During a “walkability audit” in St. Louis, residents came out of their homes to find out what was going on. Where people know their neighbors, they are able to provide a natural kind of surveillance for their neighborhoods.

Part of my work to make communities nationwide more walkable and livable is to help untangle conflicting values. We love and value families, children, safety, beauty, the outdoors, open space and nature. We want solid home prices, strong schools and neighbors who watch out for us. But then, for some reason, we resist the things that support these values. And we oppose efforts to make our neighborhoods more inviting, more comfortable, more livable.

Let me be honest: I personally dislike gated or otherwise walled-off communities. I also don’t like homogeny in neighborhoods. I love diversity, the chance to meet someone not like myself—a stranger who comes into my life for a few minutes, or for a lifetime.

I like communities with big houses with wealthy folks, average homes with average Janes and Joes, and small homes lovingly occupied by service employees and blue-collar workers. I love my daughter and, in fact, she’s one of those service employees I like to see in mixed-income neighborhoods. It’s how I got started in life, too. And I like how I felt accepted. I appreciate young and old and rich and poor and all in between. I grew up that way, and it makes me comfortable.

Recently, I was on the phone with a community leader in the Midwest who asked for help from the institute that I lead because some of her neighbors oppose a proposed multi-use trail—a place to walk and to ride bikes. The opposition says the trail might bring about bike crashes and falls.

When streets and neighborhoods are walkable, people get to know each other, such as in Port Townsend, WA, where the WALC Institute is located.

While I’m confident that as soon as we address this issue, another “technical brush-off,” as we call it in my line of work, would be brought up by the same people. This is a game in which there is no winner, because the real problem isn’t a concern about crashes, but rather a fear of people coming to our neighborhoods who aren’t like us, or who we don’t already know.

One of the sad ironies is that the people opposing that trail may be hurting their own property values. As CEOs for Cities shows us, “walkability” can increase a home’s value by as much as $3,000 per walkability point, up to hundreds of thousands of dollars per home.

Several years ago I was asked by a developer of a nearly built-out, high-end community in Florida, where homes were valued between $2 and $4 million, to help him find a way to sell his houses. There were no sidewalks or trails and the population was aging. Young buyers who could afford the homes weren’t interested because they want to raise their children with sidewalks, trails, and the ability to get to know their neighbors. Older buyers weren’t interested because they either couldn’t sell their current homes, or they wanted to be able to “age in place,” and they understood that living there would mean that once they no longer could drive, they’d be dependent on others to get them around. It took time, but the developer and the home owners realized that by not being inclusive, they had reduced their property values, and so, for the first time, they were looking to be more inclusive.

Yes, sigh, money talks.

And here’s an example of how inclusiveness actually makes your neighborhood safer. In another set of Midwestern towns, I took a school bus full of planners, engineers, uniformed police officers and city administrators into a gated community. We walked a few blocks to talk about what was working and what wasn’t working, taking maybe 10 minutes. By the time we got back to the school bus, we learned that the school board had received three phone calls from neighbors wanting to know what was going on. Not one person had come out of their homes to talk with us or find out why we were there.

About 30 minutes later our group exited the school bus in a community without gates, without walls. Within minutes, more than a dozen people had come out of their homes to check us out. “Hey, what’s up, what’s going on?” they asked. We felt comfortable and good.

This is the lesson: Neighbors in neighborhoods designed for inclusiveness watch over their streets naturally and consistently. They know each other. They come out of their homes. They use the sidewalks and trails and open space as more than just a place to pass by in their cars, but rather as a way to connect, and yes, to create natural surveillance of their neighborhoods.

So next time someone proposes a trail or sidewalk in a community that needs it, I hope everyone will think about the true safety factors, and even the long-term financial impacts, and not succumb to their fears of the unknown.

I’m just sayin’ …

Dan Burden is the executive director of the Walkable and Livable Communities Institute.  Follow him on Twitter @walkliveinst

Places that are walkable create comfort through the presence of other people, as do this street and trail in New York City.

People worldwide want to live in a town/city that is walkable. Places that seek to become more walkable and livable – everyplace from Maui to Abu Dhabi, where the prince has declared that he wants his city to become one of the five most livable in the world—must invest in the features that make it happen.

But what are these features? I’ve picked five that some cities are bringing back.

I like to define both walkability and livability with one word: comfort. When we are in a place where we do not feel comfortable walking, we know it.

These often are places where vehicle speeds are high, we don’t see other people walking, the buildings all look the same. In an area devoid of people, there is starkness. There isn’t comfort.

