When the majestic old Penn Station was demolished in 1963, the response of the outraged public was to devise a system for the protection of truly important structures. Thus was born the Landmarks Preservation Commission. Like many good ideas, the concept of protecting important and historical buildings has grown out of control, subverted into becoming a device not to safeguard our heritage, but to prevent legitimate projects from moving forward. The well-intentioned law can be used as a device to fulfill other, often sinister, agendas.

Dr. Mark Lidagoster was eager to find a home in Riverdale, the Bronx. With a wife who is also a physician, four children, and an aged uncle in his household, he knew that it was likely that whatever house he found would have to be renovated to accommodate his family’s needs. He thought he had found the perfect place on a street called Ploughman’s Bush, paid $1.7 million for a modest structure, and filed construction plans for the rather unimposing building’s make-over.

Soon after the construction began, the Lidagosters’ contractor was served with an order to stop work. Someone had filed an application to “landmark” his property, and an investigation was ordered. His house, claim the petitioners, is of great historic interest, the former “Delafield Hunting Lodge,” built in 1865. However, it is clear that this building, with its two-car garage, screened porches, and added kitchen, is hardly the same building from which Delafield rode off with the hounds in the 19th century.

This all came as a shock to Dr. Lidagoster, since he had made a point of inquiring about potential landmark and historic preservation issues with the seller and the local broker prior to the sale. He says he was told there was no problem. So why was the building, which clearly has already been radically altered from its original appearance, suddenly an object of so much concern?

Dr. Lidagoster believes it has something to do with the fact that he is a member of Riverdale’s growing Orthodox Jewish community. And a number of prominent leaders of the Riverdale community feel that the attempt to stop construction is part of a “genteel anti-Semitism” that is directed against the influx of Orthodox Jewish families to the neighborhood. Included among these concerned members of the community are Rabbis Avi Weiss and Shmuel Herzfeld of the Hebrew Institute of Riverdale, a congregation well known for its activism.

The problem faced by the Lidagosters is not the first such incident. A decade ago, a building purchased by the Telshe Yeshiva to be used as a dormitory by young rabbinical students was landmarked immediately after the school bought the building. That limited the possibilities for expansion. The structure was not thought worthy of this status in the many years prior, when it was owned by others.

A petition was recently filed to turn Fieldston, which is a private community of some 200-plus luxury homes, into a historic district. This would, in effect, landmark each of the homes, preventing any expansion or changes to the exteriors unless such changes are approved by the Landmarks Preservation Commission. This action was taken after a significant number of Orthodox families moved in and built additions to their homes.

They may not be a modern-day equivalent of the restrictive covenants that once prevented Jews from moving into certain neighborhoods. But it strikes us that there’s a need for some safeguards to prevent discrimination from seeping into the landmarking process, including assessing damages against those bringing complaints to the commission capriciously.

A good place to begin this review is with the anonymous nature of the petition. And in the fact that in New York City property owners, unlike criminals, have no right to confront their accusers. Otherwise there’s a danger that people like the Lidagosters will end up going to what used to be Penn Station and moving out to the suburbs.