Loving life on your front porch
By Lisa Marshall Scripps Howard News Service

It was a scene straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting, reminiscent of a simpler time when neighbors gathered on front porches on lazy summer evenings to sip lemonade, visit, and watch the world go by.

But it was just another summer day at one of Boulder, Colo.'s newest housing developments.

"This is my life, right here," said Jill Margolis, kicking back on the steps of her spacious, bright yellow front porch at North Boulder's Holiday Neighborhood. With her dog sprawled out lazily beside her, and a favorite cooking magazine in her hand, Margolis watched her 4-year-old Lily romp with the neighborhood kids, and caught up with a passing neighbor who had stopped for a chat.

"Nobody has a backyard here," said Margolis. "Instead, we all have front porches, so you are sort of forced into community. It's great."

That's exactly as it was intended.

Challenged with less land to work with, and a public that seems to long for community, architects and urban planners in recent years have dusted off century-old home design schemes and begun to restore the front porch to its former 265-home development near Longmont, Colo., a Mayberry look and front porches on nearly every home gave the subdivision the nickname "Pleasantville" when it opened in the late '90s.

Even in older '50s-era neighborhoods, once characterized by bland brick facades, private backyards and entryways in the garage - which allowed homeowners to sneak in with nary a word to their neighbors - people are beginning to extend their outside living space.

"I've always been kind of jealous of people with front porches," says Terry Struthers, 51, who bought his brick, '50s-era home almost two decades ago.

Initially, city ordinances prevented Struthers and his wife, Esther, 48, from building a front porch. But when the city changed its laws a few years ago, the Struthers' added a 250square-foot, sandstone-colored cement porch, with stucco pillars and black iron fencing.

They say the porch made the once "ugly" front facade more modern looking and added a whole new outdoor living space to their 1,900-square foot home. But, more importantly, it has helped them meet their neighbors.

"When we moved here, there were no front porches and there was very little interaction between people. There was no physical space to have that interaction in," says Terry.

Today, many of the neighbor's have followed their lead. And the Struthers spend most summer evenings sitting on the front porch swing chatting with the dog walkers, cyclists and after-dinner strollers who pass by on the sidewalk.

So, what ever happened to American's love affair with those sprawling southern porches made famous in such classics as "Gone with the Wind" and "To Kill a Mockingbird?"

Korkut Onaran, a project manager with Wolff-Lyon Architects, says porches were ubiquitous in the '20s and '30s. But as Americans fled to the suburbs in search of a more private life in the post-WWII era, the front porch began to be replaced by the more private back yard.

Add in air conditioning and television which drew people inside more, and the transition from quaint streets with sidewalks to loud, busy thoroughfares, and the front porch began to seem a downright unpleasant place to hang out.

"In the 1950s and '60s, we kind of forgot the traditions," Onaran says. "We tried to reinvent the whole architecture of the house."

Then came the realization that land was growing scarce and greater density was necessary, and the front porch went from being outdated to being an intriguing solution.