The Where I Live series aims to showcase our diverse city and region by spotlighting its many vibrant neighborhoods. Each week a local resident invites us over and lets us in on what makes their neighborhood special. Have we been to your neighborhood yet? Get in touch to share your story. If your story is selected and published, you will receive a $250 stipend.
A few years ago, while my husband was traveling for work, I was home with our two young daughters when someone came onto our front porch and tried to steal our double stroller… a stroller that weighed approximately a million pounds.
Luckily, our neighbor across the street doesn’t sleep much. She likes to sit on her porch and keep an eye on everything happening in the neighborhood. She saw what was happening, marched across the street and took the stroller back from the potential thief. I am pretty sure that stroller weighed more than she did, but she was determined to keep it safe.
That story pretty much sums up what I love about living in Beacon Hill.
My family and I live in Beacon Hill, and this is the first home my husband and I bought, before we were even married. It is also the home where we brought all three of our children home for the first time. Because of that, this neighborhood has a very special place in our hearts.
I have never lived in a neighborhood with as much charm and personality as Beacon Hill, from the skunk-themed Fiesta medals in 2019 to the incredible friends and neighbors we have met over the years.
In 2020, when so much of the world felt uncertain, we spent countless hours in the middle of the street with our neighbors while our kids played; safely distanced, of course, and usually with some sort of drink in our hands. We spent mornings walking around the neighborhood with our two young daughters, stopping to chat with people over fences and slowly getting to know the people who lived around us. What started as a strange and difficult time ended up creating some of our favorite neighborhood memories.
That sense of community has continued. People watch out for one another. They celebrate together, help each other out and somehow seem to know when someone needs a little extra support. There is a feeling that if something happens, someone will notice.
I also love where Beacon Hill sits in San Antonio. We are right in the middle of our whole life; close enough to get downtown or to work, take the kids to school, get to church. In a family of five, the fact that almost everything seems to be less than 15 minutes away is crucial to our ability to be on time anywhere.
We also have incredible bakeries and restaurants within walking distance, something that feels increasingly rare and reminds me of neighborhoods in other cities where people actually live, walk and gather in their own communities.
Of course, Beacon Hill isn’t perfect. We have woken up to random people asleep on our front porch, dealt with broken windows and watched the Beacon Hill Facebook page become a source of endless entertainment whenever there is a loud noise in the neighborhood. And I would happily never again hear someone testing exactly how fast they can drive down Blanco Avenue at 2 a.m.
But those things don’t change how I feel about this place.
When I think about Beacon Hill, I don’t think first about the houses or the historic charm. I think about our kids riding their bikes, neighbors talking across fences, summer evenings in the street, Fiesta medals, shared meals and the people who will notice if your stroller is being stolen.
This is the house where our family began, and Beacon Hill is the neighborhood that has grown alongside us. After all these years, I think that is what makes a place home: not that it is perfect, but that it holds the people, stories and memories that matter most.