So when I walk in people-packed places, I think about how it is that they have become so comfortable. Here is my list:

Places that aren’t walkable don’t feel comfortable, like this street in Smithtown, New York.

1) They are designed for people. Places designed for people, not just cars, win— always. Seriously.

When a place is well-designed, it accommodates bikes, pedestrians and cars, but we aren’t aware of—or overwhelmed by—the movement of cars. This happens when cars are moving at speeds safe for the area, and when traffic is distributed through a network of streets.It seems obvious, but when streets aren’t friendly for walking, people avoid walking. Streets lined with trees and on-street parking (parked cars offer a useful buffer between people who are walking and cars that are moving), and homes and other buildings that front and address the streets, make the most pleasant Ozzie-and-Harriett-type places. With these features in place, a really good neighborhood street might be packed with children, perhaps The Beaver’s age, running free.

2) They create a sense of place and offer destinations. Whether in a dense city or lightly settled rural area, walkable areas have preserved or restored buildings or added parks and public spaces in a way that creates a sense of place or celebrates the community character. Homes or other buildings watch over the street and help define the street.

In walkable places there are, of course, places to walk to—destinations that can be reached within a 5- or 10-minute walk. These attractions can be parks, schools, stores, services, and especially places to eat and places of employment. Project for Public Spaces also tells us that the Power of 10 applies: a good place offers at least 10 things to do, see or experience.

Streets that are walkable are diverse and offer variety, like in downtown Winter Garden, Fla.

3) They connect us to nature.  How close do we feel to natural things like trees, plants, an open stream, a pond, a lake a trail? Are there birds, squirrels, rabbits or other animals?  Where lands have been privatized, covered or cut down, we can bring back connections to nature by planting trees, “day lighting” streams and building ecologically sensitive trails when we can.

4) They are authentic.  Neighborhoods and downtowns naturally change over time and take on new elements. But they also should honor their character and history and retain a sense of authenticity. The heart loves a built environment that feels organic.

5) They are diverse and offer variety. Walkable and livable communities are diverse in people, housing types and opportunities. They offer variety. Walking isn’t boring.

When we finally get these ingredients in place, all of them, my guess is that these words will evaporate and no longer be needed to describe the ways that walkable streets create comfort. I am looking forward to that day.

How about you?

Follow Dan on Twitter @DanBurden

Taken in Honolulu during my Walkability Survey with AARP Hawaii. An older woman uses the street to cross as there are no adequate sidewalks.

My mother lived to be 93, and was able to live in place. I feel that she lived an extra five to eight high-quality years because we never had to take her from her neighborhood and friendship circle. This was a precious gift to our entire family.

My wife Lys and I were able to import her parents to our neighborhood in Florida, and we watched over them for a full decade — the quality end-game of their lives. One month before his passing, my father-in-law, a surviving World War II tail gunner who then became a coal and environmental geologist, celebrated his 90th birthday by kayaking a spring-run with the entire family.

 I prefer the term “Living in place” instead of the commonly used, “Aging in place.” It sounds more active, more engaging, more positive.

Living our lives at home ‘til our final breath is what Lys and I also seek, and is what most people want: Dignity, familiar and loving social networks close at hand, and independence. Does this describe where and how you live?

Before you answer, think about this: Due to advances in medical science, most of us are likely to outlive our abilities to drive cars by seven to ten years. If we are removed from home and taken to care facilities, costs can rise to $15,000 to $20,000 per month. No matter who ends up paying, these extra costs could sink our fragile economy. If we do not want this future, what do we need?

Can you walk to places you want to go on a daily basis, such as a pharmacy, grocery store, community center or church? Can you walk to the homes of friends and family? Do you have good sidewalks with shade and places to sit? Is there bus service near you?

In downtown Honolulu, I recently watched many older people struggle to get across wide and fast roads. There was good transit and lots of destinations, such as housing, stores, churches, parks, beaches and restaurants — so there were many places to walk to, but not many safe ways to get there. Indeed, Honolulu has a great climate and high “livability factors,” but could be considered a dangerous place to grow old, largely due to fast cars and lots of them, moving on overly wide roads. The good news is that people in Honolulu are working to change this, and you can do so in your neighborhood, too. Here are some ways:

• Utilize the AARP Create the Good Sidewalks and Streets Survey tool to document what is needed in your area to make your walk safer and more comfortable. Share the results with municipal staff and elected leaders.
• Ask government staff and leaders to adopt traffic-calming practices that will move cars smoothly but at lower speeds. Also ask them to narrow roadways or add “crossing island” medians that provide refuge for pedestrians.
• Encourage and support “mixed-use” development, which means that commercial space, retail shops and residential stock all are located near each other.
• Convert vacant yards to community gardens or “pocket parks.”

We must build the missing parts of America together. If we don’t, our young generations will strain to support us; as a society, we will fail without healthy places to age well. We can, and we must build places to be better!

A group of volunteers conduct a walking audit.

Necessity truly is the mother of invention.

About 20 years ago, I found myself at a disadvantage with my engineering counterparts in the Florida Department of Transportation. I was reviewing plans for an intersection and I realized many of the elements that support people, not just cars, were being left out. As I spoke, the engineers’ eyes glazed over. I said, “My ideas aren’t coming across, so let’s take a walk!”

We drove to the intersection — because, ironically, there weren’t safe sidewalks for us to use. With engineering drawings spread on car hoods, I explained how the proposed design would not work for people using “active” modes of transportation. I suggested that to refine the design, it would be helpful to study what people were doing—or attempting to do—at the intersection.

• We saw a parent and child start to cross with the “WALK” signal, but then quickly return to the curb when the signal flashed, “DON’T WALK.”
• We saw vehicles cutting off pedestrians as they attempted to cross.
• With each crossing we successfully made, and with each observation, eyes were opened wider and wider: it was a series of ‘a-ha’ moments.

Dan measures a street.

Thus was born the now-popular walking audit. Since that day, I’ve conducted thousands of walking audits in communities all over North America, and am happy to see that many of these places have turned their streets around and are seeing not only better public health, but better economic development and social health.

Why are walking audits so powerful?

• Well, they help participants see streets through a different lens, one focused on people.
• They also help community members understand that they have many shared values; almost all of us—whether we live in rural, suburban or urban places—want our communities to be safe, healthy, economically vibrant and socially connected.
• Getting people out on walks together helps them see those similarities.
• It also cuts through theoretical discussions and “aerial” planning, and focuses on what’s really happening on the ground.

I’ve seen many changes in thinking since I started leading walking audits. I’ve seen fire marshals who insisted they needed broad cul-de-sacs change their thoughts after a walking audit.

During a walk, all people become equal; issues are clearly identified; and reasonable, practical solutions are found.

It is easy to organize and conduct a walk. In fact, a non-expert can organize one to teach friends, neighbors, elected leaders and government staff where shortcomings exist and how people have been left behind and turn their roads into complete streets.

Photos courtesy of the Walkable and Livable Communities Institute.

Numerous organizations, including the WALC Institute, AARP’s Create the Good, the Pedestrian and Bicycle Information Center, the National Center for Safe Routes to School, WalkScore.com and others provide walkability checklists and guidance.

Why not download some online resources and go out, take a walk and see for yourself how your streets are performing? Document what you find, and you can be part of making active living and active transportation a natural and safe activity again.

Dan Burden is the executive director of the Walkable and Livable Communities Institute. 

A complete street in a rural setting in Bainbridge Island, Wash., where vehicle speeds and volume are so low that sidewalks aren’t even needed.

Like many people my age, it’s easy for me to put off the thought of setting aside the car keys one day. But recently, and especially with the snowy weather in my town lately, it’s been on my mind. As I traveled the nearly deserted streets of Port Townsend, Wash., by foot last week and noted that cars were slow and drivers courteous, I thought about the country’s need for “complete streets.”

You may have heard this term before but not understood what it means or how it affects us as we age. A complete street is one that accommodates all people who use a roadway, not just those in cars. It offers a safe way for people to travel, regardless of their age, ability or mode of transportation—whether walking, biking, using transit or driving a car. Where we have complete streets, people have choices in transportation, including an option that is right outside each door, is affordable and is healthy.

For aging boomers and seniors, complete streets are particularly important. We are at great risk for rapidly declining health and social isolation once we lose the ability to travel on our own. About 20 percent of seniors today do not drive; and half of all non-drivers age 65 or older stay at home on a given day because they lack transportation. I watched this pattern with both my parents and in-laws.

An incomplete street in Morrow, Ga., the likes of which can be found in just about any town in the country.

By 2015, more than 15.5 million older Americans will live in communities where public transportation options are poor or nonexistent. Thus, if seniors want to go somewhere, many must walk or use other non-motorized modes of transportation. If we want to age—or live—in place, without moving into assisted-care facilities or into the homes of our adult children, we need to be able to use active modes of transportation.

But doing so can be particularly dangerous for us: older pedestrians are at a much higher risk of being killed by a vehicle than younger counterparts. Although people age 65 and older make up less than 13 percent of the total U.S. population, we represented 22 percent of recent pedestrian deaths. People age 75 and older make up slightly more than six percent of the population, yet they were the victims in 13 percent of pedestrian deaths.

A vision for completing the street in Morrow, GA.

This all adds up to tell us that we need to invest in our communities by designing or redesigning streets to be “complete.” Then, we need to connect them so that we have a network for travel.

The components of a complete street will vary from place to place. For example, what makes a street complete in a rural area might be quite different from that of a suburban or an urban area. Frequently, though, when we talk about complete streets, we talk about:

• Well-maintained sidewalks that are wide enough for the anticipated uses
• Calm traffic, with cars moving at safe speeds
• Buffers between people and cars, often in the form of street trees, planter strips, a furniture zone, or even on-street parking
• A lot of places to cross the street, with short crossing distances and crossings that are properly marked, signed and lit. If needed, crossing median islands that provide pedestrian refuge.
• Full accommodations for people with disabilities, even at driveways
• On-street bike lanes or off-street pathways where needed
• Trees for shade, beauty and their ecological benefits
• Places to sit, both along walkways and at transit stops
• Lighting on primary streets

Creating complete streets doesn’t need to be expensive. In some cases, it is a matter of just moving the paint; for example, a “road diet” that reduces the number of vehicle travel lanes and uses the remaining space to add bike lanes or on-street parking might be accomplished just by moving the stripes. When completing a street does cost more than building the conventional option, it is normally a modest increase in cost—perhaps five percent—but is a worthwhile investment.

The importance of complete streets has been brought to the national spotlight by concerns about housing and transportation for aging baby boomers, as well as concerns borne of the country’s housing crisis, struggling economy, rising cost of fuel and environmental degradation. Communities are increasingly saying they want their streets to be complete; in fact, more than 300 jurisdictions, from Hawaii to Vermont and from University Place, Wash. to Winter Park, Fla., have adopted complete streets policies. Legislation is winding its way through Washington that would require federally funded street projects to provide safe accommodations for all users.

I think that if we invest in complete streets now, then not only will we all be happier and healthier as we age, but one day our children will thank us—especially if they don’t have to drive across town, or even a few blocks, to help us across the street.

Dan Burden is the executive director of the Walkable and Livable Communities Institute. 

Usually during these “walking audits,” as we call them, curious motorists gawk at the strange sight of people actually – gasp! – walking. The walkers’ bright, reflective vests tend to draw attention, too. But when the people walking go to cross a street, the people driving usually do something they’re not inclined to do in their busy lives: they wait for them. It’s a sign that things can still work as intended and that people in cars, people walking and people on bikes can still share space in a civil manner.

From tiny, rural communities to our nation’s largest cities, walking or using any form of active transportation has become challenging. In the process of building our environment for motorized vehicles, we also engineered activity out of our daily lives. By doing so, we’ve driven our health, sense of community and local economies to the brink of ruin. I’m an eternal optimist, though. I know that we can and will do better.

As I travel to all types of towns throughout North America, I find that the most vibrant and successful communities have something in common: they rally behind a common vision, set a strategic plan and then act together to make their streets for people.

• Denver did this with a transit mall and by reclaiming its historic buildings.
• Portland, Ore., did it by replacing freeways and parking garages with parks and hearty town centers.
• The people of North Little Rock, Ark. trusted the mayor and city council to bring Main Street to life and then infused their town with stadiums, parks, a replenished main street and trails.
• Chattanooga, Tenn. went from America’s dirtiest town to its cleanest, built on the belief that it could do better.
• In Fairhope, Ala., just last week, the town invested in people first by ensuring the paint they’re putting down on dozens of streets is put in the right places, in configurations that support people walking and biking, as well as using cars.

By rallying behind a unified vision, each of these communities is doing what they set out to do. They give me hope for the entire country. As more and more towns focus on people first, they will have to exhibit courage, take some risks and try new design tools, like road diets, lower vehicle speeds in downtowns, and modern roundabouts, among others.

But when residents, advocates, town staff and business leaders stand shoulder to shoulder with elected officials and place a human being, not the car, at the center of the design scale, we all will become healthier, happier, better connected and more prosperous. And on this, the day after my 68th birthday, these are the successes I look forward to celebrating.

Dan Burden is the executive director of the Walkable and Livable Communities Institute.