As 1972 rolled in, my parents decided to take part in the great American housing boom of the early seventies. The house I had always called home—our sturdy brick ranch on Jackie Lane—was put up for sale. We were headed for something new.
For me, it was all excitement. Most Sundays became family adventures spent touring brand-new subdivisions popping up around the area. They were all within a few miles of our current neighborhood, but to my young eyes, each one was its own world of possibility.
Every model home was a new fantasy. Ranch style? Two-story? Split-level? Three bedrooms or four? I’d wander through the open houses asking the all-important question: Which room would be mine? I’d imagine birthday parties in the backyard, snow days in a new living room, bike rides with kids I hadn’t met yet. For my parents, I’m sure it was a practical decision—school districts, mortgage payments, resale value. But for me, it was pure adventure.
Eventually, they chose a four-bedroom, two-story home called The Villager in a new subdivision called Towne South Estates. Once construction began, we’d drive out each weekend to check on the progress. I vividly remember standing on the exposed subfloor one afternoon—no walls yet, just an enormous wooden platform stretched out like a blank canvas. In my young mind, that big open space held everything the future could be.
It’s funny what sticks with you. At the time, I didn’t think much about the sale of our old home, but now it fascinates me. My parents bought the Jackie Lane house in 1960 for $19,000. When we sold it in 1972, it went for what seemed like an incredible $29,000. According to Zillow, that same house is now worth over $325,000. What a ride.
In August of 1972, we moved into our new home at 5555 Limerick Drive. That address would carry me through the rest of my childhood. A new house, a new neighborhood, a new chapter. Jackie Lane was in the rearview mirror—but the memories would never leave.
Welcome! 