Howell is fortunate to be a city of walkable neighborhoods that boast houses of different ages and styles, all connected by sidewalks.
My bungalow in Howell is over 100 years old. It makes up for its lack of expansive closet space with a lovely front porch, large enough for a swing and a chair or two. That porch made me fall in love with the house before I took my first step inside.
But it had been years since I’ve done any meaningful front-porch sitting; while my sweet dog Ted was alive, time on the porch was never, ever relaxing.
Ted — who died not quite a year ago — was an anxious soul, whose mission in life was alerting us to every irregularity he sensed, be it squirrel, delivery truck, or approaching thunderstorm; if dogs wore tin-foil hats, Ted’s would have been the size of a sombrero. Sitting on the front porch was too stressful for him, whether he was out there with us, or inside pleading for us to come back in. Outside time was always spent in our fenced backyard, which is pretty private.
This spring we hauled two rocking chairs from the backyard to the front and took up porch sitting again.
It was lovely.
This year, we’ve met new neighbors, new dogs and the new kids on the block. We’ve enjoyed coffee in the morning and cocktails in the evening. Sometimes the porch functions as my personal phone booth. I chat with passersby and I pet other people’s dogs because we are not quite ready for a new one. It’s a wonderful place to wile away time and take in all the life happening in my neighborhood; I wanted to share with you my renewed enthusiasm for porching, as well as leave you with an idea.
Front porches were something of a status symbol in the early 1900s, giving people a way to stay cool in the heat and dry when it rained; porches gave people a way to connect with their neighbors. In the 1930s and ’40s, radios and televisions started replacing porch sitting as entertainment; air conditioning let people stay inside when it was hot; and cars helped folks go wherever they liked for fun. These modernities helped make porches start disappearing from house plans.
But the pendulum is swinging back toward front porches, helped along, perhaps, by the isolation we all experienced during the pandemic; the number of porches on new homes these days has increased dramatically.
It’s a good thing, and like all good things, creative folks have started putting their own spin on it. Witness the rise of social gatherings called “porchfests,” in which people gather on and about front porches to enjoy events, from mini concerts to outdoor happy hours.
The original “porchfest” was born in Ithaca, N.Y., in 2007, after a group of people who gathered to play ukuleles in front of their houses realized that porches make great stages. Since then, they’ve helped other people start similar musical events in hundreds of places, including cities like Minneapolis and San Antonio, suburbs like Decatur in Atlanta, and small towns on Cape Cod in Massachusetts. In Michigan this year are porchfests in Lapeer, Ferndale, Port Austin and Flint. There’s even an upcoming, well-organized porchfest in Traverse City, set for Sept. 17 this year. Check it out.
I was surprised to see so many porchfests in so many neighborhoods in so many states across the U.S. Just Google “porchfest 2023” — it’s amazing.
While most of these events are focused on local musicians, not all are. A woman in Niagara Falls, Ont., hosts a “Stories From the Porch” series that features storytellers and speakers on art, history and culture.
Other neighborhoods have community porch events that are more like house-to-house outdoor parties.
What these events have in common is that they are local, they are free, and they get people out of their homes and into their neighborhoods to socialize and enjoy something together. They seem a wonderful way to build and strengthen communities during a time in which so many say we are all so far apart.
Maybe we should start thinking about porchfests in Livingston County.
