Newtown did not exist in isolation. Separated from Flushing by little more than a creek and a shared horizon of farmland, the two townships were bound together by waterways, roads, commerce, and the daily lives of the people who moved between them. To understand the free Black community of 19th-century Newtown, it is necessary to understand the world that surrounded it — and Flushing was the closest and most consequential part of that world.

Jason Antos, historian at the Queens Historical Society, has spent years documenting the layered and often overlooked histories of Queens’s communities. In the conversation that follows, he offers an essential geographic and social orientation to the region: the waterways that shaped settlement patterns, the economic weight that Newtown carried as the seat of local power, and the turnpike that connected the two towns and may have served as a corridor for people escaping enslavement. He also speaks candidly about a pattern that runs through both communities — the fragmentary, inconsistent nature of Black property ownership and the forces, structural rather than incidental, that made stable community formation so difficult.

For a research project focused on the free Black residents of Newtown, Flushing is not background. It is context that is impossible to disentangle from the story itself. The same creek that defined Newtown’s western boundary fed into Flushing Bay. The same roads carried Black residents between both townships. The same economic pressures and the same constrained geography shaped how Black families in both places built lives, held property, worshipped, and eventually, in many cases, disappeared from the local record entirely.

This interview is one part of a broader effort to reconstruct that world before it fades completely from public memory.

What was Black ownership like in Flushing in the 1800s—business ownership, home ownership?

Black ownership—it was scant. There were very few Black-owned businesses. Home ownership was also inconsistent. There was a lot of renting going on, or you had situations where a family would own a home and many people in their family would live together under one roof.

So Black ownership—aside from figures like Louis Latimer and a few others—was really in patches. And this was not a coincidence. It depended on where people were able to live—where they were allowed to live—without any sort of fear or tension.

It remained an inconsistent situation until the 1930s and 1940s. After World War II, when the Black middle class began to emerge, you start to see more established communities, such as St. Albans and Addisleigh Park, which developed into middle- to upper-middle-class neighborhoods.

What was the relationship between Newtown and Flushing economically and socially?

Newtown had most of the power. It was older than Flushing Township and covered a much larger territory. It also had access to more waterways.

A lot of settlement patterns had to do with water. If you follow the water, you can usually see why people settled where they did. You had Newtown Creek, Horsebrook, and all the tributaries feeding into the area, as well as access to the East River.

The land was also excellent for farming, and Newtown had a larger population than Flushing both geographically and demographically. The town hall and courthouses were located there, so it functioned as the seat of power for the borough.

How wide was Horsebrook?

Horsebrook ran from the southern tip of what is now Flushing Meadows and moved westward. That point where the meadows end was called the “Head of the Vly”—“vly” being Dutch for a marshy meadow where a river terminates.

From there it branched westward along roughly what is today the Long Island Expressway. In fact, it now runs beneath the expressway.

It wasn’t particularly large or deep—more like small branches coming off the Flushing River. The brook was known as Horsebrook because it was an ideal location for watering horses. They could drink and graze there.

The British Army also used the area during the Revolutionary War, bringing their horses there to water and graze.

You mentioned ferries going across from Flushing to Newtown. There was also the Flushing–Newtown Turnpike, which ran back and forth. How important was that road? And is there any evidence that Underground Railroad activity might have taken place along that route? How did people escaping slavery travel through the area?

That I’m not entirely certain about. But movement through the area before the railroad would have been by horse and buggy, by barge, and by boat.

A lot of people escaping slavery likely came through Brooklyn and across Newtown Creek, or from Manhattan across the East River. From there they could move eastward along the Turnpike, which today is Northern Boulevard.

There was also a place near where Citi Field stands today called St. Ronan’s Well, or Yonkers Island. It was essentially an island surrounded by swamp land and marshes near the mouth of Flushing Bay.

It was a large hill, heavily wooded and separated from the mainland. People reportedly used it as a hiding place while they moved eastward.

Is there documentation about that?

There is some documentation through the AME Macedonia Church and the reverend who served there. We actually published a book about it called Angels of Deliverance, which deals with Underground Railroad activity in Flushing.

Is there documentation specifically about St. Ronan’s Well?

The documentation mainly comes from the reverend’s notes and recollections. There’s nothing official beyond those personal accounts.

Why do you think the African American communities in Flushing—and especially Newtown—seem to have disappeared?

I think it was part of the broader migration patterns. People moved eastward into Long Island or northward into Connecticut. Some moved to Brooklyn, Manhattan, or eventually the Bronx.

The population was relatively small to begin with, and there was never what you might call a firmly established Black community in those areas. It was more like sections of town rather than a cohesive neighborhood.

And economically things were difficult. The situation was rarely stable and offered very little room for advancement. Because of that, people often moved elsewhere in search of better opportunities.

Were Newtown and Flushing economically similar—garden farming, dairy farming?

Yes, there was a lot of farming. But Newtown also had politicians living there because of its proximity to Brooklyn and Manhattan.

Before the 1898 consolidation, Brooklyn was one of the largest cities in the United States—third or fourth largest depending on the year. Because of that, you had people involved in all sorts of industries living in Newtown.

It wasn’t just farming. Some worked for the railroad, some worked in industry, and others were connected to the ferry system. Long Island City became industrialized, and the railroads began entering Queens.

Newtown effectively became a point of entry for those transportation networks.

Another interesting aspect of the area was the iron coffin makers of Winfield. Winfield is part of what is now Woodside. They manufactured airtight iron coffins, which were extremely expensive.

About ten years ago, one of these iron coffins was discovered near a church off Broadway in Elmhurst with a body still inside. The remains belonged to a Black woman who had likely been born into slavery.

So you occasionally see these kinds of stories emerge—patches of communities and fragments of history that we try to piece together.

INTERVIEWER: Marc Landas