Marlboro, N.Y. (Special) -- For Luis Moses Gomez, the mill and trading post he established in 1714 near this Hudson Valley town were, in all probability, minor cogs in the wheel of his extensive colonial enterprises. They were places where two of his six sons learned a trade.

But fate and a remarkable organization built in large measure by some of Gomez's noteworthy descendants have elevated what was once a rude cabin into a museum which has won recognition for being the oldest Jewish homestead extant in the United States.

Gomez also is known in American Jewish history as the founding president of Shearith Israel Synagogue in New York City, a Sephardic congregation which is the city's oldest. Within 34 years of the trading post's construction, the building passed out of Jewish hands and into those of a variety of owners. Over the centuries, many of the subsequent occupants modified the structure, extending it here, adding a second floor there, and later installing modern plumbing and appliances--so that the house metamorphosed with its times. Some of the subsequent residents of the Gomez Mill House were famous, while others were unknown except to their friends and families. Taken in the aggregate, their life stories help to depict America's heterogeneity as well as some of the bright--and dark--moments of U.S. History.

LIGHT UNTO THE NATIONS--A menorah sits on a windowsill in the oldest Jewish homestead in the  United States.

The story begins in Spain where Gomez's forbearers posed as Christians while living secretly as Jews. Under such a guise, Gomez's father, Isaac, already had won recognition as a financier to the Spanish court by the time Luis was born in 1660. But ever wary, the family had devised a code to be used if and when the Spanish Inquisition learned their secret and threatened their lives. To alert each other of imminent danger, family members would remark, seemingly innocently: "The onions are beginning to smell." 

Luis Moses Gomez received such an olfactory warning while still a young man, so was sent across the border to France where he was raised by his grandparents. But France, too, became unfriendly territory for Jews, so Gomez -- by this time established as an importer and exporter whose cargoes were carried by ships across the world -- resettled in the Caribbean. From there, it was but a brief hop to relocate to New York.

Symbolizing the peril that constantly threatened Sephardic Jews is an onion basket that curators have hung from the ceiling of the kitchen in the Gomez Mill House. Symbolic of freedom from that peril is a framed certificate of denization hanging in another room of the house. 

Made out in the name of Britain's Queen Anne, the certificate recognizes Luis Moses Gomez as a denizen of her realm, who therefore was eligible to own property, to pass such property onto his descendants, and to be free from harassment or vexation by royal agents. As the 17th century turned to the 18th, this was for a Jew a valuable assurance worth every pound sterling that Gomez paid for it.  Gomez's sons later purchased their own denization certificates, even though their father's rights

HISTORIC HOUSE--Lower floor of Gomez Mill House was  constructed by the Gomez family in 1714 Subsequent residents added on the second floor and wing.

technically had been passed onto them by inheritance. Perhaps they purchased their own certificates as a form of insurance. 

Obtaining the senior Gomez's denization certificate when it came up at auction at Christie's in June of 1998 involved careful planning by the Gomez Mill House's board of directors, according to William Maurer, the museum's executive director.

"The estimated value of the certificate prior to auction was $3,500 to $5,000," Maurer said during a recent informal meeting with visitors to the 28-acre grounds of the Gomez Mill House.

"I called up one of my board members and said: 'Bobby, we need this.' He said: 'Don't worry; it's not that big a deal.' Our president, Frances Low, meanwhile called Mrs. Jesselson (a philanthropist) who said she already told her son Michael to buy it for us. He, in turn, hired a young woman to be the bidder."

When Mrs. Low arrived at the auction she saw among the potential bidders representatives of such institutions as New York's Jewish Museum, Shearith Israel Synagogue and the American Jewish Historical Society. Determinedly, she ascertained their intentions. This one was interested in maps, another in other artifacts, but no one directly expressed interest in the denization certificate. Not willing to leave anything to chance, she parlayed with the young woman bidder. "How much money to we have?" she asked. "Mr. Jesselson says we have $12,000," the young woman replied. "Well," said Mrs. Low, "Mrs. Jesselson says buy it, so we will go with Mrs. Jesselson," she instructed. She added that she knew where another $3,000 could be gotten hold of for the certificate.

The bidding climbed in $1,000 increments to $9,000 when the young lady made her move and bid $12,000. The auctioneer quickly brought down his gavel and declared the certificate sold.

The acquisition caused such excitement at the Gomez Mill House that an outdoor luncheon was held on the property last October to dedicate the historic certificate.

