Not a Secret Society
There is a ritual that takes place each month on a Tuesday evening at 7:30 pm. A select group of Palisades residents gather in an obscure location for a ceremony that will determine a part of their future. They sit in rows of chairs that face a long table but they cannot sit at the long table, which is reserved for officiates rarely known as the HABR-7. At the appointed time the HABR-7 enter the room and the ritual begins. Everyone stands and in unison they utter a pledge. The doors are closed. The master of the HABR-7 calls out the name of a Palisades resident who must either come forward or send a substitute. Someone intones a set of numbers and letters: Section, block and lot designation. The Palisades resident makes his petition to the HABR-7: He wants to replace a kitchen window.
Some readers will by now have recognized this vaguely gothic description as a meeting of the Historic Area Board of Review. Not everyone is affected. It applies to those living in the historic area who wish to make changes to the exterior of their house. Those changes must be approved by the Board of Review. The purpose is simple enough: To protect and preserve buildings and “other objects” that relate to early colonial history, the American Revolution and to nineteenth and early twentieth century Rockland County.
Putting into practice this legislative intent is more difficult than it sounds. It requires the eye of a craftsman, the temperament of an artist, the skill of a brain surgeon and the wisdom of Solomon. After all, a man’s home is his castle and if he wants to paint it orange or double his square footage or replace his front porch with a three-car garage that’s nobody’s business but his own, right?
Wrong, says the HARB-7. While the home belongs to the individual, its history belongs to the community. When my wife and I bought our house in the historic area we wanted to do the usual renovations such as upgrading the kitchen and bathroom. There was some exterior work as well. One such change was the addition of a portico at the front door; another was window replacements that would alter their size and placement. We prepared our materials for the Board of Review: drawings of the proposed changes and relevant examples of similar architectural styles from the period. Local historian Alice Gerard attested to the appropriateness of our proposals.
Although vaguely reminiscent of going before a court — our renovation was in the dock to be judged — the questions the Board asked were relevant, insightful and sympathetic to our desires as well as their mandate.
The seven member Board of Review is composed of citizens appointed to four-year terms by the Town Board. At least one is an architect; all have a background and interest in the architectural history and heritage of our area. Currently, three of the members are from Palisades, four are from Tappan. Decisions require at least two members be present from the particular historic area under review.
It turns out there are various levels of protection afforded historic buildings. Homes built before December 31 1918 are subject to a stricter criteria. A few homes of special significance are listed in the State or National Register of Historic Places whose authority supersedes that of Orangetown. Owners of these homes are eligible for tax breaks and low-cost mortgages as an aid and incentive to maintain them using materials and craftsmanship that are consistent with their original construction.
There is also a lexicon associated with historic preservation: Contributing Structure. Harmonize. Consistent with. Alteration. I imagined a secret language when I heard them during our presentation to the Board of Review. We discussed details like using individual panes in replacement windows rather than plastic inserts. Eventually a vote was taken. It was a public voice vote, not the ominous dropping of stones into a velvet-lined jewelry box, white for “yes,” black for “no.” As we left the inner sanctum of the HABR-7 that night the clouds parted, flooding the parking lot with moonlight. Behind us we heard the agonized screech of metal gates swinging slowly shut. Well, no, nothing so dramatic. We were approved. The renovation could proceed. We went to celebrate and drink a toast to the Board of Review. Palisades remains a special place in no small part due to their protection of its architectural heritage.