As published in Dollars & Sense
A vast scene of imposing factories and warehouses – freshly painted to cover up years of graffiti – flood the landscape along Flushing Avenue, stripping the neighborhood of the quaintness it once had. The neighborhood, once a lush green – full of grass and trees – has been taken over by the lesser known industrial side of Queens. Instead of concrete, asphalt and trucks, you would have seen farmers, horses and forests. There was, however, a time – before there was such a thing as Flushing Avenue and long before the industrial revolution – when this block was nothing but wide open space. Three hundred years ago a Dutch colonial farmhouse was erected here. And three hundred years later, hidden among the factories, it is still standing. “We never got to see the place when I was a kid because the shrubs were so overgrown around the property,” said Dennis Laughlin, who grew up near the house until 1965.
To the residents of Ridgewood, Queens, the House, officially known as the Vander Ende-Onderdonk House, is more than an old home; it is a slice of New York history. It is so much a part of the neighborhood’s history that to this day, local schools and Boy Scout troops still organize trips there. It is such a part of New York that in the late 1970’s, the local residents of Ridgewood and Bushwick rallied to stop it from being torn down. “People literally came out here and stopped the leveling with their bodies,” said Arthur Kirmss, the resident artisan and curator of the house.
Built in 1709, the house is still, more or less, in its original state.
Through the authentic Dutch doors, visitors are welcomed by the smell of old wood and the sight of some of the basic staples of colonial life, from the original brick-and-mortar Dutch oven to the musket rifle standing in the corner. The yard is home to a few pieces of weathered and broken down farm equipment. The wagon just sits there withstanding years of rain, snow and heat and the brittle, cracked wood shows it.
The back yard imposes on its visitors an undeniable juxtaposition not found in most people’s everyday lives. To the left, looking over the Mulberry tree, you will see the tops of local factories. And just past the rim of Arthur Kirmss’ replica Dutch colonial hat, the cars parked on Onderdonk Avenue seem incongruous. “I was just exploring on my bike and taking pictures when I happened upon the house. I was first struck at how out of place it appeared, amidst some rough looking factories,” said James Turek, a Brooklyn resident visiting the house.
After the last member of the Onderdonk family moved out and before it was declared a national landmark in 1977, the house had a busy history, ranging the gamut of human existence. It housed a scrap glass business, the office of a greenhouse company and a speakeasy. But more strikingly, it served as a factory making spare parts for the Apollo space program. “I had no idea, it’s amazing to know that our neighborhood was a part of something as great as the Apollo program,” said Michael Daniluk, a 24-year old resident of Ridgewood.
The face of the house, however, has not been untouched by the hand of time. “We have had to keep the shutters closed the past few weeks due to some minor vandalism,” said Kirmss. This is not the first experience that the house has had with vandalism. On the second floor, where the children’s tours usually end with arts and crafts, there are small, yet visible, holes in the roof. The roof, which was changed to tar, had to be restored after a vandal set fire to the house in the early 1980’s. The restoration allowed the Greater Ridgewood Historical Society, which now calls the Onderdonk house its home, to return the roof to its original wooden-shingle style.
Although the house concentrates on the New York of three hundred years ago, stepping into it is not a total trip to the early 1700’s. The house has exhibited the art of Denise Martinez, a Bronx born artist. “The modern art they are showing suggests they are allowing new life into the house and not just trying to keep an exact replica of how things may have looked,” said Turek.
According to Kirmss, should you have passed the house 250-years ago, you may have seen “redemptioners” (criminals given a second chance), in their iron collars, working the land outside the stone walls. This year, those very walls celebrate their 300th birthday. You surely would have not seen a car parked in the driveway, but rather a horse drawn carriage. And you definitely would not have seen any trace of a factory. It is this aspect of the house that makes it so grand. It is not necessarily the view into the past, but actually seeing the differences laid out right before your eyes.