BY COLE SINANIAN
cole@queensledger.com
ASTORIA — Hulking, eight feet tall, covered in chipping black paint. Up top, two fogged-up glass peep holes, forged from melted down wine and rum bottles. Towards the bottom, an upward pointing arrow carved deep into the pinewood, a symbol once used by the British Army to identify traitors to the Crown.
But in the Thirteen Colonies, these traitors were known rather as “patriots,” and it was behind this massive door — on public display until August 30 at Astoria’s Advance Masonic Temple — that some 261-years ago Revolutionary War colonel and wealthy Queens landowner Jacob Blackwell was placed under house arrest, accused of treason for leading Long Island’s Newtown Militia against the British forces.
“They had a list of names,” said local historian and Queens Ledger contributor Alan Arichavala, who sits on the board of the Astoria Historical Society. “So they would go to their house and they would mark it with an arrow to say this house is now property of the King because the person here is a traitor, and Blackwell was one of them.”
Since July 4, the Astoria Historical Society has put the door on public display for the first time in years, providing a rare glimpse into Astoria’s colonial past and an opportunity for the public to experience the neighborhood’s only Masonic lodge, where the door sits next to an enormous American flag, atop a stage at the back of an event room lined with plastic-covered tables and brightly colored Zodiac paintings.
Lower down on the door, a marking sticks out: the number 5199, written in marker. Not the sort of utensil likely to be found in 18th century Long Island.
According to Arichavala, the Blackwell mansion was set to be demolished by ConEd back in 1901. In preparation for demolition, the Queens County Park Commissioner came to exhume the bodies buried in the property’s cemetery, and found the door, which was then put on display at Rufus King Manor in Jamaica. Later on, the door came into the possession of the Brooklyn Museum, which had kept it in storage for decades. It was sometime during this period, Arichavala says, that the door most likely received its numeric marking.
In the early 2000s — after the door had spent years stored away in the Brooklyn Museum’s bowls — Astoria Historical Society member and fellow Queens historian Richard Melnick drove it up to Astoria on the BQE, an undoubtedly treacherous affair probably not unlike Arichavala and the historical society’s own ordeal getting the door into position.
Tracing its roots back to the 1860s, the Masonic lodge now counts among its ranks several dozen active members. The Masons regularly partner with local organizations, offering up their space for community events and displays like the Blackwell Door. Though esoteric iconography abounds in the lodge’s hallways and stairwells, the Masons are mainly a fraternal brotherhood and not — as popular myth might suggest — a sinister plot for world domination.
If you plan to visit, just make sure not to disturb the meetings that happen on the second floor, or risk a confrotnation with the Tyler, a man whose job is to ensure that the meeting goes “uninterrupted,” Arichavala says, which he does by standing outside while wielding a giant longsword.
