The Long Way Home: The New Urbanism in Seaside, Florida

Text and photos by Tom Pahl

Being in the business of designing and building, I can’t help but look critically at every little bit of construction we drive by on our tour around the country. 

And that’s a lot of houses, churches, school buildings, city halls, town squares, malls, skyscrapers, rooflines, trim features, materials, structures, bridges, columns, landscapes, foundations, color combinations, windows, doors, layout options, etc., to examine as we fly by at 60 mph, all the while trying to keep from driving off the road or sliding out of my lane.

But the builder’s eye never rests, and I always find it interesting how building design so much reflects the environment that gives rise to it. Residential construction especially is a window into the story of its inhabitants, who they are, what resources they have at their disposal, the quality of life they expect, as well as how they relate to their history, to their physical environment, and to their neighbors.

With that as a constant conversation in my head, and one that I share with Carol to the extent that it doesn’t wear on her too much, we landed in Grayton Beach State Park along the panhandle of Florida. 

We ended up there because it fit our criteria as a place that would be far enough south to provide some warmer weather and, located on the Gulf of Mexico, salt water. When we arrived, there was snow and ice still in shady places, left over from a freak cold snap the week prior.  And while warm air wasn’t on the docket, salt water and beautiful beaches were. 

Being from Ocracoke, it turns out, is a bit of a disadvantage to the beach-oriented traveler, as it is so rare that we find a beach that comes up to Ocracoke standards.  It’s a high bar, but we have to admit, like that internet meme with the guy glancing over his shoulder at the attractive girl, Grayton Beach caught our eye.  Sorry Ocracoke.

The sand is fine and white and abundant; the water a tropical turquoise (though it wasn’t a tropical temperature); the waves roll in big across the sand bar; the dunes are high, covered with sea oats and juniper.  There was easy access to the beaches, though at the state-owned section, Napolean was not allowed, due to a blanket no-dogs rule that did not recognize his unique and special qualities.

The area boasts of its bicycle trails and rightfully so.  One passes in front of the campground and can take a rider 10 miles or more in either direction.  I rode west for a few miles and dropped off my bike for a much-needed tune up at Big Daddy’s Bike Shop. They gave me a loaner which served its purpose, though for that first week, I did miss my own bike.

The more interesting ride was going east from the campground, just a couple of miles across an inlet into Seaside, a beachy-tourism oriented area with restaurants, hotels, food trucks, beach bars, coffee shops, a book store, a church and a significant residential area, which, as I rode my bicycle around, is where I began to realize I had entered a masterpiece of community design. 

It turns out that Seaside is an intentionally designed town, of the architectural school known as “New Urbanism.”  In fact, Seaside is so connected with New Urbanism that it might be said that the movement found its legs there. 

As you walk or bike the neighborhoods, you find the houses are each uniquely designed, often with a nod to a classical architectural style, but also each built to a similar scale, so that no one overpowers its neighbor.  The tree-covered roadways are just barely wide enough for two cars to pass, keeping traffic to a slow pace.  The houses sit at street level with front porches and nearby walkways connecting the distinct homes into a lean-on-the-fence-and-chat neighborhood.  So much so, in fact, that one is motivated just by the narrow roads, the easy tread of the walkways, and the layout of the neighborhood to park your car and walk.

New Urbanism is an architectural/community design concept which is intended to build a sense of community, reflect the local ecology and which goes back to ways of traditional neighborhood development. 

New Urbanism communities create regular opportunities for neighbors to interact with neighbors and provide for simple needs, like a loaf of bread and a carton of milk, a cup of coffee, Sunday service, and maybe a book, to be readily available within an easy walk. 

Housing design will reflect and respond to the local environment rather than try to overcome it.  Windows will provide ventilation based on the summertime wind direction, roofs will be oriented for solar panels, the slope of a hillside might protect from excess heat and enhance a view.  Community spaces, like a central green or plaza, schools, parks, walkways, playgrounds and community centers are integral to a New Urbanism community

Seaside was the brainchild of developer Robert Davies, who worked with a number of architects and planners, including Elizabeth Plater-Zyberk, Andres Duany and Robert Stern, all of whom were significantly influenced by the noted Architectural Historian and Yale professor Vincent Scully. Together, the designers, planners, and builders of Seaside accomplished a livable work of art that is now home to a little over 18,000 people, and is a treasured place to visit for many thousands more.

Of course, Seaside has its critics, as has every architectural achievement, big and small. And while the theory of New Urbanism is meant to be inclusive of rich and poor alike, over time Seaside has trended steeply toward upper income residents.  A victim of its own success, it has become a very desirable community and, with market forces at work, prices have been driven upward and out of the reach of most of Seaside’s workforce.  One empty lot I came across on a still-dirt road was listed at over $700,000, and a quick perusal of current listings shows the few houses in Seaside that are for sale are listed between $1.5 and $3.5 million.

What’s ironic, of course, is that our beloved Ocracoke accomplishes, almost exactly, the goals set out by New Urbanism: walkable neighborhoods, unique housing, slow moving traffic, local access to basic needs, restaurants, entertainment, books, a neighborhood-building environment, community spaces, connection to the natural environment… all of it and not a planner in sight.  In fact, for the most part, attempts at professional planning and regulation in Ocracoke have been cut off at the knees or outright rejected.  It just happens that those things in Ocracoke that give rise to neighborhood design have, of their own accord, resulted in the very things New Urbanists strive for.  But it is Ocracoke’s early history as a remote place that made it an example of New Urbanism before there was such a thing.  Less so, modern day Ocracoke.

And that point where Ocracoke passed from its idyllic “New Urbanist” past to its modern-day incarnation?  I’d say 1977 when the water plant opened for business. I wasn’t a resident at the time, but I had been a dingbatter since the 60s, and the change was apparent over the years, even to me. 

Land values started to rise, incentivizing owners to sell and developers to buy. But many of the constraints that had kept Ocracoke undeveloped still worked their magic: unpaved roads, no community sewer, unpredictable access, few amenities, a long off season, storms, and simply a lack of enough economic activity to create a real boom.

One by one, we are working on addressing those constraints, whether we mean to or not.  And the closer we come to eliminating all the constraints to development, the more we will need to reconsider our shoot-from-the-hip rejection of regulation that seeks to preserve what is left of our accidental New Urbanist paradise. 

Clearly Ocracoke is not ever going to be a planned community the way Seaside is, but visiting this beautiful, community-oriented, beach town and seeing how much the Seaside residents appreciate their special place reminded me of home. Sort of.

We’ll keep you posted.

Editor’s note: Seaside is the location in which the movie “The Truman Show” was filmed.