Our Village

My very first memory in our yellow house in Brooklyn is sitting crisscross applesauce on the floor in an empty living room, facing a small boxy silver television. This was 1998 and I was five.

For many years I assumed this memory took place post-move and pre-furniture, but my parents would later correct me that it was actually the day they were looking at the house. It wasn’t ours yet. But it would be.

Fast forward 22 years. After living halfway across the world for the majority of the past four years, here I am, home again in Ditmas Park.

In our quiet village, smack in the middle of busy Brooklyn.

It was meant to be a temporary visit but…covid.

The idea of writing about where I grew up felt like a small light in a rather dark period. I scribbled together a note and slipped copies into my close neighbor’s mailboxes asking if they would be willing to tell me what brought them here and let me take a photo. I was surprisingly pretty nervous to hear back. Some said yes while others kindly declined for various reasons.

My neighbors directly across the street are an older couple who moved here in the 70s. We’ve accumulated over 20 years of hellos. But I was too busy being a kid and then a teenager to know how to create any bond greater than that. The husband politely declined a photo but said I could share that he came here for the quiet, for the privacy and for the parking.

Our neighborhood has great parking.

One year I came home and a painting of our house was hanging on our wall. “Who did this?” I asked. It was our neighbor across the street. He was an artist and I had never known. That same visit I sat by our front window staring at his house. Inspired by his creativity I decided to have a little fun of my own and so I made this for him. Of course like any etch-a-sketch image it was temporary. But he kept a photo.

I like to think we were communicating in our own way.

In high school I had an elective class that focused on the development of New York. For our final project, we were allowed to discuss any part of the city and even arrange a tour for bonus points.

I was proud of where I grew up.

The beautiful houses.

The streets lined with trees.

The nearby park.

The people.

Because what the big victorian homes don’t show you is who is inside having dinner at the end of every long day. An article from 2005 stated “Today, the neighborhood is a miniature United Nations, with nearly two-thirds of the population coming from other countries.”

It’s been 16 years since that article was printed. As restaurants moved in we held our breath, wondering if our little sliver of paradise was about to be shaken. There's no denying that the dramatic changes in Brooklyn over the past 5 - 10 years has threatened the integrity of our little village. The battle isn't over but I think we are still winning because even now, having returned to our road after years of being away, our neighbors still refer to us as a "mini United Nations" and all it takes is a block party to see it.

Rich & Marci

After 7 years of long distance Rich and Marci created what they called their five year plan. Stage one was to find a place for Rich, Marci and her daughter to call home. Like most house hunters, their journey taught them what they did and didn’t want. It was only after they put down a bid on another house in another neighborhood that they heard about an opening on our block.

“We decided to take a look on a day that changed our lives. We loved the house, the street, the neighborhood. We told the realtor that we wanted it and that we were ready with everything. Luckily, we must have connected with her on some level because she immediately took it off the market and it was ours.”

In 2007 they were married in their own backyard with family, close friends, and new neighbors. Their 5 year plan took 7 years because sometimes life reminds us that time isn’t always ours to control. Today they have a beautiful home that they've filled with a family and many, many, memories.

Stan & Alice

Stan and Alice were coming from Manhattan and searching for both space and transport convenience, this can be an undeniably tough find in New York City. After two years nothing felt right, until something finally did. They landed on our block. Stan said “it was perfect.” He continued, “I had space in the attic for a music studio and there were more than enough rooms for our two girls and Alice and myself. Initially, we could not get our snobby Manhattan friends to come visit us but eventually they came out for a housewarming party and their jaws dropped. The huge house plus ample backyard, driveway and a two car garage brought them around real quick. And all this just 25 minutes by train from Manhattan. We got a dog and two cats and the rest is history!”

Susie & Toni

Susie’s journey started when her husband turned to her and said, “let’s go for a drive.” Past the Brooklyn neighborhoods that most New Yorkers know well, they found themselves on our road with a huge FOR SALE sign staring at them.

“Both of us, dumbfounded that we had left urban New York city and arrived in this charming village setting. All in a few miles. While I had been deeply mourning the notion of raising kids without a garden, and feeling terribly regretful that we lived so far from my own family, Tony looked at me and said, “well, are you going to take down the number?” So i did”

With a life full of other plans and a 3 year old on her hip, Susie decided to see the house. She walked through the house and found her mind making what she called “impressions,” as though her subconscious had begun to commit to something that she had not consciously accepted yet. But just like my parents and all of our other neighbors, she would. Because when you can see a home before you’ve even created it yet, it means something. She began to sketch what it could look like.

It took me until my late 20s to realize that. I had been living abroad on a contract but somewhere along the way I had begun to build a home and it was apparent that the paperwork would be done with me long before I was ready to be done.

In search of a house plan, Susie and their 3 year old son headed to the Department of Buildings in downtown Brooklyn. “I proceeded, hesitantly, as the thought of waiting around in a dingy office building for extended time with a 3 yr old didn’t seem too logical or fun for either of us. We went anyway. Myself and the child that absolutely NEVER took a nap. No kidding. Slept well at night, but no naps in day. As I arrived in the office, I took a number and sat down and waited and waited and waited. Kai proceeded to fall asleep while we waited for 2 hours! The house records were in tact and they were able to make copies of EVERYTHING. Built in 1896, garage built in 1915, plumbing changes in 1925 and a remodel to a 2-family in 1940. Architect drawings for everything. As I prepared to leave the building with all papers in tact, Kai woke up. Interesting, I thought.

When I got home, I looked over all of the plans with a bizarre feeling. Remember those drawings I had done? The house in its current state was the plan from 1940, the 2-family layout. The architect plan from 1896, single family, almost EXACTLY matched the second set of sketches I did. Wall cut outs, bathrooms relocated, etc. The hairs on my arms stood up.”

8 months passed. They received a call from the realtor to let them know that someone else had made an offer; a bachelor who wanted to renovate and then flip the sale. But the owners who had been there for 40 years wanted a family to move in.

They wanted to know if Susie was still interested. Lured by both the backyard and diverse neighbors, Susie and her husband made an offer.

And just as Stan had said, "the rest was history!"

Home Sweet Home

I'll always be proud of our little village.

My parents said their original realtor asked them "Why would you want to live there?" Implying a neighborhood with so much diversity.

I don't know what my parents responded but I like to think they said something along the lines of...

There's nowhere we'd rather be.