When I was growing up in Jersey City, NJ, there were certain neighborhoods I avoided if I could.

 

I guess every big city in the country has its dangerous neighborhoods, and Jersey City is the second largest in the state. There were areas where crime was rampant. Police sirens could be heard throughout the night almost every day of the week.

 

All through grammar school and high school, my own neighborhood was in transition. Third Street in the downtown section of the city, where I spent over 20 years, was very diverse to begin with. 

 

But as families in low-income and subsidized properties in New York began to be “pushed out” for higher paying renters, they settled down the block from me in some of the four-story brick row houses.

 

Rents were much lower. There were lots of schools and stores in the neighborhood. So it was a good place to live - if families could accept a smaller, cramped apartment.

 

But that didn’t last. In the late 1970s, the same people who pushed the poor people out of their homes in New York discovered Downtown Jersey City.

 

The buildings were the same as in New York City - historic, brick, multi-level, but were selling for just a fraction of the price for similar homes in Manhattan. And the PATH Train - the subway that connected Jersey City to Manhattan, was just a few blocks away.

 

Landlords in Jersey City, who for years had dealt with crime, graffiti, destruction of property and renters who didn’t pay, were glad to be able to “unload” their properties.

 

The new transition -  gentrification, had begun.

 

Jersey City natives saw it as a way to get out of their old neighborhood, while the New Yorkers got a bargain.

 

On every block there were “For Sale” signs. At first, properties took a while to sell. But soon, homes were selling even without a sign out front.

 

At the time, our family was renting a three-story, one family brick home next to a church. It was built in the 1870s as the rectory for the church, and still had all its original architectural details.

 

One day, my father told us the landlord had decided to sell the home. He had a buyer from New York who was willing to pay far more than we could afford. We were told we had a few months to find a new place and vacate. 

 

I was working full time and had saved some money, but because rents had increased dramatically and the value of homes had tripled by that time, it was almost impossible to find something affordable in the neighborhood.

 

I finally found a place. But it was in one of the same neighborhoods I avoided as a youngster. Even with New Yorkers buying up properties, it was still considered a “marginal” neighborhood, and not much had sold there. 

 

 I bought that property - a three-family brick building that was once a hotel in the early 1900s. I took the middle apartment. My parents had the one at street level and my brother and his family lived on the top floor.

 

As the years passed, my parents moved to Florida. My brother followed them shortly after. 

 

I rented out their apartments for a few years. Then after I met my late wife Julie, I moved into her house and sold mine - at a good price to a New Yorker.

 

By the time we moved to Minnesota in 2000, the gentrification had accelerated even more. 

 

The entire downtown area had undergone a makeover. High-rise, high rent apartment buildings filled lots that had been vacant as far back as I could remember. Abandoned factories and warehouses were turned into condominiums.

 

The look of the neighborhoods, and the faces of the people in those neighborhoods, had changed dramatically.  

  

I’ve been back to Jersey City five times in the past 17 years. Every time, I see something new. 

 

But what I don’t see are kids. There are no families anymore.

 

When I was growing up there, all the kids played stickball, tag and lots of other games in the streets. 

 

Not anymore.

 

Now there are more single, well-to-do people who live in Jersey City and work in the financial district on Wall Street. Young couples walk their dogs in areas where they would have needed a police escort 30 years earlier. 

 

The old mom and pop stores on the main shopping street - Newark Ave., have been replaced by coffee shops, fancy restaurants and specialty stores that cater to a wealthier clientele.

 

There are no big families in the neighborhood. They can’t afford to live there.

 

Some people say it’s a better place now.  Crime is lower. No graffiti. Cleaner streets. But it isn’t better for the people who had to leave.

 

I’ll be going back East in a week to a family event. We’re already talking about walking through the old neighborhood to see what it’s like today.

 

I hope I’m not disappointed by what I see.