The following is a personal essay. We invite readers to submit personal essays and op-eds by contacting us here.
On a warm Cleveland summer day, my partner and I awoke to a letter from our landlord. “Due to the imminent sale of the house you are leasing, I am providing this 60 day written notice to terminate your lease. … I do apologize for the inconvenience this may cause you,” it read, a dispassionate piece of paper uprooting us entirely. Juggling a full-time job and graduate school, my heart sank, confronting the specter of housing uncertainty for the first time in my life. Sure, I’d moved around after graduating from Kent State, bouncing between apartments and homes in Lakewood and Cleveland, but this felt different. In two months, we had no idea where we’d be.
We immediately began hunting for somewhere to live, but the question of renting or buying filled my heart with dread. The market was, and still is, brutal for anyone looking to move, no matter if they rent or buy. We didn’t want to leave our big, beautiful Cleveland double just a few blocks from Edgewater Park, but the choice wasn’t ours to make.
I’d rented since moving out of my parents’ house, but this time felt different. I had hoped to buy a home in a more safe, stable future after graduating with my master’s degree, but the universe was pushing us on the fast track to homeownership. We made the decision: no more landlord, but my biggest fear was: can we even afford this? We weren’t immune to the pandemic’s negative impact on most Americans’ finances, and our decision to buy was not taken lightly.
Recommended to a powerhouse realtor by a friend who knew we desperately needed guidance, we began the real estate hunt. Frenzied by our sixty-day countdown, we toured over 30 homes in a month. Sleepless nights of homework and yawning days at the office characterized my summer of 2021. Rubbing shoulders with other potential buyers going in and out of homes and feeling pressured to make “yes or no” decisions in a split second. Our realtor ruefully shared that inspections were being waived, homes were being purchased in cash, and some buyers weren’t even looking at a home before making an offer. Our knees began knocking together as we faced this daunting reality.
We pressed on. Our top consideration was location, and we decided the home must be in the city of Cleveland, within a walkable neighborhood between downtown and West 117th street, preferably north of I-90. This would keep us close to our friends, jobs, and favorite restaurants and shops. After living on the near west side for many years, we wanted to stay and own a piece of Cleveland’s renaissance. Energy pulses through the city, and we were determined to support Cleveland, and not a suburb, with our money. Too many people in Northeast Ohio say they’re from Cleveland, even though they live in a far-flung suburb. We preferred to walk the talk and put our money where our mouth is. This was a must.
Our questions were endless. Where’s that sewer smell coming from? Is that curtain in the basement hiding a caving-in foundation? Has this place been renovated since the 50s? Is a radon pipe something we should be scared of? What’s knob and tube wiring? Do we need a garage? The continuously nagging question: can we actually afford this?
One discouraging day in July, after four fruitless tours of overpriced houses and stress-eating Sheetz mac ‘n cheese bites, I went home, mentally frantic. I hopped onto every real estate search engine I could find, and a newly listed property popped up in Cleveland’s Cudell neighborhood. We wanted to see it, but the house wasn’t even open for tours yet. Our realtor made some phone calls and elbowed us in barely hours after it was listed. We knew this was a lucky chance that not everyone would have, and we didn’t take the opportunity for granted. We hoped this would be it. That way, we could stop looking and allow more room for others to find the home of their dreams too. The house was barely a five-minute drive from our place in Edgewater, but we were in Cudell, a new neighborhood to us. Big homes with front porches to match and tree-lined streets greeted us as we drove in. Good signs.
After touring the home for 20 minutes, we knew it was the one. Three floors for our cat to explore, plenty of character on the inside, and room to garden. Not everything was perfect, but on our budget, we had to set some “wants” aside and focus on what we really needed.
As we rushed back to our realtor’s office, I felt pensive. We’d been priced out of most neighborhoods. Typing our humble budget into any search engine, the little dots representing available homes in the city disappeared. When homes did appear in other neighborhoods, they were snatched up at exorbitant prices we simply could not match. There was no time to be outbid. Though interest rates were low, prices were inflated, and out-of-town investors were swooping in. I wondered what it would take to end the housing market’s madness. Everyone deserves a home of their own, and if Cleveland, one of the most affordable markets in the country, was this competitive, how did Americans feel elsewhere? My head spun.
We crafted an offer as our realtor fed us protein bars washed down with Diet Coke. We wrote a personal letter to the seller, and after some back and forth, the offer was, mercifully, accepted. Talk about a sigh of relief, even as the checks began to clear and the bank account tightened its belt. Without the pandemic-driven stimulus checks and student loan payment pause, we would not have been able to make it work. We were soon to be homeowners, safe and secure in our own place, where no landlord could ever kick us out. After 30 years of life, I was truly putting down roots with my partner. Though our realtor noted she didn’t like the location, we disagreed. The 110-year old house was beautiful and affordable on our very limited budget, and we loved Cudell’s historic buildings, long streets perfect for walks, and proximity to a Cleveland Public Library branch.
After we got the keys and walked through the empty house all by ourselves, it felt like my chest would burst with pride. Barely able to see through my tears of joy, a sense of home washed over me. We owned a piece of Cleveland. I grew up in rural Ohio near Amish Country, and trips to Cleveland were always an adventure – seeing the big buildings appear on the horizon jaw-dropping. As a little boy, all I knew were ears of corn and small towns. Seeing Terminal Tower, Key Tower, and the BP building rise in the distance was like seeing another world in front of my very eyes. I swore to myself that I would live in that city. Now, 20 years later, not only did I live in that city – we owned a piece of that city. Our little piece of Cleveland. We’ve become defenders of Cudell. We support local businesses. We participate in neighborhood clean-ups. We’re happy to pay taxes that support the city. We’re proud to live here, and Cleveland, thank you for welcoming us with open arms.
Whether you’re trying to use a housing voucher, get your landlord to fix your place, fix up your own place, or buy a home, tell us about your search for housing in the city of Cleveland – your priorities, challenges, and successes.
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