What’s at Stake When We Stop Caring
By Claudia Grunberger, Grunberger Interiors
Long Island’s Gold Coast was built on a dream of Europe.
Tudor Revival, Victorian, Georgian Colonial, Spanish Revival, French Château: styles carried across the Atlantic by families who wanted something more than a house. They wanted a world.
That longing has never gone away. It lives in the revival homes being built today, in the estates being carefully restored, and in every buyer who walks through the door of a Gold Coast home and feels, immediately, that they want to be part of its richness, its heritage, its grandeur.
As a British interior designer on Long Island, I am deeply fascinated by its architectural heritage. It is what drew me recently to a historic walking tour of Plandome Heights, one of the most coveted and picturesque addresses on Long Island’s North Shore, in the heart of what was once known as the Gold Coast. Situated directly on the Port Washington LIRR line, it offers one of the shortest commutes into Manhattan while retaining a quiet, suburban atmosphere that feels worlds away from the city.
The houses sit back from the road among manicured lawns and lush surroundings. The architectural variety feels genuinely collected rather than planned. Tudor Revivals stand beside Colonials and Mediterranean villas, each one saying something specific about the family who built it and the era that shaped it. Together, they create a setting rich with charm and historic identity.
It is no surprise the village remains such a draw for families seeking beauty, character, community, and convenience in equal measure.
The Benjamin Duke Legacy
Among the tour’s highlights was learning about a remarkable architectural legacy hiding in plain sight. Ten Mediterranean-style homes, commissioned under the patronage of Benjamin Duke of the prominent Duke family whose philanthropic legacy would later help shape Duke University, were built in Plandome Heights as a unified architectural statement.
Distinguished by their terracotta tile roofs and warm stucco facades, they introduced a romantic European influence to the village that remains central to its identity today.
Of the original ten, only eight remain.
The two that were lost were replaced by oversized modern homes in the now-familiar palette of grey, black, and white. Too large, too generic, too indifferent to their surroundings. They do not echo the warmth, charm, or character of the homes beside them. What was lost cannot be recovered.
Preserving the soul of 64 Plandome Court in Plandome Height
Today, one of the remaining Benjamin Duke homes is for sale: 64 Plandome Court in Plandome Heights. Built in 1913, it represents everything that makes these houses worth fighting for.
The house needs care. The interior has not kept pace with the times, and many who walk through it will see only the work required. Some will call it a gut renovation and move on.
I see something else entirely.
Its hallmark terracotta roof, beautiful millwork, tall ceilings, six original fireplaces, and a pantry with intact original cabinetry in remarkable condition — details that have survived for more than a century and deserve to survive another. These are not simply features. They are the heart of the house.
What this home needs is not demolition, but vision. Modernize the kitchen and bathrooms completely, but with a timeless aesthetic that honors the home’s character rather than erasing it. No new build can replicate the soul of an older home.
The fear is real that this house will follow the fate of the two already lost. It does not have to be that way.
The Gold Coast: Long Island’s Larger Loss
This story is not an isolated one.
Long Island’s North Shore was once home to one of the most extraordinary concentrations of private architecture in America. During the Gilded Age and into the Roaring Twenties, more than 1,200 grand estates were built along the Gold Coast by some of the wealthiest and most influential families in the country. Fewer than a third remain today.
What survives does so because someone cared enough to preserve it. Oheka Castle in Cold Spring Harbor; Hempstead House at the Sands Point Preserve; Coe Hall at Planting Fields Arboretum in Oyster Bay Cove; Old Westbury Gardens in Old Westbury. These are not just beautiful buildings. They are irreplaceable touchstones to Long Island’s architectural and cultural identity.
Every demolition is a permanent subtraction from that identity. You cannot rebuild what has been erased.
The Case for Historic Preservation:
Choosing Restoration Over Demolition
Not every old house should be saved. A true knockdown is a structure so fundamentally compromised, whether by structural failure or decades of poor renovation, that restoration is genuinely impossible or economically irrational. A house built entirely around the trends of a particular moment, with little architectural merit or lasting character, may also fall into this category.
But a home with original details, craftsmanship, and architectural legacy is not a knockdown. It is an opportunity. The difference requires an educated eye before the demolition permit is filed.
Original millwork, hardwood floors, plaster walls, fireplaces, and staircases are the reason a house has soul. Strip them away and you are left with square footage. Preserve them and you create a home that will reward you for as long as you own it.
Most renovations focus on making a home look more modern. The result can be sterile interiors disconnected from the architecture around them. Beautiful perhaps at first glance, but lacking warmth, atmosphere, and emotional depth. The homes that endure are the ones that were treated with care, not erased in the name of convenience.
Every time an historic home is replaced by an oversized generic structure, something irreplaceable disappears. Not simply a building, but a piece of the story that makes Long Island worth living in.
Long Island’s architectural heritage belongs to all of us: to the communities shaped by it, to the families who inherit it, and to everyone who understands that a place without memory is a place without soul.
Designing Historic Interiors:
When Tradition and Modern Life Belong Together
Choosing an historic home does not mean sacrificing modern comfort. The most compelling interiors hold both simultaneously. A Georgian fireplace in one room, a beautiful state of the art kitchen in another. Original Art Deco millwork or stained glass paired with furnishings chosen for today’s comfort and ease. The bones of the past provide the framework, and modern life fills it.
Grand windows — a defining feature of older architecture — do far more than let the light in. The correct window treatments frame the world outside, draw nature into the home, and deepen the experience of living within it. Knowing how to dress them — the scale, the fabric, the tailoring, the trimming — is what allows a home to fully realize its potential.
This is not a compromise. It is the richest possible outcome. A historic home is not a museum. Beautiful, yes — but so much more than that. A place to be lived in, enjoyed, and celebrated. One that captivates, envelops, and enriches every day you spend within it.
Why Grunberger Interiors
Every old home has a spirit, a mood, and a story it has been trying to tell for decades. My work is to bring that story to life through color, texture, light, and materials. A well-designed interior layers furnishings, décor, art, and window treatments in a way that complements the home rather than competing with it.
British by upbringing and education while having lived across some of Europe’s great architectural cities, I bring an instinct for scale, proportion, harmony, and the subtle tension between old and new. A je ne sais quoi that can only be lived, not taught.
I believe beauty is only the beginning.
The most meaningful interiors transform the way you feel within them. They envelop you. Calm you. Restore you. They create emotional fulfillment, comfort, atmosphere, and a genuine sense of belonging.
This is not simply decorating. It is creating a richer life inside the home itself.
At Grunberger Interiors, design is rooted in heritage yet never trapped in the past. I love mixing old and new to create homes that feel layered, alive, timeless, and deeply personal rather than trend-driven and disposable.
The homes with the most history often have the most to give. They simply need the right vision to bring them fully alive.
If you are considering buying an historic home on Long Island’s Gold Coast — or if you simply want your home to feel richer, more inviting, and full of character — I would love to have that conversation with you.