"There are not a hell of a lot of these around," Maurer explained. "First of all, only very rich people could afford them. Second, such certificates became unnecessary after the American Revolution." And third, denization certificates -- in lieu of citizenship certificates-- were granted only to people who were unable or unwilling to swear a Christian oath or eat the sacrament. Luis Moses Gomez, no longer hounded by the Spanish Inquisition, by now was living openly as a Jew.

Shearith Israel Synagogue, which Gomez founded, and the Gomez Mill House properly regard each other as siblings, according to Maurer.

For example, when Shearith Israel held a memorial service last May 23 at the Chatham Square Cemetery in New York City for 28 Jews buried there who had died while serving in the American Revolution, staff and board members of the Gomez Mill House participated, not failing to also pay their respects at Gomez' own grave there. The cemetery has an old wall fashioned from limestone provided by Gomez from the mill house.

Gomez Mill House staff and board members also will participate in a gala planned Nov. 10 in which a skit will depict in comic fashion "The Battle of the Balcony" in which Mrs. Gomez's argument with another congregant over whether the window of the women's balcony should be open or shut escalated during a High Holy Day service into an argument into which their husbands were both drawn. Eventually the argument became so heated, it could not be solved anywhere except in a court of law.

The Gomez Mill House has offices both at the property (which is located only yards away from the line on New York State Route 9W which divides Orange and Ulster Counties) and in New York City at 100 Park Avenue in space donated by Philip Morris Inc., whose former chief executive officer, Joseph Collman III, is a Gomez descendant and chairman of the Gomez Mill House board.

Because the giant tobacco company says it may need to reclaim the space, the museum's New York City office may soon have to move. Under consideration as a venue is a Jewish center planned to take up a block between 12th and 13th Streets where the American Jewish Historical Society and a yeshiva already have decided to move. There is speculation that a close association between the historical society and the Gomez Mill House may lead in the future to their merger.

In the meantime, it was just this sort of networking that enabled the Gomez Mill House to acquire some artifacts like a grandfather clock and a 19th century ketuba (Jewish wedding contract) from Gomez family descendants. It also helped the Gomez Mill House to recently show off one piece in its collection -- a hannukiah -- at the White House.

Almost immediately after the dedication ceremonies for the Gomez denization certificate, "The White House called Mrs. Jesselson and asked where can we get a good menorah for the White House west wing," Maurer related. "So I got to take the hannukiah to Washington and we arranged to have Michael Cardozo VI, a boy about 10 years old, and his dad go with me to the White House" to present the hannukiah.

Although President Bill Clinton was busy that day meeting Palestinian Authority President Yasser Arafat, two ranking Jewish members of the White House staff--budget director Jack Lew and deputy chief of staff Maria Eschesteve--accepted the loan of the menorah. Perhaps more of a thrill for the party was the fact that the Clinton family pet "Buddy the Dog, came out and sniffed me, dropped a ball, and I take the ball and throw it down a hallway," Maurer recalled. "He brings it back. I throw it again until my wife yells, 'you're playing ball in the White House!' I said okay and a man with a patch on his sleeve came and took Buddy away." Michael Cardozo VI is the grandnephew of the late U.S. Supreme Court Justice Benjamin Cardozo--one of the many persons associated either by marriage or descent with Luis Moses Gomez 1,000-strong progeny. Other associated families include those of Chazan Gershon Seixas, who was among the clergy escorting George Washington

SHOWN AT WHITE HOUSE--This chanukiyah from the collection at the Gomez Mill House was used in the West Wing of the white house last year.

to his inauguration as the first president of the United States; Revolutionary War financier Haym Salomon; poet Emma Lazarus, whose words welcoming immigrants are found at the base of the Statue of Liberty, and playwright Bret Harte.

Both the hannukiah and another menorah as well as what is purported to be a portrait of a Sephardic woman are objects that reportedly were in the house when it was owned by papermaker and craftsman Dard Hunter. Maurer believes that Hunter felt an affinity for the home's original owners and purchased the objects, but he has not yet been able to substantiate this theory.

Of the many owners who occupied the Gomez Mill House after Gomez's heirs sold it in 1748, Hunter and three others are focused upon in the museum's exhibits and its promotional materials.

Wolvert Acker is remembered as the "patriot" as he owned the mill house at the time of the Revolutionary War and publicly and determinedly advocated the Patriots' cause. Militia men would hold meetings at the mill house and at every meeting, Acker, a Christian of Dutch ancestry, would "open his family Bible box and read inspirational passages to his guests," according to Maurer. 

Around the time of the Civil War, William Henry Armstrong -- a world traveler and adventurer -- took possession of the house which was intended to be a safe haven for himself, a northerner with outspoken Yankee sympathies, and his wife, a Southerner born and bred to the Confederate cause. Though they could keep politics at bay, tragedy stalked them. Chasing their family dog to the brook -- officially named "Jews Creek" after the Gomez family -- little Emily Armstrong knocked herself unconscious falling into the water, where she drowned.

Among people who made their own paper, Dard Hunter is a well known name. Examples of Hunter's handiwork are on display at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington. Hunter replaced a saw mill that had been used by the Gomezes and the Ackers and built a "beating mill" of his own design. He installed a water wheel at a fall of Jews Creek, which in turn powered gears and pulleys needed to operate a beating machine which transformed any substance with cellulose -- rags, linen, leaves, grass, wood -- into a paper pulp.

"It was from this process we got the expression 'beaten into a pulp,' Maurer said.

The fourth resident on which the museum focuses is the "preservationist," Mildred DeVito Starin, who purchased the property with her Jewish husband, Jeffrey, shortly after World War II and set about restoring it and retrieving its artifacts from the attic, cellar and outbuildings. 

Mrs. Starin contacted the Jewish Museum in New York about the house and it became a feature in 1954 of the 300th anniversary celebration of Jewish life in the United States. Eventually that contact also led to the creation of the Gomez Mill House Foundation and the purchase of the property for museum use. Mrs. Starin lives today in a condominium in the area. The mill house maintains its status as the oldest extant residence by quartering a caretaker in the house.

The original Gomez premises consisted of a long rectangular room with fireplaces at either end. The dirt floor was covered over with a lime mix. The front Dutch door -- whose top half could be opened separately from the bottom half -- provided some defense against a hostile visitor. So too did the back of the trading post which was built into a hillside for protection. The hillside was cleared away many years later.

The Algonquin Indians with whom the Gomez family traded in 1714 were considered a friendly people as were French Canadian and other European trappers who brought fur pelts to the Gomezes from the more northern reaches of the continent. With the Indians, the Gomez family traded "utensils of iron and glass, beads and toys, guns and rum," according to Maurer. The Indian customers "were especially attracted to Gomez's woven fabrics and some began wearing long European style shirts."

As trade fell off because of the Algonquins' relocation to areas more north and inland, the Gomez family continued to operate a sawmill and lime business. Like other wealthy northerners in the 18th century, the family owned Black slaves, some of whom Luis Moses Gomez freed, putting up bonds to guarantee that they would not become public charges.

For school children who are constant visitors to the Gomez Mill House, Dard Hunter's paper mill is a source of fascination -- especially because the pupils are allowed to make their own paper.

As part of its mission to interpret history, the museum also creates programming around Jewish holidays. The covered approach to a cellar dug into the hillside made a wonderful sukkah. Around the time of Rosh Hashanah, children were invited to blow paper shofars, and there were candlelighting ceremonies at Chanukah.

Maurer, who spent most of his life in the food business while pursuing history as an amateur, took his first professional job as a historian at the house occupied in Palisades International Park by the British General Lord Charles Cornwallis. After that, he changed sides, so to speak, to direct the historic site in Tappan, where George Washington had temporary headquarters.

A Methodist, Maurer nevertheless felt well prepared for a post directing the Jewish flavored Gomez Mill House. He said his was practically the only Christian family in the Long Island neighborhood where he grew up, and noted that in the food business his competitors, colleagues and clientele were predominantly Jewish.

Moreover, he said, "I am very interested in archeology and Jewish history and I had that background when I came here five years ago."

His assistant director, Ellen Healy, is a former member of the Marlboro School Board, who has helped in the development of educational programs at the mill house.

Among these are lectures by outside authorities on such subjects as how the Hudson Valley developed trading partners throughout the world, and on the life and works of Meyer Myers, a Jewish colonial goldsmith who was a professional rival of Paul Revere's.

Children also are invited on various occasions to participate in a barbless fishing derby at the creek and in archeological digs which have been salted with interesting artifacts for them to discover.

There also are historic reenactments at the property such as the reading of the Declaration of Independence to Acker and his patriotic friends, as well as concerts utilizing period instruments.

Admission to the Gomez Mill House is $3 for adults and seniors alike; $1.50 for students and children. Reservations may be made by telephoning 914-236-3126, or via the museum's website at www.gomez.org