The average home price in San Francisco is $1.4 million dollars. In Boston and Seattle, it’s more than $1 million. Yes, those are great cities and world capitals of the tech industry, so people make more money there. But still … that’s a bit much, right? When I was growing up, a million dollars seemed like inconceivable, unnecessary, Scrooge McDuck-diving-into-a-swimming-pool-of-gold-coins-type money.
Not everybody can own a tech firm or a hedge fund. Cities require teachers, firefighters, janitors, and so on; where are they supposed to live? Pittsburgh has a lot of problems. But here, at least, if you are unhappy with a neighborhood’s prices, in many cases, you can simply go a few blocks down and find another one.
That’s sort of why I generally don’t engage with the gentrification debate. Sure, it’s a real thing, a problem, even here. But also, nobody can agree what it means; sometimes, it’s just flung around indiscriminately to explain “things are changing and I hate it.”
Cities are living, breathing things that change constantly. People move in, people move out. Nothing stays the same for long. It’s bad for a lot of people when prices spike, sure — but you won’t like the method for making them go back down again (economic collapse, crime wave, environmental catastrophe, etc.). Not every change is gentrification.
Some of it is, though! This listing for a single-family home on Zillow — 1514 N. Homewood Ave., $77,500 – verges on parody:
“CALLING ALL INVESTORS! Check out this strong BRICK TURN-KEY INVESTMENT PROPERTY located in the ‘up and coming’ Homewood section of the city. This home is already a solid income producer but it's awaiting a new owner, for the savvy investor who wants to add to their portfolio and see returns asap.”
If only there was a word to describe this. Something that doesn’t start with a “G” (dammit). Here’s another idea: buy this nice, cheap old brick house and live in it instead. Or don’t raise the rent, just because you can. Fix it up nice. Be a good neighbor. Invest in mutual funds, vintage albums, baseball cards, or literally anything else.
NORTH SIDE
For sale: 2505 Mt. Troy Rd., Spring Garden/Reserve, $264,900
Right on those quiet, sylvan borderlands where the city turns into Shaler, is this nice brick foursquare, built in 1925. This was the heyday of great porches, a wonderful liminal space between indoors and outside that combines the best qualities of both, and houses were something greater than simply storage sheds for cars. Sure, that beige siding isn’t doing it any favors, and you can’t really walk to anything here, but you could be the kind of person who sits on their front porch (looking at your phone) instead of inside on the couch (looking at your phone), which is objectively better.
It seemed like the days of historic homes in old Allegheny City for less than $250K were long gone, but there are exceptions to every rule. This built-in-1900 townhouse features five (!) bedrooms and hardwood floors with century-old patina of age, not a slick, just-installed shine. Old houses require a lot of care, but the previous occupants cared enough to get period-appropriate furniture, so this place is probably in good shape. The kitchen is so bright and spacious that it looks like it wandered in from another century, but it looks great here.
HILLTOP
For sale: 146 Ruth St., Mt. Washington, $269,000
Do you remember when you were a little kid, and you first drew a house on a blank sheet of construction paper? It probably looked like this, with a sharp triangle-shaped roof on top, and maybe a puppy in the window. (Or, if you’re me, it had a moat around it filled with sharks, piranhas, and electric eels). 1925 must have been a good year for Pittsburgh, because there are a lot of houses from that year like this that are still in very good shape. This one could use a few eels, though.
For rent: 450 Augusta St., Duquesne Heights, $895/month
Who doesn’t want to live in a cement-block bunker/rowhouse with weird little windows and an intimidating number of stairs to get there? But hey, $900 a month is pretty great, and no mighty wind will dare blow you off the top of Mt. Washington. “No pets” seems a bit extreme, when the house looks like it could keep rhinos or snakes safe and warm at the zoo, but those are the rules.
