Love Where You Live

Love Where You Live.

In 1993, my husband Bill and I bought a modest 1950s ranch house in Jackson, Mississippi. It was a starter home in an older neighborhood. The house featured typical horizontal lines of the era, a roman brick fireplace, oak flooring and a huge, one-acre lot filled with old-growth trees. It was a community that was developed primarily to house veterans post-WWII. The “G.I. Subdivision” consisted of streets like Naples, Melbourne, Childress and Normandy to reflect battles from the war. The lots were provided to veterans in a land grant program offered by the city. In those days, it was a neighborhood brimming with children, dogs, schools and places of worship.

When we moved in, some of the original residents were still around. It was a risky move because we weren’t sure which direction the neighborhood would go once the elderly residents were gone. Would the homes retain their value or would once-loved structures sit empty and boarded up? This sense of uncertainty led us to be active in our community. We got to know the other neighbors and helped create a neighborhood association to preserve its history and way of life. Ultimately, these efforts led to a wave of young, first-time homebuyers who gave the old neighborhood the “next generation.” My children grew up in not so different ways as their predecessors from the 1950s — roaming the neighborhood on bikes, catching fireflies and playing baseball in the local sandlot.

As our family grew, we had to convert a garage to carve out more space. We upgraded bathrooms and the kitchen to make the home more modern. But further improvements might not be recouped in the real estate value of the home. Was it time to move on?

While it’s true we did shop around, we couldn’t make the decision to leave. Our children grew up here. We had buried beloved pets in the yard. We painted clouds on the ceiling of the nursery for babies now grown up. We knew all of our neighbors and we had been to more of their weddings, baptisms and funerals than we could count. Our neighbors were our best friends. We stayed for love of home.

So with this introductory blog, I invite you to join the movement to love where you live. Host a gathering at your house and get to know your neighbors. Attend a community meeting and volunteer to clean up a vacant lot. Knock on the door of an elderly resident and learn the history of your community. Buy a neglected home and restore it lovingly to keep your neighborhood vibrant and strong.

I am not a professional designer and I don’t flip houses for profit. I am passionate about my community and I use my love of place to guide design decisions.  I rely on advice from my mother, who has an incredible eye for design; my best friend and business partner who flips houses professionally in Atlanta; my realtor, who grew up in the neighborhood; and the pooled talent of my neighbors who choose to stay and build our community.

Liz