoto.

Today, the Schvitz, which had gone by the name the Oakland Health Club for several years, is the only one standing.

Meltzer was associated with the infamous Jewish mob, the Purple Gang, which ruled Detroit's underworld in the 1920s and '30s, and it quickly got a reputation for being a hangout for mobsters and bootleggers.

"The Purple Gang likely spent a great deal of time in the bathhouse, evidenced by the numerous bullet holes in a painting in the lobby," a 2013 paper by the University of Michigan's Taubman College of Architecture and Urban Planning on the North End neighborhood observed. "The baths may have served as a watering hole for the gang during Prohibition because of its status as a private club, which placed it outside of direct police scrutiny."

For almost five decades, the bathhouse was owned by the Meltzer family. In 1976, the Schvitz went through a bank foreclosure and was sold for $15,000 to Carl Weiner, Ronald Tomaszewski and Hy Jacobs. The trio spent $500,000 on repairs to the building, which at the time had 140 code violations, according to a 1980 Detroit Free Press article. Business had also dropped significantly around the time of the foreclosure because of rumors of FBI surveillance that many involved in bookmaking activities met up there.

The new owners continued to revel in the old ways of the traditional bathhouse. Platzas, which are 10-minute scrubs with an oak leaf broom, remained as one of the offerings. Men-only sessions also continued. The Schvitz, however, also opened up its clientele, with the second Saturday of the month being reserved for mixed couples.

Swingers' club became a new part of its identity.

While the new owners hope to build on the Schvitz' history, Swingers Nights won't be part of its future.

When the club opens, it will have nights for just men, nights for just women and a few nights that will be co-ed, where swimsuits will be required.

For regulars who have been coming to the spot for decades, the changes are welcomed so long as the space can continue to be used.

Havis, one of Lynch's business partners, has been going to the Schvitz for nearly four decades, starting when he was in law school downtown. The spot was an important place, where he'd meet his father and great-uncle regularly. It was a place to unwind, but also to bond.

This sense of camaraderie was reiterated by many regulars who attended Sunday's open house.

"When I grew up if you had told me I'd be good friends with Chaldeans, I wouldn't be sure what to expect," said Schvitz regular Howard Manela, who is Jewish, but says he likes to go the Schvitz on Thursdays when many of the regulars are a group of Chaldean men.

Manela notes that Havis's father was also a good friend of his.

"There are spirits here, souls here," he said.

This sense of history, tight-knit friendships and a chance to unwind was something that Lynch, who lives in nearby in Arden Park, picked up on when he first visited the Schvitz. It was there that he met Havis and the other regulars. Having someone on the team who knew the history of the building and felt committed to preserving that history was important.

"He's old-guard," Lynch said, explaining that he plans to have Havis and Nigl, who has a background in hospitality, run the day-to-day operations, while he will work to restore the building and its architecture (Lynch is passionate about historic architecture, for the past six years he's been working to renovate the former Kresge Estate, a 10,000-square-foot English-style mansion he purchased in 2011).

Prices are still being figured out, however, Lynch said he thinks they will be about $25-$35 for a day, or $100 a month membership.

How the Schvitz will integrate into the North End neighborhood isn't clear just yet.

Blighted buildings and empty lots strewn with trash are part of the neighborhood's reality, as is unemployment and poverty. But so is renewed interest as development pushes north from Midtown. A house a few blocks down from the Schvitz on Melbourne Street, for example, is today selling for $165,000. Four years ago, Zillow listed its price at $11,000.

The shift is bittersweet, as existing residents worry they will be pushed out of the neighborhood by escalating real estate prices that translate into unaffordable rents.

David Boggon, who runs Reflection Shoe Shine, a business down the street, is excited about the increased foot traffic but wary about what it can mean for him down the line.

"It will bring more opportunities for things to happen in the neighborhood," Boggon said. But he's worried that his landlord will eventually put him out of the building, which he currently rents for $300 a month.

"I'm nervous that when they fix it up that is when I'll get booted. Right now, I believe I am a safety net so that no one will destroy the building," said Boggon, who says his family has owned a shoeshine business in the neighborhood since 1949, with many associating him with his uncle's company Red's Jazz Shoe Shine Parlor, a landmark on the street.

But Lynch's mother, Mary Callaghan Lynch, said her son is being thoughtful in his approach.

"He's really committed to the City of Detroit and particularly the North End," she said. "He's embraced the surrounding community to become part of the Schvitz the wider city."

"This may sound hokey," she said, "but it's almost like a ministry for Paddy."

While the family is Irish Catholic, there is a deep respect for the bigger spiritual world, and honoring the building's origins as a Jewish bathhouse is important. More notably, there is a desire to turn back to ancient customs and traditions to unplug, unwind and connect human-to-human.

"Simply put, the Schvitz is an old-world institution, where good people retreat, relax, unwind, and eventually depart better than they came," Lynch wrote in a paper distributed to guests Sunday. "We're honored and happy to look after this hidden gem, and to share it with each other, the North End, the wider Detroit community, visitors and guests far and wide. Esto perpetua: may she endure forever."