Unaffordable housing: a view from Leelanau’s porch

Photo: Krista Reay’s “Leelanau Pledge”

By Cameron Krepps

Op-ed for the Sun

I grew up in Empire.
South of 204, if that still means anything to anyone.
Now I work as a carpenter mostly north of it, inside houses that explain this county better than most people ever will.
And after another Fourth of July weekend, I think it is worth saying something plainly.
It is easy to celebrate freedom from a porch most working families could never afford.
It is easy to fly a flag over a house that sits empty half the year.
It is easy to talk about independence while depending on people who can no longer afford to live near the work they do.
That is the part nobody wants to say out loud.
This is not just about outsiders.
It would be easier if it was.
Some of the people helping hollow this place out have been here for generations.
Some of them have the right last names, the right addresses, the right family stories, the right old photos, the right memories of “what Leelanau used to be.”
And somehow they still became part of the machine eating it.
That might be the worst part.
Because new money does what new money does. It shows up, buys the view, calls it paradise, and turns belonging into branding.
But old money knows better.
Old money remembers when this place was not just a lifestyle.
Old money remembers working families, farmers, teachers, tradesmen, servers, strange old houses, year-round people, winters, favors, and the quiet dignity of people who did not need to advertise how much they cared.
And still, too many of them looked at all of that and chose the market.
Leelanau County has a housing gap of 2,335 units through 2027.
At the same time, the county had 15,

572 housing units, with 5,832 of them vacant

.
That is 37.5% of the housing stock.
So no, the houses did not disappear.
The homes did.
In 2024, only 40% of Leelanau County homebuyers were local.
The median sale price went from $285,000 in 2015 to $609,500 in 2024.
That is not just change.
That is a choice.
A choice made by buyers.
A choice made by sellers.
A choice made by people who inherited land, homes, influence, and community trust — then turned around and cashed out while telling everyone else to accept reality.
So let’s stop pretending this is only being done to Leelanau by people from somewhere else.
Some of it is being done by people from here.
People who know exactly what is being lost.
People who sit on boards, donate to the right causes, talk about stewardship, preserve the view, protect the brand, and still somehow cannot find the courage to protect the people who make this place alive.
That is not stewardship.
That is reputation management.
And on the Fourth of July, of all times, maybe we should remember that independence was never supposed to mean the freedom of the wealthy to quietly own everything while everyone else rents permission to survive.
You cannot sell out the working class of a place and then call yourself a caretaker of it.
You cannot price out the next generation and then talk about preserving community.
You cannot turn homes into assets, locals into labor, and year-round life into an inconvenience, then act confused when the soul of the county starts thinning out.
Old money should understand this better than anyone:
A place is not preserved when only the scenery survives.
A place is preserved when the people who belong to it can still stay.
Leelanau is not just lake access.
It is not just property value.
It is not just a rental calendar.
It is not just a family name.
It is not just a donation plaque.
It is not just a flag on a porch in July.
It is old trucks, dogs in the cab, muddy boots, borrowed tools, long winters, weird houses, back roads, quiet favors, dead grandparents, first jobs, farms, storms, bonfires, and people who still show up when nobody is getting paid.
That is the part money did not create.
That is the part money cannot buy.
And that is the part money is killing.
So yes, outside wealth is part of the problem.
But so is the local money that decided inheritance mattered more than responsibility.
So is the old money that wants credit for loving Leelanau while helping make it impossible for ordinary people to live here.
So is every person who knows better and chooses profit anyway.
Because the truth is simple:
You cannot love a place while helping remove the people who gave it a soul.
You can own property here.
You can have history here.
You can have your family name attached to half the county.
You can clap for fireworks over the bay and call yourself patriotic.
But if your version of freedom only works after the working people are gone, then you are not preserving anything.
You are just managing the decline from a better porch.