To drive streets like Oak Tree and Closter and Washington Spring is to travel through time. Look closely at the houses and you see the original structure within the extensions added over the years, each during a different time period, each for a different purpose. Multi-paned windows with original glass reflecting a wavy world. Brick chimneys. Doors of odd proportion. A friendly front porch facing its neighbors. The homes reflect the history of Palisades. Each has its own unique identity. It’s a public, not private, identity open and available to everyone passing by. Our historic district is vulnerable. It is attractive because it has escaped demolition and development. Attractive equals marketable. Marketable equals profitable and here comes the developer like a two-legged panther hunting his own brand of prey. His eye narrows when he spots a vacant lot. An old home with peeling paint makes his mouth water. A river view causes his fingers to curl in anticipation. He will gladly tear down an old home with its hand-hewn beams and long history and replace it with an oversized house stuffed to the limits of its lot line and big enough to block the view of its neighbors.

I’m sure the developer would say he’s merely realizing the true potential of the land. Giving work to carpenters. Contracts to demolition crews. Adding to the tax base. Does it ever occur to him that demolishing an old home to exploit its historic location helps destroy that very history? Some developers are sensitive to these issues but others seem all too eager to plunder what others struggle to preserve. Old homes owe their existence to people who maintain them. Renovation is more expensive than razing and building anew. But some things cannot be built anew. Time cannot be purchased. History cannot be bought. Nobody can build a hundred year old home.

I find a quiet satisfaction in old houses with their unexpected nooks and crannies and idiosyncratic additions. I take odd comfort in their uneven floors and creaking stairs. I value the superior quality of their materials and craftsmanship. For me an old house is essential. New homes leave me cold no matter how many multiple rooflines, multicar garages, cathedral ceilings, gilt-edged jacuzzis, Greek columns and parade of palladium windows they boast. If I won such a house in a raffle I’d sell it and wait quietly on the corner of Closter and Oak Tree until a home in Palisades became available. I don’t mean to disparage “luxury” homes (inevitably located in “estates” or“manors”) or homes that offer a maximum amount of space for the money. Each serves a purpose and a pocketbook and a preference. My point is this: There are a limited number of historic homes in America. As the population swells, as fires, natural disasters, deterioration and developers take their toll, the proportion of historic houses in regard to population shrinks. Those who cherish old homes and choose to live in a historic district with its attendant building restrictions and higher maintenance costs ought to have the opportunity to do so.

I once drove through Alpine and was depressed for days. I had this nightmare of being lost in a labyrinth of palladium windows, each one higher, bigger, brighter, larger, wider than the next. It reminded me of a slogan I once saw out west: Don’t Californicate Oregon. I woke up thinking: Don’t Palladiumate Palisades. The process may have already begun in the former golf range off 9W, although in this case the developer is not destroying existing homes. But there must be some sort of predatory instinct at work that causes a developer when he sees a golf course or swimming pool or the IBM Conference Center to imagine another Alpine. Land is valuable. I just wish our original Palisades homes were considered equally valuable. If a condominium replaced the Community Center, it would generate a nice profit for somebody but we would be the poorer for it. There are regulations designed to protect the architectural heritage of Palisades but they are limited. The current economic depression has slowed the pace of development but they will come again, the developers, as the population rises and the economy rebounds. In a future issue I’ll review what protections are now in place and examine other ideas for historic preservation. If you have any thoughts on the subject feel free to email me at RA10964@aol.com.