Missing Mechanicsville

It was with great regret that I left Hanover County. I moved there in 1999 to be near a job. The only thing I knew about Mechanicsville was it had a windmill bank.

I found a great old house to rent for less than what two bedroom apartments were going for ($750 a month, and the rent never went up in five years!) Even though we were very close to a commercial area and a busy intersection, the house was surrounded on all sides by trees and brush and was far off the road. I felt like I was living in the woods, even though I was minutes from I-295, which quickly took me anyplace I needed to go.

Everything about Mechanicsville was convenient. Within minutes I could get to a Wal-Mart, a Ukrop’s or an all-night Food Lion. I was looking forward to the new Target with great excitement. I had all my doctors, bank branches and the vet nearby. The traffic was not bad at all compared to the West End or Southside.

I felt very safe and didn’t panic if I couldn’t remember if I had locked my front door. Nothing was ever stolen out of my yard or car. I lost one mailbox to vandals and that was it for my Hanover crime. During that same period, my wallet was stolen twice and our vehicles were broken into twice while in the city.

The police officers were familiar faces, like having a town full of big brothers looking after me. The one time I needed to call an ambulance, I was literally picked up by three grandfathers. They even stayed with me until I was put in a room. And I didn't get a bill afterward for the ride to the hospital.

It was an idyllic place to live. I got married at the historic Hanover Courthouse on a summer Tuesday evening, standing in the same spot where Patrick Henry tried cases. New commercial development brought new opportunities to shop, and yet there was still a small-town, rural feel. I loved to drive along scenic and twisting Atlee Station, Pole Green and Cold Harbor roads.

Then I decided I didn’t want to rent anymore. I wanted to buy a house, but Hanover was being built up with huge and identical looking subdivisions with tiny yards, prices starting at $270,000 and up. I guess when you have a school system as excellent as Hanover’s, people will pay anything to live here.

The few neighborhoods that still had houses under $170,000 were mostly along Cold Harbor Road, up against the steady roar of I-295. People were selling their little houses to move up to the bigger ones. They wanted me to pay $173,000 or more for a modest three bedroom rancher, often with only one bath and no garage, or a little four bedroom Cape Cod, two up, two down, eat in kitchen and a living room. The market was so hot, these houses would sell in minutes. We rushed around for several months, putting in bids, but people would actually offer more than the asking price.

Finally someone told me that the last place that was relatively close-in and still had some affordable housing was the Lakeside or Dumbarton area. On our first Sunday afternoon tour of open houses circa 1950-1975, we found one that easily would have cost $20,000 more if it was sitting across the county line. No one bid more than the asking price, so we got it by virtue of having our mortgage paperwork already in hand—although I have to ask myself how crazy is it to buy something as big as a house after looking at it for 15 minutes? I spend more time trying on a pair of shoes before I buy them.

I didn't want to leave Hanover, but I had no choice. I still miss everything about Mechanicsville very much, especially Anna’s Italian Restaurant, Cracker Barrel, the 23116 post office and the windmill bank, which I hear is no longer a Wachovia anyway.