Keeping History Alive: The Tale of Jans Martense Schenck House That May Annoy Certain Liberals

Keeping History Alive: The Tale of Jans Martense Schenck House That May Annoy Certain Liberals

The Jans Martense Schenck house is a living relic of American history, erected in 1675, showcasing Dutch colonial craftsmanship and pioneering grit, and posing a cultural challenge. Let's explore how this ancient house embodies foundational American values.

Vince Vanguard

Vince Vanguard

Keeping History Alive: The Tale of Jans Martense Schenck House That May Annoy Certain Liberals

Imagine a house built so long ago that the United States wasn't even a glimmer in the founding fathers' eyes. That's the Jans Martense Schenck house, a precious piece of history erected in the wilds of 17th-century America by Jans Martense Schenck himself. The Schenck house, finished in 1675, represents a blend of Dutch colonial construction and pure tenacity, located originally in what is now Brooklyn, New York. But this isn't just any old house—it's one of the oldest standing structures in the state, and very possibly the country. Now, let’s dive into what makes this house a symbol of American determination.

First up, Jans Martense Schenck was a Dutch immigrant who landed in what was then New Amsterdam, stretching the limits of urban development in the New World. Back then, brave souls ventured into rugged territory as Schenck did in 1650, carving out his place in history. The house he built wasn't just four walls and a roof; it stood as a testament to the pioneering spirit so often celebrated—except by those who prefer revisionist narratives.

This house has seen the passage of over 350 years, bearing witness to the ebbs and flows of American growth. It's a slice of Dutch heritage holding firm in a tumultuous sea of social change. The fact this house has survived this long is a remarkable feat. Let that sink in for a moment. Yet in today’s era of quick fixes and disposable everything, the lessons embedded in Schenck’s stone walls about resilience and craft get sidelined.

Interestingly, the Jans Martense Schenck house was moved brick by brick to the Brooklyn Museum. Some might say, “Why not leave it be?” yet it makes perfect sense to preserve this heritage for others to see. If you can't go to history, then history must be brought to you. And gallery visitors aren't just staring at bricks and mortar; they’re seeing how foundational America was laid down by hearty pioneers when the going was anything but easy.

The house's construction is itself an education. These pioneer-era homes were built with practicality in mind. The roof slopes down low, cutting through harsh winter winds like a knife through butter. The massive chimneys speak to a time when warmth wasn't a thermostat away, but rather a daily necessity one earned. You can see in each plank and beam the result of painstaking labor and an ethos of self-sufficiency, which may perplex those who believe modern comforts came without cost.

But let's talk preservation. Here comes the real kicker. Enshrined within the Brooklyn Museum, this house resists the tide of erasure plaguing today's historical discourse. It's here for all Americans to learn from, showing the importance of preserving legacy amid an increasingly disposable culture. This house challenges people—kids and adults alike—to understand where they came from so they know where they should be headed.

In our rapidly changing world, where even history isn't safe from editing, isn't it refreshing to see something stand tall? The Schenck house quietly challenges the absurdly PC rewriting of American history encouraged by some. It's a testament to unshakable values—family, hard work, endurance. These aren’t concepts that need to be discarded like yesterday’s newspaper, contrary to some popular progressive thinking.

This brings us to a question at the heart of opposing the winds of fleeting trends: what does this house mean for America today? It means everything. It's a reminder of who laid the groundwork for our freedoms. It may not be as comforting a story as some would like, but it stands as an unfiltered record of a people who weren't afraid of heavy lifting—both literally and metaphorically.

Modern society could stand to remember that the integrity of something, be it a building or a belief, isn't guaranteed. It must be earned and maintained, even against fashionable, fleeting societal pressures. We owe it to past generations to preserve these living, breathing relics of history, to tell their stories and, more importantly, ensure future generations have the chance to learn from them.

So, next time you're hunting for a way to reconnect with the foundational chords of American history, or you happen to stroll through the Brooklyn Museum, give the Schenck house the respect it has worked hard to demand through centuries of quiet endurance. It's an unpolished gem in a world obsessed with shine, a lesson in steadfastness in a time craving cheap thrills.