By Barbara Peters Smith
A little over five years ago, my husband and I were possessed by a small seizure of bravado and bought a 1932 bungalow. The house itself had been poorly treated and there was little to recommend it; what really swayed us was the neighborhood.
We saw a diverse and lively mix of scruffiness and charm that reminded us of New Orleans, where we met and married long ago. And we never regretted our decision to trade six acres in the country for this friendly, fascinating and never-a-dull-moment urban lifestyle. As new neighbors have fixed up the vintage houses — or demolished and replaced the ones beyond repair — many have defrayed the considerable costs by adding vacation rentals to the mix of single-family homes.