Audubon Park: An Affordability Cheat Code in the Heart of Jersey
Article written by Brian Davis of Studio Davis - Contributing Writer to NJ Urbanthinker
A hearty hello to all of you fine Urban Thinkers from the place where I spend the most time these days, the kitchen of a 925-foot half a duplex in a cute and unique borough called Audubon Park, NJ.
It was about dozen years ago that I first set foot in this cute little kitchen, though it was hardly cute—or even recognizable as a kitchen—at the time. My parents had recently moved here and were redoing the room, so the walls and floor were bare as my mother excitedly described the cabinetry and layout that were to come. I was visiting from Portland, Oregon, where I’d recently finished grad school and joined a hot, growing firm as a transportation planner. I was only able to stay a short while, and so will confess to being more eager to get a Jersey pizza than to hang around a drab construction site.
This must have ruffled the old lady’s feathers a bit, as she quipped, “What, you’re not interested in this? You do realize that this is going to be your kitchen someday, don’t you?”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that, living in one of the coolest, hippest cities in the country and working a sweet gig with tons of upward mobility, chances were slim to none that I’d ever want to come live in boring Audubon Park. Blech. Though I bit my tongue she picked up on my energy anyway, and responded by rolling her eyes before simply saying, “You’ll see.”
Ten years later, I saw.
Despite my training and career as a planner, and despite growing up a mere stone’s throw from here, I really didn’t start to understand what Audubon Park actually was until I started to help maintain the property for my parents in their declining years. I knew from my mother’s telling that selling her old house and moving in here is what allowed them to retire, but I didn’t realize just how affordable it was until I had to pay their bills and was certain I was doing it wrong.
Audubon Park’s affordability is rooted in its history as federally planned and constructed housing that emerged late in the New Deal. As the nation began to mobilize in the run-up to World War II, the issue of housing shipbuilders and workers in related industries arose. These folks often didn’t have the incomes or work histories to obtain mortgages in the tight late-depression market, but as their importance to the national defense manifested, momentum built for federal action.
Enter Lawrence Westbrook, a WWI Army Colonel who apparently became an unabashed housing geek following the war, and worked in various capacities as such both in and out of the Government. A key inspiration for Westbrook was the planned community of Radburn, NJ, and he was intrigued by ideas of a similarly planned community with a twist: a “mutual” ownership model that would reduce prices and increase flexibility for residents.
Eventually Westbrook came to know a Scotsman-turned-New Jerseyan called John Green, a capable and charismatic shipbuilder who rose to lead the local Shipbuilders Union. Green helped Westbrook refine and build political support for the Mutual Plan, and in 1940, the Mutual Ownership Defense Housing Division of the Federal Works Agency was created with Westbrook at the helm. Audubon Park became the first of eight communities the Division would construct over its two-year history—its quick demise was brought about by a rightward turn and shift toward privatization of housing efforts—and one of seven that remain under the original mutual ownership.
So what is mutually-owned housing, exactly? I am, for all practical and legal purposes, a homeowner but it’s not exactly the home I own. Instead, I own 1/499 of the nonprofit corporation that owns and manages all 499 homes (I have no idea what happened to the 500th unit, nor does anyone I’ve asked), a “share” in the local parlance. As part of that I have the right to occupy my home in perpetuity. An interesting effect of that is that people can and do simply trade homes with one another from time to time. The model is designed to facilitate that so people can remain invested in the community over the decades as households grow and shrink.
In terms of its impact to affordability, the model appears to be wildly successful, offering a lifestyle at a price point that is simply unheard of, and along with it a fun range of possibilities. I was again in this kitchen when I was compelled to contemplate those possibilities upon inheriting this house—or my share, to be precise. And boy had things changed in the last decade. My sweet gig had gone sour, and ballooning home prices kept me renting an apartment even as I craved a little patio and garden and the upshot of homeownership generally. Still, I loved Portland, and all of my professional experience and networks were there.
But at the end of the day, I couldn’t say no to this kitchen—newly remodeled!—and my garden and patio (finally!), a little art studio for my wife, a little music studio for me, and really a pretty damn good if humble little property all for—wait for it!—a little under $800/month including fees, electricity and utilities, property taxes, and insurance.
Though conceived as workforce housing, for me Audubon Park has functioned solidly as a business incubator. The low cost of living here allowed me to achieve a longtime career goal: founding and growing my own little transportation planning firm. To be honest, I wouldn’t have survived those first shoestring years on a normal budget, but Audubon Park is a personal finance cheat code.
Authors note: Much of my understanding of the history of Audubon Park derives from the excellent book The Mutual Housing Experiment: New Deal Communities for the Urban Middle Class by Kristin M. Szylvian. I highly recommend it as a wonky read on this fascinating era and housing model.