The little brick bungalow on a quiet tree-lined street.
The creaky front porch where neighbors waved and kids dropped their bikes in a heap.
The basement that smelled faintly like mildew and ambition, where a ping pong table leaned against wood-paneled walls and a “rec room” became the setting for birthday parties, teenage angst, and late-night conversations.
Most of us in St. Louis grew up in some version of that house.
It was not fancy. It was not open concept. The refrigerator was probably avocado or harvest gold. There was a “good couch” nobody was allowed to sit on. And somehow, inside 1,100 or 1,200 square feet, entire lives unfolded.
Those homes raised a generation.
And quietly, they are disappearing.
When Nostalgia Meets Economics
In communities across St. Louis County and St. Charles County, the math no longer works for the starter home.
That little brick bungalow that sold for $85,000 in the early 2000s is now sitting on land worth $200,000 or more. Construction costs have climbed, labor is scarce, materials are volatile, and regulatory requirements continue to grow. When a builder runs the numbers, it is not the charm of the house that determines its future. It is feasibility.
If the land is worth more than the structure, the structure is living on borrowed time.
This is why we see perfectly livable homes in Kirkwood, Webster Groves, Maplewood, Crestwood, Ballwin, and St. Peters being replaced by larger new construction. It is not because builders dislike small homes or buyers hate character. It is because the economic reality leaves no room for a modest replacement.
We often say we want more affordable housing. What we rarely confront is that our policies, zoning, and cost structures make that outcome almost impossible in our most desirable neighborhoods.
“We Didn’t Call It House Hacking”
Before the term existed, we were already doing it.
Grandma lived upstairs.
Uncle Bob rented the basement.
A little basement kitchenette that was never officially “allowed” still helped a family make the mortgage and send a kid to college.
Adult children came back home after a layoff or a divorce and rebuilt their footing under the same roof that once held their childhood bedrooms.
Those homes were flexible long before flexibility became trendy.
Today, multi-generational living is no longer a lifestyle choice. It is a necessity. Aging parents want to stay close. Young adults cannot always leap directly into homeownership. Families want to care for each other without leaving the community they love.
And yet, many of our zoning codes still treat this reality as a problem to be managed instead of a need to be supported.
Accessory dwelling units, garage apartments, and small secondary suites are often restricted, complicated, or discouraged entirely. The very housing patterns that once quietly held families together are now caught in regulatory limbo.
Why “Just Build Cheaper Homes” Is Not a Plan
This is where nostalgia collides with policy.
Minimum lot sizes, parking requirements, stormwater regulations, and setback rules all add cost. Each line item is defensible on its own. Together, they create a wall that smaller, more attainable homes cannot climb.
A builder cannot replace a $150,000 bungalow with a $175,000 new home. The math does not work. By the time land, infrastructure, labor, materials, compliance, and financing are accounted for, the only product that pencils is a much larger, more expensive home.
We are not losing starter homes because no one wants them.
We are losing them because our system makes them financially impossible.
What We Are Really Trading Away
When the starter home disappears, something deeper is lost.
We lose the first rung on the housing ladder.
We lose the gentle entry point for young families.
We lose the place where teachers, nurses, and first-time buyers could once build equity inside strong school districts.
We lose a quiet kind of diversity that made our neighborhoods resilient.
And we lose the chance for a house to raise another generation.
This is not an argument against new construction. Thoughtful infill is essential. Communities evolve. Housing must respond to changing needs.
But we should be honest about the trade-offs.
When every replacement home must be large and expensive to survive, we are not just changing architecture. We are reshaping who gets to belong.
A More Hopeful Path Forward
St. Louis has an opportunity that many regions have already missed.
We can modernize zoning to support accessory units and missing-middle housing.
We can reduce barriers that quietly price people out.
We can design neighborhoods that welcome both nostalgia and progress.
The house that raised us does not have to become a museum piece.
It can become a blueprint.
As a real estate professional working daily with families, builders, and city officials across Kirkwood and the greater St. Louis region, I see this tension play out one address at a time. This is not theoretical. It is deeply personal for the people trying to stay close to parents, put down roots, and build a future in the communities they love.
If we want St. Louis to remain a place where ordinary families can live extraordinary lives, we must decide that the starter home still matters.
Karen Moeller
🌐 STLKaren.com
📧 Karen.McNeill@STLRE.com
📞 314.678.7866
About the Author:
Karen Moeller is a St. Louis area REALTOR® with MORE, REALTORS® and a regular contributor to St. Louis Real Estate News, helping clients make informed, data-driven decisions.